In the two weeks I was in Melbourne I read three of these young adult books. They’re called ‘Pretties’, ‘Ugglies’ and ‘Specials’ and they’re by some guy whose last name starts with W. I want to read the last one, ‘Extras’. They’re not very good, but they’re quick reading. I am very into young adult fiction (YA for those of us in The Trade) atm, mostly because of ‘Titus Groan’.
Now I am reading this other dumb YA book called ‘City of Bones’ or ‘Bone City’ or whatever. It’s kind of crap. No Diane Wynn Jones, that’s for freakn’ sure. Also, finishing off ‘Tehanu’ the other day (go Ursula Le Guin, go!) has ruined me for anything less. Jeez, that’s some good shit. Also, has anyone read the other ‘sequels’ in the Earthsea series? I think I might.
Basically, this big binge on books (I’m also reading ‘1984’ for the first time) is the product of a trip to that giant second hand book shop in Newtown and some time in Melbourne with Galaxy. She made me buy books (well, I bought the two Buffy season 8 volumes I was missing, but didn’t go with the Angel because it was all FREAKING EXPENSIVE. No more Minotaur bookshop for me). I also went to a game shop and bought some more Cheap Ass games (NEED GAME PLAYING FRIENDS! NOW! min. 2 players for my 3-player games). And I bought a broach. And then, because I was obviously ridin’ HIGH on the crazy horse, I stopped. But the ride, while it was on, it was so good.
So now I am all about buying books. Usually I wait for The Mother to bring up a shipment or I re-read, but I can’t re-read those bastards any more. I can’t even count how many times I’ve read them, but we’re over 10. So now I’m buying the buggers.
Also, I am thinking about emusic again.
And, I haven’t bought anything for anyone for christmas except my little brother’s kids. Because I am crap. But I’m not sure anyone but me wants Chronological Classics CDs, jewelry by local artists, squids of YA fiction (actually, I’m not sure about that one – I think one of my nieces is into books. Because she is into adolescence, almost, and has turned into the nerd of the family. Finally – another nerd is born. She aims to be a chef when she grows up, so I figure that’s a win).
Anyways, I hate buying christmas presents. I’d rather make them, but the fabric shop is TOO FUCKING FAR AWAY. It makes me crazy.
And, I have injured my plantar fascia, so I am hobbling around in pain or sitting on my arse watching DVDs (Heroes is less than A1 second time through, but it fills the gap). Or reading YA fiction. Can I just say: YA was better in My Day. Which was about the 70s, apparently, as that’s when all the YA books my Ps had were published. Considering I was born in 1974, I guess they were planning ahead. Phew.
Have I mentioned the pain in my foot? Physio has hopes for me and a big dance camp in January, but I’m not so sure. It’s a lot of pain. I blame MLX. I can’t walk without pain. I can only just walk without a limp. Most days. I do the exercises, though, and I hope. I’m not sure about this getting older thing. It was better when I could just drink drive and get into pakour. Now that I am old, I am reaping the effects of my ill-spent youth. Which, actually, was mostly spent wearing docs and shaving my head. Oh, and going nuts in the university library. With the books. Because, you know, the UQ library had a fair few more books than the Sandgate High library. And you could just _borrow them out for free_!
Anyway, with that and all the disco dancing, I think I damaged myself a bit. The physio reckons fracturing something in my ankle horse riding when I was in my early 20s is responsible for a dodgy ankle today. At the time, I shrugged it off. Today, I suffer. Also, the once-fractured right wrist is also giving me trouble. So this is the lesson: breaking limbs has long term consequences. Which SUCK ARSE.
I am not coping well with the enforced home-stay. I want to go out. Into the world. I hadn’t realised just how much walking I do in my day to day life. To the train station, down hill (excruciating on the home trip). To Ashfield for groceries (returning home to empty house, home alone til the weekend, local shops CRAP for veggies, partner working full time so can’t go to shops: shitful!). To Marrickville to explore the local fabric shop. To the train station for a 2 part trip to the fabric shop in Green Square. Around Circular Quay, just to look.
Not to mention dancing.
Anyway, if I had a car, I could probably get around. But I’m relying on the bus, and it’s not so good. It’s just about driving me MAD.
A trip to Burwood yesterday to see a (terrible) film was really hard. I wanted to look in the Burwood shops and eat dumpling. No. Go straight to the cinema. Once I got there, I was in real pain. Then I had to stop off in Ashfield for our veggies. That was ok, but by then I couldn’t imagine getting home from the train station in Summer Hill. So I caught a cab. It was so frustrating and painful – ordinarily the 20minute walk to our house from Ashfield would be delight. I’d walk through the park and pick some rosemary. I’d sticky beak in people’s gardens. I’d think about things. But yesterday, it was a big piece of crap. Getting a cab felt like a failure.
