Free photo walks around Rookery Park and Erdington High Street – ahead of Green Spaces exhibition at Ikon Gallery

Words by Ed King

Across March, a series of free to access photo walks and workshops will be held in Erdington – with Birmingham born photographer Jaskirt Dhaliwal-Boora inviting local residents to explore how green spaces and urban settings can impact their mental health.

Starting on Monday 4 March, the first photo walk will take place between 10:30am and 12noon – with subsequent workshops held at the same time on Monday 11 March and Monday 24 March.

The events will run for about 45mins each, with regular stops, and no previous experience of photography required to take part. Organisers have asked those attending to ‘wear suitable warm clothing and footwear for urban walking.’

Locations outlined for the photo walks include Rookery Park and Erdington High Street.

As well as the photography workshops, participants will have the option to display their work at Ikon Gallery in June as part of a special exhibition called Green Spaces – alongside portraits of those who attended the events in green spaces that are important to them, taken by Dhaliwal-Boora.

Jaskirt Dhaliwal-Boora is an award winning Birmingham photographer and multi disciplinarian artist, who uses her work to ‘empower and give voice’ to marginalised communities and explore how to visually capture and represent ethnicity, gender, and place.

Awarded the British Journal of Photography’s Portrait of Britain prize for three years running, from 2022-24, her previous work has been exhibited at the UN Headquarters in New York, Wembley Stadium, The People’s History Museum in Manchester, and at the Birmingham Commonwealth Games 2022.

To see previous portraits taken by Dhaliwal-Boora, click here to visit her online portfolio or on the link below.

A collaboration between Ikon Gallery and Living Well Consortium – a group of 30 charities, volunteer groups, and not-for-profit mental health organisations – the Green Spaces project and exhibition are intended to ‘raise awareness of, and engagement with, topics centred on mental health and wellbeing’, according to organisers.

According to UK based mental health charity Mind, a quarter of the British population will experience mental health problems – with the Office of National Statistics finding the one in six people across the UK will experience depression at any one time.

Men’s suicide rates, often linked to mental health concerns or depression, are three time higher than women’s in the UK – as found in a report published by The Samaritans.

Green Spaces is scheduled to be on display at Ikon Gallery from 12–23 June, later this year.

For more information and to book a place on the Erdington photo walks, please email Green Spaces producer Amelia Hawk at a.hawk@ikon-gallery.org

To find out more about the Green Spaces photo walks and workshops in Erdington visit: www.ikon-gallery.org/news/view/photo-walks-and-workshops

For more on the Green Spaces exhibition at Ikon Gallery visit www.ikon-gallery.org/exhibition/green-spaces

For more on Jaskirt Dhaliwal-Boora visit www.jaskirtdhaliwalboora.com

Seth Lakeman celebrates twentieth anniversary of Kitty Jay at Birmingham Town Hall

Words and pics by Emily Doyle

On 28 February, Seth Lakeman’s tour party rolled into Birmingham for an evening at the Town Hall.

It’s twenty years since the Devonshire folk artist appeared in the public consciousness with the release of Mercury Prize nominated Kitty Jay, and in celebration they’re treating audiences to the album in full.

A hushed crowd fills Birmingham Town Hall as Lakeman and co kick off their first set with the opening four tracks of said album. Everything sounds just as haunting as it did two decades ago. Lakeman’s vocals are unchanged, a crisp and measured tone cushioned by tenor guitar and double bass. Vocalist Alex Hart deftly weaves melodies around Lakeman’s tales of Dartmoor folklore.

Towards the end of the first set, the band drops away and Lakeman walks to the front of the stage. Commenting on the great acoustics of the hall, he announces he’s going to do the next track off-mic. What follows is the highlight of the evening.

‘Farewell My Love’ is a raw, forlorn tune that sees Lakeman in call and response with himself. Pitch perfect fiddle is answered by a warbling vocal, set to a minimal drone that challenges how much can be done with how little.

There’s pin-drop silence in the busy room. The lack of amplification feels timeless and primal.

To a wave of applause Lakeman steps back over to the mic for the title track, ‘Kitty Jay’ – a fiddle tour de force which originally catapulted him into the spotlight back in 2005 when he performed it live on TV at the Mercury Awards. Percussionist (and Royal Birmingham Conservatoire member) Cormac Byrne reappears on stage to bring the track home, before we go to an interval.

For the second set Lakeman seems glad to get away from the dark sound of Kitty Jay and into the more jovial sounds of his later work. The atmosphere in the room shifts noticeably as favourites like ‘Lady of the Sea’ and ‘Take No Rogues’ get the crowd dancing in their seats.

