darkness, depths

I spent much of last week in Hobart, breathing in clean air and freezing in my socks.  One thing that was more refreshing than both of those experiences put together was my long-anticipated visit to MONA and its exhilarating presentation of artistic form.  Built into the cliffs of the Berriedale peninsula, the three-level building subverts the eye to carry visitors into the catacombs and depths of the collection.  Although perhaps one day destined to slide into the sea, almost bottomless staircases burrow deep into raw sandstone walls to quickly remind you of the strength of creation.

As the largest privately-funded museum in Australia MONA presents the private collection of David Walsh, and it's an impressive one at that.  Sublime curation of artworks means that the old and the new blend seamlessly and without a hint of displacement.  A lack of signage on artworks also encourages this alongside greater engagement with the works, as you're forced to look harder, look closer, and find a tangibility in your own mind - which is perhaps also aided by the iPod Touch hanging around your neck.

While MONA has been lauded for drawing visitors to Tasmania from all over the world, the outstanding execution of the collection lies in it's ability to employ artwork, architecture and new technologies to innovate the traditional museum experience.  It is nothing less than inspiring to visit a space which holds artwork but also manages to reshape and reform the standards of art viewing.  There were a number of times I paused to appreciate the freedom of interpretation that MONA embraces.  From the lack of signage on artworks, the welcoming of photography and use of technology, to simply being in a space which encourages noise, dialogue and altered lighting, I quickly recognised the impact of these freedoms on my visual experience.  The museum might have been criticised for a stunning existence which illuminates moral bankruptcy, or the decay of society through it's explicit and macabre pieces, but never have a left a gallery feeling as sated by creation as I did MONA.  And importantly, I am encouraged and inspired to keep creating myself.  

"And we kept silent. And still."

The next six weeks are curated from the past six weeks.

 

take me there

Photo: Bobby Chen

somewhere
Level 2, Royal Arcade 314 Little Collins St, Melbourne

When you’re a student, and a lover of fashion, I can vouch two things: one, you probably have little money (…or none, I’m just being polite here); and two, you frequently receive the icy daggers of shop assistants who think you have little right to be in their store because of your appearance.  They might be able to presume your steamy liaison with aforementioned problem one, but that’s not the point.  Scuffed shoes and a baggy shirt with a hole in the armpit should not be your passport to belittlement.

And that’s where somewhere comes in.  Perched high above the Royal Arcade, this homage to Nordic style and design sits sleek in an airy white studio.  Don’t be intimidated by its appearance, though: somewhere provides some of the friendliest service encountered within Melbourne’s fashion scene, and has a distinct and carefully curated range of wearables to back it up. 

Local talent is combined with emerging and established designers from around the world to create a considered – and affordable – retail environment free from affectation, stocking labels such as Handsom, Cheap Monday, Why Red, Won Hundred, Carly Hunter and Resteröds.

somewhere’s cool and friendly nature is reflected in the sharp, classic aesthetic of its wearables.  And as if you needed anymore convincing, the store also has a gallery space aimed at supporting local artists and fostering an environment of collective creativity.  The accessibility of their retail endeavours, extended to young artists and designers alike, means that the two spaces symbiotically nurture creativity in a welcoming setting. 

Go visit somewhere and you’ll be assured a great experience in effortless design and clothing by some really cool people.  And what about the next time you’re in a store with a snotty shop assistant who faux compliments your appearance or new shirt as a totally transparent sales technique? Tell them you picked it up from ‘oh, somewhere’.

the meaning of it all

I went to France when I was sixteen for three weeks with my family, not knowing much about anything expect that it was obviously a very nice looking place...and that I could conjugate all my French verbs.  Fast forward four years and the more my memories of the trip become hazier and selective, the more I realise that all the architecture, elegance and urbanity of Paris had quite a subconscious influence on my personal aesthetic.  It's probably something I'll continue to wax-lyrical on this blog but when I look at my wardrobe and its predominant variations of black, grey, white, blue and tan I think this is only something that I created once I returned without even knowing it.

