quiet paws.

Happiness is an elusive friend that we can spend our whole life chasing. If the world looks favourably upon us we may be fortunate enough to catch it and then hope to grasp it firmly by hand for the rest of our lives. As with any great friend that we walk with on our life’s journey, there are those jealous and decidedly unscrupulous types who wish to steal our friend for their own.

For a short time Benjamin Barker (Johnny Depp) would have been considered a happy man. He had a successful profession, a beautiful wife and a gorgeous baby daughter. The happily-ever-after fairytale could almost be considered complete. But (and there is always a but), powerful man-about-town Judge Turpin (Alan Rickman) catches a glimpse of this almost perfect picture and desires to possess it for himself. With the help of his greasy henchman Beadle Bamford (Timothy Spall), Turpin has Barker wrongfully arrested and shipped off to prison in Australia. With Barker out of the picture, Turpin is now able to step into his space and take what was never freely offered.

During the fifteen years of Barker’s imprisonment he is seduced by that other most powerful of friends who often springs to our defence in the darkest and most desperate times of need. Sometimes the only way to retain a semblance of sanity and protect ourselves from complete obliteration is to rest in the clutches of revenge. Thus Benjamin Barker is reborn as Sweeney Todd.

The film contains a trifecta of irresistible treats in the form of Tim Burton as Director, Johnny Depp as Barker / Sweeney, and Helena Bonham-Carter as Sweeney’s scheming accomplice, Mrs Nellie Lovett. Firstly, Burton always guarantees a true visual spectacle, and with his careful and considered eye for the beauty and wonder of contrasts, we can trust that his films will provide a sensory experience. Secondly, Helena Bonham Carter is wonderfully surreal, and utterly captivating. Whatever character she is portraying on screen she manages to add some unique part of herself into the role, resulting in an entertaining and radiant performance. And then finally there’s Johnny Depp…well for many reasons he is an absolute joy to watch. In Sweeney Todd he handles the difficult score with ease and once again delivers a heartbreakingly true embodiment of the character he inhabits. He is a master of conveying subtle underlying emotions, so that through his performance we come to understand why Barker had to become Todd, even though we never stop hoping that Barker will once more return to the surface.

While ordinarily even the hint of a musical chills me to my core, there is enough story and substance to be found in Sweeney Todd that I am captured regardless. And yes while there is music, there is also plenty of blood, but at least here it has a place as a vital part of the story. The red, red blood and the vividness of the music combine in glorious fashion to showcase the operatic drama of the story and highlight the dramatic evolution of Barker to Todd. Ultimately at its heart Sweeney Todd is a tragic love story which explores both the sweetness and insistent passion of first love and the consuming bitterness which arises from a love interrupted. It is a story which offers both a visual and emotional transformation that is well worth the experience.

My humble thanks go to you Mr Anderson, for making films infused with such light and life. You give me hope that original stories and unique storytellers have a real chance for survival in the fickle world of Hollywood. I know that when I watch one of your films it will be an ‘experience’ sure to surprise, entertain and intrigue.

I have often heard people speak negatively of your films, suggesting that they have either very little storyline or an utterly incomprehensible plot. Whenever I heard people say these things I would be equal parts confused, angry and frustrated. How could these people overlook your obvious talent? How do they miss the way you use gentle humour to explore different shades of human character and family relationships?

I used to spend a lot of time trying to convince these people of your film making skills and explain to them the finer points of plot that they have failed to notice. I wanted to share your wonderful films with as many people as possible, and just couldn’t bear to be aware of anyone thinking ill of your films.

However, recognising that it is almost an impossible challenge to open the mind of an ignorant person, I decided to stop getting confused, angry and frustrated. In my rush to spring to the defence of your films, I’d neglected to see the positive in all this. For all those people that pass your films over and who have difficulty comprehending the meaning of your art, I can take their unused portion and have more to enjoy for myself. Perhaps as the days trickle by I am getting a little smarter and learning how to better apply my emotional energies.

In this spirit of positivity, I wanted to let you know some of the things that I love about your films…

I love the wonderful pool of actors your draw on to bring your characters to the screen.

I love your unmistakable style which seems to make life appear so much richer and more delicately textured than the reality.

I love the importance that you place on music, in that you make it as much a part of your art as the visual components…the one playing perfectly against the other.

I love your recurring themes of family, joy from tragedy, and the search for self which sometimes seems to happen under the strangest of circumstances.

I love how you make watching your films feel like time spent in the company of a slight odd, yet highly cherished friend. In this way you make me feel that there is someone else out there who ‘gets it’.

