#so i have gone to three different chinese new year festivals in the past two weeks

[killerandhealerqueen]

新年快乐!🐉

Happy Chinese New Year!🐉

Wishing you a prosperous year of the Dragon! 🐉

[ewh111]

Annual List of Favorite Film Experiences of 2019

Happy New Year! All the best to you for a fabulous 2020 and new decade! 

2019 was a busy year of traveling. Work took me back to China (three times), Japan, Korea, and first time visits to the Czech Republic and Australia. 

I had the opportunity of a lifetime when I helped lead a group of Harvard-Westlake faculty members on a culture and food themed trip to China with James Beard Award-winning food writer/chef Fuchsia Dunlop. As a big fan of hers, I invited her to join us as our culinary tour guide and she accepted, leading us through three regions of China with distinct cuisines (Chengdu, Hangzhou, and Shanghai). Over ten days, she curated 19 meals with over 300 different courses! For more, go to my first annual food post: https://ewh111.tumblr.com/post/189972112494/2019-food-lists

And now, here are my favorite film experiences of the past year. 

Cheers, Ed

The Best and The Favorite of the Year

Parasite

The less you know before viewing this metaphorical, fiercely dark, genre-bending comedy/horror/social satire of haves and have nots where everyone is arguably a parasite, the better. Korean filmmaker Boon Joon-ho creates a memorable, twisty, thought-provoking film experience with exquisite storytelling, stunning visuals, sudden tonal shifts, unexpected turns, and a terrific cast. Just take the journey and enjoy this masterful work that may be the best film of the year. Trailer: https://youtu.be/isOGD_7hNIY

Jojo Rabbit

Appealing to my affinity for the quirky, this one is my favorite film of 2019. Who knew that a story during the waning days of WWII about a 10 year old Hitler Youth, his imaginary friend Adolph Hitler, and his single mom who is hiding a Jewish girl in their attic would be so sweet and funny. While an absurdist witty satire on the surface, it’s really an anti-hate, coming-of-age story as we experience the world through the eyes of 10 year old Jojo as he confronts and reconciles “the other” he’s been taught to hate in the world around him. Delicately balancing whimsy and seriousness, Jojo Rabbit is a beautiful and soulful film thanks to a great cast, including a terrifically endearing Scarlett Johansson (while likely to garner more attention for Marriage Story, this is the more memorable character to me), the audacious Jewish-Polynesian director Taika Waititi as the sophomoric Hitler bestie, Sam Rockwell as an SS officer with a heart, and a wonderful Roman Griffin Davis in the title role. Trailer: https://youtu.be/tL4McUzXfFI

Racing Against Time

1917

Wow. Daring and bold filmmaking in one of the most realistic and visceral war film experiences since the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan. In a role that may be overlooked during awards season, George MacKay is a standout as one of the two soldiers sent on an impossible mission through No Man’s Land to deliver a message to prevent British forces from entering a massive German ambush. Oh, and via pure movie magic, director Sam Mendes and master cinematographer Roger Deakins tell this story in what seems like one continuous shot. I was totally drawn in by the Gallipoli-esque race against time, the real-time pacing of 24, and the immersive POV of a video game. The result is breath-taking as the camera dances around the soldiers, trenches, bunkers, and towns in a beautifully choreographed dance without distracting from the gripping storytelling. Trailer: https://youtu.be/gZjQROMAh_s

Ford v Ferrari 

An exhilarating, high octane, crackling thrill ride. The story of two obsessively passionate crazies, ex-racer and car designer Carroll Shelby (Matt Damon) and British race car driver Ken Miles (Christian Bale), who join forces with American corporate titan Ford to defeat Ferrari at the 24 hours of Le Mans in 1966. It’s pure adrenaline that non-racing enthusiasts can enjoy because of the well-crafted story and performances. Trailer: https://youtu.be/I3h9Z89U9ZA

Unforgettably Creepy and Disturbing

Joker

Joaquin Phoenix disturbingly and completely transforms himself into the pathologically deranged, downtrodden, and delusional part-time clown/aspiring comic Arthur Fleck in this origin story of Batman’s arch nemesis. Joker is a deeply disturbing character study of how an emotionally fragile individual on the fringes of society gets pushed deeper and deeper into the downward spiral of insanity to the breaking point.  Dark, edgy, and unsettling, Joker is not for everyone. But there’s no denying Phoenix’s brilliant, tour de force performance. (Unfortunately, my edginess was heightened in my screening by an audience member who was similarly laughing inappropriately like Phoenix’s character, which had me looking for the closest exit in the event of a disturbance). Trailer: https://youtu.be/zAGVQLHvwOY

Us

In his sophomore directorial effort, Jordan Peele has gone beyond the horror and social commentary of Get Out, and into even deeper, more chilling existential territory. In Us, Peele has created an All-American family terrorized by a creepy scissor-wielding doppelgänger family and spirals into more terrifying and mysterious terrain with a fabulous dual performance by Lupita Nyong'o. Who is Us? Is Us them? I’ll leave the metaphorical debate for later. Trailer: https://youtu.be/hNCmb-4oXJA

**Midsommar deserves notable mention in the creepy category–a slow-burn, dark tale of a young American couple’s vacation in the remote Swedish hinterland at a once-in-lifetime summer festival that goes creepily and morbidly wrong. Trailer: https://youtu.be/1Vnghdsjmd0

Masterworks by Tarantino and Scorsese

Once Upon a Time…in Hollywood

Perhaps Quentin Tarantino’s most mature film, Once Upon a Time…in Hollywood beautifully captures in painstaking detail a specific moment in time: Hollywood, 1969. A passionate homage and love letter to Los Angeles and the Hollywood scene, Tarantino blends a concoction of history and fantasy (a la Inglourious Basterds) in a buddy movie with Leonardo DiCaprio as declining TV hero/star and an endearing scene-stealing Brad Pitt as his stalwart stunt double/best friend whose lives fatefully intersect with Sharon Tate and the Manson family. While at times meandering (it’s less plot and more a series of vignettes), it is also at times spellbinding (an on set encounter between DiCaprio’s character and a fellow 8 year old child actor; Margot Robbie’s Sharon Tate watching herself on screen inside Westwood’s Bruin Theater). As the title implies, this is a quintessential Tarantino fairy tale: funny, yet warm, and, of course, violent. Trailer: https://youtu.be/ELeMaP8EPAA

The Irishman

An epic, career-capping entry into Martin Scorsese’s mob-themed oeuve, The Irishman appropriately brings De Niro, Pacino and Pesci together in this elegaic saga, complete with de-aging technology to tell the story of mob hitman Frank Sheeran (De Niro) through multiple flashbacks. And for those of us old enough to remember, the story helps to answer the unsolved question, what happened to Teamster head Jimmy Hoffa. Trailer: https://youtu.be/RS3aHkkfuEI

Family Dramas

Marriage Story

Scarlett Johansson and Adam Driver are top-notch in this raw, yet poignant, and ultimately life-affirming journey through the disintegration of a marriage and the logistical mechanics of the divorce process and custody fight seen from both sides as each struggles to reestablish priorities in their lives and redefine family. Trailer: https://youtu.be/BHi-a1n8t7M

The Farewell

We are told the film is “based on an actual lie” in the film’s opening titles; director Lulu Wang’s heartfelt, deeply personal, and charming film stars Awkwafina as a young woman whose grandmother (in China) has been diagnosed with terminal cancer but the entire family has decided to keep it a secret. Under the guise of a hastily planned family wedding, the family gathers to say goodbye to grandma. Capturing the uneasy tension between Chinese and American culture, questioning where one belongs and the role of family in our lives, Awkwafina shines in her first dramatic role, as does the rest of the supporting cast.  Trailer: https://youtu.be/RofpAjqwMa8

Little Women

Director Greta Gerwig follows up Lady Bird with another achievement, giving the classic 19th century Louisa May Alcott period piece a thoroughly modern feel with an effervescent cast and 21st century non-chronological storytelling. Saoirse Ronan leads a fantastic cast. Trailer: https://youtu.be/AST2-4db4ic

Two Funny Smart Girls, Two Religious Guys, and Only One Baby Per Family, Please

Booksmart

More than just a female version of Superbad, Booksmart is an impressive directorial debut for Olivia Wilde with the fantastic duo of Kaitlyn Dever and Beanie Feldstein (HW ‘11) as the “study hard” academic besties on a mission to “play hard” on the last night before graduation. Also memorable is the scene-stealing Billie Lourd (HW ‘10). This very funny and delightful coming-of-age pic stands out in the pantheon of teenage comedies not only for its quirky and smart tone, but for its inclusive and diverse three-dimensional characters, including LGBTQ+ and gender non-conforming teens whose sexuality don’t define who they are. Trailer: https://youtu.be/Uhd3lo_IWJc

The Two Popes

I didn’t expect a film that is essentially an extended conversation between two people would be so intriguing and gripping. The imagined conversation in 2012 involves two very different men, one the sitting pope who finds himself standing increasingly in the way of progress, and the other, his eventual successor looking to retire from an institution he is increasingly frustrated with. But with spot-on casting and terrific performances from Jonathan Pryce as the ABBA-humming future Pope Francis and Anthony Hopkins as the stoic, humorless intellect Pope Benedict XVI, The Two Popes is a joy to watch. Trailer: https://youtu.be/T5OhkFY1PQE

One Child Nation

This one’s a doc. From 1979 to 2015, China instituted the “One Child Policy” as a means of population control to stave off mass starvation. Documentarian Nanfu Wang, herself an exception to the policy and now a first-time mother, explores the enduring ripple effects of the policy that included forced abortions, sterilizations, abandonment of baby girls, and child trafficking. This powerful and devastating documentary looks at the multi-layered trauma–how it was carried out and the heartbreaking human and societal toll it has taken. Trailer: https://youtu.be/gMcJVoLwyD0

**Other documentaries to check out: Cold Case Hammarskjold, Where’s My Roy Cohn, The Biggest Little Farm, Leaving Neverland.

All Out Pure Fun Movie Experiences

Knives Out

An enthusiastic bundle of joy, Knives Out is Rian Johnson’s stellar, intricately crafted, Agatha Christie-like whodunit with a stellar cast who seem to be having as much fun as the audience. Trailer: https://youtu.be/qOg3AoRc4nI

Rocketman

Can’t help but compare this to Bohemian Rhapsody, but Rocketman is the superior and more entertaining musical biopic (using the term loosely). It’s bold, magical, and fantastical, as befits Elton John. Trailer: https://youtu.be/S3vO8E2e6G0

Other notables: The King, Avengers: Endgame, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, Honey Boy, Yesterday, Velvet Buzzsaw.

In the queue: Pain & Glory; Uncut Gems; Bombshell; Richard Jewell, The Last Black Man In San Francisco.

Favorite Binge-worthy TV Shows

Dark, Succession, When They See Us, Chernobyl, Mindhunter, Barry, Veep, Sex Education, Silicon Valley, Stranger Things 3, Don’t F**k with Cats

Special Shout Out to Dark

With elements of the mysterious strangeness of Twin Peaks and Stranger Things (minus the humor and camp) and the intricate intertwined storytelling and compelling characters of The Wire, Dark is the story of four families who live in a tiny German town situated next to a nuclear power plant (add a little of Chernobyl) who are inextricably connected through some strange cosmic phenomenon. Oh, and throw in a big dose of time travel. Dark is incredibly compelling and addictive. It is hands down the most complex and thoughtful (i.e., sophisticated and makes sense) time travel-themed story I’ve seen. Do yourself a favor and resist Googling anything about the show to avoid spoiling the experience. Just watch. There are two seasons worth at Netflix. And one more on the way. Trailer: https://youtu.be/S3vO8E2e6G0

[jazzinseoul]

Storytime: My Awkward Almost-Romance with My Language Partner

I’m currently on an Amtrak train from NYC -DC, and looking out the window has me feeling angsty and nostalgic.  Plus, being that I have 3.5 hours to kill, now seemed like the perfect time to recount the awkward almost-romance I had with my former Korean language partner. It’s been almost 4 years since this series of unfortunate events happened, and yet it still feels like just yesterday I was making a fool of myself.

PSA WARNING: LONG AND CRINGEY TOWARDS THE END

…

BACKGROUND INFO

It was the fall of my sophomore year of college.  Around mid-September, my Korean professor announced to the class that a coordinator from the Korea WEST program had contacted her about wanting to connect program scholars with our class to do language exchange. At first, not a single person in the class raised their hand. We were all still beginners and could barely communicate anything past basic phrases like “Where is the bathroom?” But eventually, a few of us were guilt-tripped into agreement.

My soon-to-be language partner contacted me via email a few days later, and we agreed to meet at a coffee shop near my university. Before then, we began texting over Kakao Talk. Back then, my Korean skills were even worse than they are now. He would literally send a two-sentence message and it would take me 10 minutes to respond because I was having to look up every other word in my Korean dictionary app. (God Bless You, Naver). Luckily, we were able to converse fairly easy in English when we actually met in person.

To be honest, my first impression of him was pretty neutral. He seemed kind of nerdy but kind. I think we talked for maybe an hour, mostly about my vast knowledge of Korean media and pop culture which seemed to both surprise him and entertain him. Regardless, I was just glad we had something to talk about. Especially since in our previous email this boy had been  wanting to discuss the history of Chinese-Korean relations (what?)

Anyways, it was casual and fun even though quite awkward at times. Afterwards, we agreed to meet every Friday once I’d finished classes. And that’s when things kinda began to take off…I guess.

SURPRISE: I CAUGHT FEELINGS

Being a cancer means that I’m constantly in my feelings, and unfortunately, it doesn’t take much to trigger said feelings. I think it was around the second or third meeting that said feelings were caught. We had met at a coffee shop, per usual. But this time he offered to walk me back to my apartment which wasn’t far from where we had been talking. The sidewalks in the neighborhood were tiny and riddled with signs about parking violations and traffic rules. That being said, it was difficult for us to both stay walking next to each other and I had to keep walking around the signs that stood annoyingly in the middle of the sidewalk. For some reason, he noticed and suggested that we switch sides so that I was no longer inconvenienced. He also used his arm to shield me from oncoming traffic as we crossed the street.

Now any normal person would think that this is just a person with basic human decency and manners. My sensitive ass, on the other hand, was ready to get married right then and there…lol. From that day on, he was in my head 24/7. Friday became my favorite day of the week. I constantly looked at my phone for messages from him. Each time I heard that squeaky Kakao notification, my heart began beating wildly. In other words, I was sick y’all.  Also, each time we met, he insisted on paying for my coffee. I was so shook each time he offered, and it made me like him even more (silly…I know).

It didn’t help that our conversations had gone from lasting one hour to three-four hours at a time. His English was already pretty good (he’d studied abroad in England before) so our time together was mostly to help my Korean.  So I’d bring my Korean books, which he’d help me with for awhile before our conversations somehow got onto some more interesting topic. We would literally just sit at a coffee shop and talk about everything.

In October, I changed my profile picture on Kakao  (I had just got box braids and was feeling myself.) He sent me a message saying that  he noticed that I changed my pic and that I looked pretty. When I tell you a bitch was on the floor. Oh my god. But having never dated in my entire nineteen years of existence, I didn’t know how to respond and quickly changed the topic even though I was screaming on the inside.

SUDDEN DEPARTURE/ A PRECIOUS BITCH

By November, pretty much my entire Korean class had all stopped talking to their language partners except for me. But I knew our time together was coming to an end. Korea WEST scholars were only in the city for six months to attend a language school. In December they were all supposed to move to NY and participate in an internship related to their college major.

But a little before Thanksgiving, I suddenly received a message from him one night after we had met. It read something along the lines off:

“I have bad news. My internship has been moved up and I’m leaving for New York in like a week. We were having so much fun at the coffee shop that I didn’t have the heart to tell you then…etc.”

When I tell you I was heartbroken, y’all. Now to be clear, we had never crossed any lines. We hadn’t done anything that could really be interpreted as romantic. But we had spent a lot of time together and developed a very special friendship.  So, we agreed to meet one last time before he left.

Many things were said, but the highlights were:

“To me, our relationship is very precious.” (His words not mine.)

“In Buddhism, it talks about how people are tied together by ropes. And I feel like the rope between us is very strong.” (Shut the front door.)

“Will you come to NY to visit me?” (BIIIIIITTTTCCHHH)

He walked me back to my apartment and we hugged. After that I didn’t see him for around three months. And that’s when I fucked up.

MEETING (AGAIN) AND DUMBASS DECISIONS

Distance does what it always does and we talked infrequently. I never went to see him in NY, mostly because I was broke and could barely afford paying to my laundry, let alone a bus ticket. He had talked about wanting to come into town for the annual cherry blossom festival. He finally set a date to come down, and in the weeks leading to his arrival we began talking often again.

Honestly, back then I don’t remember much of what was said because he was talking in Korean more and I didn’t understand many of the things that were said—especially when they were ambiguous in nature. Plus, my Korean wasn’t good enough to understand the nuances of the language. So anytime he said something that I thought could be flirty I doubted my interpretation. My self image back then was terrible and I just couldn’t believe that a Korean man could be interested in a chubby, black girl like myself. I was the polar opposite of the Korean standard beauty. Plus, I had a history of one-sided crushes. And felt that this wasn’t going to be any different.

Anyways, he came back into town and we met, spending basically the entire day together. First we went to a coffee shop. Then we went to an art museum. Next we went to the cherry blossom festival. The weather was fantastic so we stopped on a bench and ate chocolate he had brought me; plus, fed some random squirrel that had taken a liking to us. Afterwards we walked for about 20-30 minutes back in the direction of my campus. We grabbed dinner at a random spot, and that’s when things began to get awkward. I’m not sure exactly why. By then, we had spent at least 6 hours together and conversation had been flowing easily. But suddenly we were each saying nothing and both began scrolling on our phones.

Afterwards, we continued walking unintentionally in the direction of my apartment which is near a movie theater. He began to hint at wanting to see a movie, but I was so overwhelmed by nerves and butterflies and awkwardness that I just pretended I didn’t hear him and began speed-walking to my apartment. And then, suddenly, I was at my front door. (GAWD)

He waved bye to me and quickly walked away.

And that was the end. Well…kind of until we met again 6 months later in Seoul.

Moral of the story is…I’m dumb. If you agree, please like, comment, and subscribe.

[qdtquietdownthere]

Day 11- A day of reflecting in an art gallery and painting, glueing and giggling in the sun.

Day 11

The waking up process, if it can be called a process, is the trickiest part of the residency actually. Waking up in your own bed, in Tottenham, seeing your flatmates, talking about the day ahead. It is a different world. I have to go from that, to the tube, then be in Pimlico. To this new, yet familiar place of comfort. What is the most exhausting is this point of change and transition- waking up in the life you are used to then diving into a day of fresh, exiting, uncertainty. No one really understands whats going on, and no one really wants to listen to me describing every detail of my day. I do not think this is something I would enjoy to do either. It’s lonesome in this sense. A temporary community which no one else is experiencing. That is so special though. I feel useful, like my existence and participation means something. 

I am very aware it is ending. Second last day. I am so comfortable now.

I walk around the area following a gentle map. I have walked these streets before. The Thames, the Bridge, the view of brutal Battersea, the tiny parks and the contrasts. There are so many contrasting textures, architecture and people. An area of extreme wealth, and then a definite lack of it. I feel uncomfortable with it at points. In my favourite park which sits just behind Tate Britain I watch a very wealthy man spend half an hour with a puppy trainer and his pedigree puppy. He tells me they have traveled from Devon. There is a visible contrast when you look for it. You can maybe hear it more than you can see it. I hear coffee orders which are 3 minutes long, decaf, soy, skinny milk. At the community centre in Churchill Gardens a cup of tea will always be milk and one sugar. I wonder where I sit in this pool of people, I wonder where other people see me belonging.

CCA is based next to Tate Britain and I try to go in to see the degree show but I am told it ended last week. There aren't many students around, ever. The whole time I have been in Pimlico I haven't noticed anyone who jumped out to me as looking like a student (whatever that means). I guess they have all gone home for summer. Over the past week I have seen a few Chinese students, as I guess flying home at such a high price isn't necessarily an option for international students. I wonder about the loneliness of living in this city when your purpose of being here is to purely be a student. I did my undergraduate at Leeds and it was the loneliest time for me. Sometimes I would walk to town, to the big Boots and back, just to get out, see people and feel like I was a part of what everyone else was doing. I worked all through university but I didn't really hang out with work friends, and with a class size of 10, well, there wasn't much social life going on. I wish I had gone out more, joined societies. Even if they didn't interest me, I should have pushed myself. I was nineteen and maybe I was shy, but I think what kept me being lonely was a reluctancy to say I was lonely to anyone apart from my family and friends who all lived back home in Edinburgh. I think about the mother I met during the babies library session at Victoria Library and how she was frustrated there were no classes on for her thirteen year old son. Kids don't want to look uncool, and I think this can continue for some people into university. There is a pool of opportunity in this pool of young people who are desperate to engage in a world, but scared and uncertain how to. No one whats to stand out from the self conscious crowd of teenagers and there is opportunity in making activities which both work with, and eradicate this. 

