About Me
- Clairvoyant
- Every week I will try something new: this can range from the mundane, to the sensational via the downright pointless, but it must be a totally new experience for me. All ideas are welcome, within reason.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Re: Just What I've Always Wanted
As requested, a photo of the offending article. If I ever wear it again, I will get a close-up.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Looney Tunes
The other week, for the first time ever: I saw Philippe Katerine.
After a seemingly disappointing bill for the Ardentes music festival this year, I still took some advantage of the perk of having a free four-day pass and managed to catch some suprisingly entertaining shows. Although Wu Tang Clan didn't live up to expectations, Limp Bizkit kicked some proverbial ass on the Friday night, but I was still left feeling a little cheated, as a younger generation than mine reaped the rewards of a 90s retro line-up (I was several years the wrong side of 30).
Sunday afternoon was definitely more my cup of tea. Agnes Obel's dulcet tones rang hauntingly through the venue accompanied by her ethereal piano chords, but not quite evoking the jovial festival atmosphere I had in mind. The unexpected highlight of the afternoon was Congolese street band Staff Benda Bilili whose funky breakbeats were received better than anything I have ever seen at the Ardentes (who would've thought that Belgians can do the conga?)
A few beers later, accompanied by some old friends, I managed to squeeze my way to just a few yards from the foot of the stage to await what promised to be the show to end all shows: Philippe Katerine - French singer/songwriter famous for his eccentricities. Following his 3 musicians, the man himself made a grand entrance wearing a flamboyant dressing gown and with four young female dancers in tow. The gown was soon discarded to reveal a rather splendidly feminine flowered strappy jump suit, a stark contrast to the grizzly man underneath.
Katerine was every bit the eccentric that I had been led to believe. Every track bore witness to his dadaist sense of humour; from the nonsensical "Bla Bla Bla", to the intentionally naff "La Banane". The fact that he is no Sinatra is of little relevance when he can ingenously create a melody and build a track around something as banal as the sound that accompanies the ever-too-familiar warning, "Windows Explorer has done an illegal operation and has to shut down".
The dancing girls were a joy to watch; choreographed to the hilt and cute in their brightly coloured football kits and knee-high socks.The audience whooped with delight when Katerine threw in the odd Liege colloquialism, mockingly chanting the word "oufti" which is the expletive of choice for my Liege compatriots. Bananas were thrown on stage, as is apparently the tradition at a Katerine gig, and there were regular cries of request for our hirsute friend to strip off and get naked.
For a moment, I thought he was only too happy to oblige - teasingly sliding down the odd strap, popping a button or provocatively lowering his waistband to groin level. Despite his far from buff physique and ludicrous attire, Katerine still exuded an inkling of sexual energy through his confidence and sheer audacity, even when he stood in front of the crowd in nothing but a pair of unflatteringly stretchy mock denim undercrackers.
After a seemingly disappointing bill for the Ardentes music festival this year, I still took some advantage of the perk of having a free four-day pass and managed to catch some suprisingly entertaining shows. Although Wu Tang Clan didn't live up to expectations, Limp Bizkit kicked some proverbial ass on the Friday night, but I was still left feeling a little cheated, as a younger generation than mine reaped the rewards of a 90s retro line-up (I was several years the wrong side of 30).
Sunday afternoon was definitely more my cup of tea. Agnes Obel's dulcet tones rang hauntingly through the venue accompanied by her ethereal piano chords, but not quite evoking the jovial festival atmosphere I had in mind. The unexpected highlight of the afternoon was Congolese street band Staff Benda Bilili whose funky breakbeats were received better than anything I have ever seen at the Ardentes (who would've thought that Belgians can do the conga?)
A few beers later, accompanied by some old friends, I managed to squeeze my way to just a few yards from the foot of the stage to await what promised to be the show to end all shows: Philippe Katerine - French singer/songwriter famous for his eccentricities. Following his 3 musicians, the man himself made a grand entrance wearing a flamboyant dressing gown and with four young female dancers in tow. The gown was soon discarded to reveal a rather splendidly feminine flowered strappy jump suit, a stark contrast to the grizzly man underneath.
