D’Angelo in Paris. Last minute tickets, worth every penny.

D’Angelo played in Paris tonight. Secured a last-minute ticket an hour before the gig! God damn it, he laid the funk down so thick I actually cried a bit. I haven’t been to a concert this good in a very long time. He was James Brown, Prince and Tina Turner, he was Marvin Gaye and above all he was himself. Really witnessed the definition of a selfless performer tonight.

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Vincent

A murmuration of starlings – Harderwijk, Holland.

An unkindness of ravens, a gang of turkeys, a parliament of owls and a shiver of sharks. An intrusion of cockroaches, A smack of jellyfish, a business of ferrets and…  a murmuration of starlings. This is by far the most birds I’ve seen in the sky at one time. The picture sort of does it justice in terms of density, but not time or area. The sky was almost black for minutes as they flew overhead. I had to run under a shop awning because there was so much bird shit falling to the ground, like the start of a summer storm where there are those really thick droplets hitting the ground that you can actually hear on the concrete. If you click on the photo you can really see the density of the birds.

A murmuration of starlings over Harderwijk, Holland. click to enlarge.

I’m now in Paris. I have a few days to myself with nothing specific to do before we restart the french tour so I’m going to go to some galleries and get some culture all up in me. Maybe see a show, work on my French, walk along the Seine and go to a fromagerie.

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Vincent

 

 

Venice In Monochrome and 2:1.

We got into Venice after dark, and left just after midday the following day. With two days to travel just over a thousand K’s from Zagreb, Croatia to Montbrison, France, Venice was jumping off the map at us as a place to stop overnight. So that’s what happened: with a van full of circus gear and a hotel reservation, we made our way to Venice. Beautiful. I bought a very expensive pair of cashmere-lined leather gloves and ate pizza for every meal. Both were very good choices.

Click the photos to enlarge and enjoy.

The 2:1 format I chose for these photos reflected the wide-angle lens I shot some of them with, but also the horizontal orientation of the vistas of Venice. There seemed to be dead space in every frame, so why not crop it out?

Vince

John Britton and Emma Serjeant: Jerk rehearsals in Liverpool.

These photos are much more of John than Emma. I’m currently sifting through a thousand or so photos from the past month and getting some semblance of order so I’ll have photo sets up of Liverpool, London, Brighton, Paris, Istres, and a few other places. Well, that’s the plan. I have a few evenings off here and there at the moment, but I’m more interested in cooking (finally have an apartment with a kitchenette, fresh vegetables on the stove etc) or walking around new places. Paris now, for a few more days, then on the road again. Croatia soon.

 

Homeward Bound In Gothenburg, Sweden.

Sometimes taking photos of people on the street is hard. It’s too much trouble, I’m projecting the wrong energy, I feel like I’m in people’s faces in a bad way. When someone asks you to delete a photo or not take a photo, you have to oblige. A smile and a nod goes a very long way to calming people if they feel intruded upon, and the only thing you can do is be accommodating to their feelings. Public spaces are by nature public, but they can also be very intimate and personal places for the people in them. The relationship between a public space and it’s inhabitants fascinates me. The way people choose to interact with each other (or not) is exemplified on public transport, where people are forced to cohabitate with strangers for a set duration of time, sometimes with their bodies at a set distance from each other, in a predetermined location. This photo set was taken over an hour near the Central Station in Gothenburg, Sweden, and they are mostly about people going home or going out. Friends and strangers, together and alone, in any they combination with which they are comfortable.

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Vince.

Autumn Sun In Falun, Sweden.

Reflections off a canal in Falun, Sweden.

Postcard photographs are so easy in Sweden. Everything’s just… nice. It’s rarely windy, there are large bodies of water everywhere with meadows, forest and sun, canals through the towns and villages, and for a lot of the day there is a soft flattering light. This is about as harsh as the light gets, and it’s manageable. A photo like this says very little, it’s just scenery and context for the stories and memories that take place. Just like a postcard, I guess.

We’ve been in Sweden for a few weeks, with a couple of weeks more to go. Small theatres, small towns and lovely people. Training in the park in the autumn sun and shows in the evening, then it’s restaurant, hotel, wake up, get on the bus, do it all again. Days off are spent exploring, training or relaxing.

