July means it's time for the annual Monocle Quality of Life survey, one of my annual obsessions that is on par with snacks and beer while watching Eurovision and Panettone any time we get near to Christmas.
Moncole's Top 25 listing always sets off debate, and its metrics, although somewhat subjective, consistently represent Moncole's own take on what a good city represents. Monocle themselves know that their metrics system will, for the large part, render many of the world's best known cities ineligible for consideration. It's the kind of ranking that makes urbanists cry and sparks debate. But Monocle's list, beyond pitting city against city, reflects the aspirations of its readers. This year, longtime Monocle favourite, Tokyo, has been awarded the title of the most liveable city. During my time in Japan I always saw Tokyo as being a great place to visit: even if I, a self confessed popular culture junkie whose idea of porn is barebacking gallery after gallery and then reaching the point where I say F*ck Art, Let's Dance, personally favoured the greenery and fresh air of my adopted hometown of Kyoto. I've always been of the mind that I need ready access to culture, but that I'm not prepared to put myself in a position where everything else has to suffer to make that possible. Thankfully, as a Monocle reader, Kyoto regularly figures on their list (#14 this year) as does my actual hometown, Melbourne, which polled at #4 this year. Despite its problems with affordability, Melbourne has tended to perform well on all kinds of liveability indexes. (Melbournians might not have an internationally known landmark to remind you about, but most will know that their city was 2014's top ranking city on the Economist's Intelligence Unit's list for the fourth year running.) I guess these kinds of lists are good for boasting purposes and a good shot of self esteem. In addition to heightening awareness of quality of urban life, these lists give residents the sense that they are part of a community which is somehow getting things right. It's an important shot in the arm for second cities like Melbourne. These are places that are like the uglier, younger sister. They have chips on their shoulder because they're always the Solange, not the Beyonce of the family. In Melbourne's case, much work was done in the nineties to set about rebranding the city as a cultural and foodie capital. Tourism there didn't catch up to that until a decade or so later. It is now a domestic tourist's dream (often the top domestic destination in Australia) even if it's still often overshadowed by the natural beauty of its northern rival Sydney. Often, the cities that find themselves doing well on these lists are not typically tourist friendly places. As a tourist in Australia I think you're more likely to see the Australia of your dreams if you go north, or to Sydney if you prefer the city + beach mix. Melbourne is a bit low on the picture postcard, sun + sand index that Australians and certain types of tourists value so highly. Italy, as its general prominence in Monocle attests, remains of incredible appeal to urbanists, as a place to visit. You know, the Tirol mountains, the leather ateliers of Tuscany, the bespoke tailors in Milan...that kind of thing. Having now lived in Italy for five and a half years, I can tell you that Italians often have their nose out of joint when it comes to these kinds of lists, because, nationally, there is sense that they, despite the cultural wealth of their country, are often the Michelle to the Beyonce and Kelly of France and Germany. Liveability lists and international wine awards do their head in. They may have given up on the idea that one of their cities will ever place highly, but man, do they get upset when an Italian wine is not a winner! Italy has so much going for it, particularly when it comes to natural beauty and historic sites. Italian cities are tourist meccas: I can't think of any other country in the world that can offer up such a varied trifecta like Rome, Venice and Florence. But Italian cities are not advertisements for infrastructure and services. They're great for tourists, and, erm, not so great for residents. Loveable but not always liveable cities. Sexy, but sometimes...what's the word I'm looking for... oh, that's right... insane. Places that will take your breath away as a 2 or 3 day tourist, but that will clog your lungs with smog if you decided to stay on and live there. (I blame you Julia Roberts). And so, when Monocle et al lists come out, the press here do their best to redress the rankings by spinning out some PR even though their daily stories are always about how bad things are. The reality is that liveability in Italy is about renouncing the larger cities. You have to be quite Zen about the fact that no matter where you go in this country, you're likely to be bound by red tape and a lack of