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Scenic View by Tom Hoying

Tom Hoying, a US-based photographer, has released a splendid series named Scenic View which explores tourist culture and the bond between the experience and photography as a tool.

Writing about the series Tom Hoying stated: “Every year millions of people visit countless landmarks, lookouts, monuments, and museums in search of an authentic lived experience. The nostalgia of place can be overwhelmingly powerful. Often the anticipation of a photographed experience, and the memories associated with the photographs produced are more potent than the lived experience itself. Scenic View is a series of photographs that attempt to explore tourist culture and the relationship photography has as a tool to mediate and document lived experience.”

You can find more work by Tom Hoying here.

Sound Selection 055

Cappa I Do

Cappa, a rising name in the world of pop music, has released her single I Do. In this latest playlist-must have track, CAPPA delivers some sweet-sounding vocals and an energy that will have you hooked from the get-go. If this song does not get you excited, not much will.

Zaia BLUE

Coming in with a blast of a track is Zaia, a twenty-year-old music producer who combines wonderful bass and majestic-like vocals to create a truly splendid atmosphere throughout the track BLUE. This one is for the playlists.

Fool Child Bend

Fool Child, a Melbourne-based Indie Pop duo, have presented us with Bend, a melancholy driven song that utilises dreamy-like vocals with simple yet effective and ear-pleasing production. Having released Bend, we are thrilled to see what is next for Fool Child.

Choosey & Exile Low Low  feat. Aloe Blacc

The final song of this Sound Selection is by Choosey & Exile featuring the beloved singer-songwriter Aloe Blacc. In this energetic and catchy track named Low Low, Choosey & Exile deliver quite the journey with top-notch jazzy production, smooth vocals and an overall vibe that will keep you listening for days and weeks to come.

Top Reads: March

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Humble Pi: A Comedy of Maths Errors by Matt Parker

What makes a bridge wobble when it’s not meant to? Billions of dollars mysteriously vanish into thin air? A building rock when its resonant frequency matches a gym class leaping to Snap’s 1990 hit I’ve Got The Power? The answer is maths. Or, to be precise, what happens when maths goes wrong in the real world.

As Matt Parker shows us, our modern lives are built on maths: computer programmes, finance, engineering. And most of the time this maths works quietly behind the scenes, until … it doesn’t. Exploring and explaining a litany of glitches, near-misses and mishaps involving the internet, big data, elections, street signs, lotteries, the Roman empire and a hapless Olympic shooting team, Matt Parker shows us the bizarre ways maths trips us up, and what this reveals about its essential place in our world.

Mathematics doesn’t have good ‘people skills’, but we would all be better off, he argues, if we saw it as a practical ally. This book shows how, by making maths our friend, we can learn from its pitfalls. It also contains puzzles, challenges, geometric socks, jokes about binary code and three deliberate mistakes. Getting it wrong has never been more fun.

Natives: Race and Class in the Ruins of Empire by Akala

From the first time he was stopped and searched as a child, to the day he realised his mum was white, to his first encounters with racist teachers – race and class have shaped Akala’s life and outlook. In this unique book he takes his own experiences and widens them out to look at the social, historical and political factors that have left us where we are today.

Covering everything from the police, education and identity to politics, sexual objectification and the far right, Natives will speak directly to British denial and squeamishness when it comes to confronting issues of race and class that are at the heart of the legacy of Britain’s racialised empire.

The Perfect Child by Lucinda Berry

Christopher and Hannah are a happily married surgeon and nurse with picture-perfect lives. All that’s missing is a child. When Janie, an abandoned six-year-old, turns up at their hospital, Christopher forms an instant connection with her, and he convinces Hannah they should take her home as their own.

But Janie is no ordinary child, and her damaged psyche proves to be more than her new parents were expecting. Janie is fiercely devoted to Christopher, but she acts out in increasingly disturbing ways, directing all her rage at Hannah. Unable to bond with Janie, Hannah is drowning under the pressure, and Christopher refuses to see Janie’s true nature.