I walk across the courtyard from CCA and find a different art show; “Observer: John Latham and the Distant Perspective”. Latham’s body of work explores derelict land outside of Edinburgh and was developed from an artist placement with the Scottish Development Agency. The three month long artist residences took place in different locations, from industrial settings such as fishing villages to a residency exploring the mental health care service (https://mapmagazine.co.uk/john-latham-incidental-person). What was the desired outcome of these residencies? Well, the hope was that by involving an artist, “his creative intelligence or imagination can spark off ideas, possibilities and actions” ultimately benefiting development projects in Scotland (Lyddon, 2007). When the committee introducing Latham to the project asked if the artist was going to solve problems, Lyddon replied “No, the artist is going to show us problems we didn't know were there”. In the end, if there is ever an end to a body of work, Latham decided to explore the area in Midlothian from an areal perspective, or ‘from the distance’. It was from this, and through interacting intensely with archival aerial photography from the area, he was able to map out distinctive land features from the shale industry and turn these into a piece of re-conceived monumental, or sculptural work. The act of doing this changes how the public interact with the local landscape. I find the work fascinating and oh so funny to have stumbled into work made in this context during my time doing the residency in Churchill Gardens. I haven't continued to read into the work of Latham, but it has brought up interesting ideas as to how perspectives of place, how history, and fresh eyes can have an impact on how individuals engage with space. I think of how my view of the streets have changed since I began engaging in the area. How the image of a street morphs the more you walk down it. How the build up of memories connected to place erode and evolve as you step away then interact with them again. I am lucky to know these streets now and I get an overwhelming sense to draw them. Once again I'm excited by the power of naming, of bringing into the spotlight, places or people to create a transformative effect on how we engage with them. As I have been unable to draw or make during my time on the residency, I have taken up naming and writing lists of names instead. My diary has one section which includes as many names I can remember from all the people I have interacted with since my time in and around Pimlico and Churchill Gardens. Drawing cements and validates a memory or idea through the act of mark making, and I believe the power of naming and writing these names validates all the connections I have had to people over the course of the two weeks. I have found this at least itches my little creative scratch. Or rather, it scratches my creative itch.

In the afternoon I return to the Thamesbank Centre to volunteer with Shambush as part of the South west festival. With children from the surrounding housing estates, Shambush are holding creative making events in local community centres to try and create a way for children to engage with art and their neighbouring communities. We work to a brief which is to design, paint and glue onto paper ‘solar panels’ these of space, which will later be put together and secured to a huge metal structure and presented as a space shuttle in the gardens of Tate Britain. For each making event a child attends in their local area, they receive a stamp on their ‘space engineer passport’. It is a fantastic idea and I find it so exciting to hear that there is an activity in place to connect these very separate housing estates which tend to never really mix. When speaking to both Shambush and the local children who come to do the making session, it is apparent that Tate Britain is another world to this community. Im not surprised. It is a twenty minute walk away, yet completely inaccessible as a cultural engagement. This is sad but a very real reality.  Fine art is most easily digested by those with the confidence to enter into the gallery space and those with the education to understand how to interact with it. 

The kids are wonderful and messy and giggly and I laugh a lot with two girls in particular. We are silly and happy and I feel in my element. I feel so lucky to be in this space making with such interesting and wonderful kids. A group of boys come over and make maths themed solar panels. One boy manages to name every dwarf planet in our solar system and I feel very stupid when I talk about the ‘fire hurricanes on Venus’ (he probably knows the scientific latin name for them). Its so great how the space works. We are outside, the sun is shining, kids come and go and there is a real sense that we are in the heart of the community. We are on Peabody estate on Tachbrook Avenue so the street is lined by beautiful tall flats. In its centre is the park which is connected to the community centre, so every flat can watch down on us. I speak to one boy who is in year 5 and he says because of the park he has lots of friends who are older and younger than him. It is a place for all ages. 

Throughout the day only two parents come and talk to us and engage with the activities. Its a shame because so often it is the parents who are cautious and scared to venture out and try new things, and go new places which ultimately gets passed down to the kids. When we age we tend to view creativity as something that we have or we don't have. The older we get the more we become aware that we can or cannot draw. The older we get the more we isolate ourselves from activities and places we don't feel comfortable, or that accentuate the fact we cant draw, or paint or act. The kids seem to want to come to Tate when we tell them their work will be shown there, but unfortunately that isn't enough, it is about the parents. Pimlico toy library was great for this, and Shelia was really passionate that she was creating a space which was confidence building for parents. This is vital. 

The children power through the activities and start getting a little bored. I suggest making some space themed origami fortune tellers. Im worried that maybe I should have asked before doing this but Shambush are lovely and energetic about getting stuck in and keeping busy. The kids seem to love it and I get a real sense of right. I don't really know how to describe it. I feel in my element. This is huge for me and something which means the world when you're at the start of a career as a young artist who is still trying to find her feet. I wouldn't have had the means to experience bringing ideas to a children's art session before this and I feel so lucky that I am in this position. I feel validated that it is met with so much enthusiasm. 

The afternoon wizzes past. The father of the two girls who I had spent a lot of time with is brought down by his carer to go to the park. From the top floor flat their mother calls them up to go and help with caring for the neighbours. They give me lots of cuddles goodbye and run off with hands covered in glue and crisps. I cant help but think about what a potentially tricky life they must have, but how wonderful and giggly they are. I wish I could meet their mother and tell her how great they have been. How great all the kids have been. I leave and have a little cry down the phone to my friend because I'm so sad it has ended. It felt pivotal for me as just me, as someone who is unsure of my next steps, of what areas of work I would like to pursue. It is because of this afternoon, and because of this residency that I have been given this opportunity and this space to gain confidence and experience in wonderful exciting and giggle fuelled roles. 

Today is one of the best days I have had. Volunteering gives the residency a whole new level as i feel I'm working as part of a service which is effecting change. This is something I have a growing need to do. Its a wonderful thing that these two great volunteering opportunities with Shambush and the food distribution with Mike happened on my last few days. I feel I am more ready for them at this stage. I think about the residency ending, but on a larger scale, I think about goodbyes. I am not very good at them. I am home and I'm writing lots, I will have vegetable ratatouille for tea and I am going to have a gin and tonic too, because the sun is shining and I am happy. Big day tomorrow. Sad day. Big day. Last day. 

[lagroupie]

Interview : Howlin’ Jaws (ENG)

Howlin’ Jaws through my Olympus Trip.

A few weeks ago, I took the train to Solothurn to meet the Howlin’ Jaws. They were playing a small 50s themed festival called Rock This Town, and they were also one of the youngest bands in the line up. By doing some research and getting to know them in person, I noticed we had a lot in common besides our age- they knew my hometown Lausanne really well, played with Shannon and the Clams (I’m a fan and even got to meet them four years ago!), and liked The Stray Cats- Needless to say the interview was a lot of fun. Even though it was really hot and the festival organization wasn’t the best, the band played a great show and made the sound people freak out, which I think was awesome. Join us as we talk about their lives in Paris, their latest EP Burning House, their intense Japan tour, and much more.

Welcome to Switzerland!

Lucas: Thanks! That’s cool that you got in touch with us.

Djivan: (ndlr: using a swiss idiom) C’est monstre cool. (laughs)

You said it so well, I barely noticed! It sounded very natural. It’s not the first time you’re playing in Switzerland right?

Baptiste: Yeah, it’s the third or fourth time I think?

Lucas: At least. We played in Lausanne twice, once at the Brasserie du Château and another time at Docteur Gab’s. Both times revolving around breweries! (laughs) We played in Bern and Basel as well.

Tell me a bit about your lives in Paris. What is a typical day like when you’re not touring?

Baptiste: I wake up and then I go hunting. (laughs)

Djivan: Usually we’re exhausted, because we party a lot.

Baptiste: Then we have to send emails and rehearse.

Djivan: Yeah, actually we rehearse and party a lot. Because that’s a big part of a musician’s life, networking with night owls!

Lucas: Just like athletes who have to maintain their cardio, we have to keep our rhythm by drinking every night. (laughs)

Baptiste: So yeah, a lot of rehearsals, and appointments with the people we work with. It’s great.

Howlin’ Jaws in action, through my old Canon.

That sounds so nice! I read in other interviews that you guys didn’t really have any side jobs.

Djivan: Yeah, actually I make microphones. If anyone is interested, it’s called Hepcat Pickups- great guitar and bass mics. We’re working with a guy called Stéphane Beaussart, it’s really cool.

Lucas: I’m doing a bit of freelance design. Plastic toys, speakers, things like that. Not much though.

Djivan: We actually have an engineer-designer in the band!

Baptiste: I do sculpting on the side. I sculpt stage-sets and I’m also an artistic sculptor.

Djivan: Baptiste has the intermittent du spectacle status (ndlr: a special status in France allowing people working in the music and art industry to get financial help from the state to make their art). Lucas and I are trying to get it as well, so we do everything we can to fit the requirements and work the necessary hours.

Baptiste: This doesn’t exist in Switzerland right?

No, it doesn’t. All my friends who are in bands are working on the side… It’s hard.

Djivan: Yeah. You have to make a living somehow.

Howlin’ Jaws in action again, through my old Canon.

I wanted to talk about your latest EP as well, Burning House. Where are you guys on the cover?

Lucas: We are in Chinagora. That’s in Alfortville, south east of Paris. You can see it from the périph’. I always thought the place was abandoned, it looks like a giant Chinese restaurant with a green roof and dragons. Actually, we went there and it isn’t abandoned at all, it’s a hotel with security cameras and people are coming and going! So we were there, and in the picture it looks like we’re in an industrial zone, that’s pretty funny.

Djivan: It’s by a photographer called Mauro Fiorito. He’s a friend of ours, he’s very talented. A great DJ too.

Baptiste: He is a fashion photographer as well.

Djivan: So he came and took pictures of us, and it made us very happy. We did great shots with him.

Baptiste: We liked one of these pictures so much that we used it for the cover. It was originally shot on a black and white film. Then we asked a graphist artist to colorize it.

Lucas: It’s our friend Vincent Vidor, aka Vangogo Artwork. We’re very happy about the result!

How did you proceed while making the EP? I though there was a slight change in terms of style- it sounds like you added some 60s into it!

Lucas: (ndlr: using French slang, saying that he agrees) Grave. De ouf!

That was very French of you! Grave de ouf! (laughs)

Lucas: A year ago, we knew that we would be recording in a month- so June 2017. So we worked a lot on these songs, whether it was on songwriting, sound or arranging. Then we went to Studio Mercredi9 in Paris. We spent about 5 days there. And we recorded everything on tape. We were able to use new ideas, things we had never done before.

Baptiste: We did the three first singles two or three years before the EP. So during three years we toured a lot, practiced our instruments, met a lot of people, played a lot of festivals… So we soaked up as much as we could, and then went into the studio with all these new ideas. So this EP is the logical evolution of our music.

Lucas: And now, we’re very happy about the result and we’re writing new songs already. We’re doing it all again for more songs, more cool and more wow and more monstre! (laughs)

Lucas through my Olympus Trip...

Could we talk about my favorite song off the EP as well? It’s Three Days!

Everybody: Woo! (laughs)

Lucas: That’s great to hear, it varies from people to people. That’s so cool.

Djivan: Some people have several favorites, some of them like I’m Mad a lot…

Lucas: But in general, the winners are Oh Well and Three Days.

Djivan: Yeah. She’s Gone has a lot of success too.

Baptiste: Three Days almost didn’t make it on the EP. We arrived in the studio with ten songs, and we had to choose 6. We hesitated a lot, Djivan really wanted to put it on the EP.

Djivan: I always believed in that song.

Lucas: Same here.

Baptiste: so in the end we put in the EP, and people really like it.

Lucas: Now it’s your turn to be interviewed. Why do you like this song? (laughs)

Well… I think the melody is very well written, and the chords at the beginning made me laugh because it reminded me of the Beatles! I also like when you sing “you know you crossed the line-line…” I think that was a great idea.

Djivan: When I listen to this song, I imagine myself driving a convertible car on an empty American road with cactus! And I would drive like this under the sun, while listening to this song…

Lucas: I imagine myself riding a scooter in Vercors. No helmet! (laughs) But yeah, we listen to the Beatles a lot. For vocal harmonies and arrangements for example.

...And here is Djivan.

Today you will play a show in the afternoon. Do you notice any differences when playing in the afternoon versus in the evening?

Djivan: Absolutely.

Lucas: Playing in the afternoon sucks, while playing in the evening is cool! (laughs)

Djivan: Nah, playing in the afternoon is cool too. But it depends on the state you and the crowd are in. It’s true that when you play late, people are more, let’s say, uninhibited; there is always a better atmosphere. However, playing in the afternoon is cool too. But the problem is that today is too early for us! We partied a lot yesterday.

Baptiste: We have done early concerts in the past that went really well. The atmosphere is just different.

Djivan: But playing outside is better in the afternoon. Too bad they put the stage inside while it’s so warm.

I also wanted to talk about your Japan tour. I heard there is a big rock’n’roll scene there. Did you notice any differences between the Japanese and the European crowd?

Everybody: Yes!

Baptiste: There is a huge scene over there.

Djivan: Japanese people are crazy!

Baptiste: The crowd really is the craziest. People over there are really into entertainment, the shows were insane. It was hard, because the standards were very high from the beginning. The bands playing before us were incredible. We ended the tour with a festival where we saw almost 50 bands in two days! Whether it was the small bands or the headliners, every show was amazing, very energetic. So people were very receptive to the atmosphere.

Lucas: And for the first time, we saw – I don’t know whether it happened during our shows – people sleeping near the stage! They drink and party so much from 5pm until 5am that they start to fall asleep with their heads on their bags, and people just leave them there. But they are 20 meters from the stage.

Finally, what can we expect from Howlin’ Jaws in the future?

Lucas: We are currently preparing our new babies, writing little songs that we like a lot.

Djivan: We will make a new album pretty soon, it’s coming.

Lucas: We have a new music video coming as well.

Djivan: We are working on a lot of great things, it’s going to be awesome.

https://www.facebook.com/Howlin.Jaws/

[cyjprojectarchive]

accidentally | youngjae

a cyj fic fest 2017 entry prompt: birthday - piñata in which you’re at a mutual friend’s birthday party and it’s his turn to hit the pinata but you really wanted some more food so you pass by what you thought was fast enough but you get hit with a golf club instead. genre: fluff, college!au  words: 5705

i hope you enjoy the first fic i wrote for this fest! it’s quite long but i had fun writing this for a couple of days, it was a cute concept in my head and i hope i did it justice. 10 days more ‘til youngjae’s birthday! c:

It was stupid, really. Since Jackson didn’t go back to Hong Kong for spring break, he still wanted to celebrate his birthday at his apartment. For the three years you have known the Chinese man, he always returned home during this time, so you already had a set routine for yourself  for the two weeks he’s gone. It would’ve been a waste to go home yourself since you have work, and a lot of people request day offs so they can spend their vacation not working, so you had always stayed.

Not like you have anything else to do at home, anyway.

You had developed a quick friendship with Jackson when you met him at an International Welcome Week as he was assigned to your care, and you clicked instantly. He was already fluent in English, and more importantly dead set with learning a lot from you seeing your credentials. Thinking he would be too much of an extrovert compared to your quiet demeanor, you actually experienced a lot of new and exciting things from Jackson as well. You two balance each other out, and the fact that you and him are still friends up until junior year of university says a lot.

You had just arrived at your own apartment from an early night shift, excitement bubbling inside as you can finally continue watching Weightlifting Fairy: Kim Bok Joo. You’d ask Jackson to watch with you, but he was probably off doing whatever social activity he hasn’t checked off his bucket list yet. All of your other friends had gone home, sadly, so it was only you, a bag of chips and eight one-hour long episodes of fresh, fun and not to mention heart fluttering K-drama.

As soon as your hands prepare themselves to hear the air deflating out of the unhealthy bag of junk food, your phone rings. Rolling your eyes, you set aside the chips and grab your phone from the coffee table.

You already know who it is.

“No, I am not coming with you,” you tell Jackson immediately, propping your legs on the table, making yourself comfortable. “Drag Mark along, or Bambam-- he hasn’t flown back to Thailand yet, right?” Interestingly so, most of the close friends you have formed were the people you met alongside Jackson during that welcome week for international students.

“I haven’t said anything yet!” Jackson whines, and you can already imagine his doe eyes and pouting lips.

“I already know what you’re going to say, Seun. And I don’t have the money for it.”

“Aren’t you working?”

“Some of us have loans to pay off before we die,” you counter. “So, what are you doing this time? Kart racing? Surfboard classes?”

“Actually, you butthead,” Jackson replies, a teasing tone to his voice. You groan at the pet name, but let him continue. “I’m hosting a party tonight-- for my birthday! You’re invited, duh,” he exclaims, probably flailing his arms in joy. You raise an eyebrow in suspicion--a birthday party?

“I thought we were just going out to dinner tonight with the others? You promised you would make it simple and private,” you defend, remembering that one conversation you had with him on how to spend his birthday this year that he’s staying. He already had a ton of things planned for his birthday week which you were excited about--for him, that is. You had to beg him not to include you in any of the (expensive) festivities he booked. You and him are already attached to the hip on a daily basis, he should understand when you need time for yourself--and your wallet.

“I did...before everyone else encouraged me to throw a birthday bash instead!” Jackson protests, and you roll your eyes at how easily he can be convinced when the word party or  bash is mentioned.

Everyone else was the organization he had joined specifically for international students, and he’s living in one of their designated dorms so he is pretty close with almost all of them. Jackson, and your few mutual friends, usually hung out at your place since they had the transportation available and you were just running on your feet, the free shuttle system or your worn out bike.

But it was understandable--Jackson was more on the fortunate side, in terms of finance. Most of the international kids were enrolled with scholarships in their name, so you could see how they wouldn’t spend that much money on airplane tickets just for less than two weeks of break.

Sighing, you give up in reasoning out that you would much rather enjoy a peaceful evening with the friends you’re close with. Remembering this was Jackson’s birthday, and not yours, you comply.

“Fine, what time should I--”

“Great! I knew I can count on my best friend!” Jackson cuts you off, then you hear him call out someone’s name in Chinese, and you had a hunch on who it was. He comes back to the phone and adds, “Mark will pick you up in about thirty minutes so get ready. Don’t forget my gift!”

And there goes the line.

Some minutes past thirty goes by, and you are smoothing out the pastel blue faux leather skirt you decided to wear. A small black and white patterned paper bag rests on the table and you made sure to put your name somewhere on it. You hear the familiar sound of the KKT ringtone pop, and you read the text from Mark saying he’s parked right in front of your door when you were already making your way outside, gift in hand.

Mark nods his head in acknowledgement, and you salute back. As soon as you close the door for the passenger seat, he starts driving off.

“What’d you get him?” Mark interrupts the quiet, increasing the volume of the radio at the same time. You look down on your present, pretty pleased with the outcome after only so many tries. You hadn’t used your watercolor materials in a while, so painting Jackson the landscape of the Hong Kong skyline gave you the much needed practice, anyway.

“Why? Stealing my idea before he finds out you haven’t gotten him a gift yet?” You chide playfully, side eyeing the Taiwanese man with a grin. Mark scoffs, shaking his head in amusement before saying, “Yah, I bought almost everything he needed for the party. And besides, I wouldn’t be able to recreate what you made him in less than a few hours.”

You gape at him. “How’d you know I made his gift?”

Marks glances at you, lips smirking that makes the female lowerclassmen you pass by on campus swoon over. “Oh, I know.” You huff a breath, turning your head towards the window to hide your flushed cheeks. You hear Mark laughing to himself before saying, “Jackson is going to love it,” pertaining to your small painting.

Your smile grows on your face.

You weren’t expecting this many people at the party.

Apparently, Jackson was friends with almost everyone, especially the Chinese, Japanese, and Korean students since he was pretty good at conversing with all of their languages. You kind of envied the dude since he has been exposed to a life of different colors and cultures early on, but you know how tiring it can get for him always being the life of the party.

When you saw him waiting for you outside the clubhouse, though, he seemed relaxed and laid back. Arms wide open for you to embrace him back, Jackson looks...happy.

And you’re glad--the only reason he has always been adamant in returning to Hong Kong was to be with his parents again. Being the momma and papa’s boy he is, you always catch him staring absentmindedly at his lockscreen--that is a picture of his parents.

So when he told you he wasn’t leaving this time, you were slightly worried. But not anymore, as you can tell from the carefree smiles he has been wearing since you arrived at the scene that he felt comfortable.

Mark had swiftly hidden your gift among the others because both of you knew he wouldn’t be able to wait to open it. Surprisingly, he didn’t even ask for it as he started introducing you to friends you have only heard of from his own recollections. Your hand feels dry and your confidence deflated after meeting so many people at once, so you ask Jackson where the food was, and he points out a long table full of different kinds of dishes as he kisses you on the cheek before hurrying off to interact with new guests arriving.

You spent almost forty five minutes hanging out by the concessions table, trying out each and every type of food available. You really liked the takoyaki with an excessive amount of sauce spread all over it. You also had a bowl of tteokbokki, and mustered up the courage to try some chicken feet--which was the bomb, by the way.

Most of the guests were at the main hall either dancing silly or playing some games, and you preferred making yourself full for three days in the spacious area of the dining hall. You found Bambam earlier, beating everyone at limbo, and you had met his best friend, Yugyeom, who was killer on the dance floor. While finishing up your feast, Jinyoung had approached you with a quiet Jaebum in tow and you had a lovely conversation--more like nostalgic rants--on Jackson’s energetic vision for life, and how you guys have been partners in crime for most of them in separate occasions.

You went back to the living room to watch people try and destroy the piñatas attached to the ceiling, and you asked Mark what was inside. He chuckled and zipped his lips, refusing to tell you what they were. You smack him on the shoulder lightly, but proceeded to watch with amusement anyway as people attempt and fail most of the time.

Jackson was the host, per se, “volunteering” people to join and encouraging them all the way--Mark gave you a clue in saying that Jackson did most of the stuffing of the party prop, so you can only imagine what kind of goodies he has in store for his guests tonight.

You were quietly enjoying your bingsu, cubed mangoes with condensed milk flavored shaved ice freezing your mouth with pleasure. You had debated whether or not to get more drizzle on your dessert, and seeing as the piñata game had paused to find new members, you ought to make your way past the center of the room to get back to the dining area.

