Skip to content

Advisor

Phnom Penh's Arts & Entertainment Weekly

  • Features
  • Music
  • Art
  • Books
  • Food
  • Zeitgeist
  • Guilty Pleasures

Recent Posts

  • Guilty Pleasures
  • Jersey sure
  • Drinkin’ in the rain
  • Branching from the roots
  • Nu metro

Byline: Greta Kite-Gilmour

Beats and blunts on Death Row

Beats and blunts on Death Row

When most of us say we “grew up with Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre,” we mean we had them blaring on our stereos. When DJ Jam says it, he means he spent his after-school hours with them cutting tunes and passing doobs. The producer and official DJ of the veteran rappers speaks about the pre-fame days, how he scouted Lil Bow Wow and what happened the night The Notorious B.I.G. was killed.

…..

How did you become the official DJ for Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre?
The first person I met from the crew was Kurupt, when I was doing the major college parties at San Diego State University. I ended up transferring colleges to LA, where Kurupt would come visit my campus and rap to my beats. Sometimes I’d hook up with him, Snoop, Warren G and everyone. This is way before they were known. I was making mix tapes back then, and when they heard them they were like, “Oh man, you’re dope!”

Just before I moved to LA, a big club called Jamaica House, opened up in San Diego. All the big stars went there. You’d rock up and Tupac would jump up on stage or Run DMC. The first night they opened I DJ’d with an Akai MPC60 drum machine sampler. I had one before they came out on the market, cuz I knew somebody who knew somebody. People didn’t know what it was – they’d gather ‘round just to see the dude with the weird machine playing all this crazy stuff! One night I was DJing and Dre comes in with [Big] Shug. Dre comes up and asks me to dinner. Next night I’m at a strip club eating this big dinner in Hollywood! He says he’s about to do this project, The Chronic, he thinks I’m a dope DJ, and am I down?

So once I moved to LA a little after, I’d go to the studio with Dre after school. I’d be in my schoolbooks then mixing at the board. One day, in comes Snoop, Kurupt and all them. There was no “Snoop and Dre” back then. So I’m sitting there looking at them and I’m like, “What are you guys doing here?” And they look at me and they’re like, “What are you doing here?!” Everybody just busts up laughing, like, “How did this dude from San Diego just come in and basically infiltrate our camp?” It was that moment where they were both cool with me being their DJ. If it wasn’t for that moment, I dunno, man… I would have been satisfied with either of them, whoever asked me first, I guess. Everyone was just like, There’s got a be a message here or something. So I just started DJing for everyone on Death Row [Records]. It was good how it happened because The Chronic was basically a Snoop-Dre album anyway. And I was behind them both already. It was very organic.

DJ_JAM_ 25190Snoop seems like such a chill guy on stage. What’s he like in person?
Snoop’s such a happy-go-lucky, laidback guy. Nothing really pisses him off, know what I mean? All the other artists are cool with him too. They always come to our dressing room, wherever we are. And whoever they are, he always lets them in, shows respect – country singers, actors, it doesn’t matter. Like 80 percent of the time they’ll come smoke with us, so I keep seeing all these stars who I really didn’t think smoked, and I’m like, “Ohhh, okay. I see now.” (laughs)

Dr Dre seems to have a comparatively less “laidback” persona onstage…
Dre wants to make sure that everything’s just right. He’s very, very, VERY critical of his stuff – too critical, I think, sometimes. But it shows. He’s made some of the best productions and sets ever. The Up In Smoke tour was a perfect example of that. So many elements. I mean, who the hell does that? He’s got the pieces and puts it all together. It was the same with his music-making. It was like he was doing surgery. That’s how he got his name – the Doctor.

You are responsible for scouting Lil Bow Wow in 1993. How did that happen?
We were on tour in Columbus, Ohio and I was sound-checking on stage. Bow Wow’s father waves his hand, so I go over and he says to me, “Hey, this is my kid, and he can rap.” He was six at the time. I pulled him on stage, put on a beat and he starts rapping. I’m like, “Whoaaa!” I take him backstage and tell Dre and Snoop they gotta check this little cat out. Bow Wow just freestyles acapella, and everyone’s blown away. Then Lil Bow Wow’s like, “Play some music!” Dre hits the boombox and he starts dancing his little butt off! So Dre tells Bow Wow and his father to go home, pack, and come on tour with us. And they did. After the tour, we sent for him and his family to come live in LA while we worked on Snoop’s album, Doggystyle. Dre wanted Lil Bow Wow in his studio to suck it all in. But then Dre fell out with Deathrow and Shug so all production stopped. And Lil Bow Wow was just left there. So Dre called Jermaine Dupri and asked him to take him and polish him up. By that time, Snoop had given him his name: Lil Bow Wow. Guess that’s history right there.

You collaborated with The Notorious B.I.G. What was that like?
Well, before Biggie was out there, Puffy, the creative master marketer as he is, said, “Okay, what’s something different we can do to make Biggie known? He called the LA offices and they said that my mix tapes with Snoop and Dre were crazy. Puffy flew Biggie out and said, “Put him in the studio with Jam.” No one had ever made a proper mix tape to promote an artist before this point; it was always a sampler tape – bits of songs off the album that just fade out. Biggie comes into my studio at the radio station with a box full of blunts, we smoke them and I ask him to start rhyming over some beats. He did and we wrote a song, right there on the spot. We called it Real Niggas Do Real Things. We played it on my radio show and it became huge. It’s been copied by so many artists now, when I travel I always go to record stores and buy a different version. I’ve got a giant stack of ‘em from around the world now! So I was there for the birth of Biggie industry-wise, but I was also there the night he was killed.

What happened that night?
There was a big party in Hollywood. It was fun and crazy, and we were all coming out to go to an after-party in Hollywood Hills. The limo pulls up and I get in. We’re all having fun – I was hanging out of the window, waving a bottle of champagne around The Suburbans pull up with Biggie, Puffy, Jermaine and the security and all of a sudden, “bam bam bam!” Everybody hits the deck and somebody pulls me back inside the limo. People scrambling, screaming everywhere, cars screeching. The limo pulls out of the lot and we’re like, “What the hell’s just happened?” So we call Jermaine on the cell phone, Puffy’s next to him and he’s saying, “Biggie’s been hit! Biggie’s shot!” We all beeline it to the hospital. [The doctors] take Biggie upstairs. About 10-15 minutes later we were told he didn’t make it.

Why do you think he was shot?
There’s a lot of things involved. There was the East Coast/West Coast rivalry at its peak. It could have been a jealous fan, or somebody linked to somebody’s crew, or an undercover police thing. Shug had a lot of stuff going on with police. Dre and Shug were going through some stuff business-wise, and personal stuff too. So it could have been any number of things…I couldn’t put my finger on just one.

Wow, that’s a lot of history. So why Cambodia?
Haha! I love seeing all the crazy ideas for clubs and festivals all over the world, from Asia to Ibiza – everywhere! I love seeing the architecture, design, creativity, the money put into it. If I had a club I’d just take all these different crazy ideas from festivals and clubs…one day, maybe. For now, I’m just going to keep producing, and keep DJing around the world ‘til I get tired of it.