transparency, but that if you're willing to adapt some of your own metrics, you'll come out on top. Only a handful of Italy's northern cities do well on the standard metrics of scale: (I'm thinking Trieste). But few people actually want to live there when they could live somewhere like Rome or Milan. I mean, these cities, like Naples are like the disfunctional rock stars of the family. They drive you nuts but you just hang on their every word. People know what they're getting into when they move to a place like Rome. I don't think anyone ever moved to Rome thinking it was going to be a smooth ride (except maybe Julia Roberts in Eat, Pray, Love). You move there knowing full well that it's going to be a shit fight, but you accept it because of all of the wonders that the city has to offer. I'm living in Puglia now, and it was a move I made knowing full well that it meant sacrificing the charm that Rome has. It's clear that you can very rarely have it all. But I'm digging Puglia because, despite its problems and the fact that outside of the peak summer season you're a bit off the cultural map here, it is now finding itself in a place where a city like Melbourne was about twenty years ago. It's looking at itself and deciding that something has to change. That its growing up. More and more its becoming receptive to the idea of being re-branded as a cultural and foodie haven. Do a google search and you'll see just how successful this campaign is becoming internationally. Puglia is one of the few regions in Italy that knows it has to do more to compete for the tourist dollar than to rely on its treasures (in this case, its impressive beaches.) And so, as a result of this campaign to deepen its cultural offerings and awareness, things are changing here for residents too. There's more emphasis on slow food, on cultural events and on promoting its quite distinct cultural identity. The residents of its most important cities, Bari and Lecce, are finding that the choices open to them are widening as a result. There's still much to be done though. Puglia's poor and agricultural history contributed to so much of its current beauty, both socially and geographically. But it also left its mark in the lack of infrastructure, particularly in transport, and the economic challenges that remain in the region. Over the coming weeks I'll take a look at some of the start ups and activities that are taking place here in a bid to raise quality of life and help locals take more pride in their surroundings and heritage. I might miss the accessibility of art and live music that I had in Rome, but then again, I'm ten minutes away from the beach, I've got more vegetarian food options when I go out than I ever had in Rome (thank you cucina povera!) and, as an Australian at heart, the wide open spaces and sky here do more for my quality of life than Rome's edginess ever did. I'll just wait for the tourist season to kick in to let me get the rest of my fixes. So, through my seachange I've found my quality of life for now. But I'm curious...what does quality of life mean for you?
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Thanks so much for having swung by and visited this blog! This little tiger really appreciates the fact you've come by.
Feel free to stick your head in and comment, or contact me via the contact details on the side column. In the meantime, if you're new to the blog, or haven't popped by in a while, here's a round up of some of the recent, longer pieces that might be of interest to you. You'll find them on the previous pages, plopped in between photo essays and some much shorter pieces. * Fight the fight for Darren Hayes' criminally neglected, double disc opus. * Always denied of them, but the Pet Shop Boys, at least one time around, should've had a very real contender on their hands for album of the year. * Why is the Western media mocking, and not trying to understand the pop culture that is emerging around ISIS? * Melbourne artist Damon Kowarsky has a collaborative show on at Australia's Islamic Museum. I speak with him here and the second part of our interview is here. * Why do we continue to ignore Roisin Murphy? * Cultural appropriation standing in the way of M.I.A? This is what we're reduced to? * So the publicity campaign has gone ass up, but what did you expect? Rebel Heart Madonna is nineties Madonna all over again. Henry Rollins. Underrated, unpredictable leftie punk...his revelations might just surprise you.
Lenny Kravitz. Cool, understated, rock/sex god type. Trains his Leica on the paparazzi and, presto, we get Flash, a photo book from his efforts. May LoFi live on. Nick Cave. Dark, tortured, theology loving type publishes again. The Sick Bag Song. Bruce Springsteen gets covered... by Hot Chip! Sometimes I think you just need to be late to the party, particularly when it comes to a good read. It's all about the timing sometimes.