Everyone was crowding around the piñata, so you had to squeeze in bodies of people and scurry out of the noise, making sure your frozen treat was unharmed. Students around you start chanting for a certain name to finally crack open the massive bird-shaped piñata overhead, so you quicken your pace. Back hunched with both hands holding onto your bowl, you quickly make your way through.

Hollering and flailing arms proceed to distract your way out, but before you notice a certain gap emerging from where you were standing, you had already dropped the bowl and feel yourself falling onto the floor with a loud thud, head spinning all of a sudden.

The lighting from the ceiling becomes a gradient of white to gray to extreme blackness. You notice the green piñata was nowhere to be seen from up there, so you turn your head--which you groan outwardly in retaliation (you don’t hear it clearly, so you think you only imagined yourself crying for help)--to inspect your surroundings, watercolors washing away the clarity of your vision. It takes a string of voices to strain your line of already disorganized thinking, and you will yourself to speak up, reach out, breathe normally, but you succumb to the sudden invitation of sleep in the end.

“I don’t want to go back to Korea now!”

“What the hell are you talking about, Jae?”

“Oooh, good bye music scholarship, hyung!”

This is all you hear--or understand for the matter--since the next words being uttered by a range of different voices become incomprehensible. You feel yourself waking up, though your eyes are still shut  due to the brightness hitting the back of your eyelids, only causing your forming migraine to grow more quickly. You try and listen in to the conversation, putting in certain phrases you have heard from someone before--Korean, it’s Korean.

Finally, you identify Jackson’s low and concerned voice, spewing Korean and English messily in his sentences. Another person answers him, more calm and organized in his speech--even though it was in Korean--and you surmise it may have been Jinyoung as you vaguely remember speaking to him sometime today before…

Before what?

“She’s awake.” That was Mark, and you don’t know how he managed to notice your consciousness, but you do begin swatting Jackson’s arms wrapped around you in a frenzy.

“Don’t die on me yet! What about your loans?” He shrieked, managing to keep you in his grip.

“J-Jackson, I c-can’t--what--” you squirm in place, that seems to be a… plush mattress.

“She just got injured, Jackson-ah. Let her breathe,” Jinyoung warned, and you strain your eyes to look for him in the room. As you spot him on your left with crossed arms, Mark is seated next to him on the chair, and Jaebum standing idly behind, eyes focused on his phone. Jackson finally lets you go, and you capture Bambam and Yugyeom’s worried expressions standing at the foot of your bed.

Your eyes wander to your very right where a woman in all white is watching you with a friendly gaze, chart in hand and a glass of water in the other. Another guy--probably a student your age--fidgets next to her, head full of thick black hair in your sight as he refuses to look at you. His pale fingers intertwine and release simultaneously, and you wonder who he is.

“How are you feeling, butthead?” Jackson asks, this time with a more relaxed demeanor. You shift your gaze towards his presence, nodding your head carefully before muttering, “I’m… uh… what exactly…” You couldn’t even finish your train of thought as your migraine continues hammering your head. Squirming outwardly, Jackson tries to reach out to your fragile being but someone holds him back.

“Don’t try and strain yourself, you’re still feeling weak,” the woman in white chimes in, walking closer to the bed. You lift up your hand with the little strength you have and place it on your forehead, only touching a rough texture preventing you from doing so.

“You have a bandage wrapped around your head. You experienced a mild concussion from getting hit on the back of your head a few hours ago. Your friends, well, Jackson specifically, carried you all the way here to get it checked out immediately--not like it’s a far walk, but that’s not an easy feat for someone carrying another person,” she explains, and although it may have been information overload, her voice was mellow and slow--which made you understand the situation a bit more.

“I’m Sana, by the way, your attending nurse! Here’s some painkillers and water to gulp it all down. I expected you’d wake up by now, so I called all the boys in--if you don’t mind,” Sana adds, placing the medication on the palm of your hand which you swallow in a second. You gingerly take hold of the glass and drink in the water in three gulps.

“You may be feeling faint tonight, and out of your element for a few more days, but after spring break you’re sure to recover completely. Just don’t overexert yourself for now, okay?” The nurse tells you, and you frown at her last statement.

“We already called your work, they’re willing to give you the days off,” Mark informs you and reflexively you shoot Jackson a look who shares you an innocent grin. You don’t think you’re allowed to argue right now, heck, your eyes are starting to droop once again.

“I’m going to have her stay in the night and when she’s a bit more capable, I can let her go tomorrow morning. I’ll just call either one of you, is that okay?” Sana asks the boys, but your head slightly turns to the right, wanting to know who the other one is who still had his head down.

“Call me first! I’m on her official emergency contacts list, and I already cleared everything for tomorrow so I’m free to help her out,” Jackson exclaims.

Someone scoffs and says something in Korean which made Jackson whine in response. Everyone starts leaving and you catch Mark asking Jackson if he’s fine on his own with you, then Bambam asking about the party, then Jinyoung wishing you a safe recovery but you’re too exhausted to wave your hand and say your thanks for now.

Eyes half closed, you watch Sana approach the guy in a black sweater and gray sweatpants, patting his shoulder and whispering in his ear at a safe distance. He lifts his head up ever so slightly, eyes red and brimming with fresh tears. He sniffles them away and with his sweater paw, rubs the side of his cheek vigorously to which Sana responds with a reassuring smile. She looks at Jackson one more time, then you, and eventually heads out of the room.

“Who…” you croak out, attempting to sit up. The guy in question perks up, shoulders tense and ears flaming red.

“There was an accident at the party--when we were trying to destroy the piñata,” Jackson explains for you, but you dismiss him with a slight wave of your hand still resting on the bed. You’re slowly figuring out what caused for you to suffer slight head trauma and make you technically jobless for the rest of spring break. You wanted to be frustrated knowing you went out today for your best friend and in turn, have a good time--not end up in the infirmary.

“In Youngjae’s defense, I suggested we use the golf clubs no one ever does for a stick, and I did spin him too many times before letting the club swing.”

“Youngjae?” you repeat, testing the name in your tongue. Again, his breath hitches and you see his twiddling fingers tremble. “Did you hit my head with the golf club?”

You don’t know whether he spoke fluent English or not, so with much desperation you wanted to ask Jackson to translate for you, but after a few moments he finally spoke up, eyes big and watery staring right into you.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t--you… You you were there the moment I stopped spinning and the golf club was so heavy in my grasp so I wasn’t able to properly hold it and the next thing I know I just swayed it in whatever direction and I-I heard a loud noise and so I dropped the club and I-took the blindfold off but it was t-too late..you… You were already on the floor and Jackson hyung already carrying you and--”

Youngjae’s voice was on the verge of cracking, dark brown orbs aching with regret and so is his tone, sweat trickling down his temples and onto his collarbone showing, the oversized sweater on him too constricting, too hot for his body running on pure desperation for forgiveness.

If he wasn’t this troubled (and cute) in apologizing, you would have sued. No, you’re kidding-- it’s the meds. EIther way, he seemed apologetic enough, and assuming his one of Jackson’s friends you really didn’t want to go hard on him.

“It’s okay, Youngjae,” you manage to mumble, the painkillers engulfing you in its effects too soon. “I appreciate you coming here to see me.”

“I-I had to. I wanted to! I wanted to know you’re okay and not badly hurt. I’m really, really sorry,” he continues on, a voice so smooth like honey tainted with drops of sadness. Now you feel bad for making him worry.

“Really, Youngjae. I’m--I’ll be okay. Just need...s-some….rest.”

And then you pass out again.

The second time you wake up, the room was dimly lit. Headache gone, you are finally aware of your surroundings, maybe even hyperaware. You sit up in panic, breath heaving in long and loud intervals, the beating of your heart and thumping of your veins ringing in your ears.

“What-what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Should I call Nurse Sana?” A familiar voice calls out to your panicking figure, and you whip your head to the sound. It was Youngjae, his face illuminated by the moon shining above his head out the window. It was like he was glowing, radiating in front of you--or maybe it’s the side effects of having a concussion.

“Youngjae? What- what are you still doing here?” You ask abruptly, gulping down the anxiety that attacked you. Only then did you realize Youngjae had held onto your hands as one of his own scratch the back of his neck in embarrassment. You are still entranced with the way the moon’s glimmer accentuates his soft features to feel his hand squeezing yours.

“I-I stayed. Jackson’s party continued on after we--he carried you here. He wanted to keep you company the whole night but he had people to thank and he also felt guilty letting the others clean up afterwards. He was in great conflict, but I told him I can watch over you,” Youngjae relays to you, voice a bit hoarse and dry but you didn’t mind--it still made your stomach churn in confusing delight to hear him speak. You know he’s trying his best to speak English with the way he carefully rolls the letters out of his tongue with words either too tricky or too long--it was cute.

“I see,” was all you could reply, feeling the heat flushing your cheeks. You make the mistake of glancing downward to your entwined hands, and so Youngjae abruptly retracts his grip, but you pull it back in.

“No, I..um.. I like it that way. If it’s okay,” you mumble, bringing his hand back down to your side, cupping his palm with your cold fingers. You feel him stiffen at your touch, but as his shoulder relaxes so does his hand before reconnecting the gaps between your fingers and his. You feel at ease again.

“I’m sorry if I startled you. I got alarmed when I realized the lights were out,” you confess, looking around as your vision adjusts to just the availability of natural light hitting the room.

“Do you want me to turn the ceiling light on?”

“No, no. This is fine. I can see you perfectly fine,” you reassure him, debating whether or not to smile at him to know you were really content with your situation. If you did, you might just blush harder at his concerned expression; if you didn’t, you don’t know how much you can take in the the waves of whimsical emotions coursing through you.

“Oh, I refilled your glass,” Youngjae points out, taking the cup from the bedside table. He offers it tentatively, but you nod your head in approval as you purse your lips towards the object. Youngjae tilts his head in confusion, not quite understanding what you wanted from him.

You giggle softly. “My hand is kind of preoccupied right now,” you remind him, eyes momentarily narrowing at your intertwined hands before bringing them back up to see Youngjae grinning bashfully at you.

“You have another one over there,” he plays along, pursing his full lips to your free hand which you hid underneath the sheets. You raise your eyebrows knowingly, and it’s the first time you hear him chuckle--throat still scratchy from being awake at probably three in the morning, but a beautiful sound nonetheless.

“It’s a bit unavailable at the moment,” you conclude, shrugging one shoulder.

Shaking his head, Youngjae laughs breathlessly this time before closing in on you, body mere inches from yours and the glass of water ready for you to intake. Opening your mouth slightly, he dips one corner downward, a stream of distilled water going down your throat as you gulp. You try not to notice his eyes watching your every sip, even his lips mimicked your own and you swore you saw his tongue dart out for a second too long.

You finish the glass, and Youngjae sets it back down the table, other hand never leaving yours. You mutter a soft thanks to which he grins with his lips, eyes crinkling and your heart fluttering even more.

“So, uh, you’re not mad at me anymore?” He asks you. You shake your head. “I never was, Youngjae. Well--I was frustrated when I first woke up but it was more due to the fact of losing consciousness. Other than that, I didn’t get angry. It was an accident,” you confirm.

“It was my first time trying to wreck a piñata, actually. I admit I got too excited. Hyung has always celebrated his birthday back in Hong Kong, so I was really happy he decided to stay this year,” Youngjae admits, and you nod in understanding. It was cute that Youngjae kept Jackson’s honorific despite speaking in English; you wonder why the Chinese man never introduced you to him before.

“Not to offend you or anything, but why have I only met you now? I mean, I don’t talk to the other as much as I do with Jackson, Mark, and Bam but Seun had personally introduced me to them before,” you comprehend.

“Oh, I guess we never got the chance to. I always hang out with the Music major kids like myself, and Jackson hyung and the others coincidentally go to classes close to each other,” Youngjae says sheepishly. “And as far as I know, you rarely hang out over here and I usually spend time with them more back in the dorms.”

“That sucks. I would’ve been interested in hearing you play the instrument you’re focused on,” you say quietly. “If you were comfortable with that, of course!” You feel like you had to point that out, with the hand holding at the moment and what not.

“No, yeah. I’m still a bit shy with playing the piano by myself, but I’ll be glad to show you a piece or two that I’ve been working on,” Youngjae simply admits, and you glance up at him to see his eyes shimmer in the incandescence of the night. He sounds genuine, and nervous-- but you appreciate the honest show of emotions for you, too, are a hot and flustered mess right now.

“Who do you normally play with?” You ask instead.

“Sometimes, when I want to hear the guys’ opinions, I have Jaebum hyung to help me sing some part while playing the piano. It eases my nerves, but I know I have to learn how to perform by myself, and not shrivel up in a ball every time I do so.”

“That sounds like something I’d do,” you say, lightening up the mood. “But I’m sure you’ll get there, Jae--” you place your free hand on your mouth, not believing the nickname slipped out so… effortlessly. Youngjae doesn’t seem to be bothered as he gives your hand a light squeeze. “You can call me, Jae,” he reaffirms as your hand back track from your lips.

You spend the rest of the late night chatting and getting to know each other more, but you had seen Youngjae yawn a few times in conversation, and you were too afraid to tell him that your migraine was coming back. Fortunately, he noticed when your hand involuntarily creeps up onto your bandaged forehead to massage the area only to find out the barrier keeping you away from it.

“So, I literally kept telling him I didn’t want anything grand on my birthday, but lo and behold what shows up on my doorstep? A puppy! A freaking puppy--oh my god, how are you doing that?” You were in the middle of recalling the first birthday you celebrated knowing Jackson when a foreign yet calming sensation runs through you from your entwined fingers. Youngjae was still looking at you, intently listening to your stories before realizing you had asked him a question. He stops rubbing his thumb over the sweet spot, and you frown.

He laughs with the sound you had instantly fallen in love with (already, you think) and says, “It’s a technique I learned from a class I took last semester. There’s an area on the back of your hand that is somehow connected to headaches or migraines, so if you put just the right amount of pressure on that specific spot it helps with the pain.”

“That’s--that’s useful information,” you sigh comfortable, leaning into your bed. “I’m sorry our conversation has to be cut short.”

“We have time to catch up.” Youngjae chuckles, letting his thumb push into your skin and you yawn for the nth time that night. You don’t know how many hours had passed since you woke up for the second time. You don’t figure it out as you enter sleep for the third time in less than twenty-four hours with Youngjae’s warm touch sending you to dreamland.

You wake up comfortably this time, expecting the same hands resting themselves in between yours. But as you collect your conscience, you feel… bare.

“Good morning, butthead.” Only one person in the world called you that and was ever allowed to. Your eyes flutter, seeing Jackson in a tank top and basketball shorts hovering next to you, a tray of savory smelling breakfast food in hand. “Nurse Sana said it was complimentary,” he adds with a grin.

Sitting up gingerly, you rub your eyes with the hand that lost its warmth. You pout, wondering where Youngjae went-- probably home as he wasn’t obligated to stay with you for that long, right?

“I’ve been holding this breakfast tray for so long now, so if you’re not eating then I will!”

You roll your eyes-- Jackson already at his element so early in the morning wasn’t a rarity, but someone’s absence was really making you all kinds of confused and frustrated.

But you hear your stomach growl quietly underneath the white sheets, and Jackson notices before placing the tray on your lap, demanding you get your nutrients for the day. You decide to distract your mind with food--it usually works.

You share breakfast with Jackson, asking him what went on at the party after you left. Everyone seemed to be worried, he recalled, but someone was finally able to crack open the piñata and the energy resurged. You asked him what was inside and he made you guess, twinkles in his eyes.

You snort, thinking of the best yet impossible thing he could ever put into those piñatas. “Organic green tea bags?”

Jackson stops biting his scrambled eggs midway as he looks at you surprisingly. You give him the same look, swallowing before letting the laugh escape your lungs. You were right--of course.

After you finish eating, Jackson returns the tray outside while Nurse Sana returns to check if everything has been going well for you. She instructed to take the pain medications when you feel it is at a level seven, giving you the paper bag with the prescription inside. Repeating her warning about not overworking yourself, you nod vigorously.

You are ready to head home. You already feel icky with your clothes, so you want to take a shower as soon as possible. You receive a text from Jackson saying he is waiting outside with Mark, ready to drive you home. Thanking Nurse Sana yet again, you make your way outside the patient room.

Opening the door, you don’t look when you advance head first, someone in your way. Luckily, they grab you by the shoulders to push you back, avoiding another collision. Are you really that careless to get another concussion?

“Easy,” Youngjae chuckles, and it takes you a second to realize he’s back. He’s here… with different clothes?

“I don’t want to give you another concussion,” he jokes, letting go of your shoulders. Blinking rapidly at him, you shake your head and gush, “No, no. This time it’s my fault! Sorry.”

Giving him a quick scan, his black hair was damp and face looking fresh and cleaner. He notices you staring, embarrassingly, but he explains, “Oh, I-- I went back to my dorm this morning to shower and change. You didn’t seem like you were waking up soon so I thought I had time before you did.”

Putting a hand over your mouth, you’re suddenly conscious of your own hygiene--you haven’t brushed since last night, good lord. It was also a way to hide the blush warming your cheeks, but talking to Youngjae in the morning was a different sensation all over.

During the moonlight, his presence was a calm sea of waves washing over you. In the morning, he was bright and blooming--making the sun drop to its knees at how vibrant Youngjae appeared to be.

“So, are you going back to your place?”

“Y-yeah. I need to shower too,” you blurt out, voice mumbled from your hand. He nods, stepping back so you have space to come forward.

“I saw Mark hyung’s car outside with Jackson hyung. They’re probably waiting for you,” Youngjae surmises. You frown behind your hand--you don’t want to go, better yet you want Youngjae to stay with you.

“Do you want to come with?” You say in a small voice, removing your hand but making sure he can hear you. “I mean, the guys are probably going to hang out at my apartment for a while, so do you want to join us?”

You really didn’t know what he would say, considering that you did just meet a day ago. But the conversation last night made you long for more, and you have high hopes Youngjae feels the same.

“I guess this is us catching up,” Youngjae beams, sending your mind in a frenzy with a flash of his smile. “I’d love to come with.”

And that is just the start.

[globalsource-blog]

The Taiwan Correspondent - Episode 1

It’s been a while since I’ve written a piece on here about my travels. Since moving to Taiwan I’ve been busy to say the least, but the time is now, and here I present to anyone who cares to read it my attempt to distil into writing some sense of what I’ve been up to in my first two months on this Illa Formosa.  

I arrived here, by way of Dubai, on the evening of the 31st of August. When I’d reclaimed my bags and passed through immigration without having to present any of the many documents, photocopies and extra passport photographs which I’d brought like magic charms to ward off evil spirits, I caught the airport train into the city of Taipei. I was headed to a hostel right by the main train station, which was a welcome thought as my bags were weighed down with books, my tent, sleeping bag and camp stove… I’d had a hard time deciding what to bring, and in the end decided on pretty much everything, stopping short of a skateboard. I caught the train at just the right time to watch the last half hour of golden daylight washing over hillsides whose wooded slopes were interspersed with small brick buildings, the occasional temple and gradually more and more concrete as we came closer to Taipei. On arrival, I shouldered my bags and set out to find my hostel.

Unfortunately, the universe had decided that I should first make a brief tour of the neighbourhood with the help of an energetic man who spoke bad English, worse Chinese and claimed to be called Henry. He also claimed to be from Portsmouth despite his strong and distinctly non-English accent, and was evasive when I asked what he was doing in Taipei. Anyway, he was keen to help me find my hostel, and proceeded to do exactly the opposite by leading me in every possible wrong direction, bags and all, in the heat of the Taiwanese evening (around 30 Celsius at the time). Eventually he seemed to lose interest, and with a vigorous handshake, passed me off onto a pair of local girls, insisting that they help me. Bemused and a little relieved, I was not unhappy to see that strange and enigmatic individual stride away into the night. Free to make my own way, I soon came to the hostel, passing by at least five convenience stores, a temple (Taipei’s streets are home to many Taoist and Buddhist places of worship) and many of the small, family-run restaurants open to the street which are characteristic of Asian cities. I had booked into Flip Flop Main Station Hostel, whose slightly strange name, according to their website, reflects the “flip flop philosophy”, which seems to have something to do with a laid-back travelling mentality and also their no-shoes-inside policy. In all honesty I could take or leave the philosophy, what I required was a cold shower and a bed, and after checking in I took full enjoyment in both. After hours of breathing recycled cabin air, trying to escape the Duty Free maze in Dubai and tramping around Taipei like an overladen pack mule, I was ready for a long sleep.  

I’d discussed doing a work-exchange program with the hostel management in the weeks prior, with the aim of earning free accommodation in return for some kind of work on my part. I’d billed myself as a kind of human Swiss-army knife – translator, artist, vegan chef, blogger – casting a net wide enough to hopefully catch myself a job and save some money on rent. I managed it, but not quite how I’d imagined… I was signed up as night receptionist at Main Station’s nearby sister hostel Flip Flop Garden, working 10pm ‘til 4am, three times a week, keeping the place ticking over by checking in guests, giving out towels and sending booking confirmation emails, to name only the most exciting aspects of my new profession. Nothing beats free stuff, though, and even if it was just for the first couple of months (I’ve since arranged to only do one shift a week), I wanted to save some money to set aside for travels during the rest of the year. I’d decided against living in university accommodation because I didn’t want to live surrounded by other foreign students, speaking English all the time and inhabiting a self-imposed bubble. I have no regrets about this choice; even despite my slightly vampire-like schedule, I get to practice speaking and listening to Mandarin every day with the other staff here, and being the only staff member on shift at night means often having to use my Chinese under pressure.      `

With my accommodation sorted, next on the agenda was exploring Taipei, and getting set up at National Taiwan University, my academic home for the coming year. The first of these was a lot of fun; I spent the first few weeks wandering all around the city whenever I got chance, walking the streets and exploring different neighbourhoods on the public rental bikes. I’ll write more about Taipei itself in another post, as it deserves more than a quick mention to do it justice. However, suffice it to say that it is a thoroughly modern, well-ordered and bustling metropolis, occupying a natural depression in the landscape, meaning it is surrounded by lush, tree-covered hills. One of these in particular became a frequent spot for me to visit in the evenings; with an incredible night-time view over the city’s skyline, close to the one-time tallest building on the planet, Taipei 101, Elephant Mountain is popular with both tourists and locals. While the view isn’t quite as breathtaking as that from Victoria Peak above Hong Kong, it’s still a beautiful cityscape and helped me to build a mental map of Taipei.

