Ok, so Sarah and I are sitting in the computer lab, late on Sunday night, writing our film proposal and shooting script.
Here's a rough diagram we are using for our brainstorming. We are open for story lines - just stare (at this fabulous drawing) and share (your idea with us). We head to Mt Aspiring National Park tomorrow so your time starts now.

Please note: ideas and plots will be considered up until May for our June screening).

P.S. I forgot to mention I have hidden a couple of new posts amongst my old ones... I think.

Trees trees trees - All this talk but where's the walk?

Let the hunt... begin *DRAMATIC MUSIC*









Even in the middle of a city we hunt out the only we-ain't-botanists-but-we-can-tell-what-this-is beech tree in Dunedin (a.k.a. the only labelled one)










So this is where all those long hours of research pay off - we know what the scientific name is (lets not get into pronounciation)









But you can never be too sure about those labels. Best to check the tag around the trunk...













...then play 'expert' and give your partner confidence that you actually know what you're looking for by pretending to inspect the tree (it is very important to include the 'hmmm', 'not divaricating, i see...' and various other sounds of contemplation - basically all the skills you learn from an ecology degree).















Lastly inform the masses, who are waiting on the edge of their seats, that yes... this is in fact... a beech tree.















Now stand back and let the unification take place.










But NO TOUCHY!

It's all about letting the pictures breathe...






...a few thousand feet up in the air.



Big-Ups to Bojunizzle for getting these pics to me - via film camera & scanner!
I don't see the point in rambling on about the aerial photography trip (even though it was faaaantastic), as everyone else has already blogged about it *HINT: check out the other blogs yo*

*PLEASE ADOPT AN OTT INFOMERCIAL VOICE WHEN READING THIS NEXT POST ALOUD*
Are you sick of searching for a reason to check up on my sporadically updated blog? WELL SEARCH NO MORE

Stayed tuned such misadventures as "When Lu and 3 other unwilling design students tried to design the students association", "What's that lumpy thing at the bottom of my bubble tea?", "How NOT to take a real estate agency to the tenancy tribunal" and "How the hell did our MOTHRA get best original score??". You can be sure all these and more will somehow be associated with the NHFC course, whether you like it or not.

So folks, keep that cursor on that refresh button!

And now something for those who are up-to-date with my posts.

This weekend I sucked in my gut and squeezed into the front cab of a 12-seater van with 12 other people. 5 hours and one 5-minute toilet stop later, we were in the Christchurch University Students Association building. With only 10 minutes stuff four faces with pizza and dress in black, it was about halfway through our first song that the indigestion hit and the legs started to seize up again. We hammered away for a good hour and a half while Joko played with shadow puppets. Believe it or not but this was the performance we had been practicing for all year and was the first time we had actually gone the whole way through and seen the puppet show. I guess you would believe it if you were there as we easily got distracted by the puppet show and lost track of when to start each song. We thought we were safe from judging eyes as we were behind the puppet screen, until suddenly the entire auditorium got out of there seats and started poking around the stage, watching our every move, our every mistake. Despite my sweaty palms, it was really cool to see their curiosity and fascination, just like a real show in Indonesia. Unlike a real puppet show, this one did not go on for 8hrs non-stop (as Joko used to do 6 nights a week for 4 months back in his younger days). Afterwards, everyone got to have a wee tinkle and we got to stuff ourselves with more pizza.

One the Saturday, there was a gamelan workshop where anyone could come along and have a go at Balinese or Javanese gamelan. Anyone, that is, who could work out how the hell to get into the locked theatre (it took us about half an hour and we were meant to be hosting it). So yea, it could have been the hidden access or the complete lack of advertising but no one came. I think we were all pretty stoked as we got more or less one-on-one lessons from Wayang from Wellington who is an absolute percussion genius (not as good as Joko mind you) but this guy was insane when in came to complicated rhythms from just two notes. It’s a shame most of us lost our hearing thanks to the smash-the-keys-as-hard-as-possible technique that the Balinese insist on.