A rockier, more American-sounding side to Lakeman’s work comes through – though he brings it back to basics in the encore with a joyous rendition of ‘Scrumpy’s Set’, one of his early compositions arranged for fiddle, bodhrán, and guitar.

It’s celebratory, and rightly so; everyone in the room is beaming ear to ear.

For more on Seth Lakeman visit: www.sethlakeman.co.uk

For more events at Birmingham’s Town and Symphony Halls visit: www.bmusic.co.uk

“It hurts. Why am I enjoying myself so much?” – post punk noise rockers Gilla Band headline The Castle and Falcon

Words by Matthew Osborne / Pics by Emily Doyle

Dublin’s Gilla Band are riding the crest of a wave of noise-punk bands currently enjoying a surge in popularity and critical acclaim. They are joined at The Castle and Falcon this evening by the equally abrasive and experimental French noiseniks, The Psychotic Monks, for the first date of their UK Tour.

There is a sense of expectation in the cosy little front room of the venue before doors open for the gig, with The Psychotic Monks being as eagerly anticipated as the headliners. It is the end of another frenetic working week for most of us, and a couple of slightly dazed looking gents in full suits remind us all of that. We are here to relax.

Although relaxing isn’t a word that springs to mind when describing either of tonight’s acts. Gilla Band’s second album, The Talkies, begins with a close mic recording of singer Dara Kiley having a panic attack.

But whilst both acts produce music which is harsh, atonal, and unforgiving, these anxiety-laden walls of noise are bringing in the punters tonight – and the main room at The Castle and Falcon (for me, one of Birmingham’s best live venues) soon fills up.

The Psychotic Monks take the stage quietly, tinkering with machines and sending a rhythmic pulse through the audience, before slamming us with two gut punchers influenced heavily by the dirtiest German techno. Multi-instrumentalist Paul Dussaux writhes to his panel of buttons and wires like Jimmy Somerville channelling Ian Curtis and, despite the unflinching harshness of the music, all four members look to be having a great time.

Just as I think I’ve got the hang of the band they morph into a more abrasive Sonic Youth-informed monster with a perverted but welcome sense of melody, before closing their set with a stunning and sprawling song called ‘Décors’.

This is fronted by guitarist Martin Bejuy, who downs tools in favour of thrashing about the stage, unhinged, and, foot on monitor, goads those of us brave enough to be standing on the front row with a dangerously untethered microphone stand.

Gilla Band have a tough act to follow. Making it harder is a drunk guy flailing about at the front. He tries to shake Dara Kiley’s hand, and when he is rejected he grabs for his leg instead. Knowing that Dara suffers from anxiety (and reading the grimaces on the faces of those nearest the drunkard) I tense up, bracing for an inevitable confrontation.

Thankfully, security wade through the crowd and eject him a couple of songs into the set, leaving the rest of us free to finally unwind to an hour’s worth of concrete static, air raid siren guitars, and shrieked vocals. Ah… pure bliss.

There is something cathartic in this kind of music. Not everyone is able to chill out to whale noises, gong massages, and finger cymbals – some of us prefer retreating into dark rooms with barely contained explosions of sound obliterating what is left of our eardrums, bouncing with and rebounding off a room full of strangers. Overstimulation clears your head; with senses running at maximum capacity, the brain has no time to think, no time to worry.

Halfway through the gig I become mesmerised by guitarist Alan Duggan’s technique. He spends more time kneeling at his enormous bank of pedals than he does strumming the guitar’s strings.

I watch his fretboard work; at one point I see he is playing an A major chord, but that is not what is ringing out. What I hear when he strums this chord is a concrete slab of white noise weighing roughly the same as a really fucking huge concrete slab smacking me in the face, ribs and heart. All sense of melody is removed from the band’s sound and we are left with, I suppose, Drum ‘n Noise…?

It hurts. Why am I enjoying myself so much? Why are we all enjoying ourselves so much? The crowd behind me is lurching forward, and I turn to see a sea of hypnotised faces swaying in the strobe lights, Buddha-like grins now replacing the traditional British frown.

Gilla band are relentless live. They briefly acknowledge their audience some five or so songs into their set, but banter is sparse. And unlike their support, they don’t look like they’re enjoying themselves so much as exorcising something from within them.

The beats are propulsive; the sound is ferocious and gnarled, broken, but not defeated, not hopeless. There is something about Dara’s vocal delivery that brings to mind James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem.

Gilla Band could be seen as a reworking of that band, if you pushed them violently through a food blender with no regard for your own limbs and recorded the resultant mess onto cassette tape which you then spooled out onto broken glass and stamped on in a fit of cynical rage.

