Les Antliaclastes by Stephanie Thieullent.
Hilum opens with the ominous popping of corn, recipe patient stealthily reaching a crescendo before the pan jerks off stage to reveal an oversized scullery into which emerges a gremlin fairy creature. It’s like a creepy abandoned nursery of the netherworld, with recognisable objects and sounds mutated into the stuff of children’s nightmares. Almost immediately I fear for the dreams of the young children seated in front of us.
An array of wonderful grotesque puppets tumble and play, their strings pulled by the humans that tower above them in creamy lace outfits that resemble nightgowns. Their faces are covered, crocheted protrusions dangling trunk-like as they bend forward over their proteges, interacting with and manipulating them at the same time.
Les Antliaclastes by Gareth A Hopkins.
But in this strange world full of curiously humanoid critters it is not the giant ogres that control the tale – such as there was one – but the rhythm of the washing machine cycles, underpinned by an evocative soundtrack. From crackling bleeps, to old time lullabies and the delicate tinkling of a glockenspiel as a pathetic little mermaid creature made from pearly buttons meets its death, it is an integral part of creating the atmosphere.
Hilum by Gemma Smith.
Hilum by Abigail Daker.
Towards the denouement things take a more surreal turn still, with the washing machine upending itself in a frenzy to reveal a furry trapdoor which after a bit more shaking gives birth to a baby washing machine, covered in a placenta like ooze. A real man appears with a loud toy gun, a large humanoid skull spins grinning inside the washing machine. A huge chicken creature strides on stage as a snapping oversized finger clatters around.
Les Antliaclastes by Gareth A Hopkins.
As the shutters closed on this bizarre otherworld I felt oddly bemused. Hilum by Les Antliaclastes is a beautifully conceived project but with no real outcome, other than the guarantee of some very odd dreams, for adults and children alike.
But as we admired the stage shutters on our way out I felt very glad that creative endeavours such as this are staged during events like the London International Mime Festival. We are lucky indeed to live in this place and in these times, where creativity can be expressed in so many different and unique ways.
The wonderfully decorated stage shutters for Hilum at the ICA.
Hilum was put together by puppeteer Patrick Sims and runs until Wednesday 26th January 2011 at the ICA as part of the London International Mime Festival. You can read another good review of this show by Matt Trueman on Carousel of Fantasies. The Mime Festival continues until 30th January 2011 – see other events here.
Les Antliaclastes by Stephanie Thieullent.
Hilum opens with the ominous popping of corn, advice stealthily reaching a crescendo before the pan jerks off stage to reveal an oversized scullery into which emerges a gremlin fairy creature. It’s like a creepy abandoned nursery of the netherworld, with recognisable objects and sounds mutated into the stuff of children’s nightmares. Almost immediately I fear for the dreams of the young children seated in front of us.
An array of wonderful grotesque puppets tumble and play, their strings pulled by the humans that tower above them in creamy lace outfits that resemble nightgowns. Their faces are covered, crocheted protrusions dangling trunk-like as they bend forward over their proteges, interacting with and manipulating them at the same time.
Les Antliaclastes by Gareth A Hopkins.
But in this strange world full of curiously humanoid critters it is not the giant ogres that control the tale – such as there is one – but the rhythm of the washing machine cycles, underpinned by an evocative soundtrack. From crackling bleeps, to old time lullabies and the delicate tinkling of a glockenspiel (as a pathetic little mermaid creature made from pearly buttons meets its death) the music is an integral part of the atmosphere.
Hilum by Gemma Smith.
Hilum by Abigail Daker.
Towards the denouement things take a more surreal turn still, with the washing machine upending itself in a frenzy to reveal a furry trapdoor which after a bit more shaking gives birth to a baby washing machine, covered in a placenta like ooze. A real man appears with a loud toy gun, a large humanoid skull spins grinning inside the washing machine. A huge chicken creature strides on stage as a snapping oversized finger clatters around.
Les Antliaclastes by Gareth A Hopkins.
As the shutters closed on this bizarre otherworld I felt oddly bemused. Hilum by Les Antliaclastes is a beautifully conceived project but with no real outcome, other than the guarantee of some very odd dreams, for adults and children alike.
But as we admired the stage shutters on our way out I felt very glad that creative endeavours such as this are staged during events like the London International Mime Festival. We are lucky indeed to live in this place and in these times, where creativity can be expressed in so many different and unique ways.
The wonderfully decorated stage shutters for Hilum at the ICA.
Hilum was put together by puppeteer Patrick Sims and runs until Wednesday 26th January 2011 at the ICA as part of the London International Mime Festival. You can read another good review of this show by Matt Trueman on Carousel of Fantasies. The Mime Festival continues until 30th January 2011 – see other events here.
Les Antliaclastes by Stephanie Thieullent.
Hilum opens with the ominous popping of corn, visit this site stealthily reaching a crescendo before the pan jerks off stage to reveal an oversized scullery into which emerges a gremlin fairy creature. It’s like a creepy abandoned nursery of the netherworld, with recognisable objects and sounds mutated into the stuff of children’s nightmares. Almost immediately I fear for the dreams of the young children seated in front of us.
