#movie theatres christchurch

[cinemanz]

How Movie Theatres Are Adapting to Changing Viewing Habits?

 In an era dominated by streaming services and on-demand content, traditional movie theatres are facing the challenge of evolving to meet the changing needs and preferences of audiences. 

However, far from fading into obscurity, movie theatres are proving to be resilient entities, finding innovative ways to attract patrons and enhance the cinematic experience. Let's explore how Christchurch movie theatres are adapting to these shifting viewing habits.

Creating Immersive Experiences

One of the key strategies movie theatres are employing to stay relevant is offering immersive experiences that cannot be replicated at home. From state-of-the-art sound systems to larger-than-life screens, movie theatres are investing in technologies that enhance the cinematic journey. 

Whether it's the thrill of watching an action-packed blockbuster or the awe-inspiring visuals of cutting-edge animation, movie theatres are committed to delivering an experience that goes beyond what can be achieved in a living room.

Diversifying Content

Recognising the diverse interests of audiences, movie theatres are expanding their repertoire beyond mainstream Hollywood releases. Independent films, foreign cinema, documentaries, and niche genres are finding a home on the big screen, catering to a wide range of tastes. 

By diversifying their content offerings, movie theatres are not only attracting new audiences but also fostering a sense of community among film enthusiasts.

Enhancing Comfort and Convenience

Gone are the days of uncomfortable seating and long lines at the concession stand. Today's movie theatres are prioritising comfort and convenience, with plush recliners, reserved seating options, and gourmet food offerings becoming increasingly common. 

Additionally, advancements in online ticketing and mobile apps have streamlined the movie theatre experience, allowing patrons to skip the queues and enjoy a hassle-free outing.

Embracing Technology

Technology is playing a significant role in the evolution of movie theatres. From digital projection systems to virtual reality experiences, Christchurch movie theatres are leveraging technology to captivate audiences in new and exciting ways. 

Interactive lobby displays, augmented reality games, and immersive pre-show experiences are just a few examples of how movie theatres are embracing the digital age to create memorable moments for moviegoers.

Fostering Community Engagement

Movie theatres are more than just venues for watching films—they are hubs for cultural exchange and community engagement. Through special events, film festivals, and Q&A sessions with filmmakers, movie theatres are fostering connections between audiences and the art of cinema. 

By actively engaging with their communities, movie theatres cultivate loyal followings and solidify their place as cultural institutions.

Adapting to Hybrid Models

In response to the rise of streaming platforms, some movie theatres are embracing hybrid models that combine traditional theatrical releases with simultaneous digital releases. By offering flexibility and choice to audiences, movie theatres are staying competitive in an increasingly crowded marketplace. 

Whether it's through day-and-date releases or exclusive theatrical windows, movie theatres are finding ways to coexist with streaming services while preserving the magic of the big-screen experience.

Conclusion

Movie theatres are undergoing a transformation to meet the evolving needs of modern audiences. By prioritising immersive experiences, diversifying content, enhancing comfort and convenience, embracing technology, fostering community engagement, and adapting to hybrid models, Christchurch movie theatres are not only surviving but thriving in an ever-changing landscape. 

So, the next time you're in the mood for a cinematic adventure, consider stepping out to your local movie theatre and rediscovering the magic of the silver screen.

[denimbex1986]

'Cillian Murphy, star of the hit movie "Oppenheimer," proudly hails from Cork and co-founded the Sounds from a Safe Harbour music festival, running this year in Cork City from September 7 - 10.

All eyes are currently on Murphy for his powerful portrayal of the “father of the atomic bomb” in the Christopher Nolan blockbuster "Oppenheimer."

Murphy, the much-lauded Cork actor who now lives in Dublin, is also a talented and passionate musician. In fact, as a teenager, Murphy had a band that was offered a record deal, but when things didn’t work out, he turned his attention to acting.

However, Murphy didn’t leave his love of music behind and went on to co-found the Sounds from a Safe Harbour biennial festival of music, dance, art, theatre, and conversation, which takes place in Cork City this year, September 7 - 10.

The festival has a particular focus on new works, collaborations, and shared experiences.

Among the artists performing at Sounds from a Safe Harbour are Chicago band Wilco, Bonny Light Horseman with the RTÉ Concert Orchestra, and Crash Ensemble, Ireland’s leading new music ensemble who play adventurous, ground-breaking, contemporary music.

Additionally, the Irish premiere of Murphy's short film "All of this Unreal Time" will be hosted at Triskel Christchurch on September 8, followed by Q&A session with members of the creative team.

Murphy's Sounds from a Safe Harbour music festival is one more reason to visit Co Cork...'

[lavelled]

voted most lightly.

Kamala & Tim

Kamala Harris has soared in the race shakeup. Whether skillfully debating taunts and personal attacks, advocating for fundamental freedoms and justice for all people, especially women, or at home with her family, Kamala gives America’s place on the world stage the authenticity and intelligible policy positions we need. She has the vitality to blaze a trail for brighter days. I will be casting my vote for Kamala and Tim in the 2024 Presidential Election.

Pretentious Ambition

Meg is reworking something: She hates Harry. When did she realize she was used for wombed monetization, when he paid her? Was it at the Women’s Empowerment Reception at the Royal Aeronautical Society, Royal Ascot races, Polo Club matches, Wimbledon matches, movie premieres, concerts, Netflix miniseries, Bondi Beach, Australian Geographic Society Awards, a speech on women’s suffrage in New Zealand, British Ambassador’s Residence Party, at the Kennedy Human Rights Awards, her Archewell Audio Podcasts, her published father-and-son children’s book, Gloria Steinem chat, 2018 British Fashion Awards, King of Morocco meeting, baby shower at The Mark Penthouse in New York, visiting the site where 19-year-old student, Uyinene Mrwetyana, was raped and murdered when she picked up a box at the post office in Cape Town, which, as FedEx actress, must’ve been improv theatre, at the Mountbatten Festival of Music, kissing Harry in Colombia then big geographical avoidance, wheelchair exploitation, grandad lies, amusing dog tags, jarring teen and tween products or her standby tiara wedding?

Years ago, a YouTube video of silk: Inside the Suits’ fashion closet with actress, Meghan Markle.

The physical task is her pomposity. Must be before any regal training. At 1:07, she displays the rooted Californian “quintessential” and then fucked him:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AWZonwIYmMI

Cohorts of Commonplace

Little fictionalization of a swoony royal wedding that hinted at groundedness. America hated it. 2018 shootings: May 16, 2018, Justin Painter shot his three young children in Ponder, Texas. May 20, 2018 one man was killed in Hazlehurst, Mississippi. June 10, four people were shot outside a graduation party in Kannapolis, NC. On June 14, a 15-year-old was shot in Tracy, California. June 24, one man shot in the back in Gary, Indiana. July 4, three people killed in Gary, Indiana. July 10, 2018, a father killed his three young children in Prices Corner, Delaware. August 12, 2018, a father shot his three children in Clearlake, California. October 8, teen was shot and killed in Española, New Mexico. December 28, 2018, boyfriend killed his girlfriend, her young children, and her mother in Saint Charles, Missouri.

Mosque Morgue

March 15, 2019, Brenton Harrison Tarrant murdered 51 worshippers, injuring 89 in Christchurch, NZ. The Al Noor Mosque and the Linwood Islamic Centre. Youngest victim was three years old. Inspired by these mosque shootings, on August 10, 2019, Philip Manshaus, a 21-year-old Norwegian man, shot and killed his teenage sister while she was in her bed, firing three bullets into her head and one into her chest, then opened fire at the Al-Noor Islamic Centre in Norway.