The physio says riding a bike would be a bit less painful. But I have this stupid left over cold from MLX which is also making me very tired and weak. Which is probably why yesterday was so hard. But I’m also still scared of the traffic.
Fucking hell, this sucks. Injuries: be over! But the physio says we’re in for a month of work before I can dance. Which makes me cry. No christmas performance :( No social dancing at three christmas parties. Nothing.
I think I’ll buy myself another book. Or perhaps a few million more songs on emusic. I deserve them.
always last to the bar
Can’t believe I missed CW Stoneking in Melbourne. I’m a dummy.
Old timey blues and low-down action. Just my cup of tea. listen here.
Can be bought via itunes (blurgh) or amazon (double blurgh), or via his label Voodoo Rhythm (check their punkrockingly dodgy site) or here.
And he’s Australian, no less.
Also, note the musicians in his ‘band’ – the sorts of jazznicks you know you can love.
2 dollars isn’t such a high price
cynicism
The other day I saw a man on the tram with a white plastic bangle that said ‘non violent’ or something similar.
I thought ‘It’d be more useful if instead they put red ones with ‘violent’ on the men who need it’.
think of me… but in a kind way, not a revolted way
I know it’s been a long time, and I’m sorry. Faceplant is to blame.
Update:
– I have been teaching a lot, marking even more, and am now at MLX, so this may be the last update for a while.
– I have been at the telly/national conference where I had a lovely time, learnt a lot, and kind of wished I’d read some telly stuff. Learn = on.
– I have been mooching off friends for the past few days after a bit of time in a hotel. It’s been nice being a hostee in a city I used to live in only a few months ago. We are currently staying with The Squeeze’s mum in Heidelberg, and are just about to go down to St Kilda Rd and our flash hotel for the hardcore MLX weekend. They have internet there, but it’s crazy expensive, so don’t expect any updates.
– I have been having a nice time catching up with locals and staying in Brunswick (where all my friends seem to be). This meant that I did as I used to hate having done unto me: dropping in on Scotty during the day to kill half an hour because I was at loose ends and I knew he worked at home. But it was a good thing I did: who would have helped him clean his fish tank if I hadn’t been there?
– I did a very excellently fun set at funbags last Friday. It was in the St Albans church in… some suburb on the south side. It’s a FABULOUS venue – not cold or naff or echoey like normal, lame church venues. This was a gorgeous space and felt really good to DJ. It filled up with crazy-keen-to-dance dancers and I had a really good time DJing. I felt as though I’d shaken off my recent DJing craptitude (two bad jobs recently, one at SSF, one at a local gig). Let’s hope my confidence holds for this weekend and doesn’t become anxiety: worry makes me DJ craply. I feel some pressure for my MLX sets, but I think it’ll be ok.
– MLX8 is already big. More passes than every before have been sold, and if the proportions work out the same as previous years we’ll be seeing 400 through the doors at late nights. That’s kind of scary, but I think it’ll work out ok as there are two rooms. I dunno if it’ll actually reach those figures, but we’ll see. Either way, MLX is the largest social dancing event in the country and heading towards the largest of all the events. This is something I’m quite proud of, and for which I’m very proud of the other organisers. I’m also chuffed to see that our instincts about what would make a good event reflected wider interests in the community. We always set out just to run the sort of event we’d like to attend. And that’s the way it’s ended up. So it’s nice that this is the first year I’ve been able to attend MLX in its current non-profit, all social dancing incarnation as a general punter and DJ. I’m quite excited.
– It’s nice being in Melbourne, but I don’t want to live here any more. I really miss all the bike riding and bike lanes and flat roads, but I don’t miss the weather. The weather sucks arse. We arrived in the middle of that super cold spell last week, and I had to ring The Squeeze to request he bring me PJs when he came down. I had actually managed to forget a few key items in my packing last week: PJs, some sort of nice outfit for the MLX ball, more than two Tshirts for day wear, more than four Tshirts for dancing. I’m not sure what I was thinking, except that I’m suspecting I wasn’t thinking. This explains why my backpack was so light.
– I am reading Titus Groan atm, and loving it.
Ok, I have to go do some DJ prac for this weekend.
Think of me suffering in the Victorian dryness with my horrid snotty nose and exma, will you? But in a kind way, not in a revolted way.
i <3 PT
Ringing up to find out about fares for a new bus service, the lady mentioned that that service had been very popular. I like the thought of a bus being ‘very popular’. Having failed to renew my license (as in swap from Vic to NSW) three times now (it’s all my fault – failure to procure and then bring correct documents. every. single. time), I am all about PT. It will make hiring a car difficult this week in Melbourne, but still…
So yes, I’m off to Melbourne this week. A heinous weekend of exam marking behind me (hand written exams. Hand written first year exams. Save me, save me), I’m off to Melbourne for the telly conference and MLX. I’m feeling a little trashed, having combined an exchange (SSF) with the marking. I am, obviously, seriously hardcore and badass, but I am also a bit snotty and a bit tired and confused.