I've been getting into some of John Niven's work lately, a bit after the fact, but I'm here now... Kill Your Friends has already been adapted into a film and will hit cinema screens from November onwards and I read it a few months' back and loved it so much that I've hunted down all Niven's other works in the meantime. Niven's backstory is that he worked in A&R in the record industry for over a decade. The bio that gets trotted around indicates that he took a pass on Coldplay and Muse (thank god there is someone in the world who had the foresight to say no to those guys :p), but the reality is he knows the music industry inside out, and writes in a way that makes it relateable. You'll love Kill Your Friends: it's the music industry mentality stripped bare, with some garish violence, humour and, Niven's other trademark, satire in spades. He's written other novels too, but I've jumped straight to The Second Coming, which is kind of like an indie Jesus Christ Superstar meets Life of Brian meets American Idol. I think it's a pretty courageous attempt at a really loaded topic done in Niven's style: more cutting social commentary, humour and satire all over the place. The idea is that JC gets sent back to present day earth, and finds his platform via an American Idol kind of franchise. The world's not the same these days, and so it's interesting to pit the observations that Niven makes against an uncaring and unfeeling background. Perhaps Niven bit off more than he could chew with this one, but on the other side, perhaps our modern day brains dismiss the ideas as being a tad bit twee every now and then. But overall if you're looking for something that is mostly refreshing, loaded with pop culture references with a dash of violence to keep you turning those pages, then you'll find much to love and be nice about. I guess we're long past the point where kissing a religious statue and bringing it to life is enough to create controversy, but still not at the point where we have evolved beyond "the church's" sphere of influence. Here's the latest chapter in the saga, but without the soft drink commercial to go with it.
'Average man' committed to the traditional definition of marriage pens note indicating that he will have no choice but to divorce should gay marriage be legalised in Australia. I'm not even going to bother to link to the original "letter", published and earning the front page of the Canberra city rag. If you want the background, visit here instead. Suffice to say, that the "newspaper" in question knew full well the brouhaha that would explode in publishing that letter, and to capitalize on it no less, made the decision to annoint the opinion piece the position of cover story. Internet loses its shit over it, and couple unanimously considered to be a pair of dicks. What's more disturbing about this, a typical right wing divisive stunt, is that the city rag made no attempt to clarify the links of the writer to the Australian Christian Lobby, nor to mention that Mr Jensen, he who values his marriage so much that he is ready to divorce for social political reason, is actually Reverend Jensen. Shady all round. Watched an endearing and tidy little film last night. In Italian it's known as In Grazia di Dio, while it's been retitled as Quiet Bliss for the English market.
The film, set in this region, il Salento, was selected for the 2014 Berlin Film Festival. It's the story of a family, who in the face of bankruptcy are forced to sell up and move to their dilapidated old farm and find a new way and economy in dealing with every day life. The director, local boy, Edoardo Winspeare (hello, greatest name ever), in attendance at last nights screening, courtesy of Visioni Paranoique, explained that beyond the film's indirect take on the current financial crisis, and on the hovering vultures who are always floating around to take advantage of someone else's difficulty, the film was an attempt at slow film. It's filmed in its entirety in the agro-rural region of Lecce, with the cast and crew pretty much all locals, locations and post done in the region, and funding sourced by local sponsors and investors. If you're curious about how life in the south east of Italy looks, you could do worse than tracking this one down. It has a lot going for it, it's well written and acted, and culturally, it doesn't get much more Salentino than this film. Enjoy. Howard Arkley was a Melbourne painter who came to prominence in the nineties, lending his airbrush technique to all kinds of daily snapshots and suburban scenes.