Aqua

On Twitter mouthparts, Harry is Oasis musician, Liam Gallagher. He uses a faux accent that is technically British to compose a blend of tipsy, thorny, anger-fueled noise. They’re crass to me and then you remember he’s married:

Fuck me i think I've just done my first SLUT DROP c'mon.

Just had RKID on the phone begging for forgiveness bless him wants to meet up what Dya reckon meet up or fuck him off.

blimey green pedophilia. google.

Divorce

The youngest suicide on record was incorrect: In 2017, Gabriel Taye at Carson Elementary, with a necktie, hanged himself. He was 8. The youngest was Samantha Nicole Kuberski who hanged herself with a belt from a crib back in 2009. She was 6.

Jayden Lalchan of Princes Town, Trinidad, 15, just hanged himself. On October 7, 20-year-old Rani Pradhan set herself on fire, dying at MKCG Medical College & Hospital in Odisha, India.

Staged marriage, long-distance divorce.

K

[cllnsllvn]

Preparing to move south - part 2

Sunday, December 10

Went to see High School Musical today! I had seen some advertisements for it and decided to get a ticket and just go. It was a delight! It's funny, because I have seen the stage musical relatively recently (thanks NDA theatre), so some of the stage musical songs that aren't in the movie were still familiar to me. And one or two of them still sound a bit stilted and awkward as if people aren't confident in the songs!

When I came out, I came out to a pro-Palestine protest, so I met Meg and joined along, walking from Aotea Square to the American Consulate in Auckland. After, I had to get my Christmas cocktail (which was impossible to find), so we went to the Hilton hotel bar, Bellini, where I managed to get a grasshopper, which I decided to count. Finished it all up with some gelato before going back to the hostel and packing to leave to go to Christchurch tomorrow!

Monday, December 11

Today is the day! I went one more time to the café to get a gingerbread latte before spending a bit of time at the hostel before hopping the shuttle to the airport! Once landing in Christchurch, I got to my hostel, settled in a bit, then went for a stroll.

Laurel was kind enough to give me a few ideas of things to do, so I walked over to Riverside Market for dinner and stopped off along the way for a few photos and to sit and enjoy the river! On to the next adventure!

[harryhenry1]

Sme of the awesome things found at the Lumiére Cinemas at the arts centre in Christchurch. Nick did an incredible job with the place! #lumierecinemas #christchurch #newzealand #theatres #theatre #film #films #movie #movies #cinema (at Lumière Cinemas) https://www.instagram.com/p/B0IsOe0AJbf/?igshid=1hr23qu5zofts

[socialdegenerate]

West Side Story at Stage Around

I don’t like West Side Story.

This isn’t a particularly new opinion of mine: I’ve always generally considered it to be one of the more unfortunately heterosexual of musicals (the Ultimate Gay Artform), the songs are hit and miss, and I’ve never managed to sit through the whole movie.

But I just spent almost three hours utterly transfixed as Miyano Mamoru sang and danced and died on stage as Tony.

It definitely helped that it was staged in a new theatre with a 360 degree stage all around the audience, and that had a seating bank that spun around to face different parts of the stage depending on which set they needed for each scene. They made the most of that rather unique setup, and at the end when Mamo was running through the city, the audience rotated as he circled around and it really added a sense of distance to the scene (...he was also screeching the whole time lmao). They also had a few scenes where blokes on actual motorbikes would ride around the stage, and hearing the motors going behind the seats was a great touch.

However, for me the whole thing was made by Mamo. I might have snickered through his serious scenes and his fan service shirtless (and pantsless) scene, but he’s just so goddamned charming that I love watching him do literally anything. I’ve also never noticed how bloody broad old mate is???? Dude’s got shoulders to match his legs for days. Yes I am a lesbian, why do you ask?

Anyway.

The rest of the cast were all super good as well: Maria hit some wild high notes and the dancers were amazing, and the dresses were absolutely *chef’s kiss*. I feel like a lot of the racial aspect got lost (...because entirely Japanese cast) and the very end shot of all the names and dates of major scenes of real life gun violence (Christchurch, Sandy Hook, Charleston etc) felt a little confused in its actual message, but they tried and they put on a damn good show.

But for real. That goddamn tall motherfucker is so charming that nothing else even matters, because he stole the show and had me intently watching a musical that I don’t even like. I also like Aoi Shouta (who is sharing the role with Mamo) but I just don’t think he could have quite the same effect on me.

Kaji Yuki was right: Miyano Mamoru isn’t just an entertainer, he is THE entertainer.

And he put on a damn good show tonight.

[alicecinemas-blog]

Alice Cinema Christchurch

These award-winning movies are the perfect way to spend a wet kiwi summer day! https://alice.co.nz/movies/darkest-hour/ https://alice.co.nz/movies/mary-witchs-flower/ https://alice.co.nz/movies/all-the-money-in-the-world/ https://alice.co.nz/movies/the-florida-project/ https://alice.co.nz/movies/call-me-by-your-name/

[unowritingabroad]

Triskel Arts Centre

(Contributed by Christy Lorio)

I’ve given myself a goal to watch at least one movie per week while I’m here in Ireland. I could hole myself up in my apartment, eyes fixed on the glow of my laptop screen, or I could venture out to city centre and take in some local culture and movies I might not have found on my own. I chose the latter, and I’m so glad I did. I can’t think of a better venue to watch independent movies then Triskel Arts Centre, a “stunningly restored 1700’s Neo-classical Georgian (deconsecrated) Church” that houses Christchurch, the main auditorium, as well as an art gallery and Scrypt Café Bar. According to Triskel’s website, the church was deconsecrated in 1979 and housed the Cork City Archives until 2005. Then, in 2011, Cork City Council and Triskel Arts Centre developed a “state of the art cultural venue” replete with live music, a cinema, an art gallery and literary events.

The theater itself is stunning. It still looks like a church, replete with circa 1878-79 box pews and architectural details from the same era, with makes for a very atmospheric, upscale (but not uptight) art house feel. The Scrypt Café on the ground floor serves coffee, tea, wine, beer, and libations, which you can bring with you inside the theatre. The most unique feature of the Triskel, however, is underground. A crypt, built between 1718 and 1720,  is tucked behind the stairs just past the box office.  The original crypt walls were cut away and replaced with glass, which makes for an intimately eerie viewing era.

If you decide to go to the Triskel make sure to sign up for a free student membership, which gives you discounts on movie tickets and be sure to check out their website for all of their summer cultural offerings.

https://triskelartscentre.ie

[jonathangroffcentral]

Mindhunter, Frozen and Hamilton star Jonathan Groff in New Zealand to teach Kiwi performers

CHARLIE GATES - January 31 2018 (x)

Groff is in Christchurch to teach young people about musical theatre acting.  (JOSEPH JOHNSON/STUFF)

Jonathan Groff was cast in his first hit Broadway musical at the age of 20.

He was not formally trained in theatre, but was a self-confessed "theatre nerd" at high school and acted in community theatre musicals.

The musical, Spring Awakening, was a critical and commercial hit that transformed his life. He was nominated for a Tony Award for his performance, while the show was nominated for 11 Tony Awards and won eight, including best musical, original score and direction. "It set my career. It got me an agent, but as an artist, the material of the show, completely transformed me," he says.

Broadway star Jonathan Groff is an actor from movies such as Frozen and the Netflix Series, Mindhunter during his visit to Ara where he is involved with workshops in Christchurch. 