As much as I’d have liked to come to Taiwan with nothing to do but take photos, eat dumplings and explore, I had also come to learn Chinese, and after several months off from my studies I was ready to jump in to whatever NTU had to offer. I first went to the campus a few days after I arrived, and was thoroughly impressed by my first sight of it. The day was hot and the air shimmered as I walked through the gates and down the main boulevard, lined with the tallest, straightest palm trees I’ve ever seen. Like seriously, forget those near-horizontal ones you see on holiday brochures, these things look like they’re on military parade. This broad avenue (imaginatively named Palm Boulevard) led straight to the main library, with red-brick faculty buildings off to either side. I was one of the few people walking around campus; since the site is so big (about twenty minutes from end to end), most students and staff get around on two wheels, and with over 30,000 students, that makes for a lot of bikes. My intention had been to not only to check out the campus but to get ahead of the game by completing my registration early. No dice. When I finally managed to find the right office in the right building, my presence caused chaos for a good fifteen minutes while several members of staff talked agitatedly into telephones and everyone appeared thoroughly confused. A consensus eventually emerged from the voices at the end of the phones: I was a week early, I must register on the same day as everyone else, and there was nothing to be done. So much for my attempt to sidestep the honoured Chinese tradition of bureaucracy which had first been exported to Taiwan back in the Qing dynasty.  

I won’t go further into the details of registration, class timetables and textbook purchases, as I would like to keep the attention of those readers who have somehow made it this far into this piece. Suffice it to say that all the right forms were filled, all my paperwork checked out, and I even managed to somehow navigate the incomprehensible online student system to download my timetable. Ten hours a week of Chinese class, with no English spoken in the classroom and around twenty new characters to memorise before each class… my wish to return to some serious Chinese study was well and truly granted, no two ways about it. Between the workload and my duties at the hostel, I haven’t been free to do as I liked; to simply take off into the unknown and get acquainted with the furthest corners of Taiwan, whether on two wheels or by thumbing lifts (a Czech friend managed to make the tour of the island by hitchhiking only a few weeks after arriving), and this has admittedly been a little frustrating, not to mention my confused body clock and occasional need to sleep for 6 hours in the library after an 8am class (thankfully this does not seem to bother anyone in the slightest.

However, it hasn’t all been late check-ins and vocab tests; I’ve made the most of being in Taipei, and you don’t have to go far to experience something incredible. One of the highlights so far has to be the Pingxi sky lantern festival, where I stood with a damp crowd in the rain and watched hundreds of giant sky lanterns defy the elements to fly majestically up and away into the sky, a genuinely uplifting sight which took me a little by surprise. A couple of weeks ago I also took the train out to a village in the mountains to the East to go swimming with some friends at a beautiful waterfall – I will be heading back for sure. After buying a decent road bike a couple of weeks in, riding through the parkland along the banks of the Keelung River has also been a pleasure, and I’m signed up to do some serious cycling with the staff team from the shop where I got my new wheels. Maybe the single biggest factor that has made my recent low-key lifestyle much more enjoyable is the amazing food that I’ve been eating, but here again I need to defer to a later post… there’s no way I can describe the wonders I’ve eaten without the attention they deserve.

Anyway, I hope this post has gone some way to illuminating what the past couple of months have been like for me. I have been busy, I have been deeply immersed in a foreign language daily, and I have eaten a lot of 7-11 noodles (actually surprisingly good). It hasn’t exactly been a highlight reel of Tripadvisor’s highest rated tourist hotspots, but my goal in coming here was and is first and foremost to come out of this year having genuinely experienced life in Taiwan, not to treat it as a year-long opportunity to take the same photos in the same places as every other exchange student. To that end, working in the hostel has been a real success, not necessarily a lot of fun but with the constant practice combined with my studies, I have already seen my fluency in Mandarin develop dramatically. Besides that, these two months of rent-free living have let me save a decent chunk of money, and equipped with tips and recommendations from friends as well as a whole lot more free time, come November, I will appreciate my newfound freedom.

I will be trying to keep on top of these posts a lot more in the coming months, so they won’t be quite so long – I’ll probably write them each with a focus on a particular topic rather than long-winded retrospectives like this one. I hope that anyone who’s still reading has enjoyed this post, and look out for the new Global Source website launching soon!

H 

[sinetheta]

FOREIGN: Profile and interview with multilingual Chinese/Chinese-American rapper Bohan Phoenix 

In the midst of Bohan Phoenix’s latest international tour, we decided to release the full profile and interview that Sine Theta editor-in-chief Jiaqi Kang conducted with the rapper last fall. In this story, he discusses his roots, his rediscovery of China, and, of course, his signature, everlasting philosophy of lovelove. The interview is available in print form in Sine Theta Issue 2: “COLOR 彩.” Bohan Phoenix’s latest single is “Product,” which can be found here.

“This is Bohan Phoenix, Chinese-American rapper extraordinaire, utterly brash near the three-minute mark of the music video for ‘Motivasian,’ a song taken from his latest EP entitled Foreign. It’s a track in which, like much of his discography, his boyish, insolent voice masterfully switches between English and Mandarin as he raps about his experiences. As someone whose identity is composed of two vastly different cultures, he is a foreigner everywhere he goes –– too Chinese for America, and too American for China.”

A pagoda sits atop a pier somewhere in Beijing. Its pillars –– red for prosperity and happiness –– and tiled, tilted roof are reflected in the quiet greyness of the lake below while traditional Chinese music plays softly in the background. Ripples begin to form in the water when two figures appear in the side of the frame, walking briskly along the pier. Behind them loom tall apartment blocks, grimy from pollution.

Cut to within the pagoda: two men sit on the floor, playing Chinese chess and smoking. The hurried figures –– a Chinese man with shiny eyes, accompanied by a loyal, skinny white friend –– arrive, slightly breathless. As their footsteps approach, one of the chess players, a black man with sharp cheekbones and somewhat cheap-looking silk pyjamas, flips a fake braid attached to his vaguely Qing-era imperial yellow cap. A twanging sound effect is heard as the frame freezes on his bulging eyes and gaping mouth. An intertitle introduces him: Black Sesame. “Bohan?” he squawks in faux surprise, looking up at the Chinese man. “I haven’t seen you in thirty-five years. What the fuck are you doing in Beijing?”

“Somebody’s got Chewy, man, they got Chewy!” comes the answer from Bohan. It had barely been twenty-four hours since he’d received the international call, which informed him that his cousin in the capital had been kidnapped and that the ransom was 3.5 billion yuan. He’d immediately flown from New York to Beijing to scour the streets for Black Sesame, hoping that his old friend would help him. “Where the fuck can I get that type of money ‘round here?”

“I don’t know,” says Black Sesame. He rubs his temple in exaggerated deep thought, then consults his chess opponent. “What do you think, Howie?”

Howie Lee raises his head, a strange gaze staring from behind thick glasses. “Neng shuochang ma?” he asks in Mandarin. “Can you rap?”

And suddenly, like a stage curtain falling away, everything solid melts into air. The soft light and peaceful lake setting is gone, abruptly replaced by an unnamed Beijing concert venue. An ominous, piercing chant appears out of nowhere, accompanied by frantic drums and the sudden figure of a man shrouded by darkness. It takes a second for us to realise that this is the same Chinese man as in the previous scene –– he has removed his thick hoodie and is now shirtless and defiant as he barks into a microphone behind a blurred lens, his entire body writhing to the beat. An excited audience sways around him, pale arms and hands glinting for the briefest of moments under nervous, flashing lights. The visuals, which storm by on fast-forward, begin to fuse together into a swirl of neon colors and pixels.

This is Bohan Phoenix, Chinese-American rapper extraordinaire, utterly brash near the three-minute mark of the music video for Motivasian, a song taken from his latest EP entitled “Foreign.” It’s a track in which, like much of his discography, his boyish, insolent voice masterfully switches between English and Mandarin as he raps about his experiences. As someone whose identity is composed of two vastly different cultures, he is a foreigner everywhere he goes –– too Chinese for America, and too American for China.

Bohan Phoenix is a rising figure in the hip-hop circuit. As one of a tiny handful of Asian-American rappers, his ethnicity makes him stand out from the crowd and his music is anything but ordinary. Unlike most other non-black hip-hop artists, he doesn’t merely mimic the conventions of black music culture, but works to bring traditional elements into fusion with rap. Phoenix’s smooth incorporation of Mandarin into his music distinguishes him from many Asian-American rappers who did not grow up speaking their mother tongues, and this double fluency allows him the potential to thrive in his native country. And yet, by embracing this notably unique style, Phoenix runs the risk of alienating a chunk of his Western audience and may not become a big star anytime soon –– though even those who don’t understand what he is saying admit that he has an obvious affinity for rap. Although he doesn’t even have his own Wikipedia page yet, this independent artist is part of the new online generation that doesn’t need to be signed to a label to be well-known. With over 210’000 plays on his Soundcloud and fans from all over the world, the twenty-four-year-old Phoenix is slowly and steadily conquering the globe.

I find Phoenix on the porch of a quiet suburban house to the west of Boston on a fresh summer morning. Wearing a plain white T-shirt, old sweatpants, and a gaudy leopard-print bandana reminiscent of nineties housewives, he invites my two friends and me into his mother’s dark, cluttered home. There’s that familiar greeting the Chinese use: “Have you eaten?” As we pass through the kitchen, he gestures towards the stove, where a pot full of congee sits alongside a tray of multicolored dumplings. His mother made him a special meal the evening before because he’d come from Brooklyn to visit her, he tells us as he sits back down in front of his laptop on the dining table. Mrs. Phoenix, it seems, is enthusiastic in the kitchen: I brush past a pile of glazed pillows made of marzipan, and sit down with my elbow next to a sponge cake in the shape of a ukulele.

Phoenix’s last name is Leng, which is the same as his mother’s, as he has only met his biological father twice. His parents weren’t married, so when his mother became pregnant, she had to return to Hubei province and marry her high school classmate in order to avoid the stigma surrounding single mothers. Phoenix is like many children of the jiuling hou, post-90s, generation that sprung up after Deng Xiaoping’s market reforms in the eighties. New economic opportunities pushed millions of young Chinese to newly prosperous cities, where they made money to send back home to family. Phoenix was raised by his grandparents in Yichang, a provincial city with a population of 4 million on the banks of the Yangtze, while his mother migrated to work in booming Shenzhen in the south. He struggled in school, and his mother realized that she would never be able to to keep up with the strict Chinese education system once he was in high school. She worked in real estate and was better off than most migrant workers, who, even today, bounce listlessly from factory to factory for years, unable to scrape together enough money to find a way out.

And so, at the turn of the millennium, she moved to the United States in search of better opportunities for her son. Phoenix followed in 2003 at the age of 11. When he first arrived, he spoke no English and was unable to communicate with his white stepfather. He recalls crying almost every night for home. His grandmother died not long after, an event that, Phoenix tells me, “took away a reason for me to go back to China.” After a couple of years in the States, he finally adjusted and settled down, becoming close with his stepfather, who treated him as his own flesh and blood. It didn’t hurt that he discovered hip-hop classics like Eminem and Tupac, whose music helped him to learn the language and gave him something in common with the local kids.  ----

Back in the dining room, Phoenix busies himself on his computer as he waits for us to finish eating the dumplings. He strokes his meagre goatee while whistling and occasionally checking Pokémon Go on his phone. He makes easy small talk and, once he finds out that one of my friends will be interning at a Hong Kong music festival this autumn, he immediately begins speaking over the phone to a contact at VICE China about appearing in the line-up. Phoenix is jittery and active, always on the lookout for the opportunity to hone his craft, his ears constantly tuned into the soundscape around him –– on one occasion, deep into our interview, he stops abruptly to listen to the beeping sound of a van as it backs out of its parking space, casually commenting, “That’s a nice sound,” before returning to his original line of thought, his expression equally intrigued and amused.

There’s also a boyish innocence about him; he flits from topic to topic, his thoughts bouncing around and colliding with one another. He chats about House of Cards and going camping, and we have a brief conversation about Chairman Mao’s infamous infected pimple as he drives us in his mom’s Honda to a nearby park. There, the Wednesday sunlight rests modestly on pale green grass, and Phoenix plomps down onto dusty bleachers to admire the stark blue sky. Even when sitting down, he constantly fidgets with his various accessories: he takes his sunglasses off, then puts them on again; he twirls his bracelets around on his wrist –– there’s an innate skittish energy that seems to seep out of his very pores and sink into his music. His lyrics are at times playful and light-hearted, reflecting the laid-back way he enjoys life: “Motivasian” includes the tongue-in-cheek lines I heard they don’t ever pay attention / Spit a few in Mandarin to check if they listenin’.

For much of his career, Phoenix was convinced that he needed to create what he describes as “poetic rap”: contemplative, introspective music with artistic symbolism. It’s with this mindset that he churned out the 2013 mixtape X Years. Its title referred to the ten years he has spent in each of his two home countries: China and the United States. Although it received critical acclaim, only traces of it can now be found as Phoenix has wiped it from the Internet. He tells me that he felt the music didn’t properly convey the concept of his split cultural identity. “I probably had, like, 3 lines of Chinese on that entire thing,” he says. “Afterwards, I was like, ‘This doesn’t make sense.’ So it took it down.” From the few videos that I can find through some minor YouTube sleuthing, it seems that making X Years was tantamount to coloring within the lines. A review on the Hip Hop Speakeasy praises Phoenix’s talents but notes that he “rhymes over classic instrumentals”. He had grown up listening to great hip-hop, but had not yet, at the time, found his own voice. His embarrassment at X Years is evident in the fact that it no longer exists.

Another song that Phoenix is considering removing from the Internet is So(ul) Faded, a 2014 singsong track set to a closed-eyed piano melody created during what Phoenix calls his “J. Cole phase,” after the North Carolina-raised rapper famous for his lyrical hip-hop. In the music video, which is entirely in black-and-white, a dismal-looking Phoenix gets a haircut as he raps pessimistically about the desolate state of society today. The song is dark and heavy, and features news footage from the Boston Marathon bombing that took place in April 2013. “So(ul) Faded makes me so fucking sad,” Phoenix says. “It’s depressing. I don’t like performing it. I don’t like listening to it.” But what Phoenix doesn’t mention are the hints of imitation. It’s been pointed out to me that the haircut Phoenix is getting is a fade, and that he’s sitting in a traditional black barbershop. In the world of hip-hop –– a music scene created and led by African-Americans –– Phoenix and other non-black rappers of color straddle the line between dealing with their own racial marginalization and seeking refuge by unduly engaging with black culture. As a result, this adoption of attributes, including black hairstyles and language (African American Vernacular English, abbreviated as AAVE), presents an obvious problem as black people themselves are condemned for the display of their own culture, but non-black people can freely perform it with little censure.

Asians in hip-hop often feel racially alienated. Jaeki Cho and Salima Koroma, the filmmakers behind Bad Rap, a 2016 documentary about the topic, wrote in an email that not only do Asian-American rappers face the regular racial stereotypes, but, on top of this, there “aren’t many Asian-American artists, executives, and media personalities to start,” according to Cho. “Also, until recently, East Asian culture discouraged participation in art and entertainment, while praising conformity.” And then there’s the toxic dichotomy –– while black men have historically been wrongfully perceived as aggressive and dangerous, cultural distortions emasculate Asian men. As Phoenix himself says, nodding: “Dongfang ruo fu.” The weak man from the East.

“Hip-hop has always been an art that encourages machismo,” Cho tells me. So perhaps to overcome misconceptions about being effeminate, Asians in hip-hop across the world will attempt to compensate by appropriating black culture. They pick the most appealing aspects and try them on like new clothes, with little regard for the brutal history of social and systemic discrimination specific to African-Americans that led to the creation and evolution of black culture in the first place. Keith Ape, the Korean rapper whose It G Ma went viral in 2015, wears braids in his hair and grills in his teeth; Brian Imanuel, an Indonesian comedian who raps under the name ‘Rich Chigga’, has used black slang as well as the N-word. Phoenix acknowledges that copying black culture can lead to quicker success. “Without all that,” he admits, “it takes way longer to blow up.”

There can sometimes be a thin line between cultural appreciation and cultural appropriation. Phoenix doesn’t consciously try to imitate black culture, appearing to disapprove of such an act. He believes that using the N-word is unnecessary. “It doesn’t make sense,” he explains. Non-black rappers, he says, will imitate trends that they think is ‘cool’ without thinking about the meaning behind it.  “People don’t think about why they’re doing things anymore. Keith Ape? He’s super original in his own way. But outside of that, it’s all carbon copy.” When Phoenix finds fame, it’s going to be through his own creative efforts. But he tugs at his wrist, where he sports a bracelet that looks like a metal fork bent into a circular shape, and shrugs. “I’m not gonna knock it, because that’s their hustle… I think time will tell who’s gonna have longevity,” he says. “I wanna have longevity,” he adds.

To Phoenix, the originality and sincerity in his art is paramount: “My mentor tells me that the day you decide to be yourself, your life becomes easier and easier.” His mentor is his gospel choir teacher, Sheldon Reid, also associated with the Kuumba Singers of Harvard College, and who was the first to truly encourage his enthusiasm for rap, during the last two years of high school. He had Phoenix write verses that he would perform solo, with the choir backing him up, in front of the entire school. That gave Phoenix the confidence to perform, and drew him towards music as a profession. Ever since his gospel days, he has been constantly renewing himself for his art –– and it’s no surprise that the moniker he picked for himself is so representative of his mindset: a phoenix dies only to rise from the ashes again, stronger. Though Phoenix may have started out with more traditional hip-hop, his evolution means that he has now grown out of it and has begun to forge his own path. After a slew of small projects, Phoenix seemed to have stumbled upon something big when he founded loveloveN¥C.

To love the concept of love –– lovelove, or 爱爱 in Chinese –– is Bohan Phoenix’s thing. Call it a motto, a message, a perspective, a vision, or whatever you’d like –– it’s the phrase under which he and his friends, who include producer Jachary (who also played Black Sesame in the Motivasian music video) and tattoo artist Ralph a.k.a. M4, operate. It’s the name of their studio in Brooklyn, and it’s inked onto T-shirts, baseball caps, and Phoenix’s left arm. It’s an encouragement to embrace positivity and face the world as a good person. “Being nice is the coolest thing,” Phoenix informs me. “Seriously. I mean, love is the coolest thing –– ever.” It’s the message that he wants to resonate across the world, and he’s still figuring out how to do it through his music.

In early 2015, Phoenix put out loveloveEP, made up of four songs produced by Jachary, his roommate and closest collaborator. Infused with soft percussion and jazz-funk inspirations, the EP began to showcase what would become Phoenix’s distinctive style, which mixes honest autobiographical lyrics with cheerfulness and humor. Obama probably blowin’ trees and just keeps it lowkey, he raps in “So Responsible,” a track about smoking marijuana. The songs are catchy and fun to listen to, and their creation allowed Phoenix to experiment with new production processes such as working with live instruments. But Phoenix isn’t satisfied with it. The EP, which was completed in a week and a half, “could’ve been better,” he admits. It was much too short, and didn’t properly convey the idea of lovelove. Its mismatched title would cause listeners to misunderstand his message.

Phoenix finally found his voice when he began collaborating with Beijing-based producer Howie Lee (who starred as the antagonist in the “Motivasian” video) –– for one, it now contains more Mandarin lyrics. Songs were once lightly peppered with Chinese elements; now, the blend of cultures is an even mix. Phoenix also takes himself far less seriously as he’d previously done on the rambunctious four songs from his Foreign EP, which was released in March of this year.

Lee’s beats incorporate unconventional sounds and Chinese instruments such as the guzheng, and make each of the songs absolutely entrancing: “Loveloveworldwide” is haunted by an ominous humming of unknown origin; “Motivasian” is backed by urgent staccato clicking sounds that make listeners’ heartbeats quicken with anticipation; They Don’t Know is reminiscent of a crazed child’s glockenspiel; and a hypnotising drum persists in the eponymous track Foreign. Such groundwork by a creative producer sends Phoenix’s voice flying through the air to match it with lurching rhythms and impressive versatility. His voice sounds unleashed as it switches from loud and boisterous to robustly fluid. “Foreign was different,” Phoenix explains, “because Howie’s beats were so different. I tried being serious on Foreign and I couldn’t –– it didn’t work. I just decided to have fun.”

On these tracks, Phoenix juggles English and Mandarin impressively. He alternates between verses and even, at times, in the middle of a sentence –– deftly switching to another language to make a line rhyme with the previous one. Interestingly, much of his Mandarin lyrics are reminiscent of his childhood days and refer to his family, with whom he communicated in that language. Some lines evoke scoldings from his mother, like Bu yao chouyan, yiding yao nianshu (“Stop smoking, you must study harder”), while others are his own words: Mama wo huilai le (“Mom, I’m home”). In English, where Phoenix has a wider, more mature vocabulary, he nonetheless makes references to his ancestral culture with allusions to “tai chi” and “Beijing”.