Katerine was every bit the eccentric that I had been led to believe. Every track bore witness to his dadaist sense of humour; from the nonsensical "Bla Bla Bla", to the intentionally naff "La Banane". The fact that he is no Sinatra is of little relevance when he can ingenously create a melody and build a track around something as banal as the sound that accompanies the ever-too-familiar warning, "Windows Explorer has done an illegal operation and has to shut down".
For a moment, I thought he was only too happy to oblige - teasingly sliding down the odd strap, popping a button or provocatively lowering his waistband to groin level. Despite his far from buff physique and ludicrous attire, Katerine still exuded an inkling of sexual energy through his confidence and sheer audacity, even when he stood in front of the crowd in nothing but a pair of unflatteringly stretchy mock denim undercrackers.
Entertaining as all this was, I am uncertain whether it
would translate well to an Anglophone culture.
The show’s air of the bizarre and slapstick adds upto the kind of humour that is quintessentially français. Ooh là là.
Check out Katerine's website and help him catch those bananas.
Would I try it again?: Oufti.......oui!
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Just What I've Always Wanted
Last week, for the first time ever: I wore a Bumpit.
I am a sucker for novelty items and the first person to be drawn in by a new product claiming to be the answer to all health and beauty dilemmas. Only very recently I spent a ridiculous 8 Euros on a miracle cold sore cure which has now left me with a huge branflake in the corner of my mouth.
On a recent trip to my hometown of St Helens, my Mum caught me in the act of falling hook line and sinker for a video in Boots the Chemist promoting a revolutionary big hair product: the Bumpit. Before I squandered the £3.99 that was already half way into the hands of the cashier, my shrewd Mother informed me that the same item could be acquired from Poundland for, you guessed it, a cinch at just a quid.
I am a sucker for novelty items and the first person to be drawn in by a new product claiming to be the answer to all health and beauty dilemmas. Only very recently I spent a ridiculous 8 Euros on a miracle cold sore cure which has now left me with a huge branflake in the corner of my mouth.
On a recent trip to my hometown of St Helens, my Mum caught me in the act of falling hook line and sinker for a video in Boots the Chemist promoting a revolutionary big hair product: the Bumpit. Before I squandered the £3.99 that was already half way into the hands of the cashier, my shrewd Mother informed me that the same item could be acquired from Poundland for, you guessed it, a cinch at just a quid.
contemptuous shrieks of my fellow schoolies. I think I have also fallen into the trap of playing it safe; my hair doesn't look good long and it doesn't suit me short, so chin-length it is, with the occasional dramatic angle that keeps me from being too boring. However, in the back of my mind, I was born in the wrong era and I hanker after the days when women
painstainkingly teased their hair into fabulous beehives. I guess I have never been the same since I first saw the retro chic of Mari Wilson on Top of the Pops and will never fail to admire and envy the Bardot bouffant. On the occasion of my brother's wedding, I went the whole hog and spent the morning with my Mum's hairdresser as he coaxed my locks up into a beehive which has gone down in history at that particular establishment as being "fuckin' massive". The whole thing didn't budge for a matter of days and the CEO of Insette has now retired to the Bahamas from the proceeds of that appointment alone.
The Bumpit is a banana-shaped plastic article with teeth around the edges. The idea is to grab a section of hair, push it up with the Bumpit and then smooth it down over the top, spraying into place. Amazingly, with just a few trial runs, I managed to achieve the desired effect and it was eat your heart out Amy Winehouse. Surprisingly, the Bumpit manages to stay relatively secure and the style sleek. The amount of hairspray applied is key ("fuckin' massive") as is your planned evening activities: a night moshing on the dancefloor will have you rooting down the back of your frock for the Bumpit and would-be djettes should note that headphones are not the best accompaniment.
Mari Wilson: 80s retro icon and beekeeper...
....Massive.
Would I try it again?: Well I guess I need to get my money's worth from that quid...