Don’t miss DJ Jam at Nova’s Third Anniversary, 9pm, Friday June 6 at Nova Club, #19 St. 294.

Posted on June 4, 2015June 4, 2015Categories MusicLeave a comment on Beats and blunts on Death Row
The craft of the laugh

The craft of the laugh

Remember that awesome international comedian who came to Phnom Penh about three years ago and had the entire room in stitches? If so, I guess you were fortunate enough to catch him in the boarding queue at Phnom Penh airport, probably en route to a gig in Bangkok or KL. Lucky you. The rest of us, meanwhile, were sat patiently cringing in a poorly lit, noisy room wondering how the shit a few haughty drunks with a microphone managed to pass themselves off as a comedy act.

This scene may be unfamiliar to those only now venturing out to comedy nights – an understandable choice, frankly, because until a couple of years ago, there wasn’t any real impetus to do so. In December 2011, recognising a demand for quality live stand up comedy within the country, promoter Dan Riley – with the help of Australian comedy guru Jonathan Atherton and Singaporean comedy promoter Andre Chalson – conceived the Comedy Club Cambodia. Since then, the CCC has grown to create opportunities for rising talents to hone their skills through courses and structured open mic nights. More recently, Comedy Bookers Cambodia (founded in 2014 by Riley, Siem Reap-based comedian Steven Halcrow and Phnom Penh-based Scotty Muldoon) has successfully sourced and secured internationally acclaimed comedy acts for countrywide gigs.

Early Days

Like many nascent art forms, the comedy circuit has undergone a tumultuous journey in order to sustain a viable and esteemed position within the city’s contemporary culture. Now, with several primary host venues having recently closed, coinciding with the impending departure of much-loved CBC Co-Founder and Verbal High open mic founder Muldoon, the comedy circuit faces a whole new set of hurdles. Having worked from the bottom up, however, the lads are no strangers to a challenge. Halcrow explains exactly how one begins building a legitimate comedy scene almost entirely from scratch:

“I met Dan two and a half years ago when the scene only consisted of a couple of guys (Dan, Scotty and [forthcoming Verbal High organiser] Sam Thomas),” he says. “I then returned from the UK to Cambodia a year and a half ago and there were a bunch more guys and girls giving it a go and nicely packed rooms (Equinox will be sorely missed!). I learned a lot in the time I spent gigging in the UK from observing audiences, professionals and fellow open spots alike, and when I arrived in Cambodia I was suddenly in a position where I could apply what I had learned to the fledgling scene here, which, at the time, needed a bit of structure: it was basically a lot of long shows, very raw acts, loud audiences, zero etiquette, and a general lack of awareness of any of the above.”

Realising that international comedy acts were integral to the steady growth of the CCC, Halcrow, Riley and Muldoon joined forces to develop the CBC last year. Shortly after, Muldoon introduced Verbal High open mic nights at Meta House under the CBC umbrella group.

Nu-wave Comedy

Over time, the team has been duly rewarded for the dedication, faith and touch of insanity necessary to guide their vision to fruition, with continuous expansion and new waves of quality homegrown and international acts.

“The comedy scene has definitely grown – we’ve all gotten a little fatter,” Muldoon says. “And since [CCC] began, the city has seen a lot of [international] comics pass through and inspire the local scene to flourish: local expats are able to improve their game by learning from the pros who we are so lucky to have come here, and who are kind enough to share any tips and advice.”
Riley adds, “The expat community has grown to a sufficient level to not only produce enough people able to perform live comedy regularly, but also enough people to demand regular gigs and fill out venues. Sure, I’d like more to turn up for the Comedy Club shows, as we have a lot of costs, but I like the fact that our two monthly open mic nights are usually nicely packed. Outside of Phnom Penh, The Comedy Club Kampot was set up in December last year, and we’ve done three shows already. Sihanoukville is making its debut this month with Martin Mor, and now Full Metal Comics is an established monthly open micer at Sundance.”

Proud Crowds & Methods to Madness

Beyond physical expansion, however, perhaps one of the most important developments within local comedy has been the influx of new informed and devoted audiences. This attribute – though frequently overlooked by the sporadic gig-goer – is one that can be critical to the success of a single event, as well as the continued growth of the art form (and yes, comedy is an art form. Get used to it).

“The audiences are a lot more comedy savvy now and arrive expecting a comedy show as opposed to a drunken ramble,” says Halcrow. “This is testament to the acts that make up the scene who are more committed to writing and not just getting inebriated, standing onstage and winging it in the hope of a cheap laugh. It is developing at a very organic pace and acts are getting better all the time. Acts and audiences are becoming more educated in what stand up is about.”

In this sense, a long-term, almost symbiotic relationship between show value and audience quality has evolved within structured comedy shows. Subsequently, when developing his first Verbal High open mic nights, Muldoon was faced with an all new dilemma: to attract and sustain a previously unfamiliar audience to shows that couldn’t provide drawcard headliners nor consistency in performance quality, but still needed to make a buck or two. His solution? Elephants.

Muldoon explains, “[Many] people just didn’t wanna pay $10 to see an international comedian – that’s crazy cheap. So then it was just about getting bums in seats. A smaller venue was chosen and some free open mic nights were put on. That solved that problem,” he says. “But in doing so it created another: chatty audiences. We couldn’t understand it – you’re at a show, listen/watch the show. Eventually, over time, people started to ‘get’ it and what we were trying to do. When I started Verbal High I decided to charge a dollar entry because then people feel invested in the show and any profits made go to the EARS [Elephant Asia Rescue and Survival] foundation. The crowds have matured alongside us and have grown into full, attentive audiences.”

No Cheap Laughs

The country’s comedy circuit evidently treads the familiar financial tightrope of its creative kin, continuously aiming to achieve a balance between providing quality (and accordingly costly) performers, while creating enough revenue to sustain a long-term scene.

Riley says, “Recently, I’ve had to turn down quite a few guys that are around, purely because we can’t pay their expenses. The model I’ve been forced to work with for Phnom Penh now is having no more than one international headliner per month. If others are willing to come on their own budget, then we’ll gladly host them if they are properly vetted.”

Riley nevertheless empathises with comedians who choose to skip Cambodia while touring the region, having worked closely with several comedy promoters based throughout Southeast Asia.

“There’s a lot more money going around Singapore and Malaysia, so the ticket prices are accordingly higher and they can afford multiple professional comics on the same bill,” he explains. “We have reduced our costs significantly to maintain a really low ticket price – nearly 10 times less than a show in Singapore, for example. The comics who come here are taking considerable pay cuts compared to their usual rates in the region. Thankfully, they still agree to come. A few even return, such as the sensational Glenn Wool, slated for a return this October.”

Cultural Clashes

Regional economic discrepancies clearly influence the prospect of attracting international comedians to the country, which in turn directly affects the growth of the local comedy scene.

However, capital is not the definitive explanation for the comparative success of comedy in surrounding countries. Having already stated the importance of creating a dedicated crowd following, Riley points out that attendance of locals may be an integral factor in doing so – something which is perceptibly higher in neighbouring Southeast Asian comedy clubs.