"The best revelation about all of it was ... realising that being on Broadway was the exact same thing as performing in your high school musical. It sounds silly, but it's true. Everybody comes together to tell a story to an audience. Theatre is the same no matter where you do it."

His Broadway breakthrough led to a part in television show Glee, a voice role in Disney animation Frozen, a part in the original Broadway production of hip hop smash musical Hamilton, and the lead role in Mindhunter, film director David Fincher's Netflix drama about profiling serial killers in 1970s America.

Groff is in New Zealand this week to teach young people about musical theatre acting at the Christchurch International Musical Theatre Summer School (CIMTSS). The course was established by Christchurch composer Luke Di Somma, the creator of suffragette musical That Bloody Woman, in 2014.

Every two years, Di Somma brings Broadway and West End performers and directors to Christchurch to teach high school students and emerging professionals about musical theatre acting.

Groff is joined this year by Broadway stars Julia Murney and Andréa Burns, Broadway director Peter Flynn and New Zealand director Kip Chapman.

Teaching is about unlocking people's creative potential, says Groff.

"People get into the performing arts because they have something to say, even if they don't know what it is they are trying to say.

"You end up discovering together what it is they are trying to express. As teachers, it is just a matter of creating a safe space for them to do that.

"To be themselves and feel they can take risks and be silly and fail and it's all OK and we are here to express ourselves.

Broadway star Jonathan Groff has been nominated for two Tony awards for his roles in Hamilton and Spring Awakening.

"Following your passion and unlocking the thing that makes you joyful and always staying connected to that in life is important. Whether or not you go into a career in the arts, the arts will always be there for you.

"Becoming a professional actor is so much about luck. There are so many talented people, friends of mine, who haven't had the big break yet.

"And there are so many things that are out of your control. But, as a person, if you just keep your head down and keep working and investing in the things you are passionate about you will go wherever you are meant to go."

For Groff, that journey led him to to a role in the original Broadway production of Hamilton, a hip hop musical about US founding father Alexander Hamilton that became a runaway phenomenon.

"That was not like doing a show. That was it's own insane experience," he says.

"We had people from politics, music and theatre and entertainment coming to the show. Everybody came to see the show.

"President Obama came to see the show during previews on Broadway. That was a surreal moment.

"Beyoncé came to see the show. That was a surreal and a completely unique experience.

"What was so amazing about her coming to the show was ... she very specifically talked to everybody about their performances. She didn't just come because it was the thing to do. She came to really watch and observe and take it in.

Johnathan Groff starring in Netflix show Mindhunter, directed by David Fincher.

"She talked about the way I exited the stage and walked out on stage.

"Little physical details that she noticed. And it made me think, this is why Beyoncé is a world renowned artist.

"She is actually watching everybody. That was a lesson. She is not resting on her laurels, she is still working and ready to be inspired."

Groff also voiced Kristoff in Disney musical Frozen.

And then he moved from one phenomenon to another, voicing the character Kristoff in Disney animation Frozen.

The film was rewatched obsessively by many children and the film's song Let it Go became an involuntary earworm for many parents.

"Frozen is hypnotic for kids. It is insane," says Groff.

He records voice memos in his character voice as a gift for children in need of cheering up.

"The kids do freak out when I do a voice memo, with the reindeer voice [Sven] and the voice of Kristoff. The parents make videos of the kids listening to the voice and they freak out. That is really fun.

"You see them light up when they hear the voices from Frozen."

And then he was cast in the lead role of Fincher's Netflix show Mindhunter, an intense psychological drama about the pioneers of psychological profiling at the Federal Bureau of Investigation in the 1970s.

Groff plays a character with a name that has a different resonance in New Zealand.

His character is called Holden Ford.

"I didn't realise that when we were making it, but when we were doing promotions for the show people started talking about that.

"Our writer, Joe Penhall, said that was intentional on his part. Holden is from Catcher in the Rye and then he wanted to throw the most American car name at the end. It made him giggle a bit to put those two names together.

"I think that was a joke to himself."

He said starring in Mindhunter had led to a different group of people stopping him in the street.

"Because of Glee, Spring Awakening, Frozen and a show I did on HBO called Looking, I was approached by a lot of teenage girls and gay dudes.

"Those were the two groups that would often approach me on the street, but with Mindhunter, it is now a lot of nerdy, straight guys.

"It is kind of similar, but they don't cry. Sometimes teenage girls will cry because they get so emotional. I would say the straight dudes are vibrating at a slightly lower frequency than the teenage girls."

He said it was exciting to work on Mindhunter with director David Fincher, the man behind films like Fight Club, Se7en and Gone Girl.

"I am obsessed with him. I am in love with him. He doesn't believe in perfection, but he is endlessly working towards it, knowing he will never achieve it.

"Every moment is about the work. That is so refreshing and inspiring that we are not feeding anyone's ego, we are just there to tell the best version of the story possible.

"Sometimes you do a lot of takes and sometimes you don't, but you are always working. It has changed the way I work. You are always looking for a way to make it slightly better.

"He would be a great coach of a football team, or President of the United States, or he would be a great captain of a ship. He would be a great leader in whatever industry because he inspired people to work."

He is due to start shooting the second season of Mindhunter in a couple of months.

"I have seen scripts, but I can't say anything about them. I am excited to go back.

"I can't say anything about it and I don't want him [Fincher] to get mad and I don't want to spoil it."

When Groff told Fincher that he was coming to New Zealand for a theatre school, Fincher wanted him to hand on some advice for the young Kiwi performers.

"He said, 'will you, for me, just tell them one thing'. He said, 'generosity. Acting is generosity. It is giving yourself over to deliver something to an audience. It is all about giving. It is about the audience and the other people on stage and the story you are telling. Performing is a complete act of generosity'.

"That was his request, that I tell the students that this week. So funny, right?"

Broadway performers Jonathan Groff, Julia Murney and Andréa Burns will perform at St Margaret's College's Charles Luney Auditorium on Friday, February 2 at 7.30pm.

[cinemanz]

Beyond the Small Screen: Why Documentaries Deserve Theatrical Attention

 Welcome to a world where documentaries are no longer confined to small screens and streaming platforms. In recent years, there has been a significant rise in the popularity of documentaries, captivating audiences with their unique storytelling techniques and thought-provoking narratives. 

While watching these films from the comfort of our homes may be tempting, there is something extraordinary about experiencing documentaries in a movie theatre. 

In this blog post, we will explore why documentaries deserve the attention of Christchurch Movie theatres and why you should consider watching them on the big screen.

The Rise of Documentaries

Gone are the days when documentaries were considered niche content for a select few. Today, documentaries have become a mainstream form of entertainment, capturing the interest and attention of a wide range of audiences. The increasing popularity of documentaries can be attributed to several factors. Firstly, the rise of streaming platforms has made these films easily accessible to viewers worldwide. 

Secondly, documentaries offer a refreshing departure from traditional fictional storytelling, providing a unique perspective on real-life events and issues. Lastly, documentaries have evolved in production value, employing innovative storytelling techniques that engage and captivate viewers.

The Power of Christchurch Movie theatres

While documentaries can certainly be enjoyed on small screens, there is something truly magical about watching them in a movie theatre. Movie theatres offer a distinct and immersive experience that enhances documentary viewing. The communal setting of a theatre allows viewers to engage with the content on a deeper level. As we sit shoulder to shoulder with strangers, we share our emotions and reactions to the film, creating a sense of connection and shared experience.