In a couple of hours I’m off to the university for a markers’ meeting (let’s just hope no one asks me to describe what I read in the exams – it’s all a blur to me now… well, it was kind of a blur to me then, too). Then I’m off to the airport from there. Carrying a backpack full of dance clothes (I’ll need at least two outfits a night, then at least 3 Tshirt changes per night) and a smaller bag full of DJing gear. I will be like a little tortoise. But I think the L10 will save me – from my place to Leichardt, then Leichardt to the university, then the university straight to the airport. That’s three different buses, but at least the L10 goes from Leichardt, which is near us, only 10 minutes on my normal bus first. No navigating the CBD and Central station.
I still haven’t organised accommodation for the second week of my Melbourne trip, the dancing part. Frankly, I just can’t face it right now. So I’ll figure it out later.
Ok, I have to go get it all together.
:)
hey look
an ad with actual, real lindy hop and bal, not fake cabaret crap.
but you totally have to be a nanna to dance de lindy hop. that’s a given.
domestic djs
DJ lounge rooms via Germany.
firehouse five
My desire for the Firehouse Five (specifically this album) has forced me to think, even more seriously (as in, will probably do it) about emusic.
This band is in the vein of the New Orleans Jazz Vipers, the Firecrackers and other recreationist bands. Excepting the Firehouse Five are actually from the revivalist period (mostly). I’ve just bought this CD, but I think I could go on and on and on. I know it’s tighty-whitey cultural appropriation, but dang. The quality is good. And, well. You know. I want it. And thinking about music means I don’t have to think about the masses of reading I have left to do.
But the sudden plummeting dollar has meant that buying CDs is expensive, mostly because of the postage. I like to have the liner notes, emusic will hit me with an extra bill each month, but… instant music. Sweet. Cheaper music. Double sweet. I think I will use it for ‘taster’ songs, finalising my departure from itunes, and for albums by newer artists where I don’t need the liner notes. I think I’ll also keep back up copies on CD with copies of the album cover (just in case, and because I’m a bit ob-con).
teaching, dancing and making place space
Only half way through an article on taste (G. Hawkins ‘TV Rules’ UTS Review 4.1 May 1998, pp 123-139), I’m struck by the discussion of the ways in which ‘place becomes space’. How does a room become a ‘living room’, or a house become a ‘home’? Specifically, Hawkins is discussing (in the quote below) the ways in which children living in our homes force us to articulate the ‘rules’ of living in shared space. Or, in line with the discussion she presents, the ways in which articulating these rules gives us the chance to become reflexive about the way place is made into space by use. This isn’t exactly new stuff (this article alone was published ten years ago, and develops Barthes’ even earlier discussion of the cinema as place), but it suddenly seems important to me. Here’s the section that made me think:
Rules, then, are systems of order – they allow us to project ourselves into the world and project the world back to us. Rules are guides for how to act, how to be in t his space. Rules discipline in a productive sense: they produce meaning, they organise, they are creative, they make inhabitation possible. Rules are embodied in things and actions, they communicate. Rules are also specific, they take place in situ, each room is a unique system of rules and a unique network of power because rules and regulatory practices are provisional, they constitute objects for their own practice. And children elicit rules, for Wood and Beck they are the ultimate barbarians, they have to be domesticated and in the process of prescribing rules, adult values and meanings become manifest. Adult order is constituted and so too is the never ending struggle to establish it as dominant (Hawkins 128).
The thing that struck me, here, is the way in which pedagogy – teaching – makes us articulate and become aware of our assumptions about space/place. Teaching in universities forces me to think about the ways the material I am teaching ‘work’ in a broader social and cultural context. The most difficult parts of teaching cultural studies (for me) lie in teaching ‘class’ or ‘power’ or culture as articulation of/space for the negotiation of identity, class, power, etc etc etc.
The part I have trouble with is teaching this stuff in the context of the old school neo-Marxist cultural studies tradition. In that context, this discussion is, ultimately, geared towards social change. Teaching or study or research is not (and should not, it is implied), be neutral. It should be a part of a broader social project. Or, more plainly, activism. For me, one of the ways I justify what I do is by framing it as activism. Women’s studies doesn’t make sense, for me, without feminism.