I don't know why it's taken me so long to write about the style icon I revere with great respect, but Sofia Coppola is definitely the one individual (that I don't know personally) I look to for inspiration in a lot of my creative endeavours.  That effortlessly-cool chic!  As foremost my favourite film director, Coppola has the creative influence across multiple channels that I've only ever dreamed of.  Despite this, all her work - as well as her personal aesthetic - is constructed with more thought than what appears on the surface, and is proof that minimalist chic doesn't belong solely to the French.  She's made black loafers, crisp unbuttoned shirts and tailored pants her absolute own and she pulls it off like no one else....so much so she can even collaborate with Louis Vuitton and create a stellar line of leather goods just as perfect.  Small pieces of jewellery and an always-perfect-and-simple bob make her look refined, comfortable and too-cool for words.  I think I'll just link you to this site before I explode because it probably sums up my argument quite nicely.

hello founder

I can't say too much about this lovely brand because they're little and new and I don't know a lot about them but what I do know is that they're great!  Let me introduce you to Founder The Third: a Melbourne-based design label doing super things for the local independent fashion scene.  As expected I really like them because they do good quality, affordable basics that possess a nice consideration of form and structure...and the shopgirls are lovely!  I'll compare them to Bassike, but depending on your price point are a little bit more accessible.  I'm interested in the challenge the local scene faces against larger, international, mass-produced brands so supporting local talent is always a plus - take a peek of this article on StreetFash, a super proponent for the cause.  After opening a pop-up store in Melbourne Central for a few months Founder have now relocated their store to coexist with their studio in Richmond, which is a great way of engaging consumers and closing the gap between production and consumption in a more sustainable way.  I'm definitely looking forward to watching them grow.

http://hellofounder.tumblr.com/ 

Postcards From Far Away

Like countless other Australian tourists, two couples escape to a world of colour, street vendors and full-moon parties fuelled by temptation and excess. One of them doesn't return home. Wish You Were Here explores the repercussions of such decadence as married couple Alice (Felicity Price, who also co-wrote the film with producer Kieran Darcy-Smith, her husband) and Dave (Joel Edgerton) return to Sydney with Alice's sister Steph (Teresa Palmer), but without her boyfriend Jeremy (Antony Starr).  The premise is simple enough, but a night of drug fuelled partying makes way for a slow-burning narrative wherein infidelity, betrayal, violence and secrets splits the seams of the lives of all involved. 

Just like Christos Tsiolkas’ The Slap, Wish You Were Here chronicles the aftermath of a single event without much backstory, the catalyst for progression being the response of the characters both individually and with each other. A swirling nonlinear storyline gives little glimpses into both the past and present, backtracking from that night in Cambodia to the weeks after in Sydney. This means that we barely get to become involved with the characters - Jeremy, for example, is treated with detached contempt simply because he is missing. Because of this, the actions and thoughts of the other characters remain, on the surface, mostly unreasoned for most of the film. The relationship between Alice and Dave becomes increasingly complex and intensified without hope as the film shifts to familial trauma, but again this allows the audience to build what it may from the events in Cambodia. There were moments I was frustrated by the lack of dialogue but as the characters slowly became unconcealed, alongside the narrative, the motives of Darcy-Smith became even clearer. This filmmaking is the kind that I love for its deeply considered actions that, in this case of a psychological drama, make the film even more enjoyable.   

The visually beautiful locations of Sydney and Cambodia are given the honest representations they deserve, without the point of excess. The lurk of danger behind the lushness of these locations, and the concealing of their polar opposites, is evoked in the simple shifts of light and soft, subtle camera work.  Stunning to the eye in the same way the characters have been attracted to these locations in the first place, we are reminded of the anxiety and dread created in these idylls. The beaches of South East Asia and indeed, the naturalism of a suburban waterfront home, are marred with foreboding and a slow-eating decay.
 
Fluid cinematography and well-handled editing dips you in and out of flashbacks that are sometimes sensible, sometimes extravagant. In a lot of ways I was reminded of Martha Marcy May Marlene, which I saw earlier this year - the stifled atmospheres, ambiguous narrative and the hypnosis of psychological drama. Although not as ethereal, Wish You Were Here hits closer to the heart purely due to its relatable characters, which are so obvious in mentality but are often not portrayed to deserving accuracy in film. 
 


Many of the reviews I read on this film were critical of the heavy use of structural manipulation and the awareness of information being withheld from the audience. While this is an unmissable trait of psychological drama I definitely don't think that the ending was ill handled or a let down. If anything, the logicality of the final sequence and the fact that I didn't think about it happening during the entire film highlights Darcy-Smith's impressive ability to bind and submerge the viewer. It is only when his hold is relinquished - at the end - that you resurface and realise the immensity of the film's depth.  
 


The emotional honesty of the characters is what made this film so enjoyable; to see seemingly perfect lives fracture is frequented in storytelling, however maintaining believable reasoning for such emotions is not.  This achieved, Wish You Were Here is genuinely involving and intense.