Suits in Hardhats: A Guide to Gentrification

Writer Mark Roberts

From Shoreditch, to Brixton, to Peckham, London is a great example of how gentrification moves in waves. This process, which uproots local creative scenes and more importantly prices out local communities, is now (in my opinion) here in Brum.

For what seems like forever ago, some government busybody decided that what our neglected railway system needed was one big, really, really expensive railway line.

The HS2 project, whether intentional or not, hasn’t successfully connected the two ends of England, but will turn Birmingham into another grey, increasingly unaffordable satellite city for London.

A Slough 2.0., Reading: The Return of The Office Worker.

It, amongst other ‘development projects’ are the first formidable signs that the change is coming.

Which is why the primary indicator of gentrification is…

 

Suits in Hardhats

The first thing you should look out for are suits in hardhats. They’ll be in a group between two and twenty people – bigger the group the bigger the idea they have to ruin your area. This could be HS2 or it could be a brand-new housing block that will somehow lose the affordable housing part of it just before it is built.

Either way, they’ll be there, pointing at the wrong parts of the site and nodding aimlessly as if the last time they saw anyone build something wasn’t when they employed that guy to extend their indoor swimming pool.

This is always the beginning.

 

The Pretentious Bar

Picture this, you walk into a room and there you see exposed brick, all around you are tables and stools from your science classes and you see a gentleman with a massive beard behind the bar.

You look above the bar to see exposed ventilation, your palms are sweaty. You look at the price board. There it is in black and white, £8 for a 1/3rd pint of a dry hopped-raspberry-double maple-lassi-pancake-saison. You hold back tears as your back crumbles under its own weight on the hard wooden stool.

All you wish is that you hadn’t had that avocado on toast this morning, maybe then you could afford your overpriced drink (and/or a mortgage).

 

The Yuppie

The yuppie is an indicator of the end times for any area.

Nothing is less cool than a yuppie, so unaware, so arrogant. Imagine you’re still in that pretentious bar, your back now a series of loosely stacked pebbles. You hear a loud disturbance coming from the other side of the room. You look across, there he is, the banker (sorry for using cockney rhyming slang, they’re actually a stockbroker).

They’re screaming into a phone on loudspeaker/Bluetooth headset. “Yah Reggie, I was just on the phone with Daddeh”. You try to zone out but their voice drills into your head. The barman asks them what they want, “I’m on the phone” they rebuff.

You realise they bought a pint of the 1/3rd you’re drinking. Bastard.

 

The Chains

Another omen of the end times for your area is the ‘cool’ chain clubs and bars. If it’s trying to look worn down and independent but isn’t, if it’s got a quirky cultural theme but it’s not run by someone from that culture or thinks plastic trees are acceptable decor, then holy shit the gentrification is on. And it’s happening fast.

They’ll raise the prices of the booze in the area, caring not for creativity but profit. Worse, they attract…

 

The Basics

You can smell them in the air, the Selfridges’ fragrance department aftershave and perfume permeates the air. Their unisex fake tan entirely at odds with the patriarchal ideas pouring out of every word they say.

They’ll be there, giving the stink eye to anyone who isn’t trying to live up to their white heteronormative beauty standards, as they slowly push out everyone from the dance floor and out of these creative spaces. Until it’s just a sea of bare ankles, skinny jeans and stilettos.

Fun fact, the ratio of basics to the room is actually entirely correlated to levels of gentrification.

 

Noise complaints

As the suits in hardhats fade away and the giant Duplo blocks rise up slowly filled by basics so do the noise complaints. It turns out no one expected that living next door to a live venue that plays DnB until 6am would be loud? So, the understandable measure is to allow people to complain about noise levels until a venue shuts down.

We wouldn’t want to put out as the owner of a 1 bed flat that’s £1500pcm, so the council must defend their right to ruin culture. And as noise complaints rise, venues close and the life and soul of the area fades away.

This has been just some of the indicators of gentrification. If you’re struggling to find a £5 pint in Digbeth and a spot of sun not masked by a crane, try not to think of this article too much. Or maybe choose a venue that cares about you at least half as much as they care about profit, while you still can.

