DEF Day 1

Discussion panel at DEF U day 1.
Photo: Russell Grant 

Today sees the start of the second half of the Durban Electronic Festival and if you aren’t there yet then I suggest you put on some sneakers and get the fuck out of the house right now.

The first half of DEF has to be one of the most exciting things I have seen on the Durban electro circuit for a while.  Yesterday was the start of the annual Durban Electro Universities, a series of free demonstrations and talks from industry professionals. What I saw was a group of likeminded people coming together to share and talk about their experiences in the industry. For a person like myself who is starting out in the industry, the lessons I learned were invaluable and I am so excited for the next instalment.

Nick Matthews aka. DJ Invizabel
giving a demonstration at DEF U.
Photo: Russell Grant

The evening ended on a wonderfully high note with a DEF U after party where I got to see first hands some of the tricks I had learned. A highlight was watching The RA Project and DJ Invizable doing their thang onstage.

Today’s event takes place across the Origin complex, where the event will take place in three stages.  You can enjoy a street party stage, Block party, live art, Winston beer garden/sports bar with live visuals of (Sharks/Chelsea/Liverpool games) and a VIP stage area set in Origin's balcony area.

Impressionable youths and industry kids watching a demonstration at DEF U.
Photo: Russell Grant

So if you haven’t got up yet, please get your shit together and go, gates opened at 12pm already! Tickets are: R100 (computicket ) / R120 at the gate (street party only) general access.
http://online.computicket.com/web/event/def_street_party/763230629
Or  combo tickets R130 (Computicket) / R150 (at the door) Day street party and includes entrance to Origin after party : limited to 400 tickets)
http://online.computicket.com/web/event/def_combo/763231441
Or R300 VIP : covers FRIDAY + SATURDAY Day street party and Origin after party ) limited to 200 : Computicket only *
http://online.computicket.com/web/event/def_vip_access/763231487

The K-Bomb performing at DEF day 1.
Photo: Russell Grant

The lineup:
DEF 2 - STREET STAGE
12:00 - 13:00 - FUNKY G 
13:00 - 14:00 - DJ FEEL 
14:00 - 15:00 - RICHARD THE THIRD (CT)
15:00 - 16:00 - NIGHT VISION 
16:00 - 17:00 - PH FAT (CT)
17:00 - 18:00 - VERANDA PANDA 
18:00 - 19:00 - NISKERONE (CT)
19:00 - 20:00 - BLUNT B (AUS)
20:00 - 21:00- JAMIE SAINT (CT)

DEF 1 - ENGINE ROOM PARK STAGE
12:30 - 13:30 - ICARUS 
13:30 - 14:30 - REBEL CLEF 
14:30 - 15:30 - CHRISTIAN TIGER SCHOOL (CT)
15:30 - 16:30 - DYNASTY (JHB)
16:30 - 17:30 - Bhashkar 
17:30 - 18:30 - Amigo
18:30 - 19:30 - FUNKY B 
19:30 - 20:30 - BRENT CRUDE 
20:30 - 21:30 - MARK E MARK 


STAGE 3 - RED BULL TRUCK (WINSTON BEER GARDEN)
14:00 - 16:00 - RENAUD 5 
16:00 - 17:00 - TOUCH OF SOUL 
17:00 - 18:00 - DJ RANGS
18:00 - 19:00 - GATORWADE (GMT)

Durban Day 2013

I recall a little tiff I had with an East Coast Radio presenter over a previous article I wrote which painted the ECR organisation in a bad light. He mentioned that his team had a meeting after reading my post, but decided not to persue the matter because I had paid for my ticket. He felt that if I had paid then I must have wanted to go, and that was all that mattered. I pointed out that I had paid for my ticket, but that I would not do so again.

I went against my own feelings and attended another ECR event: Durban Day. I know there have been a lot of write-ups about the event and I know that this post is after the fact. So, instead of writing about my feelings, I will stick to the events of the day.

I arrived at the stadium to a huge crowd of what I was told was about 12000 people. I don't know the exact number or if this is correct, but what I saw was a sea of white faces and a few dots of colour. I had not read the rules which stated that although you were allowed to bring a picnic, beverages were prohibited. This is my own fault, and so I cannot complain that I had my sealed plastic bottle of water confiscated. My friends were allowed to take their glass bottles of alcohol onto the premises. Perhaps security had not seen the alcohol bottles among the Nicknacks. 

I paid R150 entrance to celebrate Durban, but listened to bands from outside the province instead - although Toya Delazy did mention she was from Berea. Perhaps next time we could paid some local artists to perform at a day which honours their city. 

The day ended late and I drove home feeling like I had waisted my time. I wish I had spent my R150 on a local gig instead, that would have honoured Durban.

And now I will say again that, unless things change, I don’t ever want to attend another ECR function again.