“Singapore and Malaysia particularly thrive because their audiences are comprised of both expats and English-speaking locals,” Riley says.  “I’m not saying that expats are worse than locals as audience members, but I’ve always heard good things about the shows there – high energy and appreciative – and I think that the locals are a contributing factor to their success.“

That’s not to say that regular locals are non-existent within the crowd. It’s just that if you don’t include the bartenders, the comedians’ girlfriends, or the randoms who just happened to be in the venue that night, you could probably count them on one hand. Though undoubtedly multi-faceted, the most obvious reasons may involve the prevalent language barrier (heightened in the presence of a touring Scotsman with a thick accent and colloquial tongue), and contrasting humour. Anyone who’s watched popular Khmer comedy TV will be familiar with its classic slapstick clowning and OTT caricatures (noobs, YouTube Bayon TV Comedy). In the West, on the other hand, the most successful comedians tend toward their own extremities: either subtle, self-effacing wit, or explosive socio-political commentary (offset by the occasional strategically timed dick joke, of course). It’s not difficult to see where lies a divide.

So, to paraphrase almost anyone who’s ever worked within the local contemporary arts scene, how can that gap be bridged? Perhaps the most practical answer is through the encouragement and support of Khmer comics on the circuit. Riley’s finger is on the pulse, pronouncing Vatthina Tola, Phnom Penh’s only practicing Khmer comedian, as one of the city’s most promising rising talents. “I’d really like to see our only Cambodian comic take his unique act further afield.” Riley says. “I’m working on that…”

Halcrow agrees, adding, “[Thina] is a comic who gigs regularly and is an enthusiastic proponent of comedy in Cambodia.”

COVERAidanKillian

Learning From the Pros

Halcrow, who continues to MC for headlining acts across Southeast Asia, believes that on a long-term basis the growing popularity of comedy throughout the continent will ultimately work to the advantage of the localised comedy scene.

“Southeast Asian comedy in general is growing very rapidly: there’s comedy pretty much seven nights a week in KL, Singapore, Hong Kong and Shanghai as well as the Comedy Club Bangkok and shows in Hanoi, Ho Chi Minh and Yangon,” says Halcrow. “Our aim is to work together with scenes all over the region to bring the best comedians from all over the world to our audiences. Tours of Cambodia, like the one we have set up for Martin Mor this month, will hopefully become a regular thing and will give the local guys the opportunity to gig with some great comics and learn from watching them. The better the local acts are, the stronger the local scene will be and this will lead to a better standard of show.”

Phnom Penh-based performers are already demonstrably reaping the benefits from first-hand performances and training with internationally acclaimed professionals in the field. Upcoming organiser of Verbal High nights, Sam Thomas, perhaps best reflects this in his comedic trajectory. Since taking Irish comedian Aidan Killian’s Comedy Crash Course alongside Muldoon in 2013, the 25-year-old stand-up comic has steadily crafted his own unique performance style and now regularly performs at Verbal High nights, supports various international comedians at CCC shows, and workshops material with anyone keen to join.

“Most people would suggest Sam Thomas as someone who could go pro,” Riley attests. “He’s certainly impressed a lot of guys with his performances, and his dedication to improving both himself and other comics based here is laudable.”

Misbehaving & Farewell Waving

After having spent six years in the country, half of which has been dedicated to comedy, Muldoon confidently passes the open mic reigns to Thomas next month. Though admittedly woeful at his exodus, Muldoon prefers to focus on the accomplishments made and whimsical memories he’s collected along the way.

“There are too many moments to pick from (most being inappropriate to print or even share!),” Scotty says. “One incident involved [comedian] Glenn Wool and I inventing a cocktail shooter, the C-52. Basically a B-52 with the added ingredient of codeine. Was an interesting night after knocking back a few of those!”

On a more sobering note, Scotty adds, “[I’ll miss] all of it, but mostly the supportive community we’ve built up around the scene. I shall look back upon this period with pride and fondness. Thank you, arkun, and muchas gracias. Without an audience there can be no show.”

Give Scotty a hug goodbye at the Comedy Club Cambodia’s upcoming show presenting internationally acclaimed headlining comedian Martin Mor at 8:30pm, Friday May 22 at Show Box, #11 St. 330. Supported by Vatthina Tola, Scotty Muldoon and Steven Halcrow as MC. Read more on Mor on page 15.

Posted on May 21, 2015May 21, 2015Categories Features1 Comment on The craft of the laugh
The Mor, the hairier

The Mor, the hairier

Born into a circus family, Martin Mor didn’t really get a chance to decline a mediocre existence. If anything, the knife-throwing-pyrotechnic-cum-comic has done nothing if not fully embrace a life so far left of centre that, at times, it’s not entirely clear which planet he’s orbiting. He’s performed in front of the British Royal Family and Tina Turner, juggled machetes in an Italian prison, cheated death more times than should be humanly possible, and if that doesn’t impress you, his impeccably kempt beard most definitely will. Oh, and he’s pictured on an arts and entertainment square of Trivial Pursuit in a leotard. It’s little wonder, then, that he chooses comedy as an outlet for his outlandish, often inconceivable capers, delivering devilish, animated shows that have the unique ability to simultaneously charm the pants off the entire room while having hecklers shit themselves (hopefully with their pants still on at this point).

INTERVIEW

1. Why did you quit the circus and turn to comedy?
I was working on a new act that involved juggling basketballs while balancing on top of an 8-foot ladder. I had a fall, resulting in a broken ankle and six weeks off work. I was friends with English comedian Dave Gorman and he suggested that, while off work, I should go and check out the new comedy club that had just opened in Manchester. The owner already knew of me so he booked me to do a paid set at his club. So the first time I ever set foot in a comedy club I was working as the headline act doing my comedy juggling set.

2. You’ve performed in front of some pretty varied and unique audiences. What kind of material does one perform to inmates of an Italian prison?
I do shows for all sorts of audiences, from kids’ comedy, family shows, to edgy adult stand-up shows. In the Italian prison show, I did my knife throwing act. In this particular act, I start out with regular-sized throwing knives, and finish up throwing machetes. For the big finish, I give a member of the audience a machete to throw at me, I catch it and juggle with two other machetes. When I reached a machete to one of the prisoners to throw, the warders all looked pretty worried….It all worked out fine. Taking a bag of big knives into a prison…what’s the worst that can happen?

3. What makes you laugh?
I really like laughing, and do it a lot. Today i was made to laugh by seeing a very small adult, carrying a very large child. I’m still laughing about that now.

4. What’s your opinion on hecklers?
I love hecklers. I believe that live comedy is an interactive performance – the audience joining in is what makes it such a great art form. The only really annoying heckles are when the heckler is too drunk and just shouts out incoherently. That’s no use to a comedian.

5. You have been involved in everything from a high-speed motorway crash to being shot at by a drunken German. What do you think is the closest you’ve come to “the end”?
Comedians do not fear death. We have all died many times…and lived to tell the tale.

6. You have sported an incredibly impressive beard for some time. How do you feel about the fact that they are a bit of a hipster trend now?
I’ve had a long beard for about 20 years now, so I’ve seen facial hair come in and out of fashion a couple of times. Now that beards are fashionable, the same young men who might have drunkenly shouted “ZZ Top” at me in the street are now complimenting me, and asking for grooming tips.