An array of wonderful grotesque puppets tumble and play, their strings pulled by the humans that tower above them in creamy lace outfits that resemble nightgowns. Their faces are covered, crocheted protrusions dangling trunk-like as they bend forward over their proteges, interacting with and manipulating them at the same time.
Les Antliaclastes by Gareth A Hopkins.
But in this strange world full of curiously humanoid critters it is not the giant ogres that control the tale – such as there is one – but the rhythm of the washing machine cycles, underpinned by an evocative soundtrack. From crackling bleeps, to old time lullabies and the delicate tinkling of a glockenspiel (as a pathetic little mermaid creature made from pearly buttons meets its death) the music is an integral part of the atmosphere.
Hilum by Gemma Smith.
Hilum by Abigail Daker.
Towards the denouement things take a more surreal turn still, with the washing machine upending itself in a frenzy to reveal a furry trapdoor which gives birth to a baby washing machine covered in a placenta like ooze. A real man appears with a loud toy gun, a large humanoid skull spins grinning inside the washing machine. A huge chicken creature strides on stage as a snapping oversized finger clatters crazily agains the walls.
Les Antliaclastes by Gareth A Hopkins.
As the shutters close on this bizarre otherworld I feel oddly bemused. Hilum by Les Antliaclastes is a beautifully conceived project but with no real outcome, other than the guarantee of some very odd dreams, for adults and children alike.
Nevertheless, as we admire the stage shutters on our way out I feel very glad that creative endeavours such as Hilum are staged during events like the London International Mime Festival. We are lucky indeed to live in this place and in these times, where creativity can be expressed in so many different and unique ways.
The wonderfully decorated stage shutters for Hilum at the ICA.
Hilum was put together by puppeteer Patrick Sims and runs until Wednesday 26th January 2011 at the ICA as part of the London International Mime Festival. You can read another good review of this show by Matt Trueman on Carousel of Fantasies. The Mime Festival continues until 30th January 2011 – find out about other events here.
Les Antliaclastes by Stephanie Thieullent.
Hilum opens with the ominous popping of corn, order stealthily reaching a crescendo before the pan jerks off stage to reveal an oversized scullery into which emerges a gremlin fairy creature. It’s like a creepy abandoned nursery of the netherworld, site with recognisable objects and sounds mutated into the stuff of children’s nightmares. Almost immediately I fear for the dreams of the young children seated in front of us.
An array of wonderful grotesque puppets tumble and play, ambulance their strings pulled by the humans that tower above them in creamy lace outfits that resemble nightgowns. Their faces are covered, crocheted protrusions dangling trunk-like as they bend forward over their proteges, interacting with and manipulating them at the same time.
Les Antliaclastes by Gareth A Hopkins.
But in this strange world full of curiously humanoid critters it is not the giant ogres that control the tale – such as there is one – but the rhythm of the washing machine cycles, underpinned by an evocative soundtrack. From crackling bleeps, to old time lullabies and the delicate tinkling of a glockenspiel (as a pathetic little mermaid creature made from pearly buttons meets its death) the music is an integral part of the atmosphere.
Hilum by Gemma Smith.
Hilum by Abigail Daker.
Towards the denouement things take a more surreal turn still, with the washing machine upending itself in a frenzy to reveal a furry trapdoor which gives birth to a baby washing machine covered in a placenta like ooze. A real man appears with a loud toy gun, a large humanoid skull spins grinning inside the washing machine. A huge chicken creature strides on stage as a snapping oversized finger clatters crazily agains the walls.
Les Antliaclastes by Gareth A Hopkins.
As the shutters close on this bizarre otherworld I feel oddly bemused. Hilum by Les Antliaclastes is a beautifully conceived project but with no real outcome, other than the guarantee of some very odd dreams, for adults and children alike.
Nevertheless, as we admire the stage shutters on our way out I feel very glad that creative endeavours such as Hilum are staged during events like the London International Mime Festival. We are lucky indeed to live in this place and in these times, where creativity can be expressed in so many different and unique ways.
The wonderfully decorated stage shutters for Hilum at the ICA.
Hilum was put together by puppeteer Patrick Sims and runs until Wednesday 26th January 2011 at the ICA as part of the London International Mime Festival. You can read another good review of this show by Matt Trueman on Carousel of Fantasies. The Mime Festival continues until 30th January 2011 – find out about other events here.
Austra by Anko
It may have been a typically miserable Monday night in January, viagra 60mg but we were safe from the elements within the hallowed hall that is the Windmill in Brixton. This unassuming little pub just off the busy thoroughfare of Brixton Hill (and in the shadow of a real windmill, pilule the only one remaining in London), has seen many upcoming bands and surprise appearances from old faces grace its stage over the years. My favourite music venue in London (and my second gig there in 48 hours), I’ve had a lot of nights at the Windmill that have been great (including my second New Year’s Eve in London), hazy (ditto) and just plain bizarre.