Jam Jah Sound At The Station 23.05.22

Words by Reece Greenfield

On Monday night, Mark and I decided to take a stroll down to Jam Jah, at the Station in King’s Heath. Upon arrival we assessed our surroundings, sat down with pints and enjoyed the relaxed and jovial sounds of the band playing and a modest audience’s enthusiastic reception. Despite our nodding heads, we were struck by something… where are the one-drops? Where are the off-beat chords? The authoritative basslines? “All Jam, no Jah!” we thought until realising we were actually at Muso Mondays and that Jam Jah was held in the backroom…

The darkened room lit only by decorative lights hid our flushed cheeks as we entered Jam Jah, but the rumbling bass had us beaming. A DJ was spinning at the back of the room in front of a backdrop of Ethiopian colours, bopping to the roots-reggae riddim. The welcome sound of reggae did not take us by surprise but the wonderful smells of home cooked vegan Caribbean food did. We looked over and saw that it isn’t just the beats that are tasty.

The crowd was small but enthusiastic, and we attributed its size more to the weather and the proximity to payday than the vibe or the appeal of the night. Looking about there was a mixture of head nodding, dancing, and relaxed lounging from Jam Jah’s patrons however they were all unified by a shared enjoyment of what we were all experiencing.

Overall, we felt that Jam Jah is the perfect alternative night on a Monday in Kings Heath, not least due to the welcoming vibe of the evening but the fact that one can flit between there and Muso Monday. On a summer Bank Holiday with the room a bit fuller this may well be the perfect way to spend a Monday… but then again I’m biased. You’ll just have to go and make up your own mind.

For more on Jam Jah Sound visit www.facebook.com/jamjahsound

Flatpack Festival 2022 Takes Over Birmingham City Centre May 17-22

Writers Beth Exley, Emily Doyle & Rachel Westwood/Photographers Katja Ogrin, Emily Doyle & Hassan Ul-Haq

Flatpack Festival is an annual multi-day event that aims to celebrate film in all its form, as well as the intersection between cinema and other kinds of art. Scattered amongst many venues in Birmingham – from the MAC, to Mockingbird, to The Electric – Flatpack is a vibrant cultural event that has something for everybody.

The mobile arts organisation, founded in the early 2000s, has sought to bring together like-minded people, create unforgettable events, and give local artists and filmmakers a vital opportunity to debut and promote their work to new audiences.

This 2022 edition was the first in-person program delivered by Flatpack in three years, and they truly are back with a bang. The program (which by the way is beautifully designed) is full to the brim of exciting and eclectic screenings, performances, and experiences, and is a real testimony to the excellent curatorial approach of the team behind the festival.

ICHI Anime Show (19 May)

At The Printmakers Arms, instrument maker and one-man-band ICHI is showcasing his latest project. You hear him before you see him, teetering in on stilts while playing a harmonica. One of those stilts doubles as a makeshift shamisen, which he later uses to play a song about a mosquito.

ICHI’s performance this evening is split into two sets – the first, a series of short songs on topics as wide ranging as “animals”, “my favourite Chinese restaurant in Japan”, and “a bathroom” – the latter was mostly toothbrushing.

He performs with a clownish sensibility on his host of homemade instruments. Towards the end of this set he sets aside what appears to be a oud with a slinky attached to the back and proceeds to pour a jug of water into the steelpan he’s been playing. It’s deadpan, absurd, and joyous.

ICHI’s second set is a new commission created for Flatpack. He screens a selection of Japanese experimental animated short films from the 60s, 70s, and 80s and performs his new soundtracks live.

Osamu Tezuka’s ‘Jumping’ is accompanied by the bouncing of an exercise ball, while Yoji Kuri’s ‘Love’ is given a new vocal soundtrack with slapstick minimalism.

These works have the tinge of nuclear threat that you’d expect from post-war Japan, and it makes for a much more unsettling set than the first.

Tattered Earth (20 May)

The room is full to the brim with diverse characters in fancy dress and what looks like an explosion of Tat’s signature gags. Piles and piles of charity shop items, namely, Birmingham’s biggest collection of Sideways DVDs, strange-looking vintage kids games, and of course a huge papier-mâché creation of Tat’s head dangling precariously from the ceiling.

“Are you ready?” is heard over a microphone and Tat and his characters enter in WWE-style, setting the perfect tone for the rest of the show.

It’s a pantomime atmosphere at its finest: as the performance begins, audience members are already jeering back at him, interacting at any given opportunity. Overshadowing the stage is a huge projector screen that cycles through a series of clips about the life of Tat, featuring, to my delight, appearances from some Birmingham favourites such as Ruth from Ruth and The Ark, Joe Lycett, and Dion Kitson to name but a few.

The most poignant moment of the introduction is when a ‘Young Tat’ appears on screen sporting a huge brown moustache which quickly elicits raucous laughter from the crowd.