Hannah knows that Janie is manipulating Christopher and isolating him from her, despite Hannah’s attempts to bring them all together. But as Janie’s behaviour threatens to tear Christopher and Hannah apart, the truth behind Janie’s past may be enough to push them all over the edge.

Run Away by Harlan Coben

She’s addicted to drugs and to an abusive boyfriend. You haven’t seen her in six months.

Then you find her busking in New York’s Central Park.

But she’s not the girl you remember. This woman is frail, filthy, terrified, and in more trouble than you ever imagined.

You don’t stop to think. You approach her. You beg her to come home.

SHE RUNS.

You follow. What choice do you have? And as you descend into the dark, dangerous world she’s lost herself in, you quickly find yourself out of your depths. Down here, no-one is safe – and now both of you might never make it out alive…

Everybody Died, So I Got a Dog by Emily Dean

Growing up with the Deans was a fabulous training ground for many things: ignoring unpaid bills, being the most entertaining guest at dinner, deconstructing poetry. It was never home for the dog Emily craved.

Emily shared the lively chaos with her beloved older sister Rachael, her rock. Over the years the sisters bond grew ever closer. As Rachael went on to have the cosy family and treasured dog, Giggle, Emily threw herself into unsettled adventure – dog ownership remaining a distant dream.

Then, tragically, Rachael is diagnosed with cancer. In just three devastating years Emily loses not only her sister but both her parents as well.

This is the funny heart-breaking, wonderfully told story of how Emily discovers that it is possible to overcome the worst that life can throw at you, that it’s never too late to make peace with your past, and that the right time is only ever now, as she finally starts again with her very own dog – the adorable Shih-tzu named Raymond.

Transcription by Kate Atkinson

In 1940, eighteen-year old Juliet Armstrong is reluctantly recruited into the world of espionage. Sent to an obscure department of MI5 tasked with monitoring the comings and goings of British Fascist sympathizers, she discovers the work to be by turns both tedious and terrifying. But after the war has ended, she presumes the events of those years have been relegated to the past for ever.

Ten years later, now a producer at the BBC, Juliet is unexpectedly confronted by figures from her past. A different war is being fought now, on a different battleground, but Juliet finds herself once more under threat. A bill of reckoning is due, and she finally begins to realize that there is no action without consequence.

Transcription is a work of rare depth and texture, a bravura modern novel of extraordinary power, wit and empathy. It is a triumphant work of fiction from one of this country’s most exceptional writers.

The Five by Hallie Rubenhold

Polly, Annie, Elizabeth, Catherine and Mary-Jane are famous for the same thing, though they never met. They came from Fleet Street, Knightsbridge, Wolverhampton, Sweden and Wales. They wrote ballads, ran coffee houses, lived on country estates, they breathed ink-dust from printing presses and escaped people-traffickers.

What they had in common was the year of their murders: 1888.

Their murderer was never identified, but the name created for him by the press has become far more famous than any of these five women.

Now, in this devastating narrative of five lives, historian Hallie Rubenhold finally sets the record straight, and gives these women back their stories.

I Thought I Knew You by Penny Hancock

Jules and Holly have been best friends since university. They tell each other everything, trading revelations and confessions, and sharing both the big moments and the small details of their lives: Holly is the only person who knows about Jules’s affair; Jules was there for Holly when her husband died. And their two children – just three years apart – have grown up together.

So when Jules’s daughter Saffie makes a serious allegation against Holly’s son Saul, neither woman is prepared for the devastating impact this will have on their friendship or their families.

Especially as Holly, in spite of her principles, refuses to believe her son is guilty.

VOX by Christina Dalcher

Jean McClellan spends her time in almost complete silence, limited to just one hundred words a day. Any more, and a thousand volts of electricity will course through her veins.

Now the new government is in power, everything has changed. But only if you’re a woman.

Almost overnight, bank accounts are frozen, passports are taken away and seventy million women lose their jobs. Even more terrifyingly, young girls are no longer taught to read or write.