7. What are your top tips for growing and maintaining it?
Step 1: Be a man.
Step 2: Stop shaving.
Step 3: Enjoy looking awesome.

8. Some people believe that a man with a beard is hiding something. How much truth do you think there is to this statement?
That is a strange notion to me? Having a beard is the natural state for the males of our species – shaving is the unnatural thing. The men who scrape all of their facial hair off every day are the ones to be viewed with suspicion.

9. Do you ever use your beard to hide things in it?
In my kids’ show, I do a magic trick where I keep producing things that are hidden in my beard. The largest thing is a ten pin bowling ball.

10. How would you describe your comedic style in ten words or less?
I’m a big, shouty, sweary, beardy, funny motherfucker! (Is motherfucker one word or two?)

The Comedy Club Cambodia and Comedy Bookers Cambodia present Martin Mor, 8:30pm Friday May 22 at Showbox, #11 St. 330. Supported by Vatthina Tola, Scotty Muldoon and Steven Halcrow. Advance tickets from Showbox or at the door for $5.

 

Posted on May 21, 2015May 21, 2015Categories UncategorizedLeave a comment on The Mor, the hairier
Tumbling to a new beat

Tumbling to a new beat

Before 2013, SLR-laden tourists and backpackers from around the world flocked to Siem Reap for one major reason. Since its conception a little over two years ago, however, Phare, the Cambodian Circus has provided culture-seeking visitors an additional point of interest outside the ruins of Angkor. Now, the number one non-temple attraction in the city, the nightly indoor shows by a troupe comprising students and graduates from Phare Ponleu Selpak Association – an NGO arts school in Battambang – has grown to attain international recognition and acclaim.

Ten years before Phare, the Cambodian Circus – an annual touring circus show involving national and international performers – was conceived by Phare Performing Social Enterprise and PPSA. Known as Tini Tinou International Circus Festival, 2015 will mark its 9th year of touring, during which it will stop through Phnom Penh, Siem Reap and Battambang between May 7-16, presenting workshops and parades as well as themed circus shows.

Despite running for just short of a decade, Tini Tinou Festival organiser Melissa Fornaux admits that it didn’t get to this point without having endured some major hardships along the way, following a plotline familiar to many who have attempted to cultivate an artistic venture within the local environment. “It started in 2004, mainly as a way to promote and develop the Cambodian art scene. Unfortunately, it was cancelled in 2010 due to funding limitations,” Fournaux says.

Thanks to a combination of good timing, a tonne of talent and resourcefulness, and a perhaps a spot of good fortune, however, Fournaux and her team were afforded an opportunity to take a second stab at reviving their vision. “Last year, Phare artists were invited by the European Delegation in Cambodia to perform for the Europe Day. PPSE and PPSA saw an opportunity to revive the festival, with new financing and a brand new format. The two nights in 2014 were a success, so we’re back this year.”

Cover - NCSC2

Last year’s comeback festival ran over two days in Phnom Penh, featuring all Cambodian troupes. With more experience to draw upon and some careful long-term planning, this year’s Tini Tinou has exploded into a 10-day festival across three cities, featuring two Cambodian troupes (Battambang’s PPSA and Phnom Penh’s National Circus School of Cambodia) and four international troupes from Taiwan (Formosa Circus Arts), Vietnam (Heritage Social Ho Chi Minh City), France (O Ultimo Momento) and Switzerland (Les Papillons).

“For this edition, our goal was to have a very varied show, each showing the specificity of a country,” Fournaux says. “All international artists as well as the National Circus School of Cambodia have designed new shows specifically for Tini Tinou. This year’s festival will involve circus acts – juggling, acrobatics, diabolo, Chinese pole – but all of them performed with different techniques. One troupe also performs magic tricks (Heritage Social Ho Chi Minh City) and another one rythmic gymnastic (Les Papillons). Phare’s circus show features circus acts, theatre, dance and live music.”

But Fournaux says the Tini Tinou mission runs deeper than just showcasing a variety of different performance arts and their cultural variations. “The goal of the Tini Tinou Festival is to enhance cultural exchange between performers and development through the arts, which is also one of the missions of Phare,” Fournaux explains. “We’re trying as much as we can to create an atmosphere of sharing: each troupe shares its own experience of art as well as its different techniques through workshops. We believe that everyone has their own way of understanding the arts, so sharing is also a way to broaden one’s horizons and to personally develop.”

Artistic Director of Phare, the Cambodian Circus, Bountheun Houn agrees that personal development is a major objective of both the festival and the circus school itself, the achievement of which he believes is frequently reflected among his own students.

“I’ve known the artists for a long time and I’ve seen many of them change. Their personal behaviour has definitely changed,” Houn says. “They have developed the skills to pursue other things over a long time. Many have become more independent and, in fact, now like to work more privately, rather than in groups.”

This raises an important question regarding the future prospects of the students after they have completed their training at PPSA. Having received such specific training, what options are there for those who either do not wish to perform in the circus at the end of their training, or reach the point where it is no longer viable to continue performing due to their age, ability or competition from younger entrants?

Fournaux assures that, due to the carefully considered, holistic syllabus of the school, options for graduates of PPSA are many and varied. “Most of the artists who stopped performing are now circus teachers at our mother NGO Phare Ponleu Selpak,” she says. “Performance art is a very specialised domain, but Phare Ponleu Selpak is also a school. It means that the circus artists didn’t only study circus, but also received traditional education. Some of them also tour internationally, in Europe and the US, which gives them ideas and opportunities to develop.

“Phare also created a Career Development Programme and organises various training courses related to artistic and non-artistic fields, in order to give artists more opportunities to develop in their personnal and professionnal lives,” Fournaux adds. “Our main goal at Phare is to give artists the keys for self-development and to manage their own lives.”

Cover - PPS3

Houn himself is a real-life example of this model. “Before [becoming Artistic Director at Phare] I used to be an artist and circus teacher. I performed in [Phare circus shows] Sokha and Putho, in which I was an acrobat and clown. Then I started managing artists, working with the artists at the school to perform at small private events around the country.”

Sreyleak Noi, a young contortionist and handstand specialist in Tini Tinou, joined the PPSA when she was nine years old and went on to join the circus school when she was 13. Before this, she sold cakes with her mother and sisters in her hometown in Battambang.

Noi says that her decision to join the circus school was, in fact, based largely on the graduate opportunities which the PPSA had to offer. “The circus school was different from the other programmes offered at the school. I saw the older generations of circus performers from Phare earning money and traveling abroad and I wanted that for myself too,” she says. “I was able to go to public school for free and to learn circus performing as well. Later, I could attend workshops and travel, always learning new things. The best thing is always being able to learn.”

At age 25, Noi has travelled to 10 different countries in Asia, Europe and Africa to attend workshops, perform, and to teach other international performers. Whether while traveling or through being involved with Tini Tinou Festival, Noi reiterates the importance of learning through interaction and exchange with performers from around the world.

“I learn a lot from meeting international performers and seeing them perform,” she says. “Everybody’s technique and styles are different. I sometimes keep in touch with them too.”