The Fruit-basket

I had an interesting weekend - spent it with wonderful friends, good food and a good wine. There were so many great conversations, but the one that stuck with me the most was a conversation I had with my good friend and neighbour. We were making tea and chatting when I announced that I had just bought a huge bag of dried fruit. This is significant to my life as I realised that I will save a heap of money this month because I won’t be buying so many small packets of dried fruit. One may even call it a minor triumph! I digress… The man, obviously sharing in my delight, asked if there were any ‘ears’. I handed him the packet from which he pulled out a dried pear. He held up his prize and pointed out the many ways in which it looked like an ear. I plucked a pear from the packet but instead of an ear all I saw was a vagina. I didn’t want to be ‘that’ girl so I just offered a feeble: “Well I guess if you hold it like this it looks like a pixie ear.” He took a moment to contemplate this and said: “Actually it looks like a vagina!” I was so relieved that I was not the only one who thought that. I said as much and carried on rummaging in the fruit packet. But he just carried on exploring his dried pear. “Look it even has that beaky thing.” He pointed to the part of the pear that looks like a clitoris. I just replied with: “hmmmmm”. But before I could add anything to that, my neighbour continued “I am not really sure what that thing is all about - I just generally ignore it!” I stopped drinking my tea and stared at him.

I share this anecdote with you not only because it is funny, but because I have been thinking about the pussay for a while now. No, not in that way. It’s my annual you see - every woman dreads that visit to the gynae – but we gotta do it I know most people don’t want to know about this stuff - but for the rest, let this be an education.

The test is pretty standard, and I know that the doctor has seen a million vaginas and she really doesn’t care, but you still want to look your best. I decided this year I was going to go all out and surprise the good doctor with some vajazzeling. This is the art of bejewelling ones V. Unfortunately I couldn’t find a salon that did it, so I opted for the old Hollywood wax instead. You know – give her a real good view. (A Hollywood is the art of removing every single hair from the pubic region. EVERY SINGLE ONE).

The Beautician asked me what the occasion was (she could see that I had not been there in a while), to which I responded: “I am going to see someone really important – someone that I haven’t seen in a while.” She asked me if I’ve ever tried ‘bleaching’ - which I hadn’t. “You simply must try it,” she said, “This is the new thing that everyone is doing.” I was convinced. The next thing I knew, I found myself on my hands and knees with the beautician painting bleach onto my actual ass hole! I don’t know what I expected when she said ‘bleaching’ – but it was not that!

Actually the whole ordeal was rather liberating and the bleach was rather soothing in a cold-ointment-on-anus kind of way. And once I left the beauty salon I could not wait to show the gynaecologist. I have a strict rule: Only sexy people are allowed to see/touch/feel my vagina. My gynae is the hottest doctor I have ever seen. She is always dressed is sexy evening attire, full make–up and jewellery. I don’t mind her around the bits. In fact, the worst part about the visit is sitting in the waiting room, because at my age people assume I am a pregnant teenager or that I have a venereal disease! 

There is a point to my mingy ramblings – I am not just a crazy feminist wanting to do another vagina monologue. I just want everybody to be aware that they have a V and, unlike my neighbour, I expect everyone to know exactly what it does so that you can use it properly and protect yourself from people who can’t. And even though it is a really uncomfortable visit, you should go see your doctor once a year. I guess that concludes my women’s month monologue. (Also get the breasts checked – because you are special.)

Imvula/ Hope at The SA Women's Arts Festival 2013

photo: Val Adamson

Whilst discussing art, a friend of mine said that the role of the artist was to feel - to feel so completely that they took on the burden of ‘feeling’ for the world. He said that art allowed people to see their own feelings through the eyes of the artist without having the pain of going there themselves. I came home from the opening of the SA Women’s Arts Festival last night feeling emotionally vulnerable. I made myself a cup of rooibos and honey (that is what my mom used to do for me) and popped a Bella Jo lasagne in the oven (that is the closest thing to a home-cooked meal I had) and sat down to write about my amazing night of dance.

I was privileged enough to watch Imvula/Hope which is part of the double dance bill featuring Flatfoot Dance Company's Hope and The Playhouse Dance Residency’s Imvula which was choreographed by the award winning Christopher Kindo.

The show began with a moving piece of choreography with music played live by Shannon Hope. For me this was one of the best Flatfoot pieces of recent years. I am such a huge fan of the company that anything they do is really remarkable. This piece showed a sensitive, more feminine side to the company that I haven’t seen in a while. Their work often leans towards a more serious persuasion but this piece was also a lot more playful, even interactive at times.

