Even in Scotland, I'm not safe. Stop following me, you latté luggers!
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Saturday, July 24, 2010
Friday, July 23, 2010
Goin' Glaswegian/17
Richmond, meet your kindred spirit. Glasgow, too, is a biking city.Check out stylish blog merchandise at http://cafepress.com/givemepaisley.
Goin' Glaswegian/16
A girl gets busy in Glasgow. A week has already galloped past since my last post. I've been hopping around a lot since then. I climbed about half of Ben Nevis, Scotland's tallest mountain, watched a Chinese film at the Glasgow Film Theatre ("In the Mood for Love"), visited Linlithgow, saw the Glasgow Botanic Garden, participated in two art shows, made a music video, and more! Just when I thought I could take a breath, I realized that I'm leaving in only a bit more than ONE DAY. It's hard to imagine that only seven days I go I dipped into my first Scottish dance party.
The Courtyard, a pub/club on West Nile Street, hosted the affair. Big Foot, a DJ/VJ club of sorts, put on the show. They called it a tea party. I saw no tea, but I did see free BBQ. I even had my first brush with a Scot's take on an American hamburger.
Here are some of the photos I took and the people I met as techno pounded at my ears and innards:
Specimen #1: Calum Sutherland describes himself as being somewhere between age 22 and 25. Apparently nobody really knows. Maybe he's a Glaswegian Romulus. Or maybe he's just a smart-ass. What is certain is that he's been a producer for Big Foot since late 2009. When he and the rest of the Big Foot gang lived in Aberdeen, they clubbed many a night together. All that clubbing experience allowed them to study the scene and even prompted them to do their part in improving it. By "improving," Calum means holding dance parties outside instead of in dank basements; playing original video art; and feeding folks. When Calum's friends moved to Glasgow for its techno life, he eventually followed. Now he helps them out on the administrative side. This involves doing everything from writing blurbs for Big Foot posters to driving around guest DJs to publicizing "tea parties" in local magazines. Not a bad gig for an ex-English major, huh?
Okay, so you know what a DJ is, but what's a VJ? Answer: A video DJ. That's what Big Foot's George Russell is. He's the guy who literally animates a techno party. From looping original work to playing with found footage, George brings visuals to a scene that's mostly associated with sound. He loves merging the capabilities of cameras, computers, and printers for unique VJ pieces. In creating all these images, George tries to build a narrative that matches the sets Big Foot DJs have planned for that evening. Honestly, I can't say monitors usually factor into Richmond DPs. What a pleasant surprise! Though 'pleasant' may be too bland of a word to describe some of those bizarre collages. I seem to recall a cartoon penis in Little Girl Cotton Candy Land...
Behold Big Foot tea partiers "BBQ Dad/Pappa Walks/Walker" and Stascia Bantouvakis! BBQ Dad spent the evening grilling burgers, chicken, and veggies for scores of starving twenty-somethings. He appreciated feeling like an Alpha Male, and hopes to one day BBQ lobsters. Miss Bantouvaskis, on the other hand, spent the night looking pretty. Just one of many well-dressed ladies at the shindig, Stascia throws together duds from online stores and charity shops (that's what they call thrift shops in the UK). She considers Glasgow fashion "hippiesque," as well as "nice and diverse." She observed that her peers often show off their socks as part of their style; Glasgow's usually too cold for bare legs. Lastly, she hates Kate Moss and, as a half-Greek, admits she's not into kilts.
So, that's a slice of Big Foot from last weekend. Who knows how I'll spend this one! Today is my final Friday in Scotland. Soon I'll be bidding farewell to the ultimate fairy tale world. Until then, I'll relish my last several hours in my fantasy study abroad program.
The Courtyard, a pub/club on West Nile Street, hosted the affair. Big Foot, a DJ/VJ club of sorts, put on the show. They called it a tea party. I saw no tea, but I did see free BBQ. I even had my first brush with a Scot's take on an American hamburger.
Here are some of the photos I took and the people I met as techno pounded at my ears and innards:
Specimen #1: Calum Sutherland describes himself as being somewhere between age 22 and 25. Apparently nobody really knows. Maybe he's a Glaswegian Romulus. Or maybe he's just a smart-ass. What is certain is that he's been a producer for Big Foot since late 2009. When he and the rest of the Big Foot gang lived in Aberdeen, they clubbed many a night together. All that clubbing experience allowed them to study the scene and even prompted them to do their part in improving it. By "improving," Calum means holding dance parties outside instead of in dank basements; playing original video art; and feeding folks. When Calum's friends moved to Glasgow for its techno life, he eventually followed. Now he helps them out on the administrative side. This involves doing everything from writing blurbs for Big Foot posters to driving around guest DJs to publicizing "tea parties" in local magazines. Not a bad gig for an ex-English major, huh?