It is startling how malleable Mandarin becomes on Phoenix’s tongue. He reshapes it to fit the heaving flow of his verses. Phoenix references Tang dynasty poet Li Bai in one of his songs, but I’m sure Li would be astounded to hear the way this young tributary has squeezed the neat, tidy, paced syllables of Chinese into a raft and sent them careening violently down a bounding cascade. Inspired by prodigious Taiwanese artist Jay Chou, who helped pioneer the incorporation of rap into mainstream Mandopop, Phoenix also abandons the four tones of Mandarin that enable listeners to distinguish meaning from sound, replacing them with flattened versions. At first, it just sounds like Phoenix hasn’t mastered the language, but this is obviously not the case –– he does it on purpose. Mandarin sounds too choppy otherwise, Phoenix says. “But I have some friends in Chengdu and they speak in the Sichuan dialect and it’s like, that dialect is perfect for rapping.”

He’s referring to the Higher Brothers, a group of rappers who are part of the Chengdu Rap House and with whom he collaborated while on tour in China in the spring of 2016. The Motherland Tour, backed by VICE China, also featured Howie Lee and Zhang Yang from Lee’s do hits group and two other diasporic Chinese musicians: Mike Gao and Nehzuil, who grew up in Los Angeles and New Zealand respectively. This was the third time returning to China in the past year for Phoenix, and with each visit his appreciation for his birth country grew. In March 2015, he’d met his biological father for the second time ever and discovered to his surprise the uncanny similarities in dress, body language, and personality between the two. Later, in October 2015, he brought his American friends along to visit Beijing for the first time and to shoot the “Motivasian” video. This third time, Phoenix was not only accompanied by his loveloveN¥C friends while performing all across the country, but also met a slew of acquaintances during his travels. He was able to see China through the eyes of a tourist. Whereas before, when he returned to China, he would simply visit his family in Chengdu, he now goes sightseeing and partying with an entourage of equally energetic minds and is thus able to discover a totally different –– and perhaps far more entertaining –– side of China.

----

Rediscovering China also allowed Phoenix to rediscover himself. He was able to unearth that unique aspect of his identity through these extended visits, and it has been a factor in his transition from darker, more traditional hip-hop to his current playful style. “I don’t wanna shoot any videos in America now,” he confesses. “It was so much fun [in China]. Everything was dope there.” He compares China to New York, where he now lives, that has for more than a century been the hub of American art and culture. “It’s easier not to be creative when you’re shooting in China,” he says, because of how refreshing it is simply to see a different backdrop in a music video. “New York is so overshot. Everything [there] is overshot.” He now realizes that he can bring China into his creative career and allow his aspect of him to let him stand out as an artist. He also sees the market potential in China –– the hip-hop scene in the country is still in its early stages, and he wants to help shape it. Due to a lack of major music platforms –– Soundcloud, the West’s most popular music-sharing site, is blocked, and there is no real equivalent to alternative media outlets such as Pitchfork –– independent music has a harder time gaining widespread attention. But Phoenix is confident that the scene will develop, and that audiences in China will receive his message of lovelove.

Similar to Oscar Wilde, who famously applied the theories of aestheticism to his daily life, turning himself into an eccentric celebrity of the literary world, Phoenix embodies what he preaches. He’s already living the lovelove lifestyle by stubbornly treating everybody with respect, which is one of the reasons why he refuses to openly criticise other artists. From Phoenix’s point of view, all conflicts, such as the controversy over NYPD officer Peter Liang’s conviction, boil down to misconception; a lack of love. Phoenix tells me about his aunt in Chengdu, China, with whom he and his friends stayed during their tour. Immigration rates are extremely low in the country, and most Chinese have never met a black person in their life. In a documentary about the tour released by Noisey, a VICE channel, it’s revealed that Phoenix’s aunt once texted him saying, “Your mom tells me you’re worshipping black people.” She explains in the film that, to her, black people are at the bottom of society and that their misery fuels their music. After three days spent with Ralph and Jachary, though, Phoenix recalls her exclaiming, “Wow! Black people are so nice!” But Phoenix trails off just as he begins to get heated about race –– it’s obvious that he doesn’t like to think too much about it. “I don’t know,” he mumbles. “It’s too complicated.”  

Later, when I push him to speak more about the racism I feel sure he’s experienced, he becomes irritable. He says he’s never faced hostility in the hip-hop scene as an Asian. “There’s one race: the human race,” he insists. Lovelove is supposed to overcome all superficial barriers –– it’s what truly makes sense to him right now. Perhaps Phoenix has finally found what he has been looking for all along within this ideology, and perhaps in a few years he will reinvent himself again. When I email Jachary and ask him if he thinks loveloveN¥C will last, the reply is simply and staunchly: “lovelove forever.”

----

There’s a line from “Loveloveworldwide,” written by Phoenix after his second big trip to China:

我想搬回中国可我没勇气 Wo xiang banhui Zhongguo ke wo mei yongqi I want to move back to China but I don’t have the courage

The phrase hits me deep in the gut. It articulates a feeling that resides within us both, and within many members of the diaspora –– the calling of one’s ancestral roots and all the uncertainty it carries. With China’s rapid economic growth, culture is evolving just as fast, and each visit means that there is something new and fresh happening. “It’s amazing,” Phoenix says. There are so many things that haven’t been tried yet, beckoning the formation of a new avant-garde generation. And yet, at the same time, “it takes so much guts and so much spontaneity to just drop everything. Technically,” Phoenix confesses, “there’s nothing holding me back. But it’s all these things that I conjure up.”

Phoenix is increasingly splitting his time between the two countries and is working on building bridges between two cultures that often seem like they are in total opposition, whether politically or socially. Yet amidst the back and forth, Phoenix still makes time to unwind every now and then. As the official part of our interview wraps up, I snap some photos and Phoenix rolls a joint. We watch the high noon sunlight as it sits poised on the grass in the park –– the same park where, years ago, Phoenix and his schoolmates used to smoke together. He recommends a list of good Asian restaurants in Boston. I mention being underage for tattoos, and he invites me down to New York so that Ralph can ink me, no questions asked. I politely decline. It’s his birthday this weekend, and he’ll be releasing a short song called “Epilogue” to celebrate. With its synthetic instrumentals and the visceral, desperate quality to the backup vocals, it’s simultaneously emotional and coolly rational. It’s a fitting conclusion to the Foreign era of Phoenix’s work, which also includes “3 Days in Chengdu,” a 12-minute song produced by Jachary that begins with an unpretentious eulogy to his passed-away grandmother. After this, it’s a second EP with Howie Lee, and maybe some singles here and there. Another year lies ahead, six months of which will be spent in China. The future is brilliantly uncertain.

A small breeze rustles the trees. Phoenix shows me the cover that he’d originally intended to use for the Foreign EP: it’s a cartoon of him as topless baby Mao, smoking a cigar as he smiles at something in the distance, teeth glinting. VICE China, the platform on which he’d officially premiered the tracks, wouldn’t let him use it. Now, the picture shows him wearing a fuzzy panda hat and a gold chain; crisis averted. Phoenix puts away his phone. He asks me to take a Polaroid photo of him by the Honda, lighting a cigarette. He rests his water bottle on the roof of the car, where it perches momentarily, taciturn, before it’s retrieved again. He adjusts his bandana. “I’m going to go watch Finding Dory,” he says, getting into his car and tossing his cigarette butt without stepping on it. “I’m excited.”  •

Photography and Illustrations by Jiaqi Kang

sinθ is an international print-based creative arts magazine made by and for the sino diaspora. Values include creative expression, connection, and empowerment. Find out more here.

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[10oclockdot]

True/False 2017 Festival Report, part 2:

in which I give capsule reviews of films that I viewed on March 4 and 5, the last two days of this year's True/False, in order of best to worst. Part 1 here.

The War Show (Andreas Dalsgaard, Obaidah Zytoon, 2016) Imagine Five Broken Cameras, but in Syria. Mix in a deeply wise coming-of-age story that tragically spirals into a tale of existential perdition with poetic voice-over to rival The House is Black and ending with the most clear-throated call for piece I've heard in ages. That's The War Show, and that description doesn't do justice to this rich, multi-modal, and severely underappreciated film. It all begins with Obaidah Zytoon, a young woman who liked shooting home movies with her friends (and who became the film's director), playing forbidden music as a DJ on a Syrian radio station. "Going on air was like dancing in a mine field," she recalls. As the anti-Assad protests begin, she films the people marching with her. "I'm doing it to breathe," says a kid named Nawarah. A bevy of catchy chants fill the air with the bracing spirit of revolution. And so we meet her exuberant friends -- Houssam, her lover, Lulu, a friend who removes her hijab for the first time, Hisham, Lulu's boyfriend and a poet, and more. But even as their spirits remain high and the crowds swell, "demonstrations turned into funerals," she tells us. Journalists are targeted, the country's "senses polluted" by the ensuing flow of disinformation. "No one raised in Syria can define freedom," says one of her comrades. Dozens of locals show off scars left by torture at the hands of the Assad regime. The friends take one final trip, and then, out of nowhere, they start to be arrested, kidnapped, houses destroyed, one is even killed, the halcyon opening smashed. As the film goes on and the madness of the conflict spirals ever farther away from believability, I found myself lost -- I didn't know where we were, when we were, or what to believe. Intelligently, the film doesn't attempt an encyclopedic or journalistic account of the conflict -- it would be impossible as yet anyway -- so what we're left with are fragments that we can barely situate or hold onto. Scenes of destruction, of protests and counter-protests between those wanting democracy and those wanting a caliphate, children playing with unsafed rifles, and, of course, an inside look into how a revolution gets co-opted by warlords and arms dealers, each staging some unreality for YouTube to further their financial cause. "There was a place for everyone in the war show," Obaidah explains, "except for the people." Many moments of brilliance follow after this, but it culminates in the very final scene of the film, just as a felt most poetically and tragically lost (which, of course, is the point). After years of prison, a disappeared friend returns unexpectedly, reconciling the lives of the few friends who remain. "Syria as we know it is gone," she intones, but kneels over a clay pot, gathering soil and planting seeds, and she says of the Syrian people, "We will plant the seed of peace around the planet." And there it is: the powerful, beautiful, perfect message of The War Show -- that the Syrian diaspora is, contrary to what every xenophobic isolationist asshole has ever said, the greatest peace movement of the 21st Century. Because the Syrian people, each scarred by the madness of their country's war, will carry the scars of that war their entire lives, scars that will always speak to the necessity of peace, wherever they live and as long as they live. It's an essential message and an essential film.

Brimstone and Glory (Viktor Jakovleski, 2017) I guess that in the back of my mind, I knew that documentary could be pure spectacle -- what, after all, are IMAX documentaries? -- but I never imagined I'd spend fully half of a feature length documentary leaning forward, mouth agape, absolutely in awe of the visceral madness taking place in front of me. Brimstone and Glory is a documentary about fireworks -- specifically the absolutely bonkers annual fireworks festival in Tultepec, Mexico, where half the buildings in town are labeled "Peligro" (they build the fireworks there, year-round), where they erect hundred-foot-high towers of fireworks (castles of fire, they call them) and where they build sculptures of bulls the size of buses and run them through downtown, shooting fireworks off of them into crowds of thrill-seeking and oft-injured spectators. Director Viktor Jakovleski spent went three years in a row, shooting with drone cameras, an arsenal of Go-Pro's, and cinematographers covered head-to-toe in protective gear diving headlong into the middle of the mayhem. Add to that eruptive sound design, sharp editing, and a driving original score co-written by Behn Zeitlin (the guy who directed and wrote the music for Beasts of the Southern Wild), and you've got one of the best adrenaline rushes you can get sitting still in a seat. Best moment: as they're setting up the castles of fire, lightning strikes one of them, setting it alight. Cut to the perspective of a Go-Pro mounted on a man's head whose job it is to rapidly scale the wooden tower without a safety harness and put things in order. Damn.

Manifesto (Julian Rosefeldt, 2017) Extreme close-up, shallow-focus, ultra-slow-motion: a fuse burns across the screen, sending sparks in all directions while Cate Blanchett quotes some delicious gobbledegook from Tristan Tzara's Dada Manifesto, culminating with, "I am neither for nor against and I do not explain because I hate common sense." Thus began a film that refused common sense and did not explain itself. Cut to old women shooting off fireworks over some abandoned Eastern bloc factory or weather station. As a drone camera flies over the tumbledown complex, we find Cate Blanchett, dressed as a shabby character that recalls Denis Lavant's Monsieur Merde, dragging a suitcase through the ruins and quoting Marx. In a flash, the opening credits are a barrage: huge white block letters on a black background, the names of artists and thinkers who wrote manifestos, each on screen for about a third of a second, like a stripped-down Enter the Void. The ensuing 90-minute film follows Blanchett as she dons a dozen different disguises in a dozen different environments -- from a puppet shop to a garbage processing facility to an anechoic chamber, all brilliantly photographed -- and speaks excerpts from a few dozen manifestos from across the last century and a half. To be clear, this is not a documentary. In fact, it began as a 13-channel video installation that editor Bobby Good transformed into a feature. Though most of the audience was probably befuddled and confused about the origin of these words (the film does not caption the quotations), they were generally amused by the absurdity of deterritorializing the tone of the manifesto into more quotidian environments (a highlight: Blanchett as a news anchor conversing with Blanchett as a field reporter in a rainstorm). I enjoyed the handsome cinematography and the Nils Frahm score, but I had the most fun whenever I recognized the origin of the words: Maciunas, Lewitt, Jarmusch, Brakhage, and a few others. As for the words I didn't recognize ("Equal rights for all materials," "One dies as a hero or an idiot, which is the same thing," "Elephants are very big and cars go very fast, but so what?"), I looked a bunch of them up and learned something. A nice provocation of a film. Perfect for screening the last week of a class on avant-garde art history.

Distant Constellation (Shevaun Mizrahi, 2017) A lovely, slow-moving film made of lovely slow-moving and somewhat haunting images. The whole is not greater than the sum of its parts, making it a film that's not especially worth seeking out, but a few of the images will probably stick with me. In Istanbul, languid shots of a building under construction intercut with languider scenes of life in a retirement home. It all seems to take place neither in the past, nor the present, nor the future, but a place disconnected from time, where the overworked young build a future that won't happen while the un-visited old disappear from a past equally unreachable. Two old men ride up and down on an elevator in order to have a private conversation with each other. A very old woman who insists on being known by a pseudonym (Selma) falls asleep in the middle of an interview. One old codger, not without some charm, recounts the sexual exploits of his youth before proposing marriage to the director, saying she'll surely outlive him, which would make the marriage to her advantage. A stopped clock labeled USSR sits next to a working Western one. An old woman complains that now she walks too slowly to make it all the way across the street while the walk sign is on. The rhythms of the modern world aren't kind to everyone, but as tales of the Armenian genocide reveal, perhaps the world was never all that kind. So this constellation drifts on, and fades away.

Still Tomorrow (Fan Jian, 2016) A woman with cerebral palsy living in a remote Chinese village writes a poem that gets shared a million times on Chinese Facebook and scores her a book deal. That sounds like a good hook for a documentary, but the film lacks a clear shape or direction. For the most part, Yu Xiuhua spends the film not charismatically soaking up her newfound fame (though there's a bit of that, and it's really fun), but rather fighting with and divorcing a husband she's never loved. That focus feels strange until you notice that the poetry isn't really the object of investigation here, but rather the abuse which lower-class disabled people suffer in exchange for a caregiver. Sadly, this theme receives scant development. Still, there's plenty of her lovely poetry on display. "Silent wheat in the moonlight / the frictions between them / are the trembling of all the things of the earth." Here the image shows a wheatfield near her home. It's a choice not entirely without grace, but when a documentary's images cannot stand alongside its subject's words, the project falters.

Lindy Lou, Juror #2 (Florent Vassault, 2017) I desperately wanted to like this film. Lindy Lou served on a jury two decades ago that sent a murderer to death row. There's no doubt the man was guilty, but in the intervening years Lindy Lou has come to deeply regret this decision. So she and the documentarian travel around Mississippi tracking down her fellow jurors and finding out whether any of them changed their minds. It's a clear spine with clear motivation and all, but the structure ends up deeply limiting the film, since many of the people she goes to talk to aren't all that interesting people to talk to. The film was at its best when one of the jurors who'd also felt pangs of guilt years later suggests that their ought to be a state-funded counseling service for jurors who have to do such work. In the Q&A after the film, Lindy Lou, who was there in person, suggested that the trauma experienced by jurors on such cases was a bit like the trauma experienced by soldiers -- and she ought to know, she's a veteran herself. But she made the mistake of mentioning the film American Sniper to the fairly liberal crowd at T/F, which drew a couple of muted snarls from people seated near me. And in that moment I realized that even if Lindy Lou's on the right side of the death penalty debate, the Confederate flag flying on her property and her husband's gun enthusiasm (both depicted in the film) put her in such a different world from many of the folks in the audience that effective bipartisan collaboration might be impossible. I rarely learn more from the Q&A than from the film, but that was the case here.

[preciousmetals0]

Bezos’ Saudi Blunder; NFLX Buffers; NIO Chunders

Bezos’ Saudi Blunder; NFLX Buffers; NIO Chunders:

Phishing With Princes

“This is soooo funny! Like and share to see what happens!”

Few things in the English language get my blood boiling more than phrases like these. They come in emails, on Facebook posts, in direct messages and through texts. What’s even more infuriating is that people I know send this stuff to me — even though they know better!

No, Uncle Jerry, the Nigerian prince isn’t going to send you any money. And neither is Bill Gates. Stop sharing this crap!

If you want to know the dangers of sharing these emails/texts/messages, just ask Amazon.com Inc. (Nasdaq: AMZN) CEO and founder Jeff Bezos.

Back in 2018, Bezos’ iPhone was hacked after he viewed a video sent to him via WhatsApp. The sender wasn’t a Nigerian prince … but someone connected to the Saudi prince. The hackers lifted personal images that complicated Bezos’ divorce that year. They also reportedly skimmed gigabytes of data in the process, but exactly what they got hasn’t been revealed.

The situation has since escalated well beyond a romantic spat, however. The United Nations (U.N.) is now involved. That’s serious.

“The information we have received suggests the possible involvement of the Crown Prince in surveillance of Mr. Bezos, in an effort to influence, if not silence, The Washington Post’s reporting on Saudi Arabia,” U.N. representatives said in a statement this morning. The U.N. is calling for an immediate investigation. (FYI, Bezos also owns The Washington Post.)

The Saudis have rejected the claims as “absurd.”

Still, FTI Consulting, the business advisory firm that carried out the hacking investigation, says it has “medium to high confidence” that Bezos’ phone was hacked by malware from an account used by the Saudi crown prince.

The Takeaway:

There are two takeaways here:

Don’t open any message, attachment or link you don’t recognize!

Don’t open any message, attachment or link you don’t recognize!

Yes, No. 1 and No. 2 are the same. Yes, it’s that important. It doesn’t matter whom the message, attachment or link comes from. This includes relatives and friends … especially relatives and friends!

No one will send you money, no matter how many forwards or “likes” you get. No amount of laughter is worth opening that “funny” image/video — it isn’t that funny anyway.

And if you think: “It won’t happen to me! I’ve got great security on my devices!” — just remember Jeff Bezos, founder of Amazon and the richest guy in the world.

His security was far beyond anything that you or I could afford. What’s more, he was using arguably two of the more secure platforms on mobile: an iPhone and WhatsApp — both so encrypted that even the U.S. government can’t crack them.

So, no, Uncle Jerry, that copy of Norton/McAfee won’t keep you safe. Once you open a message, click an attachment or visit a link, you’ve given your permission to whatever is on the other side. Not even the best cybersecurity in the world can help you at that point.

In these situations, just remember Great Stuff’s words to live by: When in doubt, delete it out — at least until the world runs completely on blockchain.

Blockchain? What’s that?

Right, blockchain! You know, the ultra secure digital ledger that records transactions like no one’s business? This tech is perfect for our less-than-secure world … especially for when your “long-lost cousin” is “totally stranded” in an “Indonesian airport.”

Blockchain tech could disrupt everything about how we use money, from banking to retail to real estate.

But Mr. Great Stuff, can you tell me more about what blockchain is? I bet there’s a way to invest in it, too…

I could tell you more, but it’s best that you hear it from famed tech expert Paul Mampilly. Thousands of Great Stuff readers love Paul Mampilly’s insights into the latest tech trends … and blockchain is no different.

Click here to hear why blockchain is so disruptive — and the gigantic profit potential it’s unleashing.

Good: Earnings Don’t Mean Squat

I tried to warn you on Friday when Great Stuff previewed earnings for Netflix Inc. (Nasdaq: NFLX). Did you listen? I hope so.

By all conceivable measures, Netflix’s quarterly report was out of this world. Earnings skyrocketed 333% to $1.30 per share from $0.30 a year ago. Revenue soared to $5.5 billion. Wall Street expected earnings of $0.50 per share and revenue of $5.4 billion. Heck, even the Whisper Number projected a mere $0.58 per share in earnings.

And what did NFLX get for its troubles? A loss of more than 2% on the day.

But why? Netflix said it now has more than 60 million subscribers worldwide. It reported 8.3 million new international subscribers, beating expectations.

The reason for the 2% drop? Domestic growth concerns. Netflix only added 420,000 subscribers domestically, versus expectations for 618,000 adds. What’s more, 2020 guidance only called for 7 million new subscribers, compared to 9.2 million new subs in 2019.

Subscriber growth is slowing, and investors fear that Netflix has hit peak saturation. With the company spending billions on content this year, that could mean lower returns and higher negative cash flow.

That said, Netflix proved that it could execute even amid a fresh assault from The Walt Disney Co.’s (NYSE: DIS) Disney+. Furthermore, I think both investors and analysts are discounting international subscribers way too much. It is a global market after all, and Netflix is quickly doing to the rest of the world what it did stateside last decade.

