The Graveyard Train gig review @ ANU Bar
The sharpened edges of the black, flat-brimmed Stetson hat glistened menacingly from the dark recesses of the bitterly cold, largely empty ANU Bar. Something important was going down, of that much I was certain. But what? Cowering as I was in a fit of shame and fright in the farthest, safest corner of this glorified university shed, closer inspection of the Stetson or, indeed, its owner, was proving impossible. The edges of the Stetson glistened with urgency but mercifully, perhaps, I could see little else. All the while the questions lingered, like memories of sweet love lost. Who was this demon? Why had it come? Or indeed, why had I? In the icy darkness little was being revealed and even less was making sense. Even in the gloom of this horrific bleak nothingness though I searched valiantly for clues, an eager young pro bono Wordsmith (though I hate U2) conquering his fears. I eyed the shadowy figure in a panicked grasp for clarity but I saw nothing, nothing at all. Perhaps it was for the best. The likely tell-tale stains of the bloody refuse of the prior slain remained hidden; submerged in darkness along with the violent history of its anonymous owner. I, along with the other frightened stragglers joining me in the dumbstruck audience, could do nothing but wait.
Mercifully, the sound signalling the beginning, as it were, of the end, came suddenly; a ukulele began to strum and a chain, heeding the call of its jauntily plucked Master, began to rattle alongside in a foreboding, unified rhythm. Above it all, the Stetson suddenly began a slow tilt towards the heavens above, the shadowy figure underneath seemingly positioning itself for some manner of stern address. It moved with slow and deliberate assurance, seeming confident of its authority among the few lost, desperate souls gathered in this funereal pit of visible breath and shivering trepidation. As the Stetson lifted, an untraceable light illuminated the form atop which it sat. I gasped deeply as the eyes appeared; piercing and alive, tinged with sadness. I was soon after clinging desperately to a stranger alongside as the face of a being weathered but composed, solemn but unbowed, loomed into view. It was the face of a story teller, a messenger: a Man who had seen it all. An immortal.
The call is out for bands and filmmakers in the 2011 Music Video Mash Up – a yearly competition that pairs up and coming musicians and directors across Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane. Following on from a huge inaugural year last year, The Music Video Mash Up filmmaking competition is back for 2011- and with the addition of Sydney and Melbourne to the competition, bigger and better than ever.
COMIC-ISH is a new online comic-boutique, which offers varied ‘comic-ish’ projects with loads of quirky characters and not-so-traditional serial comic strips and comic nibbles.
Fifty fist-sized teapots have met their fate at the skilled hands of a select group of established and emerging artists. With the fabulously diverse line-up consisting of painters, print makers, photographers, graphic designers, typographers, digital, textile, and street artists, there’s sure to be eye candy to satisfy any sweet tooth.
Australia’s cult art magazine announces The Empty Exhibition, a group show to celebrate the launch of the 20th Issue of Empty magazine.