Furthermore, the atmosphere of a movie theatre is designed to capture our full attention. The dimmed lights, the anticipation of the film starting, and the absence of distractions all contribute to a heightened focus on the documentary at hand. In an age where our attention spans are constantly being tested, watching a documentary in a theatre allows us to fully immerse ourselves in the story, enabling a more profound and impactful viewing experience.

Enhanced Viewing Experience

One of the most significant advantages of watching documentaries in movie theatres is the enhanced visual and audio elements. The screens in theatres are more extensive and of higher quality, allowing us to fully appreciate the stunning cinematography and visual effects employed in many documentaries. Whether it's a breathtaking nature documentary or a visually striking exploration of a historical event, the larger screens enable us to absorb the visual's beauty and intricacy fully.

Additionally, movie theatres boast state-of-the-art sound systems that bring documentaries to life in an unparalleled way. The crisp and immersive audio quality allows us to hear every whispered conversation, every impactful musical score, and every ambient sound. This enhanced audio experience elevates the film's emotional impact, allowing us to connect with the story and its subjects on a deeper level.

IV. Social Connection and Discussions

Watching documentaries in movie theatres offers a personal connection to the film and provides opportunities for social connection and meaningful discussions. After the credits roll, many theatres organise post-screening talks or Q&A sessions, allowing viewers to engage with the filmmakers and each other. These discussions provide a platform to share thoughts, interpretations, and personal experiences related to the documentary. Through these conversations, we can collectively learn, grow, and develop a deeper understanding of the issues presented in the film.

Moreover, movie theatres often curate documentary film festivals or special screenings that attract like-minded individuals passionate about specific subjects. These events can foster a sense of community, bringing together individuals dedicated to creating positive change or raising awareness about important social issues. Attending such events allows you to connect with others and participate in a more significant movement working towards a better tomorrow.

Creating Cultural Impact:

Documentaries can create a cultural impact, sparking conversations and leading to positive change. When documentaries are showcased in movie theatres, they have the potential to reach a broader audience, transcending the boundaries of age, race, and background. By exposing viewers to a wide range of stories and perspectives, documentaries can challenge societal norms, raise awareness about critical social issues, and inspire action.

Countless documentaries have made significant cultural impact over the years. From "An Inconvenient Truth" shedding light on climate change to "Blackfish" exposing the plight of captive killer whales, these films have ignited conversations and influenced public opinion. By watching documentaries in movie theatres and participating in the post-screening discussions, you become an active participant in the cultural dialogue, contributing to the positive change these films seek to inspire.

conclusion:

 In a world dominated by small screens and streaming platforms, it is essential not to overlook the value of watching documentaries in movie theatres. The rise of documentaries as mainstream content showcases the growing interest in this genre and the unique perspectives they offer. So, the next time you have the opportunity, consider stepping beyond the small

Coscreen and experiencing the power of documentaries in Christchurch Movie theatres and enjoy. You won't be disappointed.

[thewidowstanton]

Archive feature: Guillaume Saladin and Artcirq

2018 seems to be a year of important circus anniversaries: 250 years since Philip Astley created the first circus ring in the UK, 40 years that Laszlo Simet has been performing on the high wire and Semaphore, 25 years of Cirque Eloize, and 20 years of Artcirq, the circus set up in Igloolik in the Arctic Circle to try to combat the high suicide rate among young people there.

To mark Artcirq’s anniversary, we have chosen this feature – by The Widow’s Liz Arratoon – from 2005. We first met the inspirational Guillaume Saladin at the after-party for Cirque Eloize’s show Nomade at the Barbican in London in 2003 and instantly became friends. Struck by his passion and commitment, I interviewed him – during a trip to Paris to see Nomade at the Folies Bergère – to learn about his plans, before he headed off to the frozen north. It was in the days of dictaphones, and just after we’d finished chatting for about an hour we noticed the tape had snapped! Drama! But Gui calmly said: “We’ll do it again.”

There cannot be many circus artists who would willingly give up the bright lights of showbusiness to spend a year living on an island in the Arctic Circle. But after touring with Cirque Eloize for the past three years and performing in its show, Nomade, almost 500 times, that is exactly what Guillaume Saladin is going to do. Seven years ago he set up a circus project in the tiny Inuit village of Igloolik. Saladin says: “It’s called Artcirq. I started it in June 1998, just before I started circus school, after two of my old friends committed suicide, to try to prevent further young people in Igloolik from doing the same. It had been like that for many years, a lot of suicides.” Since then the 32-year-old French Canadian has been back every year for up to three months at a time to teach his students more and to help them put on shows.

Now Saladin has been asked by the village to return to Igloolik to spend a year running the community centre, where the students train, and to provide workshops. He says: “In July, after my last Nomade show in Christchurch, New Zealand, I’ll move to Igloolik to a little hut lent to me by the missionary. I will schedule next year’s activity for ten artists that will end with the shooting of a movie I devised with the film-maker Marie-Helene Cousineau. With these ten we’ll create a solid base, but each week we’ll provide open workshops for the community and the kids will help me teach them. So we’re already giving back knowledge from local people to local people. For the Inuit people, by the Inuit people.”

It is Saladin’s unique upbringing that has led him to this point. Both his parents are anthropologists and his father spent almost 50 years working in the Arctic with the Inuit community as an expert in Inuit Shamanism. Although Saladin was born in Quebec City, he spent much of his childhood in Igloolik. He was baptised by its queen and given the Inuit name of Ittuksardjuat. That name relates him to a family with whom he stays whenever he goes back, so he feels very strongly that he is part of the community.

“I was raised in Igloolik and spent all my summers there until I was 15. Then I didn’t go again until I was 24. My father continued to go there to conduct his research. I started out training to be a sociologist and I decided to finish my Sociology degree there with Isuma Productions who were shooting the film, Atanarjuat, The Fast Runner. I realised then that there was a dark side to the reality to life there that I never saw when I was a kid. Kids are lost in the generational gap. There is a loss of meaning in their lives. The elders still have the old knowledge but the kids are disconnected. There are so many images coming at them from the TV, but it has no meaning for them. There are no local role models. That’s why Isuma are trying to create Inuit stars with their movies. Artcirq is trying to do the same thing at ground level. We’re not that big.”

As well as circus skills, such as juggling, acrobatics, Inuit straps, unicycling and trapeze, the kids also have a chance to learn such things as lighting, set building, costume, dance, theatre, acting, writing and video-making. It is intended to give them career opportunities and a purpose in life. Their job prospects otherwise are limited to becoming cashiers or sewage truck drivers. Saladin has a network of about 15 potential trainers and is looking forward to working with an old friend from circus school.

“Janju Bonzon will be helping me. He’s a teeter board and BMX specialist and has been working with Circus Zip Zap in South Africa. As soon as he’s finished there he’ll join me in the Arctic. He’ll be in the movie as well. I’m also going to bring other circus people to provide speciality workshops. I’ll be there the whole time, the other artists will come to bring specific training. The end of the movie will be the beginning of the show that we want to present to other local communities. It will be a full-length movie about a year in the life of two young kids from a remote community close to Igloolik, who do stupid things, and one is caught by the police. He has to do social work at the community hall and gets in touch with the circus group.”

Early on, Saladin’s project began to address the problem of a rising number of suicides in Igloolik that local residents had debated for years. Before Artcirq there were an average of four or five suicides every year but, dramatically, 12 months after it started, they were able to celebrate a suicide-free year. But it remains a bleak place for kids. The island has only 1,200 inhabitants and is surrounded by ice for eight months of the year with temperatures falling to –60 degrees C in January, when there is no sun.