Which is to say, there is humour and playfulness in there somewhere – but it masks something altogether more disturbing.

At the end of an intense hour or so of fresh sounding music that resembles the overstimulation of our times, I leave the gig feeling calm and relaxed and decide to buy a kebab with no concern for my cholesterol at all. I listen to the two bands I just witnessed on my headphones whilst I eat. I feel calm, happy, and content.

Tomorrow will be another day with its own challenges, but tonight I will sleep. God bless noise rock for pummelling my brain into a quiet submission.

Gilla Band + The Psychotic Monks @ Castle and Falcon 23.02.24 / Emily Doyle

For more on Gilla Band visit: www.gillaband.com

For more on The Psychotic Monks visit: www.fmly.agency/artist/the-psychotic-monks

For more from The Castle and Falcon visit: www.castleandfalcon.com

Modern Literature deliver frenetic post-punk at ‘Bootlicker’ single launch Hare & Hounds show

Words by Sophie Hack / Pics by Emily Doyle

Britain can be bleak at the best of times, but it’s the bemusement and chaos of being part of this island that births raw art and, with it, a bit of hope.

In the same week that funding for the arts in Birmingham will be cut by 100% next financial year, Brum’s local music showed once again that, despite adversity, it will be firmly rooted in the hearts and minds of many.

Modern Literature’s ‘Bootlicker’ single release show proved that the beating heart of Birmingham’s music is still pumping and adrenaline-fuelled, as they conquered the stage at the Hare and Hounds on Wednesday, 21 February.

But the overall line-up saw a full room even at the opener – the enigmatic White Hot Cum (…yes, really). Ciggy behind the ear of Kaila Whyte and Hi-Vis adorned by Connor Hemming, the duo seemingly rolled straight off the street and into their thrashy skate-punk. Raucous and uncontrollable, they ripped through songs such as ‘Breakfast Burgers’ and ‘Bosom Friends’ – heckling and telling unfiltered jokes to the crowd in between.

“Wu-Tang is for the children, White Hot Cum is not,” Connor confirmed before flying through hazy, punky, and sometimes blues-y tracks, with an energy on stage I can only liken to the Looney Tunes character Taz. Ending their set with a cover of Black Flag’s ‘Rise Above’ and a declaration of free Palestine, the hilarious White Hot Cum must be seen to be believed. The duo is fantastic at tantalising the crowd with pure charm, wit, and deliciously infectious punk.

The tempo slowed down with the next act, Animal Bones, serving smooth rock & roll with a classic American sound. Frontman Miles Cocker had a huge stage presence, using the monitor to peer closer into the crowd while delivering the sucker-punch rock you’d hear on a hot desert drive.

The slick bass lines and crooning guitar solos brought the heat to the Hare and Hounds, to create a sound like Queens of the Stone Age meets the moodiness of Massive Attack – a timeless sound that will pique the interest of any rock fan.

Modern Literature’s headline show was to celebrate the release of ‘Bootlicker’ – a single that is a “visceral warning” of “the danger of populism, jingoism and right-wing isolationism that’s infected the consciousness” of society. An ode to the people who “pull up the ladder after themselves”, ‘Bootlicker’ takes modern-day inspiration while harking back to the rage felt in the 1980s, through the prominent bass lines and syncopated guitar stabs that echo into this era.

Their set began with an almost apocalyptic sound married with Sean Thompson-De Wolfe’s poem hailing that: “We’ve made a violent God in our own image.”

The brunt force of Modern Literature’s post-punk sent shockwaves through the room, heaving with frenetic energy in tracks ‘Buzz Buzz Buzz’ and ‘Panic Attack’. Frontman Greg Smith handles the stage in a similar way to David Byrne, twisting and contorting as the heavy crashes of symbols spliced with synths and guitar.

The adrenaline that’s building throughout the set comes to a head during the encore ‘Weeping Willow’, as singer Greg and Bassist Skip Davies join the crowd while Kieran Naughton (guitar), Mark Lewis (guitar/keyboards), and Jacob Hall (drums) hold the stage with a wall of fuzz and noise.

Guitars crash to the floor (and singers crash into drums) as their single release show comes to a close, shinning a beacon of hope over Birmingham’s arts scene which needs our support, our energy, and our passion more than ever now to keep it alive.

Modern Literature + Animal Bones, White Hot Cum @ Hare & Hounds 21.02.24 / Emily Doyle

For more on Modern Literature click here to visit their Spotify page. 