Formosa

With continuous learning and development clearly a key motivator for Noi, she hopes to one day share her knowledge with younger generations. “I want to continue to perform as long as I can keep learning new things,” she says. “But I would also like to create my own show, maybe shows for children.”

If Noi is representative of other PPSA students and Tini Tinou performers, it appears that the PPSA and Tini Tinou organisers are indeed accomplishing their mission in terms of student learning and development through the school and festival.

Fournaux hopes that on a wider scale the festival will also serve as an inspiration for the growth and rejuvenation of the Cambodian arts scene.

“The goal of the festival is also to inspire Cambodian youth; to share art with the Cambodian community where access to it is reduced. That is one of the reasons why we’re inviting children of NGOs and communities,” she says. “The Cambodian performing arts sector is still in a rebuilding state, so I hope that the festival will allow the interest for circus and performing arts among Cambodians to grow.”

Fournaux is quick to emphasise, however, that, while it stems from an NGO with a long-term social mission for its students and the wider arts community, Tini Tinou is still, at its heart, a festival, a central purpose of which is to engage, amuse and inspire.

“It’s important to remember that the festival is entertainment – we want people to have fun. What I personally hope is that every person coming, children as well as adults, will be inspired by all the talented young artists who will perform.” Fournaux adds, “And of course, I hope that this edition will be as successful as the last, to allow us to organise a bigger and more amazing Tini Tinou next year!”

Tini Tinou International Circus Festival will perform at the National Circus School of Phnom Penh, National Assembly Street, from 6pm, Thursday May 7-Saturday May 9. See www.pharecambodiancircus.org for ticketing and programme information.

Posted on May 7, 2015May 7, 2015Categories FeaturesLeave a comment on Tumbling to a new beat
More than a facade

More than a facade

Taking a quick break from his latest painting project – a giant naga winding up the wall of the Institut Francais – street artist Theo Vallier wastes no time reeling off the events, challenges and objectives involved in the upcoming Cambodian Urban Art Festival, curated by him and fellow street artist known as Chifumi.

In a paint-spattered T-shirt and adrenalin-fuelled, but carefully articulated speech, Theo explains, “On April 23rd there is the opening party [at Institut Francais]. There will be all different things: one exhibition of Chifumi and my artworks in the gallery on one side; on the other there are big murals painted by the artists involved; Skateistan has an exhibition of hand-painted skateboard decks, all made in Cambodia; then the KlapYaHandz show will be in the garden.”

Pausing to point out a name and image on the festival brochure, Theo continues with contained excitement, “We also have Alias, who is a light painter. He does what we call ‘light graffiti.’ He sets up a long exposure camera in the dark and he works in front of walls with graffiti. He uses light to draw things in the air in front of the graffiti, and with the long exposure, it sticks on the photo like a drawing. He can’t see what his picture will look like until after it is captured. He will be showing his series of photos using this unique technique.”

Running from Thursday April 23 to Sunday May 17, the first Saturday of the festival will include a tuk tuk tour of several prominent murals around the city, painted by selected artists in the lead-up to the event.

“There will be around 30 tuk tuks and it’s free admission. These artists will have a wall to paint around the city,” Theo says, holding up a flyer including familiar names such as Lisa Mam and Peap Tarr, as well as newcomers, including 17-year-old locals  Davido and Koy.

cover6

 

Theo explains the event and the process of gaining permission to paint with a hint of urgency: at the time of speaking, with only 13 days until the tour, authorisation is yet to be formally acquired.

“We will be starting soon. The thing is that we are working with the government on that project, the municipality. We have to ask permission to paint the wall on the street so we don’t get into any trouble from police. So we had to ask the artists to send a sketch of what they wanted to do – colours, design, everything – send them all to the government municipality, and wait for their answer. We finally got a ‘yes’ a week ago, but until then we were quite stressed. But we don’t have the official letter from them yet. Most of the places to be painted are very high exposure, so we can’t start without that. Within 13 days, we need to get that letter and the artists need to start and finish all their work.”

Both Theo and co-curator Chifumi are no strangers to the complications involved with painting publically, particularly in a city in which street art is still a relatively nascent concept. To further drive home the point, Theo receives a phone call only moments after chatting, informing him that the authorisation he had previously received to paint one of the public walls has been retracted.

Theo remains optimistic, however, focusing on the flip-side of pioneering an industry whose accessible, emergent nature affords the perfect opportunity for creative innovation and growth.

“Painting here is different from other cities. There are not a lot of artists, there are not a lot of painted walls around, so it’s easier to find free walls. Our idea for this festival is really to bring more creativity together in Cambodia. To show the young generation we can also paint on the walls and do nice things. This is also the message we want to send to the municipality: it’s not vandalism, its art. Real art. So we are bringing colours to the city, for everybody, for free.”

Theo adds, “It’s a lot easier for most people to access street art than to walk in the gallery – most [locals] will never pass the door of a gallery. Most Cambodian people don’t really even know where contemporary art is or why, or what it is about. The good thing with street art is that it’s free for everybody and that it’s easy to access.”

The confidence Theo maintains despite administrative setbacks is perhaps at least partially related to the comparative ease with which the entire project was made possible in the first place, thanks to ongoing help and support from the Institut Francais.

“They have been helping us from the beginning. It’s a lot easier to establish contact with the municipality since we are French artists in Cambodia doing it through the institute. If we went to knock on the governor of Phnom Penh’s door and just said, ‘Hey we want to paint on some walls,’ he’d be like, ‘Go away, please.’ It has been a lot easier to work with the French Institute. They have helped us a lot and it’s what’s made us able to do this as big.”

 

Cover1

The concept for the festival, which Theo and Chifumi aim to repeat and develop annually, began way back when the artists began collaborating two years ago.

“We wanted to really try to create something within the context of Cambodia in terms of art and creativity. We want to show the young generations here that they can take their own culture and rework it in a more modern way,” Theo says. “All the work I’m doing with the Khmer patterns like the naga and Chifumi’s apsara hands are exactly that: it’s the idea to make the old culture more modern. It’s really not to look at what’s happening overseas, bring it here and copy it. We would really like for people here to appropriate this old style of Khmer art practice – because this culture is just super rich –to create something new and all their own.”

With an aim to promote all forms of local urban art, the festival will not be limited to painting, additionally including a hip hop performance and skateboard art. While these art forms are deeply rooted within an urban culture originating in America, Theo believes the urban art scene represents an important underlying mindset and attitude which is just as applicable and relevant to the emerging Cambodian youth culture.

“From the very beginning, graffiti was part of hip hop culture. Artists of both kinds really connected, always working together, and that’s way back at the very beginning of hip hop in the US,” Theo says. “[The art forms] still have that link, and skateboarding fits well with the two, especially here in Cambodia. I think it’s good to bring these kind of underground cultures and people together in Cambodia. It’s a way to be different, especially with skateboards now, because here they attract a certain way to dress differently, act differently and grow your mind differently too. You can see it happening through all these things among Cambodian youth, and that’s a great thing.”

Having now lived and painted in Phnom Penh for more than seven years, Theo believes that, with continuously increasing support for local modern art and design, as well as improved accessibility and communication with artists worldwide, the face of Phnom Penh’s contemporary art scene is undergoing a metamorphosis more rapid and significant than ever before.

