Hey Neighbour! #2
From Conversations with Iannis Xenakis by Balint Andras Varga (London: Faber and Faber, 2003), pp. 129:
In my experience, when we fight, and win or are defeated, it’s more than a game. The loser thinks he’s weak, good for nothing. But that’s not true! It was only an episode.
I also wanted to see some shenanigans; unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, nothing of that sort happened. People were, on average, well-behaved. I reckon that roughly 70% to 80% of the people at the festival were below 30. Occasionally, you could hear obnoxiously loud people who were probably drunk, but they were the happy, not troublesome, kind of drunks. Because it was hot during the day, many dressed for the heat, assuming the weather would stay the same until the evening. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, as it got quite windy and cold. I wore my favorite black denim jacket and regretted not having brought a scarf. When the weather gets cold, my back aches terribly. Coupled with the gym session I had earlier that morning, walking became really tedious and unenjoyable. In other news, I need to start working on strengthening my lower back. You go to bed one night and wake up the next with aches in parts of your body you never knew you had. At first, I didn’t notice how festival attendees coped with the change in weather. Then it became apparent: I remember seeing a lady wrapping herself up in a Basotho blanket while others shivered as they walked past. At least they were shivering in style. Advice: If it’s an outdoor event that will end at 12 AM, please leave your home with a jacket. It’s better to be overdressed than underdressed. The universe doesn’t need your permission to alter its mood. People were so interestingly dressed. I did judge some — After all, I am human. I hope someone had the idea of taking photos of people and what they wore at the festival to create a street or festival photography book. I don’t think there are street photographers in South Africa who take the craft as seriously as Scott Schuman of The Sartorialist. Young South Africans have a lot of style. I think this is also true for most African countries as well. There seems to be a great opportunity in the space for anyone willing to explore it. Of course, I’d love to do that, but since I am not an octopus with a zillion hands, I’ll stick to the few things I’m good at. 🪔
Concert photographers often focus so much on the performers that they forget the audience is just as important; without the audience, the performer is nothing. So please dear concert photographers, take photos of what people wore, what they did and blah. There should also be more sociological research into concerts and festivals. It often feels like those in those fields don’t think that concerts are worthy of study. I took note of how well some of the musicians performed and tried to gauge the audience’s response and engagement. For instance, the audience really loved Blxckie. Rema dropped out of the lineup because he had been touring for years and needed time to re-energize. He’s had a solid four-year run and, in my opinion, can afford to take a break in this world of low attention spans. One moment you’re the toast of the ball; the next, your very fans might dump your arse in a landfill of forgotten stars. Anyway, there were three stages: one was in a tent, another was the main stage, and there was also a smaller second stage. I suppose the stage a musician performs on depends on their global or local popularity. The stage in the tent featured a female DJ playing Amapiano. We watched her perform for at least 45 minutes before we left to check out other things. On the festival grounds, many global brands, such as Netflix, Heineken, and Nedbank, had stands. We decided to visit the Netflix ‘pavilion’, which featured spaces or rooms dedicated to each of their most popular shows. Upon entering, you’d see LV bags and steamer trunks to your left, representing the show Young, Famous, and African. It’s interesting that they used a French luxury brand to depict what it means to be Young, Famous, & African, but that’s a story for another day. They had another room inspired by a show whose name I can’t recall as I write this; please, please, please, my memory is crap these days. I have sticky notes all over my home to compensate. Anyway, this one Netflix room we stepped into had BDSM vibes, with red lighting. 🥻