He was an artist of such promise that he was eventually selected to represent Australia at the Venice Biennale in 1999. He died the same year, aged 22, the cause attributed to a heroin overdose. In his short career he made inbounds. He was widely tipped to become a major Australian artist, and although he never lived to expand on and build his repertoire he remains a significant figure in Australian art. The National Gallery of Victoria (NGV) even hosted a retrospective of his works in 2006. His work has gotten some attention in recent days, not because it is being reassessed, but because one of his works in particular is to be acquired by the gallery. The gallery has had a similar work to the one in the image above, on loan to it from its owner, gallerist Rob Gould, a friend of Arkley's, who is now prepared to sell the work to the gallery at a non market rate. This presumably is motivated in part by the idea of keeping Arkley's legacy and legitimacy as an artist alive for future generations. The undisclosed amount that needs to be secured is being collected by the NGV's fund raising arm. What has got some of the press all stirred up is the fact that the NGV in recent days has embarked on a kind of direct email crowd funding campaign with its sponsors and donors. Arkley's work recorded a record sale amount last year, so the logic behind the NGV buying a work that it already has "in reserve" (and in its storage collection) to at a presumably reduced price is strong. Donors and sponsors like clear goals, and clearly the NGV believes it is capable of securing the work from their donations. And ongoing, one would think that this process will continue to be used by galleries: it's not in their best interests to overuse the system, but it will appeal to donors who will like the idea of somehow contributing to the kinds of works that enter the public collections. I'm feeling nostalgic towards the month long trip to India I took in the nineties. The only way I think I'm going to get over it is to give in and purchase this. Ambassador cars. How brilliant were they? And more to the point how brilliant was Raghubir Singh? Not sure? Start here to make up your own mind about his work.
I'm an unabashed pop lover, but let's face it, these days its getting harder to impress my little beating pop heart.
I feel like pop, in recent years has become a bit of a ladies game. Not a bad thing at all, especially when there are so many great female pop acts around. Making the distinction is redundant, I don't really care what gender we ascribe to great music makers, but that said, sometimes I have a yearning for a bit more of a male perspective in pop from acts that I can relate to. In order to get that little black pop heart of mine beating, I also need something more than a hooky ear worm. Straightforward pop doesn't really cut the mustard for me these days. I need something smart and funky. Ideally that I can find on an album that switches genres like there's no tomorrow to keep me on the ball. And to that end, I've got a soft spot for Dan Black: not because we share a birthday, but because to my mind he's got a talent for hopping across genres like few others. His [[UN]] album (2009/2010) is one of my all time favourite albums. Mind you it doesn't come as much of a surprise: it's the work of a studio boffin who is credited for having created much of the album on his own in an apartment basement. I consider Dan something of a neo-romantic. You know, if you could imagine that the new romantics of the early eighties ever reincarnated for modern times, they would do so by soaring over this generation's heartbreak in Dan Black like form. They'd be smart and self sufficient musos whose edgy songs bristle with great melodies and with lyrics that will leave you with a wry smile on your face. As with the greatest wonky pop releases, UN found success in some markets but was criminally ignored by most of the masses. You've probably heard the lead track Symphonies which took Rihanna and Jay Z's admittedly already fab Umbrella and recast it as something completely different and brilliant and whose video was a breath of fresh air. Dan Black's talent for bending and reinventing widely recognised sounds was what led me to discovering him in the first place: through his mixtape which was circulating in 2010, I stumbled across his breakthrough moment. A moment born from the idea of putting Kate Bush and Madonna together into a blender, layering himself over them and seeing what came out the other side. The result? This epic piece. But beyond his abilities to mix and add value to pop staple pieces, on UN, his debut solo album, Dan has a way of combining his own pretty heartfelt observations with fresh sounds. Check out Wonder for his take on wistful pop, or Alone for some grubby funk inspired romanticism. Want something a little more passive aggressive? Well, the electro pop of Yours has your name written all over it. Since UN there have been a few singles and a mix tape, including another almost crossover moment: this one featuring Kelis and paired with an innovative video. But Dan Black fans are in wait for UN's perpetually delayed/postponed follow up. When will it arrive? Who knows? But let's just say that pop could do with a nice shot in the arm from this wonkypop making neo-romantic. In the meantime, go and discover UN and see what all my fuss is about. It's held up really well over time and remains a favourite. |
Dave
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Dave Di Vito is a writer, teacher and former curator.He's also the author of the Vinyl Tiger series and Replace The Sky.
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