Vince.

Stockholm On The Last Night Of Summer. Casus Is In Sweden!

The Casus Sweden Tour begins!

The days are getting shorter and colder, so people take advantage of the fading summer with comfortable outdoor dining and bike rides. I wonder if they ride their bikes in winter. The old city, Gamla Stan, with it’s cobbled alleys and all the other trimmings of Old Europe, trades off with the immigrant culture and the new money to produce something with layers. Like an onion. Or parfait.

 

The Picturesque Collection – 2 Months Of Australian Touring.

The Australian tour with ThisSideUp Acrobatics is almost over! I’m in a hotel room overlooking the Brisbane River, sorting through the photos from 10 weeks of travelling and performing. 3 shows to go, then we’re done. I’m starting with a collection of the more pretty, picturesque photos. Photos that, I guess, could be postcards or big prints in hotel rooms or just things that are classical and esthetically pleasing. Australia is a bloody amazing place, I have seen things that I didn’t know were out there. Melbourne is such a non-Australian experience, in my opinion. You get caught up in this bubble. the weather’s cold most of the time, you prioritise good coffee and food over the outdoors, Aboriginal culture and people are nowhere near as overt as the northern or central areas of the country… It’s an entirely different thing. I was born in Melbourne, I love it, but after being on the road for 10 weeks and literally circling the entire country, it’ll feel a bit strange to go back to Melbourne and keep looking at it as an identifiable part of Australia.

Have a look at my photos.

Josephine Falls, Queensland.

Josephine Falls, Queensland.

Ormiston Gorge, Northern Territory.

Ormiston Gorge, Northern Territory.

Stars in Alice Springs.

Campfire.

Sunset in Northern Territory.

Flying to somewhere else.

Broome, Western Australia.

Broome, Western Australia.

Eco Beach, Western Australia.

Eco Beach, Western Australia.

Shell Bay, Western Australia.

Esperence, Western Australia.

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Shell Beach, Western Australia. The Australian Tour Continues!

 

A couple of days ago, as we drove from Geraldton to Carnarvon in the central coast of Western Australia, the idea of visiting Shark Bay appeared to push itself onto us. The signs appeared, then the conversation started. Slowly at first. “Don’t we have tomorrow morning off work?” was followed by “It’s only a few hours out of the way…”. It seems the decision made itself.

 

 

As we drove from Geraldton to Carnarvon in the central coast of Western Australia, the idea of visiting Shark Bay appeared to push itself onto us. The signs appeared, then the conversation started. Slowly, at first. “Don’t we have tomorrow morning off work?” was followed by “It’s only a few hours out of the way…”. It seems the decision made itself. We turned off the highway with the eventual goal of getting to Monkey Mia, a famous beach where you can feed wild dolphins at dawn. On the way to Monkey Mia was a beach which we didn’t expect and hadn’t heard of: Shell Beach.

 

 

The name really says it all. More than a hundred kilometres of tiny cockle shells, over ten metres deep, form an amazing super-salinated beach that is completely unique. With no natural predators due to it’s tolerance of the salty water, the cockle shell thrives in numbers which are unreplicated elsewhere in the world.

 

 

 

Crystal clear water, fish throwing themselves at your feet and just the perfect amount of warmth and sunshine.

 

That afternoon we ended up at Monkey Mia, where dolphins were fed and other things happened. But for now let’s just focus on the shells. We’re in Port Headland now, and it’s basically a big fucking hole in the ground surrounded by men in high-vis clothing all yelling about coal or iron or something, I don’t know. Kind of like some ground-level version of the trading floor of Wall Street. It’s all completely unintelligible anyway because of the flies buzzing around my ears and the constant barrage of trucks heading down the highway behind the 70’s motel we’re holed up in. GOD, I LOVE REGIONAL TOURING! Even in a place like this there seems to be some sort of magic. How the hell that happens, I don’t know. It’s just like watching a cartoon or something I guess. Anyway, let’s end it here.

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Vince.