“It can be brutal. It’s never banal, never flat; life is either very high, beautiful, powerful, very strong, then suddenly, very dark, deep, violent, with a loss of meaning. Kids there need to find themselves as teenagers, find out who they are. Traditionally there, men were hunters, women were mothers. That’s still the same in Igloolik, but not many people are hunters anymore. Lots are just like teenagers anywhere. They have lots of energy, they listen to hip-hop, rap, rock ’n’ roll, they always ask: “Yo, what’s up?” And the answer is always: “Not much.” And it’s that ‘not much’ that causes the problems. They are stuck on an island, stuck in a village, everywhere is a dead end, every street, and it’s flat, flat, flat. Just gravel and tundra. For eight months a year, it’s all white and for four, it’s summertime. Then there is an explosion of life. Everyone breathes again. In winter people stay inside. The kids have school until they are 16 and then are free to do whatever they want. Everyone is an artist inside and trying to express themselves, sometimes this will be by drugs, alcohol or sports. We’re trying to bring back another way of expression. Another possibility.”

At present, Saladin explains, the young people have three ways to escape. “Igloolik has two little hills; one way is the airport, then the village and the other is the cemetery. They can look out and see two exits. One way out is when you die and another is if you leave the island and don’t come back. Education is free, so it’s possible to leave the country. They go and study in the white world. It’s not connected to them, but it’s a possibility. Another possibility is if you commit a crime and kill someone, you will go to jail down south, so it’s a way to leave. Another way to leave is if you shoot yourself. Or you stay home in your own environment and do things that make sense of your life, and try to mix where you come from with where you want to go and find a meaningful job. We’re trying to provide meaningful expression that could be transformed into meaningful careers.”

Sadly, even though the suicide rate in Igloolik has been reduced by 80 per cent, there are still deaths among the young people. Last year the elder sister of one of Saladin’s 12-year-old students hanged herself despite being clever at school and apparently having a bright future. “She was 14. We don’t know exactly why she did it. I arrived three or four days afterwards and we worked with her sister for a month. We did a 45-minute show last summer that we presented ten times to the community. And for the last show she juggled with us. She’d come a long way. Inside she was always sad, but she stayed with us because it brought her joy and happiness. But at the same time she was not full of life. She had to work, work, work. It was meaningful for her to show her father how she could juggle. She did that, her family was there and they were all crying.”

Saladin first became involved in circus while he was studying for his Masters degree in sociology. A friend suggested he join her at a circus class and he loved it so much that he decided to give up his studies and enrol at Montreal’s National Circus School, where he met Karine Delzors. They became performing partners and specialised in hand-to-hand balancing. Delzors is also involved In Artcirq, as are others from the Nomade cast. Bartek Soroczyński, one of the clowns, is another of the artists who has visited Igloolik on several occasions to run workshops for the kids and help with the shows. Acrobatics, juggling, unicycling, hand-to-hand have all featured in the productions, which always have a local theme and feel. The shows are filmed by the students, some of the activity taking place in igloos or out on the ice pack.

He and Delzors have now been performing together for seven years. ”We were taught by Alexandre Arnoutov, who comes from a famous Russian circus family. He’s in his sixties now and is still doing hand-to-hand with his wife. The other two men who have influenced Karine and me a lot, and therefore Artcirq as well, are Daniele Finzi Pasca, our artistic director in Nomade, and Krzysztof Soroczyński, Bartek’s father, our head trainer at Cirque Eloize. He has a lot of knowledge about different techniques. So, those three men have been very important to us.”

In Nomade, Saladin displays his own wide-ranging talents. Due to his stature and strength he forms the base of a four-man column, he sings, plays the trombone, juggles and performs acrobatics. But it is his stunning hand-to-hand display, performed with Delzors under a fine mist of water, that provides the show’s finale. Despite losing one of the key members of its troupe, Cirque Eloize is committed to supporting Artcirq. It has sold red clown noses at all performances of Nomade to raise funds for the project, which has always been run on a shoestring. “They are also providing training space in Montreal, their own circus equipment that they no longer need and they are buying specific things for us, like juggling clubs. They are a great partner. They are sensitive. Krzysztof can also come to Igoolik to lead a workshop if we need him.”

Saladin has many hopes and dreams for the future of his project. “One is working with the Inuit trying to bridge the cultures, and the other is to create a show with Cirque Eloize one day. Karine is part of Artcirq and she’s staying with Eloize, so I’m sure they’ll propose her for it. Daniele will also be involved. If the timing is right, everyone is in place.”

His altruism puts most people to shame but he sees Artcirq as a lifelong project and appears to carry his responsibilities lightly. “It’s a promise I made myself when I was a kid and I’m just following that. My Inuit name means ‘the little old man who will grow’. This man, Ittuksardjuat, was a powerful Inuit leader in the 1930s, a great chief. Inuits say that through the names they’re passing the knowledge also, so the one called Ittuksardjuat will be a little like him. If my name was not Ittuksardjuat I’m sure my life would have been different. I feel connected to him. I feel I’m going back for me also. To save my life, to make sense of it because when I was a kid I used to live there. I was baptised with an Inuit name which joins me to their culture. I can’t say I’m not part of it. I’m just trying to mix everything that I am inside and use it to communicate and to share. If you don’t realise someday that sharing is the best way to live a happy life and that you can’t just live for yourself, you’ll feel sad at the end and alone. That’s my motivation; to be happy.”

Saladin already has an invitation from a festival in Salzburg for the Inuit troupe to perform there if they ever go to Europe. The Inuit Cultural Centre in Paris is also open to help them in any way. “There are many places we can go. This is one dream, to set up a tour, then to perform somewhere else. My mother is also involved with aboriginals in Amazonian Peru and when I was there I was surprised to see similarities between the two cultures. That would be a nice exchange. What one has lost can be relearnt from the other. But those are my dreams and I don’t want to impose them. It’s their own destiny. It’s for them to express and direct.”

Saladin is passionate about Artcirq and determined to preserve its heritage. He stresses: “It’s important to combine the circus skills with traditional dance and music. Last summer we recreated an old legend in a month. It made me realise how willing the kids were and how good they are. We’re trying to find the roots of circus in Inuit culture. Through that we’re trying to bring back meaning and not lose everything from the past. If you want to run forwards you need to know where you’re coming from. Our goal is continuity. Artcirq is not a little fire that will burn for a month and then go out.”

Artcirq’s website. To make a donation to the company contact Guillaume Saladin at info@artcirq.org

Twitter: @isumaTV

Follow @TheWidowStanton on Twitter

We’ll be catching up again with Gui in the next few weeks and posting an interview to further mark Artcirq’s 20th anniversary.

This feature first appeared in Spectacle magazine. A shorter version also appeared in The Stage.

[takespaceblog]

But Why Cambridge?

With one week of classes down and a mini-manifesto on why artists should get an MBA completed, it’s time to explain why I chose to go all the way to Cambridge. Most of the famous B-schools are in the U.S. and two are in the Bay Area, so why upend my life?

When the news is particularly bad I joke that I chose Cambridge the day after the election. Life was hard enough for an artist under Obama and it’s not going to be easier with Trump. Besides threatening to cut the National Endowment for the Arts, the bi-weekly attempt to retool healthcare is terrifying for anyone without a traditional job let alone a pre-existing condition. Obamacare is not perfect and obscenely expensive if you plan on actually needing healthcare, but at least it exists. I’m terrified it won’t when I move back. While I love being in a country with nationalized healthcare, I promise I didn’t simply run away from America.