I am excited by the idea of this stuff as having value or usefulness. It’s not simply ideas or theory in space – it has a job to do. It is a tool. It’s something we can use. Being raised by the sort of people who didn’t tolerate cruelty or injustice (social worker, decent person, animal activist…) has made me particularly aware of my responsibilities as a person. Simply, if I’m going to live here, I have to play nice. I have to do what I can to make things better for other people (and for myself as well). More clearly, I have a responsibility to play nice and be useful and helpful. I am sure there’s some scary gender stuff in there (isn’t that the way little girls are raised? To care, to be useful, to be helpful, to assist? Perhaps I should think more about leading or inspiring caring or begin project which require help?). But I find it makes me feel good to give a shit, and it also gives me purpose; it gives me reason for doing the things I do.
At any rate, teaching cultural studies has been difficult when I’ve been teaching wealthy kids at big, rich unis. I have found myself articulating this stuff in terms of ‘responsibilities’. When I was teaching this stuff to less privileged kids, I found that that approach was just plain bullshit. It became a matter of ‘rights’. This is one of the stickiest sticking places for me, teaching this stuff. And teaching – the breaking down and remaking and exploration of ideas – forces me to become aware of and to engage with my ideas and the ideas of authors at hand.
In another, connected point (where ideas must have practical applications), I’m absolutely struck by the way teaching works (in this context) in dance. I wrote quite a bit in my thesis about institutionalised pedagogy as a way of shaping ideology, or making ideology flesh. I placed it in opposition to vernacular dance practice – or learning on the social dance floor through more osmotic modes. Both are ideologically shaped and shaping practices. But I have trouble with pedagogy as capitalist practice – dance classes as product to be sold and bought… well, when it happens within a broader institutional context. Mostly because ‘selling dance’ on a larger, organised level demands homogeneity, and demands the disavowel of heterogeneity. In other words, it’s difficult to teach dance (in this context) without creating right/wrong binaries. The right way is, of course, the product you are buying. Everything else is wrong, and hence undesirable; you wouldn’t want to waste your money on it. Brand loyalty thus achieved.
But, continuing with this, I’m interested in the way dancers make ‘dance floors’ out of ordinary places. Hawkins refers to the role of emodiment (or bodies) in this process, largely via Barthes and his discussion of the bodily experience of the cinema (and at one point there was a reference to Frith** and taste, and there is of course reference to de Certeau). With dancers, this sense of embodiment is explicit.
The whole notion of ‘floor craft’, for example, where dancers learn (or choose not to demonstrate) the ability to dance ‘safely’ on the floor, not kicking or bumping into other dancers. Floor craft is a story of sociability and communitas, but it is also a story of social power. Which couples have the greatest liberty to ignore these rules? The most advanced. When is the idea of ‘sharing the floor’ set aside? In jam circles, where dancers display their abilities and status.
There are countless other examples. Lindy bombing involves groups of dancers descending on a ‘non dance space’ with music and dancing spontaneously (and often illictly). DJing functions as a way of making a place ‘space’. DJs often speak of the ‘feel’ or ‘vibe’ or ‘energy’ in a room – a palpable, physical emotion and sensation – and the ways in which they manipulate that experience. The very act of dancing, therefore, not only creates space, but – far more importantly – creates an emotional, social space as well. Sharing a dance floor is about engaging in a non-verbal social discourse which is all about the body. In fact, without the body, the space collapses back into place. It might carry echoes, but it is, essentially, nothing without the dancers.
I’m suddenly reminded of way I think about DJing the first set of the night: I imagine it as ‘warming’ the room. Sometimes this is a physical warming, but most of the time it’s a social, ideological, emotional, cultural, creative warming. I need to build the vibe or energy before I can manipulate it.
And to bring all this back to rules and articulating rules and teaching… dance classes are one step in the process of socialising dancers and teaching them how to make space out of place. I could argue that formal dance classes are in fact directly contributing to the breaking down of space – busting the vibe – because they insist on hierarchies and formalised, articulated modes of communication, but I’m not sure it’s that simple. I do know, though, that the discourse of formal, institutional, commodified pedagogy is an impediment to the process of making dance places spaces. This is because teaching is about verbalising dance and about shifting the way we ‘think’ dance from the body to the brain and language. And any dancer will tell you that the sweetest, most satisfying moment of dancing comes when you stop thinking or articulating and become thoroughly and completely in your body.
Roland Barthes 1989 “Leaving the Movie Theatre†The Rustle of Language Uni of California Press, Berkeley, pp 345-249.
Michel de Certeau 1984 The practice of everyday life University of California Press, Berkeley, pp. xi-xxiv.
Simon Frith 1996 Performing Rites Oxford UP, London.
Gay Hawkins ‘TV Rules’ UTS Review 4.1 May 1998, pp 123-139