In the center was a bed, surrounded by various leather items on hooks. A mirror was fixed to the ceiling above the bed, allowing you to see your reflection if you lay on the bed, and on the wall, another mirror with words written in lipstick. In my mind, I thought, ‘This is an art installation in its own right’ It made me wonder: are there artists who work with lipstick or incorporate it into their work? Obviously, I don’t mean artists who simply wear it. So, right there and then, I challenged my subconscious to figure out how to incorporate lipsticks into my art practice. If you attend my art exhibition in the near future and see a piece that includes lipsticks, don’t assume it has any deep philosophical meanings. Some people might think it represents a stance against the patriarchy, or it’s about gender equality, but I can tell you for a fact that it’s not. It’s simply the result of a dude who saw something at a Netflix stand and wondered, ‘How can I use that in my art?’ It’s no deeper than that. If anything, it should show that inspiration can come from anywhere. While people might delve into the psychology of why that resonated with me, analyzing it isn’t really my cup of tea. You might say it sounds everyday or ordinary, but the role of an artist is to elevate the ordinary. My friend suggested that we take a photo on the bed, with our cameras pointed towards the ceiling mirror. It was a cool photo and from time to time I still take a look at it on my phone. Anyway, I am still musing on the lip stick idea. After our mini photo session we ventured into the courtyard where Netflix was offering free slushy and ice cream. I usually avoid eating at festivals because if something doesn’t agree with my stomach, I am not really keen on using a public toilet for number two. I have only used a public toilet one time for number two in my over 30 years of existence. Like I mentioned in my previous post, VIP passes don’t offer much. However, backstage passes, though difficult to obtain, can be delightful to have. 🐝
Ideally, I would like to ask musicians about their creative process and the challenges they face. But then again, considering that musicians are often exhausted from performing, it would be somewhat insensitive to ask them such demanding questions, regardless of how interesting the answers might be to me. Just doing the dishes exhausts me; now imagine performing for over an hour to thousands of people and then being asked a mentally taxing question. How musicians resist the urge to bitch slap a fan is mystifying to me. In my opinion, if you have a backstage pass and the musician seems approachable, it’s best to ask for a photo, briefly express how much their music means to you, and then keep it moving. I often wonder what people mean when they tell a musician they are their number one fan. What under heaven does that even mean? Are they being hyperbolic or literal? Musicians encounter all kinds of fans, from stalkers to those who insult them. My father, a former police officer, often told me that most people believe they are exceptional liars when stopped at a roadblock. They think their excuse, lie, or sob story is unique, not realizing they might be the tenth person that Friday night using the same story. For the person telling the lie, it seems fresh and convincing. However, to the police officer, it comes across as unoriginal and lacking effort. This, I believe, is similar to what musicians feel when someone claims to be their biggest fan. It’s probably akin to the reaction women have when a man approaches them with a commonplace compliment like ‘You’re beautiful.’ Duh! It’s nothing new to her; she’s heard it all her life. So, when you approach a celebrity, try to think of something genuine and meaningful to say. Regarding VIP passes, I believe they should at least guarantee safety from being groped or robbed. But then, shouldn’t all concert attendees expect that level of security? There will always be bad actors at concerts, who go there for other intentions (bad mostly) besides the music. I noticed multiple drones flying overhead, presumably for video recording and possibly surveillance. 🐳
As an event organiser, you want to be able to quickly identify a medical emergency, or instances where someone is being groped or robbed, and then ensure the perpetrator is removed or arrested, and possibly banned from attending concerts around the country for a number of months or years. I chuckled after I wrote the previous sentence because I realised how such measures, though intended for safety, if done at scale, could lead to a more controlled, police-like state. It usually begins by politicians saying something along the lines of, “we are introducing these measures to keep you safe.” Anyway, what should a VIP pass give you? I’d say, ease of entry and exit, food and water, uninterrupted view of the stage for me and my phone camera, a clean restroom that’s not too far away from the VIP section, Chinese hand fans or umbrellas in case it gets hot, and blankets if it does get cold. Oh, do add a cold beer or Amarula to enhance the experience. There will be a third instalment before the year ends. I was really hoping to wrap things up in this post, but as it often happens, the direction of my writing took its own course. [To be continued.] 🎎
Thanks for reading. If there's anything you'd like to chat about, or if you have any questions, feel free to shoot me an email. I'd love to hear from you. :) 🍿