In reality, I started thinking about an MBA from Cambridge long before the election. Two years ago I spent Thanksgiving attempting to “figure out” my life and came across a person with a background almost as incongruous as my own. David Sabel was an actor who studied at Northwestern and La Coq (the preeminent clown school) before realizing he wanted to make a larger impact in the field. He ended up here at Judge Business School and went on to the National Theatre in London where he revolutionized the way audiences see plays—making it possible to watch Helen Mirren perform in London from an American movie theater. He opened my eyes to the potential an MBA could have in the arts, and the fact Cambridge had the foresight to also see that potential made me think I should look into to the program too.

On a practical level Judge, unlike most American programs, is only a year long. But more importantly, it’s smaller, more hands-on, and extremely diverse. While I love San Francisco and plan to return to the Bay, Silicon Valley tends to think of itself as the center of the universe. While amazing innovation is happening, I did not want to attend a school that thinks just like all the businesses in the surrounding area. I need to think bigger if I truly want to learn and potentially reinvigorate an aging industry. All good teachers say that you will learn more from your classmates than your classes and Cambridge is no exception.

My small class of 208—the average B-school class has almost 400 and Harvard has closer to 900—comes from 44 different countries and is 94% international. My study group of five includes an Indian with a background in oil, a Brazilian focusing on agriculture, a Jamaican chemist, and a woman from China who worked at L’Oréal and has over 200,000 Instagram followers (a small number she insists due to China’s size). With this group, I will work on a consulting project at local Cambridge business. While not initially exciting in comparison to our other projects, I recently learned that Cambridge attracts the highest invest per capita in Europe (5x that of London) and is the fastest growing city in the U.K. so it should be an invigorating way to get our feet wet. 

In the spring, I will be assigned a month long team consultancy based anywhere in the world. While visiting New Zealand, I saw these projects in action—one team worked with a non-profit rebuilding Christchurch after the 2011 earthquake. And for the summer, we are given three months to complete an independent internship of our choice. After attending an undergrad that shunned anything practical, it’s exciting to know I will graduate with more work experience.

Lastly and perhaps most importantly, Judge embraces creativity. Though I’m the only actor, my class includes a musician who runs his own record label, a sports commentator specializing in sailing, two medical students, a curator from Sotheby’s, and a film producer. We’re encouraged to interact with the rest of the university, to spend as little time as possible with people from our own industry and country, and to try new things even if it means failing. Our professors much rather see us struggle and fail in something new than succeed in subjects we consider our strength.

On the first day of class, the head of program walked in with a blow-up dinosaur. We were asked to draw it and then to draw it again with our eyes closed. Finally we were told to trade images with a partner and add to what they’d started. Though none of us considered ourselves artists, each person could draw something that looked like a dinosaur (even with our eyes closed). Additionally, everyone agreed that their partner added something valuable the image. While a simple task and simple message, it set an interesting tone for the program. We work better as a team, and we’re all more capable and creative than we think even when it comes to activities we deem our weaknesses.

So, here I am. In Cambridge ready to start week two of something miles outside my comfort zone in a field I always considered a weakness.

This week’s Take Space heroine is Virginia Woolf and A Room of One’s Own. The book was delivered as speeches to the woman’s colleges here at Cambridge in 1929 before women could attend the regular university. I read it for the first time just before coming to Cambridge and couldn’t put it down. Despite its age, the book feels like a contemporary call to arms for women everywhere. 

[tumbleon]

Go well, Celia

The first time I saw Celia Mancini was on celluloid. 

Three years ago, my flatmates and I headed out in the rain to catch a screening of Margaret Gordon’s documentary about the Christchurch band Into the Void at Alice’s, a theatre in the centre of town that holds about 30 people. 

Most of the documentary consisted of the band laughing about how they drank together far more often than they made music. 

But the atmosphere changed when a clip from King Loser’s ’76 Come Back Special video jumped off the screen. A presence appeared: a femme fatale with jet black hair and red lips. She sprinted in short heels through the streets of Auckland, picking off men with whatever she had lying around: a car, a rifle, a karate chop. 

King Loser, ‘76 Come Back Special 

“Wow,” I breathed. 

Onto the next one... Still from the ‘76 Come Back Special video. Get it, Celia. 

One of the people she murdered in the video was her bandmate Chris Heazlewood. Their personalities sparked when they met in Auckland in 1992. Celia spit venom, and Chris liked it. Celia liked him, too. King Loser was born shortly afterwards. 

King Loser press shot for Flying Nun Records. Left to right: Celia Mancini, Lance Strickland, Chris Heazlewood. Not pictured: Sean O’Reilly

“That whole video was all her idea!” he cried. “She’s got a real good eye for iconography. She was like, ‘I need to be in a black vinyl catsuit, and I need to be killing everybody, and I need to die at the end.’” 

Celia was larger than life. She was also still very much alive. Unlike the actual members of Into the Void, who were somewhat useless at remembering the finer details of their history, Celia had scrapbooks full of newspaper clippings. More than 20 years after the fact, she still had everything saved, as if she always knew that someone would need it one day. She was a rock star and an archivist. My heart glowed. As disparate as our lives seemed, I could relate to her in that one small way. 

Media is often talked about as if it is some evil, homogenous lump of globalised ephemera with no real connection to anything or anyone other than capitalism and corporate profits. But in New Zealand, people step out of celluloid and cross over from the screen into everyday life all the time. You just have to know where to look, and who to find.  

At one point in the documentary, Into the Void played in a gravel lot on High Street where their practise room used to be. One kid watched from the sidewalk, his hair bouncing. An hour after the screening, Mary and I were at the darkroom, and so was he. 

“We just saw your movie,” we crooned. “Loved your scene.” 

Though Celia first became known for her presence in Christchurch bands like The Stepford 5 and The Axel Grinders in the 80s, she didn’t live in Christchurch anymore. 

(You can hear one of The Stepford 5′s songs here). 

Although King Loser was born in Auckland, the band also lived in Dunedin for a bit. Part of that history included joining Peter Gutteridge in a reformed line-up of Snapper. The New Zealand poet David Merritt referred to their triumvirate as “an axis of good and evil”.

Self-portrait of Snapper, c. 1992 by Chris Heazlewood. Left to right: Peter Gutteridge, Celia Mancini, Chris Heazlewood. Not pictured: Mike Dooley. 

Though their relationship didn’t last, they remained close friends. 

Celia always used to introduce Chris to people with the line, “And this is my guitarist, Chris Heazlewood.” Photo courtesy of Chris Heazlewood, who said: “Note proprietary position of hand on shoulder.”

Celia’s and my paths first crossed two years ago in a bar on Karangahape Road in Auckland. Though I had killed a lot of time on K Road – I had written a novel there in another life, years before moving to the South Island – I had never seen Celia before. This time around, I was doing an oral history project on Peter Gutteridge. This time, I knew who I was looking for. 

Chris Heazlewood was playing at the Audio Foundation, though I missed it (what gig finishes by ten?). Apparently, Celia appeared with a drummer and demanded that they play. Chris conceded. They smashed it. 

After the show I ended up at Verona, and Celia was there too, in a black silk dress. Her arm was in a cast. One of her front teeth was chipped. The bar was loud and crowded. She talked with a drawl, and a bit under her breath. Her words rolled together like liquid and I couldn’t make out a thing she said. After a few moments she held up her cigarette and announced: “I’ll leave you for more conversation with this one.” She nodded to me. “Scintillating.” That I understood. I broke into a smile. I had just been insulted, but I didn’t care. She was funny. 

