News Holland Architecture - Glenn Murcutt

There's a lot to like about Glenn Murcutt. His working philosophy of sympathetic architecture. Buildings that quietly nestle, happy to take a backseat to a commanding landscape. His life-long quest to understand indigenous culture. The seed was planted in New Guinea and propagated well into his life in Australia. His refusal to work overseas. Rejecting huge commissions because "I wouldn't have understood the whole essence...". I guess it's akin to dressmaking without measurements. His magnetic father. An environmental tyrant who made Glenn and his brother eat the 60 fish they had caught in brotherly competition. It was to be a lesson in waste and depleting natural supplies. He is one of our most revered architects yet he has no secretary, no PA, no staff, no mobile.

He has an exhibition at the moment at the Museum of Sydney. He is giving a talk this Friday night.

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News Holland Music - Bill Callahan

I love a break up album. Beck, Seachange; Elliot Smith, XO; John Lennon, Mind Games (kinda); and of course, most famously Bob Dylan, Blood on the Tracks. Nothing spawns inspiration like a broken heart. Happiness is boring. Give me ravaged, tortured souls destroyed by wayward lovers any day. Bill Callahan's second solo album, Sometimes I Wish We Were an Eagle, could be a break up album. Rumour has it he broke up with Joanna Newsom not long before recording this album, and that's gotta hurt. We all know his voice - it's deep, it's very deep. It jumps out at you as if he is there in the room. It is the perfect conduit for his dark and brooding style of storytelling. He slowly meanders through a childlike fascination with animals and nature, stopping occasionally to reflect on love and loss. The music is there, the instrumentals are beautiful, but it's hard to concentrate and anything but that voice, that sad and broken voice. Perhaps that's why his first solo album Woke on a Whaleheart didn't work for me. I think he was in love. With Joanna.

Kool Thing

Image courtesy of Mini Rodini

When did kids wear get so freaking cool? Today I found myself double-glancing at a five year old thinking 'wow, love the way you've put that together'. It was a quirky ensemble, part Antwerp deconstructionist, part French cool. And it's not the first time I've had wardrobe envy from a kid. Why, who would have thought my very own child would own a Philip Lim piece before me? It's not just an extension of supremely stylish mummies and daddies, indeed it's more common to see a designer-clad kid strutting ahead while his tired and frumpy mother tries to keep up. Skinny jeans in japanese denims, organic cotton logo tees, motif hoodies and vintage-style prairie dresses, to mention but a few. Are we living now vicariously through our children, or has dressing them become a creative outlet? Either way, the retailers are loving it and have been quick to capitalise on the trendy trend. My expensive Danish cot came with a tag-line, something along the lines of 'nurture good taste from the beginning'... of course i fell for it.

Play the Game

Image courtesy of Rush PR

The motto at my leafy, suburban primary school was 'play the game', a good strong, thought-provoking slogan (although the double entendre was lost on me and I developed an unhealthy obsession with sport).

Whoever selected it, back in 1891, no doubt did so with an innocent mind, wanting his students to relish in opportunities presented and have a well-rounded education and life. These days, to successfully 'play the game' one usually resorts to trickery and dirty tactics. From Australia's Next Top Model to Federal politics, the players are ruthless in their pursuit for the top. It's become less about camaraderie and more about ambition. And nowhere is this more relevant than in politics where yesterday Kevin Rudd, once again played the game. By amending their carbon emissions scheme, Rudd and his ministers have politically compromised by trying to appease two sides. Delaying the scheme by 12 months and thereby mollifying the Coalition, while increasing the target to a more environmentally acceptable 25 per cent by 2020, is some shifty politics. Surely, an amendment the opposition leader can't pass up on, and cleverly designed to refocus attention on a cornered Turnbull. Of course he will pass and the environment and climate change will become the marinated vegies in this bitter, political sandwich. If only the contestants on Australia's Next Top Model were this clever.

The autonomy of eponymy

As a fashion publicist I grew tired of writing, "her eponymous label" or "his eponymous line" as more and more designers took to naming their brands after themselves. Indeed, at this year's Australian Fashion Week only six labels of the 40 holding individual shows are not related to the designer's name. It's not a new trend, (in fact eponymy dates back to the ancient Greeks, who would attribute rulers and politicians to their presiding era) and is certainly not confined to fashion. From Peter, Paul and Mary to Peter, Bjorn and John, musicians have long been self-titling, and if it's not the band name it's the album (Wilco's latest is called "Wilco the Album").

It's most dangerous in fashion though, where the designer is clearly saying this label is the embodiment of me. On the upside these 'owner-occupied' businesses allow creative freedom and a certain autonomy. But, whether they like it or not, designers become 24 hour brand ambassadors, and are often seen more as public identities than working designers. In most cases they self promote pretty well, (I've never seen anyone wear sass+bide as well as the girls do. Likewise Kirrily Johnston and Marnie Skillings), but it must put great pressure on the designers. It does get a tad boring though, especially when designers continue to reinvent themselves under the same eponymous label. For a more origninal, and slightly irreverent take, perhaps it should be Wayne Cooper 1, Wayne Cooper 2, and so on...

A luddite no more

Image courtesy of Amanda Woodward

As I feverishly await the return of my husband (he's been overseas for five weeks) I am reminded at what I have achieved in his absence. In between caring for my seven month old baby, general housekeeping and walking the dog, I've turned to technology for company. I've registered on facebook; legally and illegally downloaded music; updated my itunes; linked my two electronic calendars (in fact synchronised my entire iphone with my laptop); downloaded images from my camera, onto said laptop; and started this very blog. Needless to say, I am technologically spent. Perhaps it's my current exclusion from the workforce that has me craving communication. Perhaps it's me proving I can cope without my partner (who has always controlled the uploads). Either way it's been rather liberating. Let's hope the federal government's national broadband proposal gets the green light, as if I can feel excommunicated in the inner city, god knows how the country folk are feeling...

News Holland Photography - Carol Jerrems

"Vale St". Image courtesy of National Gallery of Australia

The first time I heard of Carol Jerrems was some years ago when I stumbled across a late night documentary on SBS. I felt an instant resonance with her work, a youthful reflection of life in 70s Australia, a time characterised by social change and a generational revolution. Jerrems used her work to document the turbulence and quickly developed her signature style. This included group shots of friends and lovers in raw and realistic settings. Urban indigenous groups and strong women feature heavily in her works, as well as other sub cultures such as sharpie gangs (which I've recently learned were an anti hippy and mods cult movement), proving she didn't let her own ideologies dictate her work. Sadly, Jerrems died before her 31st birthday of a rare cancer. All her works were bequeathed to the National Gallery of Australia.