Fright Or Flight at Adelaide Fringe Festival, or Why I Live My Life The Way I Do.

It’s been almost 3 weeks since my last post! Apologies for the absence. I’ve been busy, you know. Papillon, a show I’m part of at the moment, is currently touring and that means I’m away from home as usual, pretty broke due to circumstances unforeseen and without stable and reliable internet. But I’m determined to get back on the blogging wagon, so here I am. I’m currently in Adelaide, Australia. The Fringe Festival here at this time of year is one of the bigger ones in the world, and many famous and amazing shows come to town to try new things or break into the market. I’ve been taking some snaps for friends’ shows, and I thought the simplest way to get back into this blogging thing would be to post some photos of the shows I’ve seen.

Bianca Mackail throws some feathers around. (c) 2014 all rights reserved

Fright Or Flight by 3 is a Crowd immediately had me questioning why I don’t make more artistic work. It’s basically a study of birds in a circus-theatre format. From attempting to lay eggs and feeding each other and themselves, to the uncontrollable noises and mating and dominance rituals, the avian kingdom is perpetually trapped by their animal urges. The circus acts were tactfully placed into the show, a rarity in a show with such a strong grounding in characters based on something non-human. No dialogue, just the occasional cackle and squawk. I feel like symbolism and deeper meaning is up to the viewer’s discretion. Relate it to life and death, draw parallels to our our own animalistic urges or some other esoteric facet of existence as humans, it’s up to you to decide.

Rockie Stone in a mock-burlesque introduction to a corde lisse act. (c) 2014 all rights reserved.

I’m sure I would have enjoyed it even more in a theatre. I felt the venue didn’t quite suit the show, as the silence and intimacy was sometimes swallowed up or dissipated by the large circus tent the show was in. This seems to be turning into a review of some sort. Okay, let’s stop this and start rambling, I feel I need it. So basically when I see work like this from good performers, well thought-out and well executed, it makes me want to be more of an artist and less of an entertainer. However when I see someone entertain a crowd well, I sway towards the desire to be funny, to be captivating, to be more magnetic onstage. I think they’re both legitimate desires, and it’s so lovely to be inspired by so many varying artforms and performances. With this kind of show in particular however, I can’t help but get sucked in.

Casey Wood, regaining composure after being pummeled with balls thrown by the other cast members. (c) 2014 all rights reserved.

I appreciate shows with a certain care taken about them. Consistency, imagery, characters, relationships, status, a little narrative here and there, these types of things that I’m only just understanding… I guess I find joy in watching something well put-together, regardless of the genre. This show has been described as strange, and for a circus show it is. But not for a theatre show. It’s relatively normal for a theatre show. Well not normal, but just not out of the realm of acceptability. The circus world is seemingly full of acrobats who don’t understand theatre, clowns who don’t get acrobats, dancers who hate everything, theatre students who don’t understand circus, the list goes on. I’m taking a little poetic licence here, but I guess I’m trying to say that no matter what you do, there’ll be someone who doesn’t like it.

With a show like this, it’s understandable for an acrobat, someone who focuses their energy purely on physical skill, to be a little flummoxed by the antics of the cast. Resplendent in leotards and bright yellow rubber gloves on hand and foot, they roll around all over each other in a pool of light in silence for a number of minutes. So, that’s the start of the show. Art for art’s sake? just trying to be wild and wacky? Not at all. All you have to do is watch the damn thing as if you’re watching birds and suddenly the body language makes sense, the humour opens up to you, the animal kingdom is as alive onstage as a subtle and wonderful reflection of our own world.

Bianca Mackail and Casey Wood doing something potentially symbolic to something round. (c) 2014 all rights reserved.

I guess one thing’s for certain, nothing is universally loved. You just have to do what you love and love what you do (aren’t all the cliches true?) and things will be okay. Oh, and you also have to be good at what you do. What’s nice is that the love for the craft generally gives you the best shot at being good at it. This is an award winning show, and for good reason. Just like my show Papillon isn’t for everyone, nothing is for everyone. Except for chocolate.

Thanks for reading! Stop by again, like and share and do all the good things!

Vince 🙂