Thursday, July 7, 2011
His Name is Rio
Last week, for the first time ever: I went to the Rio de Janeiro Carnival.
Well ok, not quite...but probably as close as I'll ever get.
How does a Belgian guy from the humble background of Herve end up being the centre of attention on a float at the world's biggest carnival?
The answer is simple: passion.
This is what I discovered last Sunday when I visited Alain Taillard's exhibition, and, for the first time ever, feasted my eyes on a variety of costumes that have been an integral part of the Rio Carnival during the last decade.
After pouring me a healthy glass of wine, Alain proceeded to tell me about his all-consuming hobby that takes him to the other side of the world every year along with partner Bernard who is only too happy to be his accompanying photographer.
Since the mere age of six years old, Alain has taken part in the carnival at his Belgian hometown, Herve, and over the years, his growing fascination has taken him to Nice, Venice and finally the biggest carnival of all, Rio de Janeiro. Most of us can only dream about the once in a lifetime possibility of visiting Rio; Alain has been to the Rio carnival every single year since 1992 and his dreams came true when he was invited to mount a podium on one of the samba school floats. Since then he has climbed the ranks and earned himself more and more prestigious roles each year and is now officially listed as a destaque, or floatee, with the Mangueira samba school.
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Before speaking to Alain and seeing the exhibition, I had little idea of the effort, love and attention that goes into crafting each of these costumes over a period of 6 months. It is purely an indulgent, artistic pursuit: each costume is only used once and for just over an hour during the festivities. Only a true afficionado would be prepared to don this heavy, beaded intricate attire and sweat half their body weight in temperatures that sore above 30 degrees.
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Alain and Bernard fund their annual escapades by hosting similar exhibitions throughout Belgium, definitely a worthy cause for the token price of 2 Euros. You can read more about them here: Carnaval de Rio
Would I try it again? All proceeds via paypal to http://www.sendclaireonafreebietorio.justgiving.com/
Well ok, not quite...but probably as close as I'll ever get.
How does a Belgian guy from the humble background of Herve end up being the centre of attention on a float at the world's biggest carnival?
The answer is simple: passion.
This is what I discovered last Sunday when I visited Alain Taillard's exhibition, and, for the first time ever, feasted my eyes on a variety of costumes that have been an integral part of the Rio Carnival during the last decade.
After pouring me a healthy glass of wine, Alain proceeded to tell me about his all-consuming hobby that takes him to the other side of the world every year along with partner Bernard who is only too happy to be his accompanying photographer.
Since the mere age of six years old, Alain has taken part in the carnival at his Belgian hometown, Herve, and over the years, his growing fascination has taken him to Nice, Venice and finally the biggest carnival of all, Rio de Janeiro. Most of us can only dream about the once in a lifetime possibility of visiting Rio; Alain has been to the Rio carnival every single year since 1992 and his dreams came true when he was invited to mount a podium on one of the samba school floats. Since then he has climbed the ranks and earned himself more and more prestigious roles each year and is now officially listed as a destaque, or floatee, with the Mangueira samba school.
Before speaking to Alain and seeing the exhibition, I had little idea of the effort, love and attention that goes into crafting each of these costumes over a period of 6 months. It is purely an indulgent, artistic pursuit: each costume is only used once and for just over an hour during the festivities. Only a true afficionado would be prepared to don this heavy, beaded intricate attire and sweat half their body weight in temperatures that sore above 30 degrees.
The detail and magnitude of each costume astounded me. Having tried my hand at fancy dress over the years, I can safely say that what I witnessed in the Ancienne Halle aux Viande in Liege that Sunday afternoon puts my last minute attempts at cobbling together a Marge Simpson costume to shame. Some of the costumes were even incomplete, missing a few tons of peacock feathers; far too expensive to risk damage in transit and thus, left behind in Rio.
Alain and Bernard fund their annual escapades by hosting similar exhibitions throughout Belgium, definitely a worthy cause for the token price of 2 Euros. You can read more about them here: Carnaval de Rio
Would I try it again? All proceeds via paypal to http://www.sendclaireonafreebietorio.justgiving.com/
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