“I’ve seen a lot of changes. At the time I arrived, I didn’t see any other kinds of graffiti in the city. But now it’s developing and changing,” Theo says. “The new generation is already more creative. There are more schools for design and graphic design, so they are more into that kind of thing, and now with the internet they can look more around the world into what is happening. So with all the underground communities like hip hop and skateboarding they’re getting more and more information on what is happening overseas and they can create their own thing. It’s only going to grow.”

The Cambodian Urban Art Festival opens 6:30pm on Thursday April 23 at Institut Francais, #218 St. 184.

Posted on April 23, 2015April 23, 2015Categories FeaturesLeave a comment on More than a facade
Astronomy Class: Urban stargazing

Astronomy Class: Urban stargazing

Australian hip hop group Astronomy Class are back in the Kingdom to perform with singer Srey Channthy for the first time since the road trip that inspired the Khmer rock-infused 2014 album Mekong Delta Sunrise.

After partaking in a bumpy, cross-country taxi ride from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap with Khmer rock classics blaring non-stop for six hours straight, one of two consequences is likely to occur: either you’ll develop an involuntary eye-twitch upon the mere mention of the Golden Era, or form a deep appreciation and love of that catchy sound and the legends behind it. Luckily for us, Australian hip hop group Astronomy Class embraced their colourful 2012 road trip with keen ears and creative foresight to produce their 2014 Khmer rock-infused album, Mekong Delta Sunrise, a collaboration with Cambodian Space Project vocalist, Srey Channthy.

MC Ozi Batla explains, “While we were in Cambodia, we linked with the Klap Ya Handz crew who turned us on to a whole lot more amazing music, and we began writing songs inspired by those classic tunes. We felt we needed an authentic Khmer voice on there, so we reached out to Srey Channthy and the rest is history.”

The album features songs that touch upon a variety of topical, often controversial, issues. The Whitehouse of Kissinger and Nixon disparages US policies in the war that contributed to the rise of the Khmer Rouge, while the “dark side” of tourism is highlighted by title track Mekong Delta Sunrise, in which Ozi Batla rhymes: “Pontoon chorus line fighting over scumbags / Madame in the background with a knife in her bumbag.”

Concerning this particular song, Batla remains ostensibly unphased by the risk of receiving backlash for finger-pointing at local landmarks.

“Hopefully, that song will be taken in the spirit it was intended,” he says. “It is a tongue-in-cheek look at Phnom Penh nightlife, based on observations and some creative interpretations. This is the first time we have been back as a band, but Channthy tells us the response has been overwhelmingly positive.”

Further abroad, the band’s most well-loved track from the album is the satirical Four Barang In A Tuk-Tuk. Following its 2014 release, the song made Australian radio history by becoming the most frequently rotated song by a Khmer singer on the national youth radio station Triple J. The song, in which Channthy is “basically dissing the barang who get drunk and fall over in the streets” uses comical lyrics and a catchy tune to address an issue which the band members take quite seriously.

“The general attitude from tourists that ‘anything goes’ is the most embarrassing thing,” says Batla. “Having grown up in a tourist town, I’ve seen how travelers can conveniently forget they are going wild in someone’s home.”

Although Four Barang In A Tuk-Tuk may have received the most international acclaim, Batla’s personal favourite on the album is Woman Wants To Drink, written by Srey Channthy.

“I really love [the song],” says Batla. “It’s one of the first songs Channthy has ever written basically on her own, and she nailed it. It’s such a nice contrast between her ‘sweet but sour’ delivery and [my] pseudo-lecherous baritone. The song, according to Thy, is partly autobiographical. It tells the story of a young woman from the village going out in Phnom Penh on her own, and the judgements and assumptions she faces for doing so. Channthy is a staunch advocate of women’s rights, and her own journey has informed that a great deal.”

Playing for the first time in Cambodia since the trip that catalysed Mekong Delta Sunrise, Batla hopes that audiences will not only be entertained by the performance, but will additionally take away the key, positive messages which flow through the album.
“[It’s a record] that has a strong female Khmer voice, exercises freedom of speech and embraces international cooperation; three things that should define modern Cambodia.”

Astronomy Class will perform with Srey Channthy for one night only at 8:30pm on Saturday April 18 at The Mansion – FCC. Mekong Delta Sunrise will be available at the show on CD, vinyl and cassette. $5 entry

Posted on April 16, 2015April 9, 2015Categories MusicLeave a comment on Astronomy Class: Urban stargazing
Rekindling the fire

Rekindling the fire

Advisor cover 165At first glance, Lomorpich Rithy seems like your average uni kid. Casually dressed, well-spoken and congenial, she eagerly rattles off her latest projects with bubbly enthusiasm. Yet, as she further delves into her vision with a professionalism and poise one would expect of someone twice her age, it becomes clear that Ms. Rithy – who prefers to be called ‘YoKi’ – is not your regular student. Last year, at age 21, she founded Plerng Kob, a group of local university students drawn together by their love of art, and passion to reignite an interest in traditional art forms among younger generations. The major avenue through which they achieve this is the revival of the annual Bonn Phum, an ancient village festival traditionally held prior to Khmer New Year.

With equal parts humility and pride, YoKi explains how the idea for the collective first came about. “Plerng Kob is a group of art lovers: kids in town from different universities who just love art and to watch art performances. One day in August last year, we came together to talk about making a place to see our performances and share our interests with an audience,” she says. “So we are here to preserve art culture, but also take it into the next level. Plerng Kob means ‘campfire.’ It’s important because the original Cambodian light was made with a campfire – every house used one in front of their house. It’s also used for the traditional shadow puppet performance, which is displayed during festivals.”

As a natural progression of this concept, YoKi and the Plerng Kob team realised that one of the most effective ways to present traditional arts and culture was through a festival. Rather than create an entirely unique celebration, the group instead decided to revive what was once one of the most important village festivals in the Kingdom, Bonn Phum, adapting it with subtle additions to appeal to younger audiences in an urban setting.

“We presented our first Bonn Phum last year,” explains YoKi. “The idea came about because I was doing my thesis on documentary films and the shadow performance at the time. I started thinking about celebrating art through the context of the old way of performing. My sister, who is an art student at the Royal University of Fine Arts, said, ‘Let’s make a festival so I can show and sell my art.’ Another member of the group is a fashion student. She said, ‘Well, I want to show my fashion, so why don’t we present a fashion show there, too?’ Then we discovered the history of the village festival, so we took the old programme of the village festival and then added to it to create this new style of celebration.”

While recognising that the addition of a certain amount of modern elements were essential in engaging and inspiring a younger crowd, YoKi emphasises the importance of retaining the authenticity of the ancient festival customs as much as possible.

9a B&W

“The village festival concept has always been one of the original ways of life of the Cambodian people,” she says. “We always celebrated every festival at the pagoda, especially New Year’s Day. We gathered at the pagoda to play traditional games, to celebrate the fruit and vegetables we grew, to pay respect to the monks and to meet the people in town. It disappeared because of what happened following the war. So what we want to do is bring our people back to the old time, to what it looked like and how we celebrated. We have just adapted it to do so in a modern way. So we showcase new art, like fashion drawing and shows, alongside the old. It’s a platform where youth in the city can show their original artwork too.”