For more on Animal Bones visit: www.instagram.com/animal_bones_oficial

For more from the Hare and Hounds, including a full event programme and links to online ticket sales, visit: wwww.hareandhoundskingsheath.co.uk

Living in the clouds: Perfect Days is just a monotonous Tokyo story

Words by Jimmy Dougan (follow him on Letterboxd here) / Press images courtesy of MUBI

The idea that depicting monotony needn’t be monotonous is hardly a new idea.

Take Chantal Akerman’s Jeanne Dielman which with exacting slowness depicts three days in the life of a repressed housewife. Or more recently Jim Jarmusch’s Paterson, which spans a week in the life of the poet. These are unvarnished works which, through acute psychological detail nonetheless build to crescendos of genuine dramatic heft.

Just because something is boring, they suggest, doesn’t mean that the experience of watching of it should be. There are, however, some films which are boring to watch, which slide towards tedium and frustrate with their emotional dullness.

Wim Wenders’ new film, Perfect Days, is one of the latter; a series of trite encounters which say dull things about a dull subject, exacerbated by the smug contentment with which it presents itself. Happy to be slight, it’s a work of maddening incuriosity, full of broad gestures made by characters who only occasionally register psychologically or emotionally.

Perfect Days follows Hirayama (Kōji Yakusho), who works as a cleaner for the Tokyo Toilet, a series of seventeen public toilets of artistic distinction in Tokyo’s Shibuya neighbourhood. He lives in a small apartment, and like the protagonists of Akerman or Jarmusch follows an intense daily routine.

He is woken by the sound of an old lady sweeping outside; he reads, shaves, waters his plants, dons a set of overalls, gets a coffee from a vending machine, and starts his van. He soundtracks his drives with cassettes of 70’s American rock.

Hirayama goes from toilet to toilet and treats his work with a seriousness which baffles his younger colleague, Takashi (Tokio Emoto). His routine is repetitive but not without pleasure: after work he washes in a bathhouse and eats in a restaurant before returning home to sleep.

Wenders and co-screenwriter Takuma Takasaki try to portray Hirayama as an enigma, they make various allusions to his past without ever explicitly revealing just how he came to be cleaning toilets.

The film lusts after Hirayama via incessant close-ups which try, and fail, to imbue him with a sort of spiritual purity. If only everyone who cleaned up faeces and urine for a living could find such joy in the morning sky… It is wishful and, ultimately, deeply belittling.

Realising this, Toni Froschhammer’s editing rears its head and any scenes involving cleaning are zipped through snappily. Perfect Days focuses then on a series of mildly excruciating encounters between the cleaner and various other zany outsider-figures.

He gets dragged along to a music store by Takashi and listens to Patti Smith with Takashi’s girlfriend Aya (Aoi Yamada). These moments are sweet, but shallow – though Takashi and Aya suggest themselves, in their brief appearances, to be vastly more interesting characters than Hirayama. Sensing our awareness of this the film has Aya disappear, and Takashi leave his job.

If the first hour of Perfect Days is a slog, the second is more compelling owing to the abrupt appearance of Hirayama’s teenage niece Niko (Arisa Nakano), who has run away from home. The film slows down and takes a breath.

Wenders and Takasaki finally begin to do more than merely gesture towards psychology; Niko cannot fathom why her uncle would take a job such as his so seriously, Hirayama can’t fathom why someone wouldn’t. She watches her uncle work with a mixture of fascination and revulsion.

Yakusho and Nakano imbue these scenes with two senses of weariness, middle-aged and adolescent, and the effect is moving if derivative. Hirayama is the surname of the family in Yasujirō Ozu’s 1953 Tokyo Story, a film which so painfully depicts the inevitable rifts that fissure between young and old, tradition and modernity.

So, if the second hour of Perfect Days is a rehashing of old ideas, at least the film finally expresses an opinion on something.

Why Wenders doesn’t devote the entirety of his film’s runtime to the dynamic between Hirayama and Niko is a question with a straightforward answer: to do so would require a genuine interest in depicting psychology and not merely capturing superficial quirks.

Lurking behind a veneer of arthouse pretension, Perfect Days is little more than a tedious and arrogant film full of hollow motifs and dull images. No doubt the cultural bourgeoisie Wenders has spent fifty years pandering to will relish it – it must be lovely living in the clouds.

Perfect Days – official trailer

Perfect Days releases in cinemas on 23 February, for Birmingham screenings follow the below links:

The Electric Cinema: www.electricbirmingham.com
MAC: www.macbirmingham.co.uk/cinema/perfect-days
Mockingbird Cinema: www.mockingbirdcinema.com/production/perfect-days

For more on Perfect Days visit: https://www.perfectdays-movie.jp/en