So yea, the rivalry between the two gamelan was pretty obvious that night, as we had to alternate between our Javanese group and the Christchurch Balinese group, us in our two day old smelly black gear and them in their blazer jackets, sarongs and bandanas. Joko was pretty obvious with his watch-checking and the Christchurch Wayang was obvious with his disgusted facial expressions. But we loved it!

After a show you celebrate right? So when in Rome... you head to DuxDelux. Only all those who aren't students actually went, and then there was me. No horror stories mind you, just a sob story. Yup. Never let a struggling teacher head down the money track when you're trying to celebrate. The semi-jokish 'can you find me a job in Melbourne?' question from Joko to a friend who had come over from Oz to play with us (an incredible 'gender' player) quickly turned into a 'let me tell you a secret'. Well this so-called 'secret' was enough to make everyone stare at the floor with glazed eyes.

Joko is one of Indonesia's most prestigious puppet masters. Not many people can work puppets, tell stories and conduct gamelan for a whole night with the level of skill he has. Last time he went home, with his Kiwi wife and two kids, the head of Police begged him to play at his party. "Name your price" were the only words that made Joko reconsider accepting such a challenge after years of not practicing. 50 million Rupiah. There was not even a blink of an eye from the head of Police. After all, he was the most popular puppeteer. Now, he teaches gamelan part-time at Otago Uni. Incredibly patient, bubbling with smiles and always willing to help out in his free time. But a part-time lecturers wage, even though he puts in more time than most fulltime lecturers, is not exactly enough to support a family. And so he began his part-time job at night. We were all dumbfounded as to how to cheer up the mood from there. I'm pretty sure that was the only time I've been in a group that hasn't slandered the barmaid who had to kick us out at closing time. Good thing most of us couldn't afford more than one beer. I don't think Joko even finished his.


INSERT VIDEO CLIP HERE


So what now? Our next practice will be for a CD, New Zealand’s second professional gamelan recording, and if I can get my A. into G. there should be a bit of a puppet show video to go along with it.

Can you say G A M E L A N?

Basically it is an Indonesian orchestra. They vary throughout Indonesia - Balinese gamelan is very different from Javenese. Each gamelan can vary in size and instruments. I used to play it in Singapore when I was younger and only just found out Otago, let alone New Zealand, had its very own. From the moment I got in touch with Joko, the otago teacher, I've been hammering and dampening. Enough ranting - here's the goods.

Joko Susilo - 8th generation puppet master from Indonesia. Gamelan teacher at Otago University. Super hero and all-round nice guy. I am in his music performance paper this year.


Ooo and the ornamentation! It's everywhere. This is the top of the gong stand. Helps it to look as beautiful as it sounds!



Shadow puppet shows are an art in themselves, but are always played with gamelan accompaniment. As Joko is also a puppet master, he has made all his puppets.







They are made from buffalo hide and carved using hundreds of different size chisels to cast incredible shadows on the screen. Plated with gold leaf and many colours, they take a whole heap of patience to make. This one is of a forest controlled by an evil god.






This is a brother of the main character, Wayang Kulit, who ventures off to find his family a new kingdom after his brother gambles away their one.



















I wish I could name all the different instruments. There's 'gender', 'ponang', 'sarong'... (my memory puts out about here)


So how does this all relate to NHFC? Well, my slightly over-ambitious goal after this course is over is to head to Indo with my camera and laptop, enrol in an exchange programme and set about sharing the world of gamelan with whoever can be bothered watching my film. It has it all. Sounds, visuals, passion and mystery. I know I'm not exactly the first to want to shed light on gamelan, but who cares. Having something to look forward to is what matters, and those butterflies in my stomach when I think about it are a nice distraction from those knots of stress.