The loosely threaded storyline focused on the antagonists (well established in previous shows) called ‘Lux’ and his plastics. However, this isn’t where the show excelled; the real enjoyment to be had was in watching the performers interact with members of the audience.

Be it responding abruptly to a heckle or calling out a certain Birmingham Review journalist for making them nervous by taking notes on her phone. Certainly not making that mistake again. Pen and paper it is.

Latenight Tales with Cecil Morris (May 20-21)

At the Mockingbird on Saturday night, Cecil Morris presents a double feature of Latenight Tales as part of Flatpack’s new Wonderland project.

Garry Stewart from Recognize Black Heritage Culture organisation hosts the evening, opening with an inspiring Q&A. Morris, a DJ and entrepreneur, tells the audience how he set up a regular late-night slot at the Elite Cinema on Soho Road back in the 1970s to combat the dearth of Black representation in film.

How he discovered Steel Pulse. How he set up his pirate broadcasting operation PCRL and spent twenty years fighting to keep it on the airwaves. When the authorities finally caught up to him and sentenced him to months of community service, he enjoyed it so much that he carried on volunteering with the day centre afterwards.

Morris is magnetic. His story is one of inventiveness, mutual aid, and ultimately a love for cinema. After the talk, he’s curated a typically inventive double bill of Blacula (1972) and, The Dragon, The Hero (1979). Due to the limited films available, back in the Elite Cinema days he’d usually screen one piece of Black cinema followed by one martial arts flick.

With Morris’ reggae selections playing in the interval, Stewart quips that it’s like being back at the Elite, “only with a lot less ganja smoke”.

AIDS on Film: Silverlake Life – The View From Here – Q&A from director, Peter Friedman, and Peter Tatchell (21 May)

I had never heard of Silverlake Life (1993) before looking through the Flatpack programme, however, the phrase ‘AIDS on film’ stood out to me amongst the events as being quite different in tone.

As someone with a keen interest in queer history and particularly in the AIDS epidemic, I decide I should go along. In screen-one of the Mockingbird Cinema, I encounter a deeply sad and harrowing piece of film.

Looking around as the credits roll, it is clear everyone else in here has experienced the same thing – there is not a dry eye in sight.

Silverlake Life was filmed by American director Tom Joslin as a video diary during the last few months of his life as he succumbed to AIDS. It details his beautiful long-term relationship with Mark Rossi, an actor also suffering from AIDS, their life, his medical treatments, and ultimately his death and its immediate aftermath.

Silverlake Life was then finished and edited by his friend and student, Peter Friedman, months after his death.

Friedman talks in the Q&A about how Tom believed in ‘in your face’ film making, and that is the perfect way to describe Silverlake Life.

It shows AIDS in raw and horrifying detail. I would say this film is essential viewing (although I must provide a large content warning as I say this) due to its importance in queer history and its unflinching portrayal of this massive part of global history

Earwig Screening at Mockingbird Cinema (21 May)

Reclining on one of the sofa seats in Mockingbird’s second screen room, I am very excited for Lucile Hadzihalilovic’s Earwig (2021) to begin. We have just been given an introduction by a member of the flatpack team who described it as a ‘body horror nightmare’ which sounds incredibly up my street. I’ve got my popcorn and Dr. Pepper ready and I’m ready for a few screams.

We’re twenty-minutes in and I realise there has not been a single line of dialogue.

Maybe this is too slow a burn for someone with my tiktok addled attention span…

On hearing a description of this film, it sounds like it should be amazing – a strange man who must maintain a little girl’s teeth made of ice? Sign me up. But ultimately, the lack of any discernible narrative or plot made this very difficult for me to enjoy.

Aesthetically it was gorgeous, and the sound design was brilliant, but I think overall, this just kind of went over my head and I’m left feeling confused and dissatisfied as the credits roll.

Although I appreciate the fact Flatpack highlighted this work by a female, French director, it just wasn’t my cup of tea.

Bioinspiration at Flatpack Hub (22 May)

The set up in the flatpack hub for Bioinspiration is very intriguing; there’s a few tables at the far end of the room that take me back to my A Level biology classes. There’s beakers, test tubes, seaweeds, shells, and what looks like microscopes.

To the left, there’s a synth and a record player and then two large projection screens. I’m excited for what I’m about to see.

Chemist Zoe Schnapps, artist Laura Spark and musician Jonathan Hering start their work and I’m immediately taken by it. Schnapps and Spark move cameras around the science equipment, blending close-up visuals of a sea urchin shell, into what I think was snakeskin, and then into seaweed, making a moving natural collage of texture in front of our eyes.