Later that night a boy at the bar leaned in my face when he heard I was writing about Peter Gutteridge. 

“Who?” the boy spat. 

“He’s a musician,” I replied. 

“Who?” he asked again, louder.

“Uh…” I tried to think of which band to mention first.  

“I know who he is,” the boy seethed. “He was a friend of mine. Do you think he would have wanted you to write about him?” 

He hit a nerve. I almost cried. 

Celia wasn’t like that at all upon learning I wanted to write about Peter.  

“I have no questions to ask you,” she said. “I’m just grateful.” She championed the project to several of their mutual friends, and put me in touch with all of them. 

We did her oral history on a sunny winter day in Auckland in 2015. Celia didn’t have a permanent address, so we met at her friend’s flat in Grey Lynn. 

Celia wanted food: she requested a pizza with anchovies, capers, and olives. I had a rockmelon. “Bring both if you can,” Celia said. Before I left, she doubled down. “I’m not joking about the rockmelon. I am half Indian, you know.” 

When I arrived, Celia was waiting in the backyard. 

“Hi!” I said as I approached. “I’m Hannah.” 

She smiled slow. “I know.” 

I had brought along the rockmelon, but by that point it had been long forgotten. 

Oral histories ought to be recorded somewhere quiet, but Celia wanted to go find some sun. 

“Lindsay, we need your keys,” Celia announced to her friend. “Hannah’s going to borrow your car.” It came off a bit abrupt, but Lindsay didn’t seem to mind. He tossed me his keys. I also needed power; he handed me eight rechargeable batteries and told me to keep them. 

Boxes of Celia’s archives formed towers around Lindsay’s toilet. Even though she didn’t have a home, she hadn’t lost them. Her friends seemed unusually patient and generous.  

As I drove, Celia drank. 

“I'm a bit confused lately because I don’t live in Auckland,” Celia said. “I really want to be going home. I’ve been trying for two years.”

“Where’s home?” I asked.

She looked as me as if I was blind. “Dunedin!” she cried. “Always.”

We ended up on a park bench near the lake in Western Springs, where ducks were basking in the late afternoon sun. 

Celia poured whiskey into a mug from her flask. “Would you like a drink, darling?” She doled out the word darling like candy. 

“I would, but I can’t,” I protested. “I drove us here. I need to drive us home!” 

Celia’s mind moved a mile a minute. As she talked, her words started to blur again, and I struggled to separate them, just like at the bar. My replies were flat. Most of the time I managed only a generic response once she had finished. “Oh. Hm.” I wondered if she was making any sense. 

Later, when I listened back and slowed down the recording, Celia was totally lucid, and I sounded like an idiot. She would go off on three separate tangents in the middle of a sentence – but at the end of every sentence, she offered up about seven ideas. 

Much of what Celia said blasted apart the two-dimensional statements that have been repeated so many times about rock music in New Zealand, they are often passed off as truisms. One is that the scene is full of amateurs who learned by the seat of their pants. 

Celia didn’t ascribe to any of that bullshit. She loved classical music, played ragtime and honky-tonk on the piano from the age of five, and was a brass player in several orchestras as a kid. 

And then she fucking rocked.

Another one of the two-dimensional truisms was that being on stage came with no pretence. Everyone wore street clothes. 

Celia didn’t give a fuck about precedents. The world was her stage, and she was going to own it.  

Celia and her band Mother Trucker performing ‘Eric Estrada’ in 1998. 

“People turned their back on the audience,” Roy Colbert told me over coffee. “Then, here comes Celia walking the stage like it’s a runway in a nightie. People had never seen anything like it before. Jaws were on the floor.” Roy laughed.

Celia and I reminisced about Peter and purred.

“I miss his tone of voice,” she said.

“So gentle,” I agreed.

She smiled. “So sweet.”

Although our first encounter was a bit acerbic, Celia treated me like gold ever since I wrote about Peter. She said my dissertation rendered her speechless. A rarity, one of her friends mused. Don’t worry, another chimed in. I’m sure it’ll wear off soon. Her reputation remained contentious, but she also remembered my birthday. 

About a year later, word spread that King Loser had started to play together again. Shows were scheduled across the islands for September. As the dates neared, rumours rumbled through Dunedin that communication in the band had started to break down. There was talk the band might not make it.

But they did—curiosity regarding their arrival turned into cries of lament from Port Chalmers that Celia had demanded the entire stage be moved at the last minute.

Danny and Nikolai of Elan Vital had been drinking at Mou to mourn its last day before being sold; a brief sojourn to pick them along the way turned into a two-hour detour.

“Have shots with us,” they pressed.

“I’ll have a beer; I can’t have shots though,” I said. “I really want us to make this show.”

That night outside the Tunnel Hotel, the atmosphere was giddy. Nikolai leapt at Danny and pulled down his pants. Renee was draped over the fence outside the hotel in a fur coat, eyes glistening and grin demented. King Loser was back.

Chris Heazlewood passed us on the street on the way in.

I lit up. “You made it!”

“Agh,” he muttered. “Dragged that bitch all the way from the top of the North Island to the bottom of the South...”

I smiled. “Well, we’re glad you did.”

The bar was packed. There were black leather miniskirts that looked like they had been dusted off from 20 years back.

There was no sign of Celia. Sometime after midnight, the band started to play without her. Eventually Celia stalked in an oversized fur coat from stage right. Her hair was teased and piled up a mile high over a white collared shirt buttoned up her neck and a black silk tie. 

If looks could kill... Celia at The Tunnel Hotel in Port Chalmers, September 2016. Photo by Esta de Jong

Celia threw her coat behind her over a lamp. Their drummer—Lance Strickland, aka Tribal Thunder—carefully removed it.

Once they started playing, it all came together. Chris and Celia taunted one another. Lance was on point. At one point Celia almost knocked the keyboard into the audience, but Lance leapt out and caught it. Elan Vital and Death and the Maiden threw themselves into each other in front of the band, manic.

“I love you Celia!” Renee crowed. 

“Another whiskey, please, somebody?” Celia posited to the audience.  

“Somebody get her a whiskey!” Renee hollered, carrying the decibel of the request over to the bar.

“Thought she wasn’t going to make it for a minute there,” I mused to Roy Colbert, who happened to be standing in front of me.

“Don’t be fooled,” he said. “Celia wanted all eyes on her. She loved it.”

Word of King Loser quieted down a bit again after the shows.  

The following summer I moved to North East Valley, and not long after that cycled past Chris Heazlewood walking a dog along North Road.

“King Loser is playing at the Crown this Sunday afternoon,” Chris said. “So, Celia’s down obviously.”

The cover charge was only five dollars. My whole flat came; those with a bit of extra money covered for the ones who couldn’t afford it.

By the time I arrived, Connie Benson was on her last song. Afterwards, King Loser were even tighter than before. There was no false starts, no long wait. The first song came like a bullet train. Wham! Celia introduced another. Wham! Then another came straight after, without any introduction. Wham!

King Loser kill it at The Crown Hotel in Dunedin, March 5, 2017. 

“Shall we have Connie Benson come up and play our last song with us?” Celia asked before the set ended.

The crowd cheered. Connie’s eyes widened.

“Come on, Connie.” Celia started a chant. “Connie! Connie!”

Connie slowly took her guitar out of the case.

Connie glanced between Celia and Chris as the band launched into a riff. She watched Chris’ fingers and slowly started to imitate them. Lance lifted his chin at Connie, encouraging her to go faster.