For herself, her daughter, and for every woman silenced, Jean will reclaim her voice. This is only the beginning…

A Fabulous Creation by David Hepworth 

The era of the LP began in 1967, with ‘Sgt Pepper’; The Beatles didn’t just collect together a bunch of songs, they Made An Album. Henceforth, everybody else wanted to Make An Album.

The end came only fifteen years later, coinciding with the release of Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’. By then the Walkman had taken music out of the home and into the streets and the record business had begun trying to reverse-engineer the creative process in order to make big money. Nobody would play music or listen to it in quite the same way ever again.

It was a short but transformative time. Musicians became ‘artists’ and we, the people, patrons of the arts. The LP itself had been a mark of sophistication, a measure of wealth, an instrument of education, a poster saying things you dare not say yourself, a means of attracting the opposite sex, and, for many, the single most desirable object in their lives.

This is the story of that time; it takes us from recording studios where musicians were doing things that had never been done before to the sparsely furnished apartments where their efforts would be received like visitations from a higher power. This is the story of how LPs saved our lives.

*All book descriptions are taken from Amazon*

New Light by David Esquivel

David Esquivel, a US-based artist, has released another stunning series of artworks named New Light. It adds to a vast collection of works he has made before which all share the same minimalistic abstract style.

Writing about his work Esquivel stated: “My work has always been about time, about what was here at the beginning. A wide variety of elements coalesced and continue to live together harmoniously in these very different worlds. Those relationships are the heart of my work. It’s the same with us as humans living together amongst each other and with everything else in the universe. I like keeping the individuality of each objects/body while allowing them to interact freely with the others.”

You can find more work by David Esquivel here.

Abstract Collages by Dado Queiroz

Dado Queiroz, a Brazilian-born artist who currently resides in Belgium, has released an abstract series that utilises packaging paper to create aesthetically-pleasing art pieces. Many of these pieces remind us of minimalist abstract album covers that have been released by electronic music producers over the past three decades. 

 

You can find more work by Dado Queiroz here.

The Black Curtain Series by Wonmi Seo

Wonmi Seo, a South Korean artist who was born in Seoul, has released a series of dark and mysterious paintings named Black Curtain. Combining dark colours, harsh textures Wonmi Seo has created something that will stick with one for a while.

Writing about the series Wonmi Seo stated “The Black Curtain series is a portrait that exists behind the complex and trauma of Korean society.”

You can find more work by Wonmi Seo here.

Winter in the Woods by Heiko Gerlicher

Heiko Gerlicher, a German-born landscape and nature photographer, has released a series named Winter in the Woods. The series includes a stunning selection of photos illustrating the winter season in the woods with a touch of mystery and pure beauty.

You can find more work by Heiko Gerlicher here.

Sound Selection 054

BAD CHILD Breathing Fire

Entering our 54th Sound Selection is BAD CHILD with an energetic and vastly expressive track Breathing Fire. BAD CHILD, a promising name in the world of music, has delivered quite the entrance onto our radar with Breathing Fire, a track made for your playlists.

salute JTS

Coming in with lovely vocals and tuneful synths is the amazing salute in the track JTS. In this electronica-filled track, salute delivers a journey of a song with a wave of searing synths and lustrous bass that will have you dancing for hours to come.

Kiushu The Noise of Water

Kiushu, a quickly rising Dutch duo, have released their newest project A Prayer. Part of the project Kiushu included their passionate song The Noise of Water, in which they deliver phenomenal tensity and propelling energy through classical and vocal elements. If you are looking for something more unique, then The Noise of Water will be perfect for you.

Interview: Lee Fields

Before the release of his latest song You’re What’s Needed In My Life, the legendary soul musician, Lee Fields, joined us for an interview to talk about the release and culture.

Hi, how are you?

I’m good thanks!

You’ve been in the music industry for quite some time, what’s the most important lesson you have learned from being in it?

It is be careful what you say and write about because it can come back and bite you. This is why I write about things that I’m sure I feel.

So, how did your new single You’re What’s Needed In My Life come about?