The second piece of dance was the first I had seen by this relatively new company. The dancers were so technically skilful, although their performance lacked a sincerity that I had seen in the first half. That was what I thought until I saw the second act which I am told was a tribute to a young dancer from the company who had died suddenly. Within the first few minutes I felt fragile and vulnerable. The piece showed an organic circle of life where the dancers evolved from crude forms into tribes of people. Indicative of the life that they had just lost, it showed a kind of organic fragility which was so human I could not help but get caught up in the beauty of the piece. I was in absolute tears by the end – I mean ugly tears, not the womanly sob one would find from a lady.

Needless to say – you need to get to see this amazing piece of art - the artists took me to that ‘feeling’ place. And if you’re not into that ‘feely’ stuff, then go anyway because it is lovely to go to the theatre and watch beautiful people dance.

The SA Women’s Festival runs from the 8^th till the 17^th August. The Imvula/ Hope double bill will be showing at The Drama Theatre, Playhouse on the 8^th; 10^th; and 11^th August at 3:30pm and 7:30pm. Tickets cost R 80 or R 35 for students. Contact Box Office at (031) 369 9596/9540 or Computicket at 083 915 8000

Durban International Film Festival 2013

At the Blue Waters Hotel, the DIFF headquarters.
Look at me all smug with my DIFF bag and media tag!

Ok fuck!  I have been moping around for a month now complaining that “I have writers block”,  blah blah.  Meanwhile I have spent July going to the most amazing functions and parties – what more inspiration does one need! I tell you – sometimes I could just slap myself. Naughty! So within the next few days I will try to catch you up on the last month.

Ok so the last thing on my agenda was the Durban International Film Fest (DIFF). This is always a highlight for me - remember last year with the strippers and the getting drunk – well there was none of that this year. I was the picture of a good journalist, which I had to be because the whole festival became a media spectacle.

I attended the opening night in the usual full regalia, my small purse however did not allow for a pen and pad – the usual tools of my trade. But I thought what the hell, it’s the same every year and all the major points will be sent to me in an e-mail. Friends, I have never been so wrong! The evening started out as it usually does with speeches before an opening movie. This year instead of the opening film, we saw a notice. The film and Publication board had chosen that morning to ban the movie ‘Of Good Report’ for its depiction of child pornography. I tell you, it took me a good few minutes to realise what just happened. What had happened was that I was ill prepared for this kind of twist in the plot and I spent the next hour typing a page one lead on my blackberry. So it is safe to say I learned many things that night and the most important was: “NEVER BE UNPREPARED”!

The opening party.

We could go back and forth on our thoughts on banning and artistic rights but this is not the forum (although you are welcome to read any of my articles on the subject). The opening night for me was an opportunity to do some real journalism and I learned so much. I was lucky enough to meet the Jahmil Qubeka, the director, and speak to him about his film at the after party. The after party, by the way, which I decided to attend after having to write a sudden page one lead ON MY BLACKBERRY! I tried to get drunk. I must say though that the after party lived up to its usual splendor. There was the nomadic tent on the lawn of Suncoast Casino, a Latino band, yummy food and plenty of free drinks – but alas I went home sober - probably because my nerves had been shot.

The festival was a bit of a disappointment for me. My favorite part of DIFF is spending my days watching wonderful films. There were endless problems with formats and film classifications. On one particular day I went to watch four movies, but could only see one because of the aforementioned problems. I had to watch ‘World War Z’ instead of one ‘Spring Breakers’ and straight afterwards I went in to watch ‘Zombie Land’ only for that to be replaced by ‘World War Z’. I was in no mood for that! “Ain’t nobody got time for that”, as Divine Brown would say.

At the Closing party.

Fresh pizza at the Closing party.

The closing of DIFF was a wonderful day. I had been given some VIP tickets to Taste of Durban thanks to Vida e Caffee, which was held on the grounds of Suncoast. So I got to fill up on the most amazingly yummy foods and Champaign and wines and chocolates and snacks before heading into the movie theatre. I met my friend and colleague there, which turned out to be lucky for me because DIFF announced the unbanning of ‘Of Good Report’, so I would need to stay over to cover the film the following day. Once again I was unprepared, this time because of my lack of a change of clothes and a toothbrush.

The award speeches were rather long and unprepared but the evening ended wonderfully with a party at The Blue Waters Hotel. We spent the night eating handmade pizzas, listening to music and enjoying good conversation.

The Good Food and Wine show.

I was up early the following morning to watch an amazing film by Qubeka. I got to put DIFF to bed with an amazing sense of accomplishment having learned so many life lessons (I now keep a spare toothbrush in my car).

With director Jahmil Qubeka before the opening of his film 'Of Good Report'. Can you tell I haven't slept?