With a turnout of around 10,000 people over the three-day event last year, YoKi expects numbers to increase further this April, with a greater focus on attracting international attendees.

“Last year our target was mostly locals, but this year we want to target both local and international people. Our posters are bilingual this year, and we have introduced a tour package for foreigners as well. If you want to spend a day at Bonn Phum you will have a student guide and they will drive you around and explain how to enjoy it at its best. It’s free entry, but if you want to have a guide we will charge for transportation, food from some of the stalls, and the guide. But it’s very cheap – the students are very hard-working!”

With a range of traditional games and performances, a guided tour would seem a favourable option for city-dwellers – both foreigners and locals. Many of the traditional performances and activities will never have been seen before by many local urban youth, after having been forgotten for decades in the aftermath of the Khmer Rouge.

“One of the dances we present is the trod dance, a kind of performance that we normally perform during the Khmer New Year season,” YoKi says. “It’s like the equivalent of the Chinese New Year lion performance. You call them to your house to dance as a sign of good luck and blessing. It’s the identity of Cambodian New Year’s Day. So we want the Cambodian people to become more familiar with the trod dance, because many Cambodians, especially the younger ones, are so much more familiar with the lion dance than they are their own trod dance. Every day at 3pm we will show it so they can see.”

Activities are spread over a schedule which runs through both day and night, with nightly events showcasing the main traditional performances. The first night begins with bassac, a colourful pantomime, which YoKi likens to a hybrid of soap opera and comedy theatre, in which performers dress in very thick make-up representing regular characters such as the monkey or the giant. Traditional yike singing is scheduled for the second night, while the lakhon khol –  a masked dance performance – and a shadow performance wrap up the third night.

4

Although the festival is heavily performance-based, YoKi emphasises the importance of crowd participation at the festival, particularly during daily workshops and traditional games.

“For the daily schedule, we bring different workshops with small performances. We have ayai, which is stand up singing and a little bit of comedy, and also chapey. Then there is the hand drum performance which we all sing and dance to. We also allow a platform to play traditional Cambodian games, which are lead by village people and everyone can join in and play.”

Of course, no cultural celebration would be complete without paying homage to the local cuisine. Vendors from surrounding provinces will travel to the site to sell produce and cook for hungry festival-goers. “We sell food which is all Cambodian,” YoKi says. “Village people sell whatever products they like: food, milk, eggs – anything they want, they can sell there.”

Although Plerng Kob itself remains proudly not for profit, YoKi insists that one of the central aims of Bonn Phum is to ensure all artists and performers are paid for their services during the festival.

“The event is not for profit and the organisers, Plerng Kob, are just volunteers,” YoKi says. “But we collaborate with local sponsors, like the radio station FM 107.5, who help find us sponsors. That means all the artists in the event get paid. That is one of the main purposes of the festival. We want to create a place where the performers and artists can find their market. We don’t want them to perform for free – we pay them through sponsorship. We also do some fundraising before the festival starts, and because of the event we did last year we have more people who know about us and want to support us.”

With each year, YoKi and the Plerng Kob team plan to expand the Bonn Phum village festival, incorporating more performances and activities, and hopefully bringing it to more cities and provinces across the Kingdom.

11a

“In the next few years, we would like to see it happen across the country on the 3rd of April in three places: Phnom Penh, Siem Reap and Sihanoukville. Kampot too – it’s a very artistic province. That’s our future plan,” she says. “In the future, we’d also like to bring Bonn Phum to Cambodians overseas who are far, far away from their country. Cambodian Living Arts has a program called Seasons of Cambodia in New York. So we would like in the next 5-10 years to hopefully work together to bring Bonn Phum and the Cambodian way of life to Cambodians there.”

Comprised of a diversely talented team of young students, Plerng Kob uses the period between organising the annual Bonn Phum festival to continue working on smaller creative endeavours, gathering funding and providing support to young artists who wish to carry out individual projects of their own throughout the year.

“The members in our team have talents from many different fields,” YoKi says. “We have musicians, a painter, a fashion designer, an independent filmmaker, professional photographer, etc. So the idea is to ask [young people], ‘What do you want to do?’ And we will support them. Any young person wanting to showcase their work can ask us and we will help them and support them under the name of Plerng Kob. In November this year, for example, we will run a recycled fashion week, because that was an idea of one of our fashion designer team members. Bonn Phum is simply the first of many things that are to come from Plerng Kob.”

Plerng Kob runs from Fri-Sun April 3-5, from 7am-10pm daily at Prek Thloeng Pagoda. Entry is free.

Posted on April 2, 2015April 2, 2015Categories FeaturesLeave a comment on Rekindling the fire
Drakkar Band: Rockin’ the boat

Drakkar Band: Rockin’ the boat

Named after a Viking dragon ship, Drakkar has well and truly lived up to its namesake. Since its conception in 1967, the band has ridden waves of soaring successes and survived the crushing power of the Khmer Rouge regime. With members now in their 60s and 70s, Drakkar is ready to take their powerful rock on their first US tour.

…..

Few musicians can lay claim to forming a band that has persisted for almost five decades, creating the country’s highest selling album three times over, surviving the Khmer Rouge period and continuing on to play at sold out shows around the world. Vocalist and guitarist of the legendary Drakkar band, 63-year-old Touch Tana, recalls how it all transpired with sharp wit and humbling candour.

PrintLong hair, loud shirts and a lifelong promise

Despite now being recognised and respected as one of the legendary musicians of the ‘70s, Tana makes no attempt to pretend that the rock star life came naturally to him.

“When I started, I knew only one song. The way I played the guitar was the worst – [lead guitarist/vocalist] Chhatha even said so!” Touch laughs. “I felt ashamed and I said, ‘Maybe I should not be a musician.’ But [bassist and vocalist] Molivan said, ‘No, no stay! You can learn to play the guitar like me.’ He’s the best musician of all Drakkar, too. So that’s how I learned.”

When Drakkar was formed in 1967 with its three other members, Touch Chhatha, Mam Molivan and Tan Phanareth, Tana was the youngest of the four, possessing significantly less experience and confidence than his elder bandmates.

“I felt very shy because I was only 16-years-old. And we were a travesty, you know! We had different clothes and hair. I grew my hair, cut my jeans.  I felt funny doing it because I was so shy, and I came from an educated family.”

There was little time for Tana to become accustomed to his new role, however. No sooner had the band formed than they were asked to perform at a large party for the socially elite at the American Embassy. Pushed straight into the deep end, Tana managed to draw upon an inexplicable self-confidence in a moment of fear – a behaviour which not only salvaged the band’s first performance, but was later to save his own life.

“When I was backstage, no one knew who I was because I’d never played with them before. No one shook my hand. Everyone was like, ‘Who is this guy with the band?’” Tana recalls. “We were called onstage and I had to play electric guitar. I’d played acoustic, but I’d never played an electric guitar before that day. And we hadn’t rehearsed. No one even knew what song to start with. No one played anything and we all just stood there. Phanareth lost it – he got a little scared. But as the others became more scared, I became strong. I picked a song and said, ‘Okay, let’s play.’ The crowd was breathless – they just stood there with their mouths open.’”