Of course, it came from my wife. I feel as I look around today, songs about togetherness are very important in this time. I think You’re What’s Needed In My Life, if someone listens to the lyrics they might wonder what’s truly needed in their life. The song I feel is necessary for this time.

What were the challenges of making You’re What’s Needed In My Life?

It’s always a challenge to try to make a record people like because you know people are very choosy about what they like, and they know exactly what they like. I feel pretty pleased with the outcome because people are gravitating to that song

Do you have any other projects in work?

We did a project with an Australian group Bliss n Eso. We did a movie last year where I play a soul singer James Parker, I think it’s going to be called James Parker and it will be in film festivals this year.

If you could collaborate with any artist, dead or alive, who would it be?

I don’t have anybody particular in mind. I think time and fate bring the people together for whoever are meant to work together. I would love to work on projects with many people.

Our final question, what is your definition of culture?

My definition of culture is the trend that people are going through and what is accepted as being normal and what really affects the people to change their direction or affect them in a way where it’s going to weigh on what people are doing. Culture is to be informed and to be a part of a large collective body of people.

7 Poems for World Poetry Day

Today marks a special day, World Poetry Day. To celebrate this special event, we have selected seven important poems that are very much relevant today.


To a Stranger

Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me,
I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

Walt Whitman


Blackberry-Picking

Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer’s blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.
Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills
We trekked and picked until the cans were full,
Until the tinkling bottom had been covered
With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned
Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered
With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard’s.
We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.
But when the bath was filled we found a fur,
A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.
The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush
The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.
I always felt like crying. It wasn’t fair
That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.
Each year I hoped they’d keep, knew they would not.
Seamus Heaney

Death

NOR dread nor hope attend
A dying animal;
A man awaits his end
Dreading and hoping all;
Many times he died,
Many times rose again.
A great man in his pride
Confronting murderous men
Casts derision upon
Supersession of breath;
He knows death to the bone —
Man has created death.

William Butler Yeats

I heard a Fly buzz

I heard a Fly buzz – when I died –
The Stillness in the Room
Was like the Stillness in the Air –
Between the Heaves of Storm –

The Eyes around – had wrung them dry –
And Breaths were gathering firm
For that last Onset – when the King
Be witnessed – in the Room –

I willed my Keepsakes – Signed away
What portions of me be
Assignable – and then it was
There interposed a Fly –

With Blue – uncertain stumbling Buzz –
Between the light – and me –
And then the Windows failed – and then
I could not see to see –

Emily Dickinson


the house

They are building a house
half a block down
and I sit up here
with the shades down
listening to the sounds,
the hammers pounding in nails,
thack thack thack thack,
and then I hear birds,
and thack thack thack,
and I go to bed,
I pull the covers to my throat;
they have been building this house
for a month, and soon it will have
its people…sleeping, eating,
loving, moving around,
but somehow
now
it is not right,
there seems a madness,
men walk on top with nails
in their mouths
and I read about Castro and Cuba,
and at night I walk by
and the ribs of the house show
and inside I can see cats walking
the way cats walk,
and then a boy rides by on a bicycle
and still the house is not done
and in the morning the men
will be back
walking around on the house
with their hammers,
and it seems people should not build houses
anymore,
it seems people should not get married
anymore,
it seems people should stop working
and sit in small rooms
on 2nd floors
under electric lights without shades;
it seems there is a lot to forget
and a lot not to do,
and in drugstores, markets, bars,
the people are tired, they do not want
to move, and I stand there at night
and look through this house and the
house does not want to be built;
through its sides I can see the purple hills
and the first lights of evening,
and it is cold
and I button my coat
and I stand there looking through the house
and the cats stop and look at me
until I am embarrased
and move North up the sidewalk
where I will buy
cigarettes and beer
and return to my room.

Charles Bukowski


Lady Lazarus

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it——

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?——

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot——
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I’ve a call.

It’s easy enough to do it in a cell.
It’s easy enough to do it and stay put.
It’s the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

‘A miracle!’
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart——
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash—
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there——

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

Sylvia Plath


Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
’Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Maya Angelou