Whilst we watch this on the screen, Hering begins playing the synth inspired by what he sees. I’m reminded of fractal theory by the way droplets in water look like bacteria, and the shells look like mountain formations from an aerial view.

After about half an hour of this mesmerising, sensuous experience, the audience gets to participate in the experimentation. From the children to an elderly couple, everyone excitedly approaches the front.

And I leave feeling connected to nature and inspired by the world we inhabit.

Queen of Hearts: Audrey Flack (22 May)

For my final flatpack event I am back at Mockingbird in the larger screen one. As a long-term fan of photorealist painter Audrey Flack, I was very excited to hear that a couple of her works were being exhibited at Birmingham’s own Ikon earlier in the year.

This excitement was furthered when I saw Queen of Hearts (2020) was being screened at Flatpack.

Having been made shortly before the pandemic and repeated lockdowns, Queen of Hearts has not really had the reception the creators hoped for. The film documents Flack’s life story, artistic process, motherhood, relationships with other artists, and her return to painting after thirty years of not touching a canvas.

It’s a lovely and heart-warming piece that shines light upon an often forgotten and neglected, but significant and influential modernist artist. The way it highlights the specific difficulties of being a woman working within the art world and how her gender impacted her reputation is particularly strong.

Flatpack’s decision to include this documentary in the line-up was a great moment of collaboration between the festival and Ikon. It’s also great to see a female artist, who should be remembered as a pioneer of photorealism, get her dues during her lifetime.

For more from Flatpack Festival and the films they had on offer go to: www.flatpackfestival.org.uk

Robbie Jeffcott Talks Psychedelic Jesuses And Ian Hisblop

Writer Reece Greenfield / Photographer Daisy Richardson

Recently, I caught up with Birmingham born and bread artist (and my drinking buddy) Robbie Jeffcott. In the evening sunshine in his Kings Heath back-garden we quaffed offy-bought tinnies and began to talk about his influences, his processes, and the results… his wonderful art.

“I’m very interested in Realism”, says Robbie. “Chuck Close for example… I am also inspired by graffiti and abstract art and that’s how my style has developed into what it is now… Realism is really impressive that people can do that… I want to put my own spin on that.”

Robbie is also proud to talk of the role his father’s art plays:

“My father passed away when I was young and my Mom had a load of drawings he’d done and it’s basically how I got into art. I thought it was impossible to get his soft tones on pencil, so I used to analyse his drawings and try and replicate them so somewhere I have a load of half down replicas of my father’s drawings.”

I’m interested to find out if there’s a unifying theme, something that Robbie likes to weave through all of his pieces.

“The way I use colours, I use them very mathematically in my head. with the colour wheel, if I want certain bits to pop, I will use the opposite colours so the way I use colour unifies my pieces.

“I really got into colour theory. Once you know how certain colours are perceived you can use them in different ways, for example green and red; red will come forward, green will go backward as green naturally has more depth.”

I know Robbie is an extremely versatile artist, so the specifics are key.

“The one I tend to use the most is acrylic. Acrylic dries super-fast. I can build up layers that way, do a layer, let it dry, build it up, that’s how I get all the chaos going on.”

Having featured on Sky Arts Portrait Artist of The Year 2021, I wanted to know if there were any projects that Robbie thought us fans should be keeping an eye on.

“Oh, I’ve got a good one for ya… I found this big, framed piece of Jesus in a charity shop – it was made out of mesh. I cut the face and hands out and put them onto a psychedelic body and it glows in the dark.

“People theorise that a lot of the Bible could be explained through psychedelics… Moses and the burning bush for example. So, I called it the Holy Quaternity, insinuating that there’s a missing piece.

“I also created these five characters all wearing different hats and I’ve pasted them all round  Digbeth outside independent businesses. I’m doing a treasure hunt, so if you have to tag me and the business and the first one to find all gets a free painting… I thought it would be a fun thing to do, a community thing, it gets people visiting small businesses.”

Anyone who’s walked down Gibb Street recently will no doubt have seen the giant Mike Skinner mural outside Autobrew. It turns out that was the largest piece he’d done and his first real experience with spray paint.

“My mate owns the bar and I said can I paint on that wall? I love that spot and he said he wanted a Birmingham artist, so he decided on Mike Skinner. In my head, it’s still not finished. So, over the next year or so I think I’m just going to keep adding bits on it if I have my pens on me.

“It was the first large scale piece I’d done and normally I’d use paints, but that was massive so I needed to use spray cans – I’d never used that before so that was all new to me.”