There are just a few points I want to make – mostly because I am a bitch. If DIFF had put their selected movies through to the Film and Publications Board to be reviewed earlier, then the banning and unbanning debacle could all have happened before the festival took place. Although we would have record of it going through this process, we would not have had the drama of the opening night. The fiasco did encourage a lot of conversation about banning laws in South Africa, and I know that the performance by the director was preplanned (the taping of the mouth and ripping up of the ID book –which was actually his wife’s temp passport). I wonder perhaps if DIFF has changed from its original purpose of showcasing art, to becoming a public mouthpiece. Not that I object to that at all. I would perhaps like a little warning because I went to DIFF to celebrate art, not to discuss my right to celebrate art. But what the banning did do was make the festival world – renowned and give a young director a wonderful platform for his next big creation – and well deserved I’d say.

My review as it appeared in The Witness Newspaper.

Feeling the love

After weeks (OK months) of writers block, I had an inspired thought: Writing is a medium for which I can share myself with the world, perhaps the reason I cannot write is that I feel disconnected.

I know that this is a self indulgent thought, but it gives the only reason for my absent words.

I have always felt like an outsider - But I have also thrived on the outskirts. The kind words of others seldom soothe the hurt of isolation, but isolation comes from me.  It is such a funny thing to be loved but to not feel the love.

The kindness has not gone unnoticed and I will repay it with words – soon. 

Top Gear Festival 2013

A thousand apologies for I have been dealing with incredible writers block and haven't written in so long. Also a word of caution, it seems that my new writing voice is incredibly self indulgent - you have been warned! Also all images and videos are courtesy of Yashen Moodley. 

Yup

Does anyone else remember last year’s Top Gear Festival? I do. I remember lots of guidos fighting; I remember plastic cups of black label, the smell of petrol fumes and dust so thick it made a line on my teeth where they stick out from beneath my goofy smile. I said to myself: “Not this time girl – you have come too far to be picking miggies out of your mouth.”  So this year I went as a guest of Shell. Oh friends what a delight it is to experience the VIP hospitality that is Shell at Top Gear. Let me count the ways ...

Because walking is so Top Gear 2012.

My colleagues and I got escorted to the media centre at the Moses Mabhida stadium. This is critical information because what I am saying is that we did not have to queue – I hate a queue. We got our media passes and from there the world of Top Gear was ours. All access, free food ... the only problem is that once you get a taste of VIP – Oh friends you cannot enjoy Top Gear without it.

We made our first stop at the Shell stand where I got to sit in an F1 car simulator as well as change an F1 racing car tyre. I was told that it takes the pros 5seconds to change the tyres and refuel an F1 car. It took me around 14 seconds to just pick up the heavy drill. I was the model for the day so I got to do some fun things of the girl’s - day - out - at - Top Gear variety. I think it was pretty amusing for my colleagues because I can barely drive. I was shown some sort of special car that had travelled Siberia and was told by Shell to point to the oil thingy for a picture. So embarrassing, I don’t even know where one places their car oil. The man had to show me, eventually placing his hands on the oil thingy because I don’t understand where “next to the engine” is!

Is it there?

They had the sexiest Greek men working for them; I guess it is the equivalent of eye-candy for bitches. Unfortunately for me these men where all business –there was no time for silly girls who don’t know car things. I had to do a small video and pretend that I had raced a circuit and they acted like it was their worst day ever. The video below is an example for you taken just before we made the official video. Look how angry this man looks, and look at me trying so hard – bless. Back in my youth the men used to check out my rack, now he looks like he is having the worst day of his life (I learned later that he was in fact dating the other sexy Greek man)

After that humiliation, Yashen, my wonderful colleague, and I went and hung out in some VIP car place. I don’t know cars, but I do love a shiny new beast of a machine and I have a weakness for Audi’s. So whilst Yashen gushed over something called a Bumblebee and something else with numbers and Z’s in it, I sat sipping my champagne staring at my Audi.  There is something wonderful about lounging on a chaise sipping Champaign and eating strawberries whilst the general public looks on from behind the velvet ropes and bouncers – and there was a pianist!

Sorry dahling ...

Ok, so I am milking this VIP thing and you are probably puking by now, so let me move on. We got escorted to the Shell hospitality suite in the stadium where we were greeted with a table full of beers. Yashen and I caught up with our Motoring Editor at the bar. He was on his fourth cider. We were called a bunch of pussies for not being drunk. “When I was a cub reporter we would be laying in a pool of our own vomit before this thing even started. Free drinks – you are a disgrace”. Well forgive me but I thought this was a work outing ... However, so as not to disappoint anyone I ordered a nice glass of merlot and headed into the VIP suite. Ladies and gentlemen – how will I ever enjoy the stadium again? Those suites have the best view, there was a private bar, and there was Lasagne for Christ sakes! It was as if Top Gear had just said “Crumbles - let’s make this girl happy”, and so they did.

The show was cool, there were cars, and babes and jokes about Oscar Pistorious (perhaps too soon). I was happy because I had done some really fun things and all it cost me was 200 words.

Can I have this one?