So I guess all I’m really trying to say is thanks for the wonder that you create in the world. I hope that I won’t be too greedy with your talent, and I will try to do my best to leave at least a little for everyone else to discover.

A star spangled banner formed the dramatic backdrop to Rufus Wainwright and his seven piece band at their recent Brisbane performance. However the banner in question was far from what one would traditionally expect from an American flag. As pointed out by Rufus at one point throughout the evening, the flag was painted in black and white stripes to represent all the bad things about America, and instead of the usual depiction of stars, the banner was garnished with an assortment of brilliantly metallic brooches to represent all the beautiful things about America.

The banner’s theme was reflected by the band’s attire, which instantly grabbed the attention of the eye as they made their entrance onto the stage. Each band member wore a wide array of coloured striped pants and shirts reflective of their own individual style. The stunning display did not end there, as every member of the band was also richly decorated in a variety of uniquely styled brooches that glistened and sparkled under the lights. Taking to their instruments with relish, there was an unmistakable energy in the room as the music paved the way for the eventual entrance of the glorious Rufus Wainwright.

Without too much delay he arrived, and the theatrical troupe was now complete. As wonderful as all the band member’s looked, Rufus most definitely outshone them with his fantastic red and white striped suit (minus a shirt), gold metallic shoes, and an almost startling collection of jewels which he seemed to wear wherever bare skin was available – fingers, wrists, and around his neck. His fabulousness was completed by a healthy smattering of silver brooches across his suit jacket and down his pant legs.

Launching straight into the title track from his latest album ‘Release the Stars’, the room sparkled in dancing-mirror-ball-magic and was hushed in appreciation of Rufus’ mastery of dramatic showmanship. And what a show it was! In the audience it felt that Rufus and his band would perform with the same level of intensity and pizazz regardless of where they were performing, whether that be to a packed house on Broadway, or a venue built on a much smaller scale such as Brisbane’s Tivoli.

As to be expected, the night’s musical set drew heavily from the current album’s repertoire including ‘Do I Disappoint You’, ‘Between My Legs’, ‘Rules and Regulations’, ‘Going to a Town’ and ‘Not Ready to Love’. One of the standout highlights from this album was the beautiful simplicity and raw honesty of ‘Leaving for Paris No 2′ which featured Rufus on piano accompaniment.

There was more than enough on offer to please fans of his earlier work as well, including ‘Poses’, ‘Gay Messiah’, and a wonderfully emotionally wrought performance of ‘The Art Teacher’. Rufus worked the room with so much more than his musical talents. His costume changes could not fail to be mentioned given that they added so much to the ’show’.

Following a short interval, the band returned with Rufus decked out in traditional Bavarian lederhosen. However rather than lose all the sparkle, he chose to retain the beautiful necklace and flashy bracelet from his earlier outfit – a wonderful blend of masculinity and feminine beauty. Between songs Rufus enjoyed a comfortable banter with the audience, telling us of his liking for Byron Bay Surf lifesavers, pronouncing himself as the ‘Queen of Queensland’, and his generally unsuccessful attempts at tackling an Australian accent.

With a raucous rendition of ‘14th Street’ ( Why’d you have to break all my heart?) which raised the performance energy to a higher level, Rufus exited the stage and left his band to individually ’sign off’ musically and exit one by one. It was a visual representation of parting being ’such sweet sorrow’.

The stage was not left bare for too long however. After all there is always time for one more costume change, and Rufus did not disappoint. Returning to the stage in a large white bathrobe, the only hint of what lay beneath was a glimpse of stockinged legs. After performing for a short while like this, the play entered another act. Sitting on a chair at the front of the stage Rufus made as if he was sneaking into his mother’s precious things – jewelling himself up once again with earrings and a ring, before applying a rich red lipstick and swapping his sensible shoes for some seriously high heels.

Then as the band returned to the stage all in black suits, bowties and pale pink shirts, Rufus moved to the back of the stage to disrobe…and then all was revealed. Wearing the top half of a tuxedo, hat, and just the stockings beneath, Rufus ramped up the razzle dazzle factor with a fun performance of Judy Garland’s ‘Get Happy’, that had everyone on stage play acting along with the best of them.

With a traditional stage goodbye which had the cast line up before us and take a bow, the band left the stage with a kiss blown from the hand of Rufus. A fitting end to a lovingly crafted performance.