And of course I have to ask what it was like on Sky Arts.

“My Mom, for years, had told me to apply for the competition. You had to apply with a portrait of yourself, so I submitted it and got on the show. You have a celebrity sitter and have to paint them… for hours is no time.

“You don’t know who you’re painting until they walk in front of you.”

Well, who was it? None other than “Ian Hislop, ha ha!”

“He’s the worst person to paint ever, he’s got no definition to his face, he’s literally a big blop.”

Between laughs Robbie continues: “But yeah that was a good experience and it got me a lot of exposure. After that show I got a load of commissions in and that’s what kickstarted me to think ok I could actually do this as a job.”

Robbie’s art (including the Ian Hislop timelapse) can be found on his Instagram page @rjeffcott and around Digbeth. If you spot any of his pieces, be sure to tag him on social media and support local artists.

If you like what you see, you can also email rjeffcott1194@gmail.com for any bookings.

Donny Benét Schmoozes At Hare And Hounds 20/05/2022

Writer Harry Croxford / Photographer Erin Connolly

Performing at Hare and Hounds and supported by fellow Aussies, Greatest Hits, Donny Benét’s return to the UK is a triumphant expression of a libidinal, schmoozy, extravagance that has come to define his act, and which has cemented a loyal fanbase since his early days performing with Jack Ladder and The Dreamlanders.

Although sporting a name not particularly accommodating to Google’s search algorithm, Greatest Hits’ support is joyous, danceable, and tightly choreographed. Tracks like ‘Swimming’ shimmer through the funk-driven basslines and percussion, and this sunshine psych-pop sets the scene.

Next, the chants. The repeating chorus of “Donny, Donny, Donny” surges up and out as the man himself – bass in tow – crosses through the crowd and onto the stage.

Then, the outstanding single ‘Working Out’, recognisable to most people familiar with his music. With a bass-tone that sounds almost liquid, Benét is smooth and commanding as he croons:

“Hitting the showers, it’s not my scene / Cos there’s too much meat beneath the steam.”

Benét’s lyrics hit in their absurd sensuality and hilarity, a trait that seems to run like geological mineral veins through much of the recent wave of acts from Australia, with Benét joined varyingly by the likes of Alex Cameron, Kirin J Callinan, and Amyl and the Sniffers.

His schmoozer persona, whiskered and balding, pairs perfectly with his risqué lyrics and eighties aesthetic.

Self-aware of the crudity and sleaze of his song-writing, Benét leans into – or bloody well canoodles – the image he has cultivated over the years. This whiskered, balding, schmoozing, cruising, motel-bar crooner, with enough horny energy to power a Boeing 747, moves effortlessly between tracks.

His image is inseparable from his overall sound. From slap-bass and saxophone to ice-cool keys, tracks like ‘Girl of My Dreams’ have the smooth delightfulness of a Haruomi Hosono pop track.

Meanwhile, the only track from Benét’s recent instrumental EP Le Piano to make the set attests to a musical brilliance. One that recalls much of the contemporary retro wave disco-electronic acts, like Payfone or Makeup and Vanity Set.

It would be great to see more of Benét’s instrumental-electronica on stage.

Despite a general veneer of eighties pastiche, there is a sincerity to Benét’s music: his comedic intermissions – playing off the cologne-soaked schmoozer-type that he has so lovingly crafted – contextualises and sets up each track.

From cheeky and relatable anecdotes about sneaking downstairs for a twilight snack in ‘Second Dinner’, to his looks overtaking his once-youthful once-beautiful friends in ‘Moving Up’, I would have happily paid solely for the man’s chat: a night with Benét perhaps?

I would be doing my hometown a disservice if I were to forgo Benét’s musings on his heritage. Part-Italian, part-English, those few among us in the audience who – let alone merely being aware of Northampton’s geographic location – felt the warm, budding, hand of recognition as Benét tracks down where his carceral forebears hailed from:

“North..hampshire?…Northampton…anyone from Northampton here tonight? Is it a good place to live?”

To which the few Northamptonians responded resoundingly: “NO”’.

A peripheral moment among many in which Benét interacted, responded, and connected to his audience.

From anecdote to crowd interaction, Benét never misses a beat. If this show is anything to go by, up until the very last track of the very last tour date, he’ll still be as rip-roaringly hilarious and marvellous.

You can check out more of Donny Benét’s tunes, and his most recent EP Le Piano here: www.donnybenet.com

For more from the Hare and Hounds go to: www.hareandhoundskingsheath.co.uk