Celia stopped the song after about 30 seconds. ““All right, Connie,” Celia insisted until the beast ground to a halt, it’s E, F#, A...” Celia rattled off the notes they were playing.

I melted for the girl for being put on the spot to play a song that she didn’t know. Connie didn’t seem to mind, though.

“Isn’t she amazing?” Celia asked the audience at the end. “Connie Benson!” I couldn't tell whether Celia had been trying to humiliate her, or not. Celia ran over to Connie after the set.

Celia Mancini performing a matinee King Loser show at The Crown Hotel in Dunedin, New Zealand, March 2017. Photo by Jacque Ruston. 

“Man,” my flatmate Caitlin marvelled. “What do you think she is like in person?”

“I’ve met her a few times,” I said. “I think what you see is what you get.”

Caitlin wouldn’t have to wonder for long. That weekend, Celia turned up at our flatwarming in the valley with a small entourage round midnight.

Marcus apologised on her behalf. “You know Celia,” he said. “She wanted to make an entrance.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I smiled. “Come as you are, whenever you like.”

It was a great night. Celia insulted the music, the lighting, and everyone at the party straightaway. 

“What is this?” Celia’s head swiveled. “You’re living in some student flat?”

Yes. But it has a band room... 

Caitlin tried to tell her a joke. Celia didn’t let her finish. “I’ve got a joke!” she declared. Then she forgot the ending, and cracked herself up anyway.  

Caitlin stared. “I’m laughing. Your joke is really funny.”

“Cunt!” Celia crowed. 

Caitlin put an arm on her shoulder. “Celia. I’m glad you’re here. But this is my house…”

Celia had already moved onto the record player. I tried to apologise for Celia, but Caitlin didn’t care. “Oh, I think she decided I was all right in the end.”  

“What is this music?” Celia cried. My flatmates had put on something... electronic. “Change it!” she hollered. 

I was more hesitant. “Someone wanted to hear this...”

“Put something that you like on,” Celia insisted. “You have good taste.” 

She had no knowledge of my taste, but was charming enough to get people to go along in spite of how little what was said stacked up against facts. 

At one point she sallied up next to me as I messed around on the organ in our hall. “That’s really good,” she encouraged, her eyes locked onto mine. 

Immediately after I put on some rock and roll, a boy started dancing in our lounge with a broom. 

Celia smiled. “See?” She cranked up the volume. 

“We have to keep it down,” my flatmate Icky insisted. “Noise control already came. I don’t want my stereo taken away.”

“The neighbours only called noise control because of that shithouse music you were playing before,” Celia insisted. “They didn’t like the BASS. It has to do with FREQUENCY. This is a higher frequency, it’s fine.” She cranked the volume back up on her way out to the backyard. 

Icky stared after her. “I think I’m in love.” He turned it back down once she had left. 

“This lighting is awful,” Celia mused. “Lighting can make or break a party.” We turned a few lights off. “Better,” she insisted. 

“She wasn’t that bad,” my flatmate Jenny said later on. “She wasn’t causing drama for the sake of it. Everything she was saying was about trying to make the party better.” 

Celia was still putting records on when I slithered off to bed around two in the morning. The next day my flatmates told me that she was one of the last to leave. 

Our time together was so short when compared with those who loved her and spent decades by her side. Yet as her spirit drifts from the bottom of the South Island to the top of the North Island and flies out over Cape Reinga, it feels still like I ought to share the little that I knew. If there was a legacy to carry forwards from the short time I spent with Celia, it was to engage. Celia can be channeled anytime someone moves with a certain modus operandi: Pay no mind to precedents. Focus on making the music good. Improve the party. 

I have been lucky enough to find something in New Zealand, though I can’t quite yet describe it. If all of the people who had an impact on each other’s lives all over these islands could be seen at once, it would light up the night like rich constellations in a cloudless winter sky. But as time passes, clouds are forming. The brightest lights are slowly fading, and some are disappearing altogether from sight. 

Yesterday, another soft glowing star faded from the constellations that tell the story of a time and a place. 

Go well, Celia.

Celia Mancini by Brigid Grigg-Eyley            

[corkcitylibraries]

A City of Films

by Tim O’Mahony, Cork City Libraries

In addition to books and music, Cork City Libraries offer a comprehensive collection of film on DVD. The Hollywood classics are well represented as are the popular movies of recent years, and the collection includes a range of independent films and world-cinema titles. Currently there are more than 3,000 films in the collection, with multiple copies of some of the more popular titles. And if there is anything you’d like to see in stock which you cannot find on the catalogue, please suggest it as an addition to stock.

We also hold a range of non-fiction films and documentaries covering subjects such as wildlife and nature, history, travel, keep-fit, literature, and filmed stage productions. The Rory Gallagher Music Library has a collection of operas, Broadway musical productions, and rock, pop, and folk concerts on DVD.

Movies for all The same lending rules apply in film as for all our stock: Members of the library can borrow up to twelve items at a time, any or all of which can be films. The loan period is three weeks. Reflecting the decisions of the Irish Film Classification Office some of our film holdings are restricted to borrowers over 18. And don't forget that public libraries in the Republic now operate on a nation-wide basis, so when checking the national catalogue, Encore, if an item is held by a library authority other than Cork City Libraries, you may request it to be sent to Cork for pickup, free of charge.

A City of Films Going to the cinema is as popular as ever in Cork though the venues have changed over the years. A number of commercial cinemas operate in the city centre, suburbs, and satellite towns, while lovers of art-house movies and world cinema are catered for at Triskel Christchurch on Tobin Street. The Cork Cine Club, operating out of Saint John’s Central College, Sawmill Street, is another option. Season 20 runs until April 11th 2019, on Thursday nights. The Cork Film Festival has been running annually since 1956, and the 2019 event will run from November 7th to November 17th. Its programme includes feature films, shorts, and documentaries from Ireland and around the world - films are shown at The Everyman Theatre, Triskel Christchurch, and the Gate Cinema.

IndieCork is another film event, celebrating independent film and emerging filmmakers, and it is due to take place in October 2019. The 29th Cork French Film Festival ran from March 3rd to March 10th 2019. The Fastnet Film Festival takes place each summer in Schull in West Cork.

Films recently added to stock (March 2019):         ‌‌  ‌

The Escape / directed by Dominic Savage (2017) Hereditary / directed by Ari Aster (2018) Ice and the Sky (documentary) / directed by Luc Jacquet (2015) Autumn Almanac = Almanac of Fall / directed by Bela Tarr (1984) The Guardians / directed by Xavier Beauvois (2017) Searching / directed by Aneesh Chaganty (2018) Cold War / directed by Pawel Pawlikowski (2018) The Bookshop / directed by Isabel Coixet (2018) Son of Babylon / directed by Mohamed Al-Daradji (2010) You Were Never Really Here / directed by Lynne Ramsey (2017) Germany, Pale Mother / directed by Helma Sanders-Brahms (1980) Rosa Luxemburg / directed by Margarethe von Trotta (1986) First Man / directed by Damien Chazelle (2018) Mouchette / directed by Robert Bresson (1967) The King's Choice / directed by Eric Poppe (2016) Silence and Cry / directed by Miklos Jancso (1968)

[harryhenry1]

Seeing Our Hospitality starring #busterkeaton with a live #orchestra at the #isaactheatreroyal ! #christchurch #newzealand #films #film #screening #movie #movies (at Isaac Theatre Royal)

[alicecinemas-blog]

Movies In Christchurch