Elena Tonra by Ellie Sutton.
The evening began with some haunting acoustica from Daughter, aka Elena Tonra. Plucking at an acoustic guitar, and backed by some subtle electric guitar washes, Tonra’s hushed vocals delivered some daintily dark lyrics that drew the onlookers in. As the Windmill began to fill up, Viv Albertine took to the stage with her new band, Limerence. Once the guitarist and co-songwriter with iconic punk band The Slits, Albertine had been off the music scene for over 20 years after pursuing a career in TV and film directing, but she recently made a return to the stage (indeed, her debut was here at the Windmill) and has gone on to release an EP on the label of Sonic Youth’s very own Thurston Moore.
Viv Albertine by Karina Yarv.
“Limerence” was a term coined to describe a near-obsessive form of romantic love, though Albertine joked that her songs were generally about pretty much the opposite. Limerence the band is a loose collective of musicians – I’d seen them play at the George Tavern in Stepney last year with pretty much a full compliment, but tonight it was just a pairing of violin and a combo of keyboard, guitar and ukulele. Musically, Albertine has moved on from the reggae infused sound of her old band, though her guitar is still as distinctive as it was on songs like Typical Girls. If anything, there’s a hint of Syd Barrett about songs like Fairytale and the twisted pop of Never Come, and the lyrics are as witty and spiky as you’d expect. Void references a darker part of her punk past, and was introduced with a few reminiscences of 1976. The paired down line-up actually gave an extra edge to Albertine’s songs, highlighted on the unsettling set closer, Confessions Of A Milf, which descended into a one-chord riff on suburban paranoia.
Canadian headliners Austra have been causing a bit of a buzz of late. Hailing from Toronto, and centred on vocalist Katie Stelmanis, with Maya Postepski on programming and Dorian Wolf on bass, they recently renamed themselves (having previously been going under Stelmanis’ moniker), signed to Domino and currently have a 12” single out, with an album in the pipeline for later this year.
Austra gig at The Windmill by Laura Godfrey.
For the UK leg of a whistle-stop European tour, starting tonight, Stelmanis and co were joined by a drummer, keyboard player and two extra vocalists. There was a bit of a shaky start with a technical hitch before things got into their stride. It would be easy to make comparisons with Fever Ray and Glasser (especially as I’d seen both live fairly recently), and Austra do fall into that category of brooding female vocals over dark electronic beats. However, they’re not as dense as Fever Ray or as spectral as Glasser, especially live. I’d read somewhere that Austra were like “Fever Ray gone disco”, which actually isn’t a million miles off the mark. The single, Beat & the Pulse, is distinctly dance-friendly, and while Stelmanis’ vocal delivery may be reminiscent of Karin Dreijer Andersson, the general vibe is more akin to the early to mid 80’s indie-dance crossover. In the confined space of the Windmill, Austra’s songs become much more organic, with the live drums and bass giving an added kick. There was also plenty of theatricality, with Stelmanis and her sidekicks whirling and dipping during each song.
It was a typically great and varied mix of bands and styles tonight, another in a long line of great nights that I’ve experienced at the Windmill, and another one I’m sure that the venue’s legendary Roof Dog would approve of.
Joanna Cave S/S 2011 by Naomi Law.
Jewellery designer Joanna Cave makes delicate pieces for the self confident and elegant woman. She met PARTIMI designer Eleanor Dorrien-Smith at London Fashion Week and the pair clicked instantly. For S/S 2011 they have collaborated on a special collection.
Has your Greek upbringing influenced your designs?
I believe that our surroundings influence us a great deal and my Greek upbringing has definitely played its part. My latest collection was purely influenced by the surroundings where I designed it on the Greek island of Tinos, salve so amongst my inspiration was the beautiful Cycladic landscape and deep starry nights.
Why you currently based in Athens?
I studied in London but after many years I felt I needed a change, drug and Athens seemed like a pretty exotic destination after a cold and cloudy summer in the UK. It can be difficult since I’m part English and absolutely love London, viagra approved but Athens has a great tradition in jewellery and it is full of charming little workshops that have been operating for generations. It all kind of fell into place.
Have you always been ethical in your approach to design or did you have an epiphany, and if so what prompted that?
I’ve almost always used recycled silver. One year I used coral for my collection which is terribly bad – as soon as I found out how endangered coral is and how much damage is caused by extracting it, I completely banned it from my production. That prompted me to find out more about where my materials come from, and I started to look for ethically sourced pearls…
Read the rest of this interview with Joanna Cave in Amelia’s Compendium of Fashion Illustration, alongside interviews with 44 other ethical fashion designers and 30 fabulous fashion illustrators. You can buy the book here.
Categories ,ACOFI, ,Amelia’s Compendium of Fashion Illustration, ,Athens, ,Coral, ,Eco fashion, ,Eleanor Dorrien-Smith, ,Ethical Fashion, ,Greece, ,Greek, ,jewellery, ,Joanna Cave, ,London Fashion Week, ,Naomi Law, ,Partimi, ,Pearls, ,Tinos
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