With the end of 2007 and the start of 2008 I thought it appropriate to reflect on some of the last things that I did in 2007. So without further ado…the last:

CD I Purchased – Rain on Lens (Smog)

Movie I Watched – The Darjeeling Limited

Dinner – Curry Lentil Pie and Roast Potatoes

Breakfast – Buttered Raisin Toast and Soy Flat White (in a mug)

Book I Purchased – Heart is A Lonely Hunter (Carson McCullers)

Book I Finished Reading – One Hundred Years of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)

DVD I Purchased – Marie Antoinette

Live Music Event I Went to – Nick Cave (Solo) and Grinderman

Chocolate Bar – Fry’s Turkish Delight

Christmas can be a strange time of year, bringing to the surface conflicting emotions, heightened expectations, broken promises and long cherished memories. Aside from the overly sweet and often hollow carols which assault our ears in December each year, there are other less conventional songs which feel so much more real. Such songs deliver all the chaos of Christmas and provide us with an alternative view.

One song in particular that always comes to mind is Fairytale of New York by The Pogues. Performed as a captivating duet between The Pogue’s Shane MacGowan and Kirsty MacColl, it is a song which covers a wealth of human experiences that we can all relate to…

Got on a lucky one
Came in eighteen to one
I’ve got a feeling
This year’s for me and you
So happy Christmas
I love you baby
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come true…

You were handsome
You were pretty
Queen of New York City
When the band finished playing
They howled out for more
Sinatra was swinging,
All the drunks they were singing
We kissed on a corner
Then danced through the night…

I could have been someone
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can’t make it all alone
I’ve built my dreams around you…

Apart from simply being a great song, ‘Fairytale of New York’ reminds me that even the best situations can fall victim to the reality of circumstances. It also highlights the diversity of experiences that Christmas can bring to people all over the world. Such messages of life are important for now and any time throughout the year.

If I was to be a song I would like to be a song crafted by the hand of Nick Cave* – rich with melancholic overtones, resplendent in aching beauty and emotionally real in a way that resonates with the heart and the soul.

He is an artist who never fails to get under my skin, weave his way right to my core, and commune with the very essence of who I am. With word and with melody he is a master craftsman capable of building the most wondrous of things.

I hold in the highest regard all those that build something real in this world; those who create something unique that no other person can ever hope to imitate. What we make does not have to rival the highest mountain or outshine the greatest works of art held in museums, it is simply something of ourselves that touches against the world. Whether that is a song, a novel, a house, a bridge or a pancake – the detail of what we construct is not important. Without even intending to, our creations will always be unique regardless of the scale on which we are working.

For all those that take care to craft with thought and consideration, please accept this simple gift of praise and admiration. In appreciation of your efforts I present here something crafted of my own hand, something beyond these words. Something which required my hands to learn a new language and work in unison towards a common goal. Something that no one else could craft in quite the same way. Nothing special I know, just a simple knitted scarf as worn by Lee… and yet without me this scarf would not exist.

We are all artists at some point within our lives without us necessarily being aware of it. Perhaps we don’t win Oscars, perhaps our designs don’t appear on the catwalks of Paris, and perhaps we haven’t been awarded the Man Booker prize for fiction. In fact what we craft may only be seen by one person or shared with a select few. Whatever the size of our receiving audience, our efforts should still be recognised.

We marvel at great architecture, gaze in disbelief at the immensity of natural wonders and stand awe-struck by other people’s artistry. We live amongst these beauties of the world, showing them due respect. However we should never forget that we are ourselves creators capable of many great things.

*PS. Happy times indeed in the world of QuietPaws!! This week I discovered that Nick Cave is returning to Australia for a National tour. I think you can guess who will be amongst the audience.

Here on the East Coast of Australia we are currently caught within the clutches of a deep, dark winter….well I say deep, dark winter but here winter is more often than not bright and fleeting. Still a girl can dream…

While we may not get the driving rain, the sleet, the snow or the biting cold, we do get some beautifully crisp and bone chillingly cold winds which are felt deep within even the warmest of souls, reminding us what it is to be alive in this world. These winds rattle the trees to the core of their textured hearts, race past windows as they call with ghostly songs, and threaten to capture those without firm footing or calm sanctuary.

But just as these winds can unsettle and steal as they move on their fanciful flight, they also transport magic on their unseen wings. One such delivery dropped from the sky at my door on the back of a particularly blustery breath of the earth. This delivery did not come in the form of a person, an animal or in fact an individual of any description. This delivery was instead in the form of a song, a voice that emerged from the pool of life still dripping with honest intention and the most beautiful sensations of a place that many have long forgotten. I speak of the extraordinarily talented musician, Will Stratton and I thank these sweet winter winds for their gift. In the spirit of unexpected pleasures which winter brings I thought it fitting to unwrap this gift here with you.