In short, keep your eyes on Netflix, as this dip might be a buying opportunity.

Better: Old Dog, New Tricks

Surprise! International Business Machines Corp. (NYSE: IBM) is relevant again.

Big Blue is among the last of the old-school tech giants to move to the cloud, and it’s paying off big. The company reported earnings of $4.71 per share, $0.02 better than the consensus.

Revenue was also ahead of expectations at $21.78 billion.

The kicker for IBM? A 21.8% jump in cloud revenue to $6.8 billion. It’s amazing what charging to support a free operating system can do for your bottom line — thanks Red Hat Linux!

Things are going so well, IBM also boosted its 2020 outlook above analyst expectations.

This is the most excitement IBM investors have seen in years. Seriously. The stock has basically gone nowhere in the past five years.

As boring as it sounds, maybe paying $34 billion to buy out software company Red Hat really was the best thing to happen to IBM. I’m still having trouble getting excited about this dinosaur, though … if you couldn’t tell.

Best: Look out Below!

So, when I started out writing on Nio Inc. (NYSE: NIO) this morning, the shares were up about 5%. I was impressed … truly. Nio was on its way to an unprecedented 10-day rally, gaining more than 60% in the process.

But, in true Nio fashion, those gains were not to last. The stock rolled over sharply this afternoon, as investors decided that $5 per share was too much to pay for the Chinese electric vehicle (EV) maker.

The $5 area could be quite the hurdle for Nio. The company is riding high off December’s stellar earnings call, reports of a $1 billion cash infusion from GAC Group and Tesla Inc.’s (Nasdaq: TSLA) EV success in China.

In fact, NIO shares have more than tripled in the past three months. With that level of speculation, however, comes an equal level of volatility. There’s no bad news making the rounds on Nio today, so this sudden midday drop is likely due to profit-taking.

I mean, if you banked a 200%-plus gain on a speculative Chinese EV stock, wouldn’t you take profits?

The company has investment potential (if you have the risk tolerance). But, if you’re looking to jump in, you should probably wait until the stock comes back to earth a bit more.

Let’s revisit our two rules, shall we?

Don’t open any message, attachment or link you don’t recognize!

Don’t open any message, attachment or link you don’t recognize!

Thank you.

Great Stuff: Feed the Beast

You better believe it’s that time again.

You have less than 12 hours to drop me a line at GreatStuffToday@banyanhill.com to make this week’s edition of Reader Feedback.

We take all kinds here: comments, questions, witty remarks and secret recipes. As always, no cursing, please. We can’t publish that s#&%.

I’ll get the festivities started for you:

Have you kept up with the Senate impeachment trials?

Would you spot a cyber hack or phishing scam — before it’s too late?

Have you ever made ridiculous profits off speculative Chinese stocks?

Are you keeping your New Year’s resolutions? (And is your local gym back to being empty?)

In the meantime, don’t forget to check out Great Stuff on social media. If you can’t get enough meme-y goodness, follow me on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram!

Until next time, good trading!

Regards,

Joseph Hargett

Great Stuff Managing Editor, Banyan Hill Publishing

[goldira01]

Phishing With Princes

“This is soooo funny! Like and share to see what happens!”

Few things in the English language get my blood boiling more than phrases like these. They come in emails, on Facebook posts, in direct messages and through texts. What’s even more infuriating is that people I know send this stuff to me — even though they know better!

No, Uncle Jerry, the Nigerian prince isn’t going to send you any money. And neither is Bill Gates. Stop sharing this crap!

If you want to know the dangers of sharing these emails/texts/messages, just ask Amazon.com Inc. (Nasdaq: AMZN) CEO and founder Jeff Bezos.

Back in 2018, Bezos’ iPhone was hacked after he viewed a video sent to him via WhatsApp. The sender wasn’t a Nigerian prince … but someone connected to the Saudi prince. The hackers lifted personal images that complicated Bezos’ divorce that year. They also reportedly skimmed gigabytes of data in the process, but exactly what they got hasn’t been revealed.

The situation has since escalated well beyond a romantic spat, however. The United Nations (U.N.) is now involved. That’s serious.

“The information we have received suggests the possible involvement of the Crown Prince in surveillance of Mr. Bezos, in an effort to influence, if not silence, The Washington Post’s reporting on Saudi Arabia,” U.N. representatives said in a statement this morning. The U.N. is calling for an immediate investigation. (FYI, Bezos also owns The Washington Post.)

The Saudis have rejected the claims as “absurd.”

Still, FTI Consulting, the business advisory firm that carried out the hacking investigation, says it has “medium to high confidence” that Bezos’ phone was hacked by malware from an account used by the Saudi crown prince.

The Takeaway:

There are two takeaways here:

Don’t open any message, attachment or link you don’t recognize!

Don’t open any message, attachment or link you don’t recognize!

Yes, No. 1 and No. 2 are the same. Yes, it’s that important. It doesn’t matter whom the message, attachment or link comes from. This includes relatives and friends … especially relatives and friends!

No one will send you money, no matter how many forwards or “likes” you get. No amount of laughter is worth opening that “funny” image/video — it isn’t that funny anyway.

And if you think: “It won’t happen to me! I’ve got great security on my devices!” — just remember Jeff Bezos, founder of Amazon and the richest guy in the world.

His security was far beyond anything that you or I could afford. What’s more, he was using arguably two of the more secure platforms on mobile: an iPhone and WhatsApp — both so encrypted that even the U.S. government can’t crack them.

So, no, Uncle Jerry, that copy of Norton/McAfee won’t keep you safe. Once you open a message, click an attachment or visit a link, you’ve given your permission to whatever is on the other side. Not even the best cybersecurity in the world can help you at that point.

In these situations, just remember Great Stuff’s words to live by: When in doubt, delete it out — at least until the world runs completely on blockchain.

Blockchain? What’s that?

Right, blockchain! You know, the ultra secure digital ledger that records transactions like no one’s business? This tech is perfect for our less-than-secure world … especially for when your “long-lost cousin” is “totally stranded” in an “Indonesian airport.”

Blockchain tech could disrupt everything about how we use money, from banking to retail to real estate.

But Mr. Great Stuff, can you tell me more about what blockchain is? I bet there’s a way to invest in it, too…

I could tell you more, but it’s best that you hear it from famed tech expert Paul Mampilly. Thousands of Great Stuff readers love Paul Mampilly’s insights into the latest tech trends … and blockchain is no different.

Click here to hear why blockchain is so disruptive — and the gigantic profit potential it’s unleashing.

Good: Earnings Don’t Mean Squat

I tried to warn you on Friday when Great Stuff previewed earnings for Netflix Inc. (Nasdaq: NFLX). Did you listen? I hope so.

By all conceivable measures, Netflix’s quarterly report was out of this world. Earnings skyrocketed 333% to $1.30 per share from $0.30 a year ago. Revenue soared to $5.5 billion. Wall Street expected earnings of $0.50 per share and revenue of $5.4 billion. Heck, even the Whisper Number projected a mere $0.58 per share in earnings.

And what did NFLX get for its troubles? A loss of more than 2% on the day.

But why? Netflix said it now has more than 60 million subscribers worldwide. It reported 8.3 million new international subscribers, beating expectations.

The reason for the 2% drop? Domestic growth concerns. Netflix only added 420,000 subscribers domestically, versus expectations for 618,000 adds. What’s more, 2020 guidance only called for 7 million new subscribers, compared to 9.2 million new subs in 2019.

Subscriber growth is slowing, and investors fear that Netflix has hit peak saturation. With the company spending billions on content this year, that could mean lower returns and higher negative cash flow.

That said, Netflix proved that it could execute even amid a fresh assault from The Walt Disney Co.’s (NYSE: DIS) Disney+. Furthermore, I think both investors and analysts are discounting international subscribers way too much. It is a global market after all, and Netflix is quickly doing to the rest of the world what it did stateside last decade.

In short, keep your eyes on Netflix, as this dip might be a buying opportunity.

Better: Old Dog, New Tricks

Surprise! International Business Machines Corp. (NYSE: IBM) is relevant again.

Big Blue is among the last of the old-school tech giants to move to the cloud, and it’s paying off big. The company reported earnings of $4.71 per share, $0.02 better than the consensus.

Revenue was also ahead of expectations at $21.78 billion.

The kicker for IBM? A 21.8% jump in cloud revenue to $6.8 billion. It’s amazing what charging to support a free operating system can do for your bottom line — thanks Red Hat Linux!

Things are going so well, IBM also boosted its 2020 outlook above analyst expectations.

This is the most excitement IBM investors have seen in years. Seriously. The stock has basically gone nowhere in the past five years.

As boring as it sounds, maybe paying $34 billion to buy out software company Red Hat really was the best thing to happen to IBM. I’m still having trouble getting excited about this dinosaur, though … if you couldn’t tell.

Best: Look out Below!

So, when I started out writing on Nio Inc. (NYSE: NIO) this morning, the shares were up about 5%. I was impressed … truly. Nio was on its way to an unprecedented 10-day rally, gaining more than 60% in the process.

But, in true Nio fashion, those gains were not to last. The stock rolled over sharply this afternoon, as investors decided that $5 per share was too much to pay for the Chinese electric vehicle (EV) maker.

The $5 area could be quite the hurdle for Nio. The company is riding high off December’s stellar earnings call, reports of a $1 billion cash infusion from GAC Group and Tesla Inc.’s (Nasdaq: TSLA) EV success in China.

In fact, NIO shares have more than tripled in the past three months. With that level of speculation, however, comes an equal level of volatility. There’s no bad news making the rounds on Nio today, so this sudden midday drop is likely due to profit-taking.

I mean, if you banked a 200%-plus gain on a speculative Chinese EV stock, wouldn’t you take profits?

The company has investment potential (if you have the risk tolerance). But, if you’re looking to jump in, you should probably wait until the stock comes back to earth a bit more.

Let’s revisit our two rules, shall we?

Don’t open any message, attachment or link you don’t recognize!

Don’t open any message, attachment or link you don’t recognize!

Thank you.

Great Stuff: Feed the Beast

You better believe it’s that time again.

You have less than 12 hours to drop me a line at GreatStuffToday@banyanhill.com to make this week’s edition of Reader Feedback.

We take all kinds here: comments, questions, witty remarks and secret recipes. As always, no cursing, please. We can’t publish that s#&%.

I’ll get the festivities started for you:

Have you kept up with the Senate impeachment trials?

Would you spot a cyber hack or phishing scam — before it’s too late?

Have you ever made ridiculous profits off speculative Chinese stocks?

Are you keeping your New Year’s resolutions? (And is your local gym back to being empty?)

In the meantime, don’t forget to check out Great Stuff on social media. If you can’t get enough meme-y goodness, follow me on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram!

Until next time, good trading!

Regards,

Joseph Hargett

Great Stuff Managing Editor, Banyan Hill Publishing

[newyorktheater]

Novenas for a Lost Hospital

Peter Dinklage, Cyrano

The Second Woman, a 24-hour play at BAM

Playwright Stephen Adly Gurigis

Cole Porter at the York

Tony Kushner at the Public

Samuel D. Hunter

Mfoniso Udofia

Ntoszke Shange

Some of the most thrilling theater in New York this Fall, and certainly much of the weirdest, promises to be Off-Broadway. There are revivals of Tony Kushner’s first play, and Ntozake Shange’s best known “choreopoem,” new musicals with books by David Henry Hwang and Enda Walsh, a wild new 24-hour play, and a modern rewrite of Medea starring Rose Byrne and Bobby Cannavale. There are new plays by Harvey Fierstein, Stephen Adly Guirgis, Lucas Hnath Samuel D. Hunter, Martyna Majok, Richard Nelson, Jack Thorne (of “Harry Potter and the Cursed Child”), Mfoniso Udofia, and Meow Meow.

Like Broadway, Off-Broadway has its share of stars — among them this season, Peter Dinklage, Raúl Esparza, Jonathan Groff, Judith Ivey… and every star on Broadway, in caricature, thanks to the return of Forbidden Broadway. Unlike Broadway, Off-Broadway doesn’t come neatly packaged. (See my Broadway 2019-2020 Preview Guide.) Instead of 41 theaters within a few blocks of one another, there are hundreds of Off-Broadway theaters and theater companies spread out throughout the city.

So how to sort it all out?

The shows I just mentioned are being presented by the Public Theater, New York Theatre Workshop,  Brooklyn Academy of Music, Lincoln Center, and some of the  other theaters that have proven reliable season after season, presenting shows I’ve consistently found satisfying, or at least worthwhile.

That is why, below, I present the Off-Broadway Fall season largely by grouping the shows together with the theater that’s presenting or producing them. I order the list of theaters more or less according to my preference for them (determined by such factors as their recent track record, the promise of the new season, and by the overall experience I’ve had with the theater as theatergoer and critic.) There is an added advantage to looking at the Off-Broadway season this way: Most of these theaters offer memberships or subscriptions. (Keep in mind this preview just lists the first half of their 2019-2020 seasons. I’ll put together a Spring preview in January..)

After my favorite theaters, I list some individual shows from other venues that look particularly intriguing.

Click on the theater’s name for more information about the theater, and on the show title for more about the individual production.

(The asterisk *, explained more fully at the bottom, indicates the four theatrical empires that are both on and Off Broadway. Listed here are only their Off-Broadway offerings. Again, go to my Broadway preview guide for the rest)

I’ve put a red check mark — √ — besides a few shows about which I’m especially curious, and at least hopeful. (I’ll only know if I was right to be interested once I see them.)

THE PUBLIC THEATER

425 Lafayette Street and in Central Park. Twitter: @PublicTheaterNY

From A Chorus Line to  Hamilton, the Public has served as a kind of feeder theater for Broadway (Seawall/A Life and Girl From The North Country this season alone) but the downtown empire that Joe Papp created half a century ago is not successful because of its commercial aspirations, but largely in spite of them.  It often takes artistic risks that many institutions its size avoid.

Hercules

This staging of a 1997 Disney cartoon was the latest of the Public Works’ “pageants” involving hundreds of amateur performers who belong to community partner organizations from all five boroughs. My review.

Soft Power

An odd and hilarious fever dream imagining an American musical as created by theatermakexs in a future dominant Chinese society, created by David Henry Hwang (M. Butterfly, Yellow Face) and Jeanine Tesori (Fun Home; Violet; Caroline, or Change)

For Colored Girls

October 8 – November 24. Opens October 22nd.

A revival of Ntozake Shange’s “For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/When The Rainbow is Enough,” an unlikely Tony-nominated  hit on Broadway in 1976 that Shange (who died last October) called a “choreopoem.” It tells the stories of seven black women using poetry, song, and movement.

The Michaels

October 19 – November 17. Opens October 27

Richard Nelson, best-known for his multi-part, low key, in real time family sagas The Apple Family plays and The Gabriels:Election Year in the Life of One Family, brings us another one. In the kitchen belonging Rose Michael, a celebrated choreographer, she and those around her cook dinner, rehearse modern dances, eat and talk — about art, death, family, dance, politics, and the state of America. The seven-member cast includes Nelson regulars Jay O. Sanders and Maryann Plunkett.

√ A Bright Room Called Day

October 29 – December 8

A revival of this 1985 play by Tony Kushner, which was his first, and which he partially rewrites. Agnes, an actress in Weimar Germany, and her cadre of passionate, progressive friends, are torn between protest, escape, and survival as the world they knew crumbles around them. Her story is interrupted by an American woman enraged by the cruelty of the Reagan administration, and a new character, facing the once unthinkable rise of authoritarianism in modern America.

  BROOKLYN ACADEMY OF MUSIC

Three buildings in Fort Greene, Brooklyn, including BAM Harvey at 651 Fulton St. Twitter: @BAM_Brooklyn

BAM dates back to 1861, but for decades now it has been known for its avant-garde offerings in dance, music, opera, film, and, yes, theater, primarily in its  Next Wave Festival  presented annually in the Fall.  The theater pieces — some are too sui generis to be called plays or musicals — have consisted largely of imports from Europe, and have short runs (sometimes just a day or two.) I list BAM high up this year because it’s under a new artistic director David Binder (indeed the first head of BAM with that title.) Binder is both a Tony-winning Broadway producer (a dozen shows starting with the 2004 revival of “Raisin in the Sun”) and an adventurous impresario — the original as well as the Broadway producer of “Hedwig and the Angry Inch,” and producer of festivals featuring such groundbreaking theater artists as Anna Deavere Smith and Taylor Mac.

Swan Lake

October 15-20

Ireland’s Michael Keegan-Dolan deconstructs the classic love story between a prince and a female who’s a swan by day and a human by night.

The Second Woman

October 18

An only-at-BAM kind of show. Over a period of 24 hours, one woman and 100 men preform repeat the same scene 100 times, with different results. It’s inspired by Cassavetes’ meta-theatrical 1977 film Opening Night. Stay as little or as long as you want.

What If They Went To Moscow

Oct 23-27

Based on Chekhov’s Three Sisters,but experimental with audience reactions to two different media. Two audiences in different BAM theaters watch the live performance of the show — one on stage, the other as a film — and then switch at intermission.

√ Hamnet

October 30 – November 3

Irish theater company Dead Centre, inspired by Shakespeare’s son Hamnet, who died at the age of 11, creates a play about a boy searching for his father

User Not Found

Nov 6-16

A site-specific work that invites you to be a voyeur, and asks the question: What happens to your digital life after you’re gone?

The End of Eddy

Nov 14-21

A stage adaptation of the autobiographical novel by Édouard Louis, written when he was 21 years old, about being bullied for being gay. Part of a series of events celebrating Édouard Louis in collaboration with St. Ann’s Warehouse (See below.)

Barber Shop Chronicles

Dec 3 – 8

Nigerian-British playwright Inua Ellams weaves a rich tapestry of unfiltered stories about father-son relationships and black masculinity, set to an Afrobeat score, and set in barbershops in six different cities (none of them in the U.S.)

In Many Hands

Dec 11 – 15

Exploring our relationship to touch, New Zealand-bred artist Kate McIntosh does away with the stage and performers, convening a small group of spectators for an intimate shared adventure through the particularities and nuances of our tactile sense

A Very Meow Meow Holiday Show

Dec 12-14

Using satire and music, the performer known as Meow Meow meditates on the perils, pleasures, and actual point of the season

√ Medea

Jan 12 – Feb 23

(Technically not in the Fall season, but hard to omit) Rose Byrne and Bobby Cannavale star in writer-director Simon Stone’s rewrite of the Euripides tragedy.

LINCOLN CENTER THEATER*

@LCTheater

The shows at Lincoln Center’s Off-Broadway venues are inexpensive (especially at the Claire Tow theater, where initial-run tickets cost $20) and often rewarding. I’m hoping that someday they will be literally more inviting to independent New York theater critics. The two offerings this Fall look especially exciting.

Power Strip

October 5 – November 17. Opens October 21.

In this new play by Sylvia Khoury, Yasmin, a young Syrian refugee, spends her days tethered to an electric power strip in a Greek refugee camp, discovering that she must forget everything she values in order to survive.

√Greater Clements

November 14 to January 19. Opens December 9.

Samuel D. Hunter’s new play takes place in the fictional town of Greater Clements, Idaho, a mining community where properties are being purchased by wealthy out-of-state people, forcing out lifelong residents. Judith Ivey portray Maggie, ready to shut down her family-run Mine Tour and Museum, when an old friend pays a visit. Although I’ve never been to Idaho,  I’ve liked every Hunter play I’ve ever seen, from Whale to Lewiston/Clarkston.

NEW YORK THEATER WORKSHOP

79 East 4th Street. Twitter: @NYTW79

NYTW has gotten much attention this past year for presenting three shows that (eventually) moved to Broadway, Heidi Schreck’s “What The Constitution Means To Me,” the multi-Tony winning  “Hadestown”  and now “Slave Play” — quite a roll.

In the new season, there are no dates listed yet for all but the first two of their 2019-2010 shows

Runboyrun & In Old Age

September 4, 2019—October 13, 2019

The latest two chapters from Mfoniso Udofia nine-part saga, The Ufot Cycle, about a Nigerian-American family.  (Sojourners and Her Portmanteau from the cycle were seen at NYTW in 2017). The two dramas are performed as a single evening of work,

Sing Street

The same team that turned the movie “Once” into a beloved musical have now hope the reaction will be the same for their new musical based on a movie. With a book by Enda Walsh, “Sing Street” takes us to Dublin in 1985 and focuses on 16-year-old Conor and his schoolmates, who turn to music to escape troubles at home and impress a mysterious girl. Rebecca Taichman (Indecent) will direct.

Endlings

On the Korean island of Man-Jae, three elderly haenyeos—sea women—spend their dying days diving into the ocean to harvest seafood. Across the globe on the island of Manhattan, a Korean-Canadian playwright, twice an immigrant, spends her days wrestling with the expectation that she write “authentic” stories about her identity.

Sanctuary City

What are we willing to sacrifice for somebody we love?  This is a new play by Martyna Majok, Putlizer winning playwright of “Cost of Living.,” who in such dramas as Ironbound and “queens” has given a voice to the new immigrant.  NYTW has put this play on its schedule twice before. Let’s hope it’ll be ready this time, though surely not until the Spring.

  PLAYWRIGHTS HORIZONS

416 W. 42nd St. Twitter: @PHNYC

Annie Baker’s “The Flick” is one of six plays that originated at Playwrights Horizons that have won the Pulitzer Prize for Drama. The theater offers new plays and musicals that are consistently worthwhile, in an environment that feels dedicated both to the theater artists and the theatergoers.

