I would love so much to get to see this. The premiere, which is this Friday, is completely sold out. Still, it is running till the 5th of may.
From The Glue Factory website:
Burrowing through that dark vein of German Expressionism and Soviet propaganda films, 85A Collective, in association with the Glue Factory, are proud to present their first self-produced film: ‘Chernozem’ (Black Earth).
Launching as a fringe event to G.I. 2012, the film has been expanded into a ‘total cinema’ experience- a hair raising Gesamtkunstwerk entitled: ‘CHERNOZEM:KINO!’
Quite literally taken on a surreptitious ride through a series of multi-sensory scenes from the film within a large-scale post-industrial environment, the awe-struck audience can expect mesmerizing mechanical kinetic sculptures, immersive set design, intense lighting + projection, pummeling live music, salvos of sound design and rapid-fire performance … with the terrified cinéaste ultimately ‘projected’ into the film itself!
“A desperate cog in a monstrous machine!!”
CHUNG! CHUNG! CHUNG! CHUNG! CHUNG!! CHUNG…!!
There were so many tones and textures and ranges in this photograph that I just didn’t know which to bring out. I could of made it gritty, and lose the actual door, but I really didn’t want to. The original image, before I updated it at 11:37am felt neither here nor there. In the end I decided to layer up and fiddling with the opacity of the top layer in order to better represent the tonal range.
Many eons ago there was an underground goldfish bowl that many historians refer to as `Glasgow`.
The fish and their wives (commonly known as “fish wives” ) who dwelled in this urban landscape struggled to notice the huge simularities in each other.
Instead they would focus on marginal differences hoping to gain a mythical status of “Top Fish”
many historians belive this myth was popularised and perpetuated by Bea Smith in Prisoner Cell Block H who used the iron press more than the rest.
The fish used a method of chinese whispers barked at ludicrously sky high volumes usually under the influence of a poisonous liquid known as alcohol many of the fish were addicted to.
These stories made their way from house party to taxi driver within minutes .
read the rest ::HERE::
Write up of Irvine Welsh’s appearence at the Wheeler centre in Melbourne (that’s the Melbourne in Australia, not the ones in Canada, the united states, or england – seriously, there’s like nine of them!)
Light dances and refracts off the shiny bald dome of Irvine Welsh’s head. Some two hundred people perch on the edge of their uncomfortable seats as he shares a story. There’s laughter, there’s bits where nobody’s sure if they should laugh but then they do anyway, there’s plenty of “cunts” and “fuckers”. A four-year-old in the corner plays with the power-points, his mother not entirely fussed as she gets to hang out with Irvine Welsh. He reads as if he’s sharing an anecdote, shifting naturally from foot to foot, speeding up and slowing down perfectly; Irvine Welsh is a captivating reader, so much so that we forget that he’s reading at all.
Last night began with a reading of “A Fault In The Line,” from his latest book, Reheated Cabbage. The name for the collection comes from an old Italian saying which refers to relationships which split up, then get back together again: “it’s never a good idea”. Welsh thought this phrase an apt title for this collection, a reprinting of older work and previously published stories.
We all know the man, even if we don’t know the man. The man who wrote Trainspotting and The Acid House, author of cult novels Glue and Filth, life-lover and curiosity connoisseur.
Welsh himself attributes his immense fame to something he called “Scotchploitation” – “there was about five minutes in the 90’s,” he says, “where it was vogue to be Scottish.” Caught up in this, Trainspotting became a massive cult hit, and Welsh became an accidental expert on all matters “Scotland” and “drugs”.
There seems to be two sides to Irvine Welsh…
Continued over at Little Girl With a Big Pen.