If we speak quietly the wind can be trusted to turn its ear to softly whispered secrets and the promise of future wonder. Stratton is a singer-songwriter who hails from America and his debut album What the Night Said will be released soon – on the 24 July 2007 to be precise. He writes with incandescent light that shines brightly to expose hidden beauties and almost forgotten meanings. His lyrics are delivered with delicate respect for the fragile nature of the living word and with perfectly pared back simplicity.

‘Sunol’
The owls are singing, I must
Sing along with them and find out
Where I began, where I began

In this song Stratton demonstrates a sweetly melodic voice that is rich in memories and recollections, balanced against the trickling sounds of a rising and falling guitar. This is music pleasing not just to the ear; it causes the soul to stir and the spirit to smile.

‘I’d hate to Leave You’
And you understand what I
I mean when I say that I’m heartless just like flint
That never sparks

Here we find irresistible textures and a chorus which pulls the listener into its world of rich warmth and emotion. This song is a thickly painted canvas full of sweeping strokes and strong visuals realised in musical form. A selection of tracks from Stratton’s forthcoming album are available for all of our listening pleasure on his myspace site, which is well worth the visit.

Bearing witness to something incredible within its natural environment is a truly wondrous thing. Coffee always tastes better first thing in the morning, grasped between two cold hands. Roaring fires provide the perfect accompaniment to cold wintry days. Wildlife is best appreciated in the remotest parts of nature. This is not to say that the experiences outside these natural settings wouldn’t be enjoyable, but they just don’t feel as balanced as they would otherwise be.

So was the fortunate experience of witnessing Pete Molinari at Ric’s Bar in Brisbane. While seeing him three days previously at The Living Room in support of Ash Grunwald was pure magic, his latter performance was more fluid, more ‘in the moment’, and felt more him.

For any support artist, as Molinari was to Grunwald, it must be a unique experience to perform to a crowd that are obviously not there to see you and may or may not give themselves the chance to appreciate your performance. While the crowd gradually grew in numbers during Molinari’s performance, it was obvious that the majority were more interested in enjoying a not so quiet ale until Grunwald arrived.

That need to get the right mix of venue, crowd and artist was obviously a dilemma Molinari had recently faced. Taking to the stage for his solo set at Ric’s he mentioned that it had been strange for him because he had been playing a lot of surf gigs. He spoke of the audience reaction, ‘The more they liked it, the more I didn’t like it, and then the more they seemed to like it. In the end we came to a mutual decision and we both kind of liked it…this venue is much more my style, it’s very New York.’

At Ric’s, Molinari was the starring act. When he started playing his guitar and singing his tunes, people passing by were lured in, unable to resist the call and charm of his songs. Telling us that he hadn’t even had a chance to put together a set list for today, he appeared to be completely relaxed and turned in a sublimely attuned set which included some tracks from his album (Walking Off The Map), some tracks not yet released and some excellent covers.

Starting with a track from his album, ‘Love Lies Bleeding’, this is a song which exudes a subtle delicacy in both lyrics and melody. The feelings and sentiment it conveys hang in the air and leaves listeners in awe of its sad and soulful charm. Then to one of his yet to be released tracks, ‘New York City’, which is a lament to all that is loved and loathed about a city, the days when it can seem like your best friend or your worst enemy, but through it all the city is always there. Another yet to be released track, ‘The Man That I am’ is like experiencing a folksy blue embrace. Filled with yearning, hope and honesty, this is a ‘real’ song delivered with poetic rawness, and accompanied by some emotive harmonica playing.

Covering the classics in charming style, Molinari delivered a richly textured rendition of Hank Williams ‘My Heart Would Know’. Like everything he sings this song in a way which strikes right to the heart, and in captivating fashion so that time feels like it stands still while it too pauses to appreciate Molinari. Getting in touch with his European heritage, Molinari launched into a beautiful and intensely energetic version of ‘Marina’, performing verses in both English and Italian. With his unique and wondrously real vocals, Molinari had the girls dancing and the guys tapping their feet. Then sampling a bit from the country side of the tracks, Molinari closed his set with some Cash. His ability to be very much in a moment, all heart and soul, is what helps to make his version of ‘Folsom Prison Blues’ so spine tingling good.

Molinari is a masterful performer, snappy dresser and all round nice guy…the spirits are contented, the world breathes easy and all is as it should be.

There are many things in life which frustrate and disappoint. Never are these emotions more keenly felt then when discovering art and artists which remain largely unappreciated by the great majority. By art I don’t mean something necessarily lofty and inaccessbile. Art comes in many forms and in this case I refer to the crafting of music by talented singer-songwriters. There are all too many wonderfully talented and highly creative people who deserve much wider attention than they currently receive.