From that point on, Tana became more serious about his role in the band. But having been raised in an educated, well-respected family, Tana’s ambition to play music professionally were at odds with the future his parents’ had in mind for their son. On the day his parents had promised to buy him a guitar as a result of doing well in an exam, Tana was forced to make a promise of his own that would forever change his life’s trajectory.

“When we went to get the guitar, my mother and father were really upset with me. It ended up being so expensive. My mother didn’t realise how expensive it was when she made the promise. When [the shopkeeper] told her it was 10,000 riels, my mother said to me, ‘No way! Are you stupid? Are you crazy? You want me to spend that amount of money on this?’ I said, ‘Mum, you promised. I need only one. I don’t need a motorcycle, I don’t need anything else.’ Finally, my parents agreed, but only on the condition that I promised never to become a professional musician – I was not allowed to make money from it. I kept my promise. To this day, I do not survive with making music.”

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

Going solo

True to his word, Tana continued to perform with the band, but always alongside his own studies and never again with the aspiration to turn it into a career. In 1970, Drakkar split up to pursuit individual careers, some of which were military or governmental roles afforded by the Vietnam War. Tana’s experience and passion for the arts lead him to land a role developing a programme for a government radio station. It was here that Tana inadvertently produced the makings for what were to become the country’s highest-selling albums in 1971.

“I just started to play the first song I wrote, called Why Are You Angry? Then one of the agents started recording, but I didn’t know. I stopped playing, then later I heard him play the song back over and over, and I thought, ‘Who’s playing my song? How could another person have thought of the exact same tune as me?’” Tana lets out a long, wheezing laugh. “When I realised he had recorded me, I was so surprised. The agency asked me to write 20 songs for a cassette to record the next week.  I ended up recording two cassettes that year for them.”

Never one to break a promise, Tana refused the offer to continue producing recordings for the company, and made a conscious effort to redistribute any profits earned from his musical successes.

“They wanted me to do many more, but I said no. I had my other work to do. Besides, if I started earning money from recording then it would have been a profession and I’ve promised not to do that. The moment I started earning money from it, I immediately spent it – on other musicians, their drinks, their food. I didn’t save any money from it. I just wanted to test out what I was capable of or not, and now I know I can do it.”

The two cassettes featured 40 songs in total, all of which were originals penned by Tana, but sung by guest musicians including Pen Ron and Mao Sareth. At one point, Tana was given the option of collaborating with the legendary singer Sin Sisamouth on his records. After much deliberation, Tana declined the offer, partly due to financial restrictions, but primarily because it conflicted with a particularly strong principle of his.

“Sin Sisamouth I love and respect so much.” Tana says. “He talked to me so sincerely and nicely even though I was just young and new in music. I wanted him to be in my cassette so much. But something for me to consider was this: why don’t we try other musicians out? Because Cambodians should have many different musicians, not just one. It doesn’t mean I don’t like Sin Sisamouth – he is the best. And that’s largely because he made many originals – he mostly did not copy. That’s why I respect him. And yet, people are always copying him now. Cambodia needs variety.”

IMG_9240

A second shot

After finishing his contract with the recording agency, Tana was asked to tour Vietnam, playing music to soldiers in US military camps. The original members of Drakkar were now heavily preoccupied with commitments to work and family, so Tana collaborated with three new musicians for the shows: lead guitarist Som Sareth; drummer Ouk Sam Ath; and bassist Ouer Sam Ol. The tour catalysed the second instantiation of the Drakkar band.

“The musicans were all extremely talented. We went to Vietnam for six months. Again, not to do it professionally – I just wanted to try and see what it was like. We played Rolling Stones covers and things for both Cambodian and US soldiers and they really liked it. They danced and sang along. We loved the music, each other, and the way we all played together in Vietnam. So, a little while after we returned, we formed the second Drakkar. We were very popular. We were the first Cambodian band to play on TV.”

The restructured Drakkar band enjoyed newfound popularity with its different sound and, between 1972-73, recorded the band’s first album, Drakkar ‘74. Originally intended as a test record, the album suffered initial sales levels so low that Tana eventually dismissed the idea that it would ever become a hit and moved to Pailin to start a new business.  In late 1974, Tana received a phone call from his brother announcing that the album had sold all 20,000 copies, making it the highest selling album for Cambodia to this point.

Producing another 20,000 copies, which sold out in a few months, the band intended to make another 20,000 immediately after. However, their creative endeavours, like all others at the time, were suddenly and brutally cut short as the Khmer Rouge regime took hold of the Kingdom.

_MG_8439

Surviving on talent

Although he was openly recognised by most soldiers and villagers as a musician, Tana was one of three members of Drakkar who managed to survive the Khmer Rouge period. In fact, it was perhaps his gift for music that afforded him the opportunity to be spared – at least on one occasion.

“I met one group of soldiers and they had one guitar but they didn’t know how to play it. They were like monkeys with it.” Tana recalls quietly. “Then one day they asked me to teach them because they knew I could play. So I tuned it and played a Khmer revolutionary song and they liked it. Then one soldier asked me to play an old song. I said ‘No, it’s prohibited.’ He pleaded with me,  ‘I just want to know what it sounded like. I promise no one will hear.’ So I started to play one of the Apsara songs, Annie. They liked it a lot and danced. They asked me to teach them so I did, just a little bit. They gave me boxes of cigarettes, let me eat with them and treated me quite well. But then, maybe two months later, all the soldiers swapped over and went to different sections and I never saw them again.”

With the changeover came an influx of unforgiving soldiers who controlled Tana’s commune with the typical cold-hearted, violent tyranny for which the regime was renowned. Tana was one of their chief targets.

“The new soldiers wanted to kill me. They set up stories to try to kill me all the time. The way they did it was by getting people to judge you and turn against you. I was set up to steal fish. Groups of villagers would take turns to collect fish from the lake. During one of my turns, one of the guys in my group cast the net and when the fish were hauled in he said, ‘Take one fish home for your family. Everyone takes one.’ ‘I said , ‘Aren’t you scared?’ But he assured me that it was okay, and I saw everyone take one. So I did. Then when I went into the room where we prepared to go home, the chief told me to stop on my way out. They checked me and found the fish, but not on the others. I was so shocked. I said, ‘But what happened to your fish?’ and they said, ‘Don’t try to blame us.’  I realised that everybody had released their fish, but they had not told me. They tricked me. I went to put the fish back but they said, ‘No keep it – eat one fish before you die.’”

Tana continues, leaning in with his voice lowered, “I knew they were going to come after me that night, but I didn’t tell my wife. We prepared the fish and ate it. At about 6:30pm, the sun set. I heard many people come and gather outside. The whole commune comes – a thousand people – because they all want to see the killing. The people jeering in the crowd were my friends. In fact, the man who had set me up was my old friend I had gone to school with. Once everyone had sat down for the meeting, they come knock on my hut. The young boy soldiers were singing, ‘Tonight we’re going to kill the man, cut open his belly and stuff it with grass.’ I tied one knife down each leg. I became brave. I don’t know why, but when I get very scared I become brave. Like I did that first time on stage – just like that.”

“I raised my hand and said to the