Empire of the Sun

Parklife, Adelaide, 5 Oct 2009

Empire of the Sun's approach to presentation certainly precedes them. Out-of-this-world press shots and music videos sprinkled with galaxies and glitter have characterised the band as something completely different. It came as no surprise, then, that this live show was adorned with a similar fantasia: dancers in a skin-tight silver one-piece, swordfish headdress and dancing that bordered on contortion. Frontman Luke Steele appeared on stage as though some otherworldly Emperor, commanding the exultation of those before him.

Empire's run of gigs at the Parklife festival - their first live shows - was long-awaited, but in the absence of Nick Littlemore, the show was missing half of the magic. As a one-man band, Steele managed to create a sound not far off the album, but it was clear that there were hints of lacklustre in this performance.

Fantastic visuals and numerous costume changes for Steele filled the camp expectation of EotS, but it is a crying shame that for a band with such growing popularity, the fans' thirst for live shows following a stellar album was only to be diminished.

Stelarc - Extra Ear

By Laura Day
(April 2007)


"Why should your ears be on the side of your head? Wouldn't it be more interesting if you could speak into your own ear, or hand your ear over to someone else to listen with?

This is the rationale behind British-based Australian Stelarc, and his most recent project, Extra Ear.

A canvas and cutting ground for scalpels, 'installing' a piece of permanent conceptual art under his left forearm is Stelarc’s idea of a good piece of work. If it shocks, contrives and creates anxiety - it’s a hit.

Stelarc, 57, is currently exhibiting his piece at FACT exhibition Sk-Interfaces. Freaky yes, and arguably one of the fewer installations with the “errr...?” factor. Grown from a prosthesis imbedded under his skin, the ear has developed its own blood supply and is effectively no longer separate from his arm. And if having an ear on the arm wasn’t enough, it will eventually contain a Bluetooth transmitter, so the ear will be internet enabled in wi-fi hotspots: "In other words, you'll be able to hear what my ear is listening to wherever I am."

But Stelarc's original intentions were even more bizarre, if you can believe it: "Initially it was modelled as an ear on the side of my face, and there are several reasons why it never happened. One was that anatomically it's not the safest location because it would be near were the facial nerves surface, and also it would be near the jawbone, so it wasn't a very smart place to position the ear. Also, surgeons would not assist me because there was a possibility of partial face paralysis."

Stelarc wound up as a conceptual artist at art school after he realised he was a bad painter. Feeling akin with visual arts, but unable to successfully put paintbrush to canvas in any artistic sense, he decided to compromise and become a body performance artist: "I guess I was always interested in how the body had evolved. I was always envious of dancers and gymnasts that use their body as a means of expression."

Dubbing his career of 30 years as "a failure", Stelarc has imagined and realised a series of conceptual projects, mostly all bordering on the inconceivable: "It's the realisation that everything you've done has never turned out the way you expected it. This is really an artistic career that has been a failure."

Just days following the installation of a larger exhibition at FACT, Sk-interfaces, he can only exhibit his extra ear by means of a conceptual statement on the wall of Gallery One, and a short film depicting his surgery.

"It's frustrating really. What I find interesting in this exhibition are the actual installations – the works of art that are physical, that are moving. I've only got documentation, but hopefully they will really question the idea of what it means to be a body, the future of it and how it functions."

Stomach sculptures, prosthetic heads and body suspension by 18 hooks are just three of Stelarc's back catalogue of experiences. Set on proving that the body is no longer one entity that regenerates itself throughout life, unguided until death, Stelarc disregards the body as "one individual agency" and embraces visionary possibilities that aren't really all that possible, yet.

The project was much to the dismay of friends, his previous partner left him because of his aspirations, and he's yet to show the ear to his mother. But Stelarc is certain he's made the right decision: "I'll never regret it, I don't think so. It's been a tough one to go through and persist with, but people thought there's a difference between having a third hand (a previous project) because you can take it off after the performance, but if you construct an ear on your arm, that's a permanent addition and it becomes part of your body - people are going to feel squeamish."

"It will all probably take a couple of years realistically. It's just something that I have to live with. This project has taken nine years so far, so I guess I can be a little bit more patient."

Art Review: Take me to the River

The River That Changed The World
Photography Exhibition - Colin McPherson
Albert Dock, Liverpool

5.12.2007

Stifle your yawns and open your eyes, as this week, Liverpool's art and culture agenda has turned hectic. Monday saw the Empire Theatre play host to the Royal Variety Show; the winner of the Turner prize was announced on Monday and with the Queen and Dennis Hopper hanging about, it was publicity paradise. But if strolling bears and scaffolding turns you off, take your keen art-eye a few units down from the Tate to a little photographic exhibition that stands neatly beside its subject, the river Mersey.