One such person is Ben Mitchell.

A Melbourne-based artist, Mitchell brings a level of authenticity and honesty to his music that really makes him stand apart from the rest. His songs of love, loss, longing and life are packaged straight from the heart and delivered right to yours. Unlike musicians who fail to connect, Mitchell weaves his special blend of musical magic into your soul and you’ll want to carry it with you always.

Take for instance the lyrics from his album’s title track, ‘The Stars Can See’.

‘She was waiting for a clue
For too long making do
He was staring into the skies
She was there in his eyes
Heaven knows where our love goes
And the stars can see…’

It is lyrics like these that convince me that Mitchell is a music lover’s muse. Like an artist’s muse who can inspire great things which are then realised through the creation of a work of art, a music lover’s muse has the ability to inspire and promote a good measure of introspection and reflection in listeners.

Aside from being full of quality music, his album will take you on a journey of self discovery, that is well worth experiencing. What I am most reminded of when listening to his music are those musicians that can only be described as ‘cool’. While ‘cool’ is an adjective that is used to describe pretty anything and everything, Ben Mitchell shouldn’t be grouped en masse in that way. He is one cool cat in the way that only genuinely old-school soulful musicians can be called (check out ‘Kitty Kat’ in particular and you’ll know exactly what I mean) .

Just in the same way that those who invest in art sooner rather than later are able to spend more time appreciating its intrinsic value, by investing in some quality time with Ben Mitchell’s music today, you will be reaping the rewards for many years to come.

Perhaps you’d like to check out the QuietPaws interview with Ben Mitchell. Maybe you’d like to listen to some of his music on myspace (you won’t regret it). Alternatively pay a visit to Ben Mitchell’s official website where you’ll find all sorts of goodies.

The stylishly laidback underground bunker that is The Living Room was the perfect venue for the seriously cool Ash Grunwald. First up though was a performance from UK artist Pete Molinari, in Australia to promote his debut album ‘Walking Off the Map’. Still suffering from jet lag he warned us that he ‘may fall asleep during this’, but with his raw vocals and emotive delivery it was impossible for the audience to suffer from the same problem.

Performing a comprehensive set which included the heartfelt ‘Love Lies Bleeding’, and the beautifully sorrowful ‘Tomorrow Is A Long Time’, Molinari was an engaging live performer.

Just as the crowd really started to bubble over with energy and barely concealed anticipation, Ash Grunwald took to the stage, instantly spreading a sense of calm throughout the excited mob. With his unmistakable dreadlocks, chilled out surf vibe and commanding yet unaffected presence Grunwald is clearly at ease with performing live, minus the arrogance and ego which is often part of the package. He is also a master at connecting with his audience, conversing with them on a range of topics throughout the night and encouraging them to ‘boogie’ and join in with the vocals. However he didn’t want any half-hearted efforts with the singing, at one point complaining that he couldn’t hear any ‘larynx hurting yet’.

Performing a smattering of tracks from each of his releases, there were no gaps in either musical quality or quantity. His jam packed set included the mellow chilled out bluesy beats of ‘Take the Drop’, the cautionary tale ‘Money’, the howling ‘Smokestack Lightning’, and the languorously paced ‘Just Be Yourself’. As for highlights, it was hard to go past the refreshing beach inspired song, ‘1976 Coaster’, which really got the place buzzing with its intense energy. Another particular crowd favourite was ‘Skywriter’, which is as Grunwald puts it ‘about a crazy guy’. With its darker grittier sound and amazing low range vocals, this song showcases Grunwald’s impressive storytelling talents to full effect.

Given the interactive and relaxed nature of Grunwald’s performance, the night was not solely about music, there was much laughter and conversation. However discussion of the evening had to go to the serious assessment of Grunwald’s shoes from both a stylistic and practical perspective. While he recognised that he had some strong views on the matter he thought it best if he ‘got off this whole shoe politics thing’.

Announcing to a disbelieving crowd that this would be his final song, Grunwald really let loose and rocked out hard to ‘Going Out West’, taking the opportunity to ‘unleash the boom’ a few more times. Making moves to pack up his gear, Grunwald conceded ‘Well I’ve gotta do an encore cause you guys absolutely rock’, before launching into one of his signature tracks ‘Dolphin Song’. This real life tale about being saved from a shark by a pod of dolphins told with humour and in traditional bluesy style, was an entirely fitting end to a very satisfying musical evening.

I originally wrote this article for ‘The Dwarf‘.