Christchurch - it can bring a tear to your eye, but it just ain't no Gore

It must seem like only yesterday I was ranting on this blog about Shapeshifter and all their goodness. Well it doesn’t stop there. 5 hours driving and a long list of reminders written on the back of my hand of what I should be doing for school is all it takes to make 36 hours away from Dunedin a worthwhile holiday. Shapeshifter were to play with the Christchurch Symphony Orchestra. This was something not to be missed, although the back of my hand was screaming otherwise. We had about 2 hours to shake off those car-journey legs, find food and actually come to grasps that something we had to prepare for a month ago was finally here. Tickets sold out 2 weeks before, and I was lucky enough to get the 3rd to last one.

One mystery was solved that night – what do all those old ladies that supervise the exams do for the rest of the year? They collect your ticket at the door and separate you from your friends stating that your ticket is for upstairs and theirs are for downstairs, and under no circumstances are you allowed to go join them. But no time to waste. It wasn’t long before I found a group of drunk 1st year engineering students and hippies dancing to their own internal tunes. Looking straight down onto the stage was surreal. It was when the orchestral struck its 1st note, the bows all moving in unison, that I realised I had stopped breathing and tears were rolling down my cheeks. U n b e l i e v a b l e was the only way to describe it. The background video of New Zealand landscapes, from cities, to coastlines, to forest and sky, were tainted by the NHFC course, as all I could think about was "how the hell did there get that movement so smooth?! That's waaay too low for aerial photography!" Yup, school is our everything. The caffine-injected all-nighters to catch up on school which followed this weekend get-away were nothing out of the ordinary. But they were the first ones that I don't regret having to do.

I love the tip… the smell… so sweet.

The end of the school term means a crack-down on those I’ll-just-do-it-next-week assignments. The hole I had dug myself was looking more like a grave. Before getting accepted to this course I wanted to make a short film looking at comparisons between NZ’s native bush and its urban counterpart – through time and through levels of impact. I got as far as a short messy clip before I got accessed to the course and decided to choose an easier project.

A new public rubbish bin design, made completely from rubbish – old bikes to be specific. I thought I could be clever and finish the prototype in 1st semester, leaving me less to do when the NHFC course started. My tutor was all for it too, until he saw my prototype and shuddered, claiming to be oblivious to our secret ploy to hide it and it miraculously appear the day it was due. I entered Nikau Bicyclia into a recycled art competition with 2 other design students and all of us received prizes (as there were only 3 entries in our category but we won’t mention that out loud).

So roll round September and there I am rummaging through the rust-splattered tip-shop. As I drove away with 2 broken bike frames, and the tip-shop lady waved having just ripped me off $8, I felt a strong shudder run through me. CHANGE GEARS! Been driving for 7 years but never touched a manual. This will no doubt be a reoccurring point throughout all my posts. But really its just a cry for helpful tips – teaching yourself has its limitations.


Think new life-cycle (how punny) of materials, think irony and metaphors, think city council proposal (or just slap me in the face and shout what-the-hell-were-you-thinking!)

A week later and like magic *POOF* a new prototype is born. Yet the fact that I’m the only person in the whole department to have no marks or feedback for a years worth of work is not exactly confidence building for my final mark. Words of encouragement would be greatly appreciated as that little voice in my head is simply whistling and trying to avoid the subject. I have just finished a 18 page report (mainly pictures) going over the whole years process, but even I don’t want to read it – funny to think that was me inviting you to ask to read it if you want to find out more…

So that was about 30mins ago, and now its time to focus on posting about the times that have stolen all that so-called free time and left my blog full of tumble-weed.

Ok... let the countdown begin. Within the next 18 hours, this blog site will come under attack from the recapping-guru. That's right folks, yet another 3 weeks of excitement will be compressed and relived for your I-have-nothing-better-to-do reading pleasure. So what is there to look forward to you may ask? Partnerships and final film flurries, nosey-skateys, redesigning the university, music worth crying for and poverty stiken PhD Indonesian puppeteer and gamelan masters. Who knows, you may be in for a few video clips and stolen iamges! Are you ready? Right, start holding your breath... NOW!