Wives

Opens September 16

From the brawny castles of 16th Century France, to the rugged plains of 1960s Idaho, to the strapping fortresses of 1920s India, all hail the remarkable stories of Great Men! — and their whiny, witchy, vapid, veng

Heroes of the Fourth Turning

September 13 – October 27

Set in Wyoming a week after the deadly 2017 Charlottesville riot, the new play sees four young conservatives reunite for a backyard barbecue in Wyoming. Written by Will Arbery (“Plano”)

The Thin Place

“November 22” (dates unclear)

Lucas Hnath’s play transforms the theater into an intimate séance, c

  ATLANTIC THEATER

Cofounded in 1985 by David Mamet and William H. Macy, this theater entered in a whole new realm of achievement in my eyes with the acclaimed musical The Band’s Visit

Sunday

A new play by Jack Thorne (Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Parts 1 & 2), directed by Lee Sunday Evans. Friends gather for a book group, anxious to prove their intellectual worth, but that anxiety gets the better of any actual discussion as emotional truths come pouring out

√ Halfway Bitches Go Straight To Heaven

November 14- December 22

Stephen Adly Guirgis (“Between Riverside and  Crazy“)  explores the harrowing, humorous, and heartbreaking inner workings of a women’s halfway house in New York City, helmed by John Ortiz (LAByrinth Artistic Director) in his off-Broadway directing debut.

MCC THEATER

 Twitter: @mcctheater

They moved from downtown to midtown, but I don’t hold that against them.

  The Wrong Man

September 18 – October 27

With book, music and lyrics by Ross Golan, direction by Thomas Kail (Hamilton), this musical is set in Reno, Nevada, and tells the story of Duran, a man just scraping by who is framed for a murder he didn’t commit,

September 18 – October 27

Seared

October 3 – November 10

Theresa Rebeck’s play about a talented by temperamental chef who scores a big mention in the press for his signature scallops,  but, much to the frustration of his business partner, refuses to repeat himself for the masses. Cast includes Raul Esparza and Krysta Rodriguez

PARK AVENUE ARMORY

Although the Armory has been presenting theater for a decade, it only became must-see for me in the last few years, thanks to. A Room in India,  The Damned and The Lehman Trilogy (which is transferring this season to Broadway.). The theater they present is largely European, cutting-edge, often hybrids, and they require patience and a willingness to be lost. They also just have a handful of shows per season. But, offered in the vast expanse of the Armory’s Drill Hall, these aren’t just shows; they’re events. This year, for the first time, they have commissioned a play “from the ground up.”

Antigone

September 25 – October 6

Acclaimed director Satoshi Miyagi creates a new vision of Sophocles’s fabled mythology through the prism of Japanese culture: Noh Theater, Indonesian shadow play, and Buddhist philosophy.

Black Artists Retreat

October 11th and 12th

Bridging the gap between fine art and social activism, Theaster Gates hosts his renowned Black Artists Retreat for the first time outside of Chicago

Judgment Day

December 5 – January 11

Directed by Richard Jones (Hairy Ape) and adapted by Chris Shinn (“‘four”)  rom Ödön von Horváth’s 1937 play, this productions marks the Armory’s first theatrical commission “from the ground-up” It explores morality and guilt in a small town.

  ST. ANN’s WAREHOUSE

Although it primarily presents avant-garde European exports,  this Brooklyn theater climbed up in my preference thanks to Taylor Mac’s homegrown   24-Decade History of Popular Music   and then “Oklahoma!” which transferred to Broadway.

History of Violence

November 13 – December 1

A German-language stage adaptation of Édouard Louis’s autobiographical novel about a traumatic event that began in desire. Louis is also the basis for BAM’s The End of Eddy.

Keep

December 4 -19

British storyteller and comedian Daniel Kitson’s latest solo piece

    OTHER HIGHLIGHTS

Forbidden Broadway The Next Generation (The Triad)

September 18 – November 30

After a five year absence, Gerard Alessandrini is back, roasting everything you’ve seen on Broadway since the last edition of Forbidden Broadway.

Photo Credit: Julieta Cervantes

√ Novenas for a Lost Hospital (Rattlestick Playwrights Theater)

September 5- October 13. Opens September 19

A play by Cusi Cram starring Kathleen Chalfant that serves as an homage to the women nurses over the 161 year history of St. Vincent’s Hospital in Greenwich Village, which was at the epicenter of a cholera epidemic in the 19th century and the AIDS epidemic a century and a half later. The show features a prologue, in which theatergoers visit the garden of St. Johns in the Village, in the sight of the hospital site, now turned into condominiums, and an epilogue visiting he NYC AIDS Memorial Park.

Cyrano (The New Group at Daryl Roth)

October 11 – November 24

Peter Dinklage (Game of Thrones) stars in this musical version of Edmond Rostand’s  tale of unrequited love and ghostwritten letters,

Little Shop of Horrors (West Side Theater)

A revival hard to argue given that its cast includes Jonathan Groff, Tammy Blanchard, Christian Borle,

A Celebration of Cole Porter (York Theater)

September 28 to November 3

Eleven performances each of “Fifty Million Frenchmen ,” The Decline and Fall of the Whole World As Seen Through the Eyes of Cole Porter” and “Panama Hattie”

√Bella Bella (Manhattan Theater Club)

October 21 – December 1. Opens October 22.

Harvey Fierstein stars as Bella Abzug in a solo-play he’s written set in 1976, on the eve of her bid to become New York State’s first female Senator,

Scotland, PA (Roundabout)

September 14 to December 8

A new musical adaptation of Billy Morrissette’s 2001 film riffing on Macbeth, set in a sleepy Pennsylvania town, involving the manager of a burger joint and his ambitious wife.

Other companies and theaters worth checking out:

Ars Nova

Classic Stage Company

Mint Theater

Mayi Theater Company

National Black Theatre

  There are also commercial shows put together by independent producers that are presented in theaters for rent, such as:

Cherry Lane Theatre Daryl Roth Theatre Gym at Judson Lucille Lortel Theatre New World Stages Orpheum Theater The Players Theatre Snapple Theater Center Theatre Row Union Square Theater Westside Theatre

*THE ASTERISK: Off-Broadway AND Broadway

*Just to complicate matters, several of the resident theaters also present shows in Broadway theaters they own  –  Lincoln Center (Vivian Beaumont Theater), Manhattan Theater Company or MTC (the Samuel J. Friedman), the Roundabout Theater Company (American Airlines, Stephen Sondheim, Studio 54), and starting this season, Second Stage Theatre, which has bought the Helen Hayes. Their Broadway offerings are listed in my Broadway 2017-2018 Season Guide

What Is Broadway, Off-Broadway, Off-Off Broadway?

Off-Broadway theaters, by definition, have anywhere from 100 to 499 seats. If a theater has more seats than that, it’s a Broadway house. If it has fewer, it’s Off-Off Broadway.

There are some terrific Off-Off Broadway theaters, sometimes confused for Off-Broadway. These include (but are not limited to)

 The Flea

Labyrinth Theater

 LaMaMa ETC.

New theaters and theater companies crop up all the time.

Monthly Calendar of Openings

Because there are so many shows Off-Off Broadway, and their runs are so limited, I include them in my monthly theater preview calendar (along with Broadway and Off Broadway openings) posted near the beginning of each month.

FOR MORE INFORMATION

For more information about Off-Broadway, go to  The League of Off-Broadway Theatres and Producers (aka The Off-Broadway League).  This should not be confused with the Off-Broadway Alliance, which is a separate organization (though they should probably merge, no?)

What’s Off-Broadway Dough? Does that mean there’s not much of it? pic.twitter.com/KHH1kApUzb

— New York Theater (@NewYorkTheater) September 4, 2016—-

Some might argue there is little distinction anymore between Broadway and Off-Broadway, especially in a season when so many downtown darlings are moving to Broadway, such as Taylor Mac,Tarell Alvin McCraney, Dominique Morisseau, Anais Mitchell (See Spring 2019 Broadway Preview Guide: A Season of Theater Geniuses Making Their Broadway Debuts)  

Yet, Off-Broadway remains less expensive  and, frankly, potentially more rewarding. It’s also more sprawling — not quite possible to present all the riches of a season in a single post.

I’ve put a red check mark — √ — besides a few shows about which I’m especially excited or intrigued. (I’ll only know if my excitement was justified once I see them.)

Click on the theater’s name for more information about the theater, and on the show title for more about the individual production.

(Also check out my monthly calendar of openings)

a surreal errand. “He gets mixed up with a giant lobster, Roman Polanski, a pornography ring, Walt Disney, stranded children, a murder, and Jorge Luis Borges…”

ROUNDABOUT* LAURA PELS

The empire that is now Roundabout includes three Broadway theaters, and that’s where most of the attention is focused, mostly on star-studded revivals, especially musicals.  But its fourth building houses two Off-Broadway theaters (one of them a tiny “Black Box” theater.) It is in its Off-Broadway facility that Stephen Karam’s The Humans originated, which went on to Broadway and Tony love. The Roundabout’s “Underground” series discovers new playwriting talent, with tickets priced at $35.

Merrily We Roll Along

January 12 – April 7. Opens February 19.

Fiasco Theater reimagines Stephen Sondheim’s musical about a trio of showbiz friends who fall apart and come together over 20 years, going backwards in time.

Something Clean

May 4 – June 30. Opens May 30.

Playwright Selina Fillinger’s new drama slips into the jagged cracks of a sex crime’s aftermath—the guilt, the grief, and the ways we grapple with the unthinkable.

√ Toni Stone

May 23 – August 11. Opens June 20

Uzo Adubi stars as the first woman to go pro in the Negro Leagues, in this play by Lydia Diamond directed by Pam McKinnon, based on a true story.

MANHATTAN THEATER CLUB*

This looks like a good lineup, but It’s hard to embrace a theater completely when you don’t get to see many of its plays.

The Cake

February 12 – March 31. Opens March 5

In what sounds like a recent Supreme Court case, Debra Jo Rupp portrays a baker in North Carolina who refuses to create a wedding cake for a same-sex couple. The difference — one of the brides is the daughter of a dear friend, now deceased. The play is by Bekah Brunstetter (who writes for the TV series This Is Us.)

Continuity

May 7 – June 9. Opens May 21

Though the description doesn’t tell us very much —  a comedy “in six takes where storytelling and science collide…” — it is written by Beth Wohl (playwright of the odd but satisfying Small Mouth Sounds) and directed by Rachel Chavkin (Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812).

Long Lost

May 14 – June 30.  Opens June 4.

A play by Donald Margulies (Dinner with Friends) directed by Daniel Sullivan. “When troubled Billy appears out-of-the-blue in his estranged brother David’s Wall Street office, he soon tries to re-insert himself into the comfortable life David has built with his philanthropist wife and college-age son. What does Billy really want?”

  SECOND STAGE*

This 40-year-old theater has became the fourth “non-profit” to produce theater both on and Off Broadway.

Superhero

January 31 – March 24.Opens February 28.

A musical, with music and lyrics by Tom Kitt (Next to Normal) and a book by John Logan (Red), about “a fractured family, the mysterious stranger in apartment 4-B, and an unexpected hero…”

Dying City

“Begins May 2019”

Christopher Shinn’s play is set in a spare Manhattan apartment, where a young widow receives an unexpected visit from the twin brother of her deceased husband. Dying City explores the human fallout of global events, including the Iraq War and the terrorist attacks of 9/11, through the interwoven stories of three characters

  OTHER HIGHLIGHTS

Fiddler on the Roof in Yiddish moves to Stage 42, opening February 21st.

Alice By Heart (MCC). January 30 to March 10. Opens February 26 Two friends who escape in the cherished story of Alice in Wonderland during the London Blitz of World War II. The musical is by Duncan Sheik and Steven Sater, the team that came up with Spring Awakening.

Fleabag (Soho Playhouse) February 28 – April 7 The play by Phoebe Waller-Bridge that inspired the BBC television series currently being shown on Amazon Prime.

Daddy (Vineyard/New Group at Signature) February 12- March 24. Opens March 5. In the second Off-Broadway play by Jeremy O. Harris (who gained some notoriety with his Slave Play in the fall), Alan Cumming plays Andre, an older white art collector who befriends Franklin, young black artist on the verge of his first show. Their bond creates a battle of wills with Franklin’s mother.

Diary of One Who Disappeared (BAM) April 4-6 In 1917, Czech composer Leoš Janáček became obsessed with a married woman 40 years his junior. In the throes of despair, he penned more than 700 love letters and a haunting 22-part song cycle called Diary of One Who Disappeared, about a village boy who falls in love with a Romany girl. Director Ivo van Hove, in collaboration with Flemish opera company Muziektheater Transparant, brings his trademark physicality and stripped-down aesthetic to bear on Janáček’s opera.

Octet (Signature) April 30 – June 9 Dave Malloy, composer and conceiver of Natasha, Pierre and The Great Comet of 1812, is not through experimenting.  His new musical is scored for an  a cappella chamber choir and explores high-tech addiction, his libretto inspired by Internet comment boards, scientific debates, religious texts and Sufi poetry.

  Other companies and theaters worth checking out:

Ars Nova

Classic Stage Company

Mint Theater

Mayi Theater Company

There are also commercial shows put together by independent producers that are presented in theaters for rent, such as:

Cherry Lane Theatre Daryl Roth Theatre Gym at Judson Lucille Lortel Theatre New World Stages Orpheum Theater The Players Theatre Snapple Theater Center Theatre Row Union Square Theater Westside Theatre

*THE ASTERISK: Off-Broadway AND Broadway

*Just to complicate matters, several of the resident theaters also present shows in Broadway theaters they own  –  Lincoln Center (Vivian Beaumont Theater), Manhattan Theater Company or MTC (the Samuel J. Friedman), the Roundabout Theater Company (American Airlines, Stephen Sondheim, Studio 54), and Second Stage Theatre, which has bought the Helen Hayes. Their Broadway offerings are listed in my Broadway 2017-2018 Season Guide

What Is Broadway, Off-Broadway, Off-Off Broadway?

Off-Broadway theaters, by definition, have anywhere from 100 to 499 seats. If a theater has more seats than that, it’s a Broadway house. If it has fewer, it’s Off-Off Broadway.

There are some terrific Off-Off Broadway theaters, sometimes confused for Off-Broadway. These include (but are not limited to)

 The Flea

Labyrinth Theater

 LaMaMa ETC.

New theaters and theater companies crop up all the time.

Monthly Calendar of Openings

Because there are so many shows Off-Off Broadway, and their runs are so limited, I include them in my monthly theater preview calendar (along with Broadway and Off Broadway openings) posted near the beginning of each month.

FOR MORE INFORMATION

For more information about Off-Broadway, go to  The League of Off-Broadway Theatres and Producers (aka The Off-Broadway League).  This should not be confused with the Off-Broadway Alliance, which is a separate organization (though they should probably merge, no?)

What’s Off-Broadway Dough? Does that mean there’s not much of it? pic.twitter.com/KHH1kApUzb

— New York Theater (@NewYorkTheater) September 4, 2016—-

Off Broadway Fall 2019 Preview Guide Some of the most thrilling theater in New York this Fall, and certainly much of the weirdest, promises to be Off-Broadway.

[salmankhanholics]

★ “People are embarrassed to do good things”: Salman Khan !

June 17, 2017

Loved by all and the darling of the box office, Salman Khan, was never able to strike a balance between pleasing his diehard fans as well as the critics, until lately.

In the last few years, the superstar has put his best foot forward and received not only his usual dose of adulation from his dedicated audience but also managed to impress naysayers with his acting chops, at least, most of them.

In the last few years, the superstar has put his best foot forward and received not only his usual dose of adulation from his dedicated audience but also managed to impress naysayers with his acting chops, at least, most of them.

Now the actor has taken another big risk by skipping his larger-than-life onscreen persona to play a simpleton in Kabir Khan’s upcoming film Tubelight.

Ahead of the film’s release, Salman Khan, in a freewheeling chat with Vajir Singh and Shweta Kulkarni, reveals how he is pushing the envelope to get better with each film. In characteristic style, he says, “Level bada rahe hai mediocrity ke upar.” Over to the man of the moment…

Another Eid and another big release…

These festive dates are the best dates for movie releases. Since it’s the holiday period, people have received their salaries, families get together at that point of time…

Also, here, if we want some entertainment, we go either to a park or to watch a movie. So I think the culture we have of people going and watching a movie together, with friends or family… I think that’s the best outing there is in our country.

Since 2009, since Wanted, Eid has become synonymous with Salman Khan.

I lucked out with that. There were plenty of movies even before that. Biwi No 1 also released during Ramadan, against the World Cup. It did really well. So, for us, we never got Eid-Eid, most of them were during Ramadan, three-four days before Eid. But after that, ek boost milta hai which is a fun thing.

My first film Maine Pyaar Kiya released in December during Christmas. Now Tiger Zinda Hai will release during Christmas. So, basically, these days, you know like January 26, August 15, during children’s vacations, during exam time, no one releases their films. So basically, when people are relaxed, exams are over, people are in a happy mood, those are the times you release films. Even festive seasons have a nice, happy mood, like Diwali, Holi… people have holidays on these days and they want to go and see a movie during that time.

You just mentioned Biwi No 1, which opened with 100-per cent occupancy. Those were times when movies were judged on their occupancy, whereas today it’s all about the opening… Rs 20 crore, Rs 30 crore… Does it pressurise you, that more than anything else, it’s only about the number of crores a film earns?

You know, pressure comes when you are doing a film that you don’t have full confidence in. So, if you have not signed the film for the right reasons, which means you have not loved the script, but instead signed it under some pressure ke dost bana raha hai, dates are available, you are not getting good offers… then you are under pressure, and when you are giving interviews and stuff like that, aap jhoot bol rahe ho. You are basically conning the audience.

You say, ‘This is the best film that I have ever done’, when you know that yeh picture mein kuch dum hai hi nahi aur aap usko promote kiye jaa rahe ho. I think that has stopped with all of us since quite some time. Earlier, producers and directors did not let us hear the script. We didn’t know what the characters were like in the movie. Agar aapne bola ki ‘sir story suna di jiye,’ toh it was considered rude. It was like, ‘Yeh toh batameez aadmi hai.’

However, now we do only what we like. So when you do interviews and stuff like that now, you are genuinely talking about the movie and your character. How that translates later is decided only by your fans.

Also, today, everyone wants to break records, even we want to do that, everyone wants to do that and it is the best thing for the industry. But when that doesn’t happen, we hope that kum se kum flop na ho and nobody loses their money. A lot goes into making a film, it’s almost a dedh saal ka process, so much creativity is involved, so much hard work, so many people’s careers depend on it, so a movie should not flop.

Earlier, when a movie would flop, jashn hota tha, party hoti thi. Now people have realised that if kisi ki film flop hogayi, toh yeh asar humpar bhi padega. So, today, everyone in the industry wants every film to do well. A regional film like Baahubali (The Conclusion) made about 500 crores here, with the Hindi film-going audience. That means our Hindi audiences are so amazing ki they watch an English film, they watch a Hindi film, and they watch a regional film too because the film is a good film.

So they don’t have this, arey yeh Tamil film hai, Telegu film hai, picture acchi hai? Haan, firhum jayenge dekhne ke liye. For the business that Baahubali has made, some of the credit goes to Hindi cinema viewers. Obviously, the director SS Rajamouli is fantastic; the writer is fantastic, like he is the most amazing writer that is there. Vijayendra Prasadji even wrote Bajrangi Bhaijaan for us. So you know it’s a whole package of combinations.

The story goes that the writer wanted only you to play Bajrangi…

Yes, yes pehle toh we didn’t know ki kya hai. Then Kabir (Khan) met him in Hyderabad, he then called me from Hyderabad and said, ‘Ya, this is good.’ Otherwise, main tohdodge kar raha tha, but what a man and what an outstanding script he gave us. So I heard it and loved it.

First Ek Tha Tiger, then Bajrangi Bhaijaan. Was it difficult for the Kabir-Salman combination to come together for Tubelight?

We would have never made Tubelight if the script was not better than Bajrangi. It was fantastic on the script level. For the next film, we will have a problem because it has to be better than Tubelight!

Kabir Khan has brought the best shades of you onscreen, he has unleashed you as an actor…

(Laughs) Yes, our journey started with Ek Tha Tiger. It was a very cool stylish film, and then we went on to this emotional film called Bajrangi, a very simple character, and now we have come up with Tubelight, which is a lot simpler than Bajrangi Bhaijaan. It’s a very pure, noble character. He just wants to stop the war so that his brother comes back to him. He wants the Chinese jawans to go back to their families, and our soldiers to get back to their families, bas ki yeh jung khatam hojaye. You know, hum sab mein ek cheez bahut kam hogayi hai, woh hai yaqeen.

We don’t believe in ourselves any more. Everyone says we gave our best but nahi hua. That means you haven’t given your best. Agar aapne best diya hota, toh woh ho jaata. This happens because you don’t have enough confidence in yourself, or someone has discouraged you because of which your morale has broken and you cannot achieve what you actually want to achieve.

You know, we always say, kaash kuch aur maang leta, or arey I was just thinking about you and you called, toh usme toh koi telephone vagre toh hai nahi na, apne socha and it was conveyed to the universe and the universe conspired to get you there. So when somebody needs something and s/he sends it out in the universe, the universe works like a wireless and in the end what you desire, from somewhere or the other, comes to you. It’s all belief.

Coming back to the character, this boy, Laxman, stays in Jagatpur and he is praying and believes that he will stop the war and his brother will come back.

In what ways could you relate to your character, Laxman?

Not any more. I mean, we have grown up and that innocence has gone. We have become smart; we have become clever; there is a certain amount of corruption in our thought. So, even when we want to do something, we can’t do it. We are afraid of what people will think… Yeh toh image change karne ki koshish kar raha hai, or he is trying to show a different side. We are always aware of all this.

When we were young, 12 or 14 years old, thoughts like these never bothered us. Today, people are embarrassed to do good things, which is the worst thing that has happened to all of us; it is really, really sad. Galat karne mein kisi ko koi problem nahi hai, lekin accha karne mein people are conscious. People are hesitant to do good.