There will be no more Liverpool-centric exhibitions here. Photographer Colin McPherson has taken his raw Scottish nerve and translated it into a portfolio of images that document one of the most influential expanses of water in the world.

His only direction for the project was to simply photograph the river: "As a photographer you're just very inquisitive and get to know your local area very well. I think being new to the area and having a fresh eye gave a sense of being a bit of an explorer, discovering hidden bits of the river. I let the camera just lead me."

After living in Merseyside for four years, Colin has become familiar with Liverpool's vibe and its recurring stereotypical connotations with the dock, the Beatles, and the Liver birds: "I knew there were certain icons along the river to be photographed, so I was interested in approaching those in a way which were not so obvious. I wanted to show them in their environment, rather that focusing on the icons themselves. I wanted to take a step back and look at what surrounds them."

The exhibition is being held in conjunction with the launch of a new book, The River that Changed the World, which covers the historical aspects of the river's industrial and economical expanse. Not only focusing on Liverpool, but the whole of the North West, the book's contributors include the late Tony Wilson, Lord Heseltine and journalist David Wood.

Leading the exhibition is Kate Fox, 29, who works as a project manager for the Mersey Basin Campaign. The organisation carries out regeneration for the river: " We're based in Manchester and, particularly at our end people associate it with Liverpool and not the whole of the North West. We want to get people throughout the region to appreciate the river." In light of this, the exhibition is a travelling one, and after Liverpool, will move onto Ellesmere Port in February, Sale during Easter, Manchester Science and Industry Museum, until finally finishing in Stockport.

The nature of an anti-static exhibition will undoubtedly call upon a mass of opinions, feedback and memories of the river. Each installation will have an area for visitors to contribute all of the above. Colin finds this particularly rewarding: "I'm looking forward to seeing how it's received in Manchester and Stockport, with the bias towards this [Liverpool] end of the river."

So, with Kate making a promise of "something for everyone" in both the book and the photographs, you can take a look on Tuesday at the Runcorn Bridge with a difference, or of two pecking cranes on the West Float in Wallasey, and decide whether the Mersey really is the river that changed the world.

Review: The Chemical Brothers - Liverpool Music Week

Casting The Chemical Brothers for the final night of the biggest music celebration in Liverpool is nothing short of a genius idea. They’ve definitely got glint. But before they could get into their rendition of an audio-visual equivalent to narcotics, there was sturdy support from Simian Mobile Disco. SMD opened the night at the early-bird time of 7:30pm, yet managed to inject a twilight atmosphere throughout the huge pavilion in Aintree. Hunched over their bleep-making machines like mad scientists, two silhouettes that preceded the double-act to follow created a club atmosphere where the crowd could let go, go wild, and disco to musical insanities such as It’s the Beat, Hustler, and Sleep Deprivation.

And on walked the Brothers, that came to produce something not just chemical, but a reaction among their onlookers, starting a rave that echoed of the 90’s fascination gone by. Arriving like beings from the outer universe and presenting their spaceship, the duo opened with Galvanise. A torrent of arms rose to the pumping violin and heavy bass, packing together a great start to what was to be a two-and-a-half hour show.

Set up like one big party in the Tardis, the whole set was energetic and borderline scintillating. A crowd injected with a cocktail of ages, there were the glow-stick beaten teens showing their love for SMD; the mid-90’s veteran followers of the main act, and the rest were everyone that caught up sometime in-between.

The eerie intro of No Path to Follow added chill to the set and was morbidly reiterated by the visual of a devilish male miming to the lyrics of Do It Again. Using a backdrop catalogue of robots, ballet dancers, cowboys and clowns, the visual aspect was an important focus to the set.

Alternating between electric and chill-out, the set momentarily hit a spiritual peak during The Golden Path. The crowd found their musical Holy Grail as streams of golden light flared across them while Ed Simons lifted his arms in an embrace not too dissimilar from some divinity embracing his followers, while Wayne Coyne vocalised: “Please forgive me/ I never meant to hurt you”.

Nothing short of a religious experience, a moon landing or indeed, a scene from Human Traffic, the Chemical Brothers held their own. The gig provoked flashbacks to their own music video for Hey Boy, Hey Girl and the dancing skeletons; that of a gangly party of moving bones going wild with a beer. It was a fine brew of musicality, delirium and exquisite elation. And with a final bow from Chemical Tom and Chemical Ed, Liverpool Music Week had its curtain called.