Okay, so you know what a DJ is, but what's a VJ? Answer: A video DJ. That's what Big Foot's George Russell is. He's the guy who literally animates a techno party. From looping original work to playing with found footage, George brings visuals to a scene that's mostly associated with sound. He loves merging the capabilities of cameras, computers, and printers for unique VJ pieces. In creating all these images, George tries to build a narrative that matches the sets Big Foot DJs have planned for that evening. Honestly, I can't say monitors usually factor into Richmond DPs. What a pleasant surprise! Though 'pleasant' may be too bland of a word to describe some of those bizarre collages. I seem to recall a cartoon penis in Little Girl Cotton Candy Land...
Behold Big Foot tea partiers "BBQ Dad/Pappa Walks/Walker" and Stascia Bantouvakis! BBQ Dad spent the evening grilling burgers, chicken, and veggies for scores of starving twenty-somethings. He appreciated feeling like an Alpha Male, and hopes to one day BBQ lobsters. Miss Bantouvaskis, on the other hand, spent the night looking pretty. Just one of many well-dressed ladies at the shindig, Stascia throws together duds from online stores and charity shops (that's what they call thrift shops in the UK). She considers Glasgow fashion "hippiesque," as well as "nice and diverse." She observed that her peers often show off their socks as part of their style; Glasgow's usually too cold for bare legs. Lastly, she hates Kate Moss and, as a half-Greek, admits she's not into kilts.
So, that's a slice of Big Foot from last weekend. Who knows how I'll spend this one! Today is my final Friday in Scotland. Soon I'll be bidding farewell to the ultimate fairy tale world. Until then, I'll relish my last several hours in my fantasy study abroad program.Check out stylish blog merchandise at http://cafepress.com/givemepaisley.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Goin' Glaswegian/15
Oh, Arbroath--you wee town on the sea, how I love thee (I should say it not one time or even two times but three)! Four days away from the spit and drizzle of Glasgow healed me. I love urban life, I truly do. Yet a spoonful of nature every now and then is like my castor oil. I saw more of the real, homey Scotland and even had the chance to stay at the historic Hospitalfield house. Breathing salty air and conning McDonald's into giving me cardboard to make a bonfire on the beach were just two aspects of my oceanside adventure. I also welcomed a combination of rocky shores, snail colonies, a pastel trailer park, bargain-worthy thrift shops, and flavorful home-cookin'.
The DMV can't really lay claim to anything like a British fishing village. That's more of New England's brag bag. Annapolis and a few joints in the Eastern Shore are our shady equivalents. We own up to a different kind of charm, though. It usually involves crabs, not smokies, and drawls, not brogues. That's why I flew all the way here: to experience novelties, not more of the same.
Arbroath certainly blew freshness in my face. As exciting as Glasgow is, it's not too far from my American environment. There's a KFC, an Urban Outfitter's, and even Hannah Montana gear every which way. Evidence of blatant Americanization in Arbroath? Not too much...though my professor did say that if we got lost, all we had to do was follow the sea and turn right at the McDonald's to return to Hospitalfield.
"Would you like chips with that?"
Photos by Christine Stoddard.
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Thursday, July 08, 2010
Goin' Glaswegian/14
Photo by Christine Stoddard.
I stumbled across this dead gull on my way to the famous sculptural garden, Little Sparta. It reminded me of my mortality and the importance of living in the moment. It also reminded me of the West Nile virus craze we experienced in D.C. a couple years ago. Oh, and the fact that I should always eat my fruits and vegetables...
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Tuesday, July 06, 2010
Goin' Glaswegian/13
Another reason why I'm so infatuated with Escosia? Unicorns dominate the scenery, even in the plainest of street corners. In DMV, statues of powerful white men are far more common. I'll take the mystical horses, thank you.
Photos by Christine Stoddard.
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Monday, July 05, 2010
Goin' Glaswegian/12
Photo by Christine Stoddard.
When many people discover I'm from the Washington, D.C. area, they comment upon what a "beautiful" and "scenic" city it is. While I believe this to be true, I recognize that D.C. is merely an imitation of even more picturesque European cities. One of these cities includes Edinburgh, the Helen of Troy of all the urban centers I've ever seen. My eyes are still recovering from all the blindingly pretty nooks and crannies. (Actually, the only reason I'm able to type up this post is because I'm relying upon the generosity of a Scottish gnome. He's not too bad with dictation!)
Photo by Christine Stoddard.
Photo by Christine Stoddard.
Photo by Christine Stoddard.
Photo by Nina Starfish.
Photo by Christine Stoddard.
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