Like you said, we have lost our innocence, whereas this character, Laxman, is very pure and very innocent. How did you bring out that innocence in him?

You remember your past, what you were like before you started movies, how you were in school. That was the connect I did. When I heard the script, I was, like, abhi ka Salman Khan toh yeh role play hi nahi kar payega. I had to go back to when I was 12-13 years old. Memories of when you are 12-13 years old are engraved in your brain. That was the journey I had to go through.

So, suddenly, Sohail and I started talking about when we were growing up, our friends, iska naam kya hai, yeh kaha hain, kuch kuch friends toh delete hi hogaye the life se… When we started talking, we discovered that one friend was in New Zealand, someone else was in Australia. There is this childhood friend who grew up with me, and when I was in New Zealand, he came to see me there and it was one of the best feelings ever. I keep in touch with all the school ke dost. So I connected to all those memories. I had to go back to when I was a child to get this character right.

What attracted you to Tubelight?

The script, you know, bada zamana ho gaya hai, ki bhaiyon ke upar kahani nahi aayi, and Tubelightbasically is a love story of two brothers. The elder brother is simple and the younger one is like a man, and one of these guys goes to war and the other one is waiting for his brother to come back, not knowing whether he will and what will happen to his life. He is a helpless boy, he can’t do anything, he can’t pick up a gun, he can’t go to war, he is not a tiger that he would just go get his brother back.

He has a different way to bring his brother back, which is the most noble – belief and self-confidence. You don’t have to pick up a gun, you don’t have to take on 50-60 people, but just by your niceness and your heart, you can achieve things. Since Sohail was playing the character, there was no acting involved, it went beautifully.

What was your thought process when Kabir narrated the film to you for the first time?

I actually loved the film. I loved the character. The screenplay goes so beautifully. So when he was narrating the script to me, I was totally involved with it. First, I didn’t see the character because it’s a very difficult character to play. You can go overboard, you can mimic someone, it could look caricaturish… then uss mein woh baat nahi aati.

So you either overdo it or you under play it. You need to strike the right chord. So 15 minutes into the film, when I was hearing it, I started getting the character right. By the time we were done with the narration, I was already there. Then the most difficult thing was to walk like the character and talk like the character. Once I got the walk and the talk, I was ready for it. Abproblem yeh hai ki I am doing Tiger Zinda Hai, and that walk is still stuck with me. So I have to get that swag back.

One thing one has consistently noticed over the years is your chemistry with kids onscreen; your emotions and expressions are so real when you have scenes with children.

I believe jiska time accha chal raha hai, whoever’s comic timing is working well, don’t disturb it. Uske beech ungli mat karo because you will only look like a fool. Similarly, don’t compete with kids because you don’t know what they will do. If you try to compete with a child, you are finished. The same goes for animals. You can compete with your co-stars and everyone else but don’t ever compete with these three things.

Usually, when there is a function or a gathering, ek aadmi ki timing uss waqt solid chal rahi hotihai, ab uske beech aap ghusoge na toh sab upset hojayenge. They’ll say, ‘Shut up, yaar, what are you doing?’ These are the places where you should never show off and try to say, ‘I can do better than him.’ You should never do that. You look better only if you are not doing anything and are just being yourself. Even acting-wise, if you don’t understand something, a scene which is very difficult, the less you do in that scene, the better it is. That’s the way I work.

Your new style of working is to do only one movie at a time. Do you miss doing three to four shifts, like you used to?

Dekho, kitne bade tubelight hai humlog, when we used to work for 4-5 lakh, at that time, we used to do 15-16 films and now that prices have increased, we should be doing that right now. Instead, we are doing one film at a time. But the concentration on that one film is a lot more. At that time, we didn’t know only what scenes we were doing. Who the co-star was, kiske dates hai… all my life I have heard, ‘Light aarahi hai, light ja rahi hai, light aarahi hai.’

Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam, Biwi No 1 and Kuch Kuch Hota Hai were shot at the same time. I used to shoot Hum Dil… from 6 am to 4-5 in the evening; then for Biwi No 1, I used to come to Mehboob Studios and shoot till about 12.30-1 am; and from 1 am to 6 am, I used to shoot for Kuch Kuch Hota Hai.

Then I realised that yeh bahut hogaya. When I used to bend, I used to tear a tissue. But the kind of films I am doing right now are 10 times more painful. I have taken one more panga now. Tiger Zinda Hai, after that, there is the dance film with Remo (D’Souza). I thought it was a dance film, that I would have to do a little more than what we usually do. But when I saw the clips of these kids, and when I watch TV… I am, like, yeh karna padega mereko?!? It’s all different now, acrobatics and what not!

An exciting phase, nevertheless…

Yes, level bada rahe hai mediocrity ke upar. Jitna ho sakta hai. Like, I went for the Sunil Grover show recently and I felt so incompetent. That is altogether another level. He played the doctor first, then he came in as Mr Bachchan… Baap re, baap. Me and Sohail just stared at him. It was actually Mr Bachchan in front of us! And he was not doing mimicry; it was like Mr Bachchan in real life. I told Sohail, look at this level, it’s phenomenal.

When doing a film like this, do you miss doing films like Dabangg or Wanted? The audience is waiting for the Salman Khan who is mastikhor.

Yes, so Tiger Zinda Hai is coming up, the dance film is coming up, and Dabangg 3 is coming up.

Lastly, as an actor, do you have any insecurity at this point in life?

No, it’s just that with every successive film, you try to do a better job. For that, the only insecurity is that I hope the writers write better and better stuff. That’s the only thing.

BOI

[sihaibahuang-blog]

Shenmu (one)

Shenmu The  first  chapter Through the flood of the universe, the earth and the earth have been condensed. In spite of the six cycles of rebirth, there was also a day of turmoil... Ghost cemetery is located in central tian yuan, the entire cemetery in addition to the man, the strongest of all previous dynasties, burial in the heterogeneous top practitioners, the rest every tomb buried an ancient gods or demons, this is a resting place belongs to the ghost. The grass in the cemetery is green and fragrant, and if there is no stone in the forest, it cannot be called a garden. On the outskirts of the cemetery is a large snow maple, which is unique to the mausoleum and has been passed down into the spirit of death. Snow maple green lush foliage, swaying gently in the breeze, as if to reminiscing about the past glory, snow-white petals whiteness, like snowflakes long floats in the air, it is the tears of the gods, seem to say that once sadness. Day and night in the cemetery have opposite views. Dust dense here during the day, the holy light perfuse the cemetery every inch of land, can see the ghost that ancient immortal strong spirit force into the various gods, even to see angels dancing west, Oriental fairy can be heard singing, entire cemetery within a sacred atmosphere. If this is the paradise of god during the day, this is the pure land of the night. Every time the sun sets and the night falls, the dark spirit begins to surge out of the graveyard, and the moon is overshadowed by the moon. At this time, you can see the ghosts and ghosts of the legend, the evil ghost in the lingyuan, and you can hear the long and shrieking howling of the ancient evil spirit. Sacred and terror and ghost cemetery is a common worship tianyuan mainland east and west, the practitioner ShengYuan, can often see people to come to festivals during the day, even in the night also can see some special practitioners to come to mourn, such as: the corpse of the east, west undead mage... The cemetery was the most peaceful of The Times, and the whole cemetery was quiet and there was no sound. Another day of the fall, and the time of the difference between the gods and the gods, yu hui of the yue hui will render the tomb of the enchanted garden in a strange and strange way. Each tomb is well managed and filled with flowers in front of each grave. Beside the tall ghost tombs have a low small grave, small grave without compelling, no tombstone, no flower, almost with a simple little topped the flush. As the years wore on, the unmarked grave was forgotten in the corner. The tomb of the gods in the sunset was even bigger, and the tomb of the unknown was much less remarkable. At this moment, however, the little tomb was changed, the small tomb slowly cracked, and the mound on the top began to roll down. A pale hand stretched to come out from the grave, followed by another, two palms forcibly FenYan steak live, a young man of the color of the grave with a clueless look on his face, slowly climb up, shaggy hair covered in dirt, broken clothes tightly in the body. In addition to being very pale, the young man looked very ordinary, the kind of character that was absolutely unnoticeable in the crowd. Where is this? Why am I here? The young man muttered to himself as he looked at the grave. Suddenly he was deeply attracted by a tomb inscriptions beside, to look at this time, if someone see that youth is absorbed on the tombstone of ancient writing, will get a shock, because the ancient text even the ancient culture of the old scholars research alliance can only shake head to sigh. At the moment of the inscription, the young man looked so dramatic that he exclaimed: "this is the tomb of the god of the east." Is this true? This is really the sixth avenue of the year, the legendary figure who was the most powerful man in the world. Don't... And god will die, too? Another tall tomb next to him once again struck him as the tomb of the western god of war, Caesar? Is it the western god who wears golden armor and holds a golden holy sword? He seemed to think of something, and turned his head to the outside, and stood out in the setting sun. Oriental cultivate immortality peony fairy's tomb, the tomb of western wisdom goddess Nancy, the tomb of eastern Wu Xianli changfeng, Oriental magic is the tomb of the proud heaven, the tomb of the big western Lord lucifer... Oh, my god! What's wrong with the world? Don't... The gods were dead, all... Buried here? The look of the young man's face was strange. But... The gods of the Oriental fairy land and the western magic continent... How to be buried together? Suddenly, the young man noticed at the foot of the grave, he suddenly froze, cold sweat soaked his broken clothes, he is like falling ice cellar was cold. I... I am from the grave... Climbing out... His eyes were blank, and his soul seemed to be drawn away from the body. I am chennan, I have... Dead, but... I'm resurrected... After a long time, there was a little bit of anger in the south's empty eyes, and finally a look of shock: oh my god! What's the matter? Now that I am dead, why do I get out of the grave again? ! Does god let me, the useless man, go on with his laborious life? ! After the shock, the face of chennan's face was more than a blank. He closed his eyes and put his arms around his head. He remembered clearly that he had been defeated in a duel, but now... The last act of the past is floating in the heart of the past, that which was gone, the eternal... Too many regrets in his heart! Heaven and earth are still vast, and the flowers and plants are still fragrant, but his heart is empty and there is no trace of it. It took Chen south for a long time to slowly start to climb from the ground, his eyes began to free inside the cemetery, he finally determined this is a belong to the tombs of ghost, after the shock, he gradually calmed down. Most hard diamond rock tomb have obvious carved on the years vicissitudes of life, this probably need to thousands of years, things change, thousands of years long time, hey hey... What a dream! "Chennan sighed. Looking at that stone, he was filled with doubts. The tomb of xiao zhen, the tomb of the three morons, the tomb of the sacred beam, the act of otto the knight of god. In addition to the demons, it appears that there are some strong men and a few foreign refiners. What happened 10,000 years ago? Why did the demon of immortality die? Why are the gods of the enchanted land and the enchanted continent buried together? Why am I buried here? The wind blew lightly, and his long, dirty hair was blown, and his lonely heart was blown away. Chennan shouted: who can tell me what happened? No one answered him. In the distance, the towering snow maple trees fluttered in the sky, floating in the air, falling like tears, and the dead spirit was crying! God is dead, he's gone, I'm alive... Why do you let me climb out of the grave? Where am I going? On the other side of the mountain, the sunset was red and red, and the red cloud of the sky was set on the Taoist temple. Chennan picked up the lost feelings. He knew that there were some things that were impossible to choose. He carefully filled the little graves under his feet and went outside to the cemetery. He couldn't help but feel as he walked through the spirit of the snow maple. He had never seen trees with such a strong aura. Was it a new tree in his long sleep, he wondered? When the whiteness of the petals fall down and fly in front of the Chen south, his eyes a blur, dusty memory is slowly opened, it is also a fallen petal season... He thought of the woman in his heart... The world is a sea of dust... Alas! Chennan shook his head and strode to the outside. When he walked out of the snow in maple, and as the sun goes down to the west, quiet and ghost cemetery is not quiet, dark magic gas since rising in the cemetery, the endless darkness over the whole cemetery. Chennan had heard a faint roar from the rear, but he didn't mind. He thought that after the day the beast began to haunt him. He stretched himself and said to himself, "for a thousand years, the body is not rusty. He knew his efforts were not good, but he should have no problem dealing with the normal beast. Snow in maple appeared three hut not far ahead, a skinny old man in the door, the old man weigh all best, engraved a weather-beaten wrinkles on her face. There was a strange feeling in the heart of chennan, the first person he had seen since he was a man, a touch of kindness, a sense of loss, a sense of confusion... He was born ten thousand years ago in front of his parents, and when he was born ten thousand years later, he faced such an old man. How can I connect my parents with this old man? He laughed at himself. The old man, leaning on a crutch, was walking towards him, and he was so frightened that he could be blown down by a gust of wind. Chen south rushed forward to hold the old man and the old man waved and motioned for him to loosen, with the tone of blame for he spoke a few words, but Chen south did not understand a word. The dense Ming voice made his heart a burst of cold, he suddenly wake up, have been in the past ten thousand years, his era of Chinese language has been abandoned by the history. He had hoped to learn about the world through the old man, but his words didn't make his hopes. The old man saw his eyes glaze over, complexion is not tempered, tone has become peace, but to see him or the color of with a clueless look on his face, the old man couldn't help but frowned, then pull up his hand toward the hut. The old man's instinct told him that the old man had no malice to him, but he could only play dumb because of his words. The old man took him to the hut, pointed to the wooden pail on the ground and pointed to a well, not far away, and then entered the room. Let me get the water? Does he want me to be a slave here? "He wondered. When the old man once again appeared in front of him, he know what wrong about the old man, those skinny hand hands over a half new garment unlined upper garment, the old man is obviously want him to change it. Looking at the faint smile on the old man's face, his face was not red, and he was in rags, dishevelled and dirty. There was a gloom in his heart, and he had been so embarrassed that he had made a silent mention of the barrel to the well. He worked his way through the body, and with a little effort, his broken clothes broke down and fell to the ground. This is the god silkworm treasure of the year! Time is the most relentless, the fire and fire and the invulnerable treasure clothes can't afford the erosion of thousands of years! The cold well water scoured his dirt, but he could not wash away the trouble of his heart. What should I do? I can't communicate with people without knowing the language of the mainland, so how can I survive in this world? Chennan dressed the old man for his clothes and went to the hut and smiled at the old man. A gust of rice came, and the old man walked slowly to the hearth and beckoned to him. At the end of the day, the old man handed him a bowl of porridge, and said to him: 10,000 years, I didn't think I was able to sit at the table. He is so empty that he should not eat greasy food. A bowl of porridge is fitting. After dinner, the sky was already dark, and chennan entered the room with the old man, and the old man lit a candle, and the light of the candle lighted the hut with a warm, warm color. The decoration in the room is simple, a wooden bed, a chair, a desk. With more than a dozen book desk is spotless, tidy put above, but the words on the cover, south don't know, after thousands of years the text on the mainland has long been beyond recognition, a lost his heart. When the old man walked to the other room, chennan lay in the chair with his thoughts, but there was no joy. Thousands of years ago, although he has a prominent family, but itself is unattractive, living in such a circle, he bear too much pressure, always suffered agonies of pain. He had grown tired of that kind of life, and it was not a relief for him to die if he had not been able to hold on to it. He managed to come back to life after ten thousand years, and although he had gotten rid of the heavy stress, everything changed... Chen south feel bitter, relatives, friends already in a dim, confidante also early to return in the loess ridge, now only he a person lonely to live in this in this world, he felt that have no life. Did I get rid of history, or was it abandoned by history? The candle dried up, the spark finally flicker, and the room plunged into darkness. The night was very quiet, but chennan was tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep. He forces himself to sit still and work his family's work. He wants to see if his strength is still there after all. The true gas was a trickle that swam in his body, and his powers did not change in the past. Because running XuanGong painstakingly, he senses immediately became more acute, if he hidden if not hear the depressing sorrow roar from the direction of the cemetery, creepy. There are so many beasts? This old man is so old, a man is at his grave here. What a danger! The south don't know, at this moment the old man had entered the ghost cemetery, he was carrying a basket of flowers in his hand, filled with fragrant snow maple. The old man turned a blind eye to the ghosts and ghosts, and he placed a few white and white petals on each front of the curtain. Chennan's home, the low small grave, which sank after a hollow hollow, was almost gone, only slightly higher than the surface of the earth. The old man shivered and walked over and sighed: alas! You have no tombstone, I am afraid that you will disappear from the memory of the world. It is better to be less glorified, more prosaic, clear and undisturbed. Where are you going? Where are you going? Then the old man crouched down, stretched out his hands, and scattered the raised turrets carefully, and the grave disappeared completely. A dozen petals floated down from the air, leaving a fragrant fragrance. As a ray of sunshine in the morning from the window into the house, the south opened my blurred eyes, said to himself: strange, father today how did not practise to send someone to push me, yes, he has fast into the fairy wu, which still have trouble tube I. Suddenly he noticed the house simple furnishings, fiercely sat up, he was for a long time before he murmured: so this is all true, and the thousands of years has been in a hurry! He gently pushed open the door of the hut to the courtyard, and the fresh air, with the fragrance of the flowers and flowers, came on, and it was refreshing. A faint mist of mist swirled around the forest, slowly moving, and the birds were not surprised, jumping up and down in the tree, and singing. Chennan closed his eyes and felt the harmonious poetry. Are you awake? The old man's voice came from behind him. Chennan couldn't understand the old man's words, so he responded with a smile. After eating breakfast, he stood up and pointed to the path to the distance and waved goodbye to the old man. He bowed deeply to the old man before he left. One hour later, he came to a small town. Because of his plain appearance and the clothes he wears, he is not noticed by anyone. It was the beginning of his new life, and he didn't understand the language on the mainland. South was amazed to see that, in addition to like him in a small town people with dark hair and dark eyes, and the residents of the blonde, black and red blue eyes, blue eyes... It seems that this 10,000 years has happened so much that I have to get into the society as soon as possible. Chennan suddenly felt cold in his back, a cold in his heart, and he knew that a master was staring at him. A legendary old monk not far behind him shake head to sigh a way: strange, I just feel this young people to have an aura of eccentric, under carefully explore how can have no? When the old monk went away, chennan could not look back, but he saw only one shadow, and the dust was in the air. Chen south remembered his father said to him: south you want to remember, to be able to see through our family XuanGong turnover rate are not simple, not a real martial arts masters, monks is born, you should take care all the more! He is a workman! Aren't these people rarely walk on earth? Chennan was deeply aware of the terrible things of such people, and was not afraid to be an enemy to the advanced martial arts masters. His father's words were in the ear:... To reframe the body and solidify the god of the earth, to the point of the moon and the moon, this is the ultimate goal of the monasticism, which is the realm of the fairy tao. And we observe that the way to go is the fate of cultivate one's morality, so as to achieve the legendary fairy wu, in most people's eyes, he walked by the road than originally, but... His father did not continue, but the south already understand, practitioners are not monks and nuns resist, because itself is a good example of his father, even if the order only after the successful man saw him with peers LunJiao. At the thought of this, chennan had no idea whether his father had finally entered the country of the fairies, if so... Perhaps there was a father and son. But at the thought of the tomb of the magic stone in the cemetery, he was in a panic. If my father had stepped into the realm of immortals, I feared that... He was in the dark. The people in the streets coming and going, that buys, the cacophony, noisy, but the south is very lonely, he felt that he is the world's outcast, ruthless abandoned by the history. I am a mediocre man, and since I have died, why have I come out of the tomb after a long time? There was a large cloud in the sky, and the sky was darkened. boom After a loud thunder, the shops are closed on both sides of the street, pedestrians on the street in a hurry, not in a few minutes on the street was nearly deserted, he was left alone to stand in the middle of the road. After the thunder and lightning, heavy rain, the cold rain drenched the south clothes, he felt a cold, however, cooler is his heart, his heart in the darkness. The world is big, where is my house? Between heaven and earth a rain curtain, a lonely figure walking on the street, leaving behind the chaos of the rain. Ten thousand years ago, chennan came from a family of martial arts, and had a very high talent for repairing wu. But then a nightmare began, and his family's work was too much to go back, and it fell from the second day to the middle of the first. At that time, his father was already standing in the peak of the martial arts, a family that had to be watched in all directions. In the dark days of the day, cold, ironic, ironic... The pressure from all sides was overwhelming. However, one person always believed that he would be able to shine. Thinking of that she, chennan had a sombre and unutterable pain. The rain, you know? What I regret most is that I didn't say the three words to you at the time: I love you. Shaohua is easy to die. It is the sorrow of his life that the rain is the everlasting pain in his heart. Chennan didn't know the direction, stumbled and ran into an alley. He felt the chest pain, a bloody smell coming up from the abdomen. wow He spat a mouthful of blood and fell into the mud. Rain jasmine... His eyes were black and he was unconscious. ―――――――――――――――――― It is necessary to mention that in the first chapter, there is a passage: beside the tall ghost tombs have a low tomb, a small grave without compelling, no tombstone, no flower, almost with a simple little topped the flush. As the years wore on, the unmarked grave was forgotten in the corner. See from here the small grave and other grave, ghost cemetery in addition to buried in the human to the strong, the heterogeneous top practitioners, the rest every tomb buried an ancient god or demon. But before the hero's death, it was a quiet place to be buried. I mention it because several of the book friends have asked me why the main character is raised from the tomb of the enchanted cemetery, but it is not so good. Well, there is an answer, and now that I have arrived, the question is no longer answered. Moreover, the hardest of the stone gravestones have been carved into the years, which may take more than a thousand years. Chennan was judging how long the past was, and two of the bookmates asked me this question, so mention it. PS:Ok, the first chapter is finished, please look forward to the next chapter