It’s a strange thing, to watch somebody die, to contemplate the end of life. I was present when my grandmother passed away; to me, it seemed that she had what you would call ‘a good death’.
I was looking for them all day. It was windy and the sky was that kind of overcast that’s bleached white, cold white, hard to stare straight into.
It’s 10:58pm and he’s late again. You’ve spent the last hour – well, hour and 15 minutes because you like to arrive early – pulling at the edge of your coat, platting, and re-platting the fringe of your scarf, which you had to remove because you felt too hot.
A review of Slip Cast, an exhibition currently on at The Dowse.
I guess what I’m trying to say could have been said another way, but children tend to respond to stimuli in an unmediated, visceral way. The museum is inextricably linked with death.
Kendall Jenner seems to think she is welcome at the 67th Cannes Film Festival. As the less-famous sibling of a family of reality-TV stars, who also thinks wearing Topshop to Met Gala is acceptable and who flunks a five-second introduction at the Billboards, the plentiful photos of the model taking photos and eating lunch along the south coast of France is somewhat tarnishing the Festival’s arthouse origins.
Coldplay is a classic on my ‘Chill’ playlist, but I was uneasy about this album following the pop catastrophe of Mylo Xyloto in 2011. I was pleasantly surprised.
Tom’s Lunch shows impressive versatility and experimentation from a group that is a bastion of contemporary New Zealand music. But within the global spectrum of experimental soft rock, this EP is disappointing.
It was only occasionally that I found myself humming ‘This Charming Man’, but the general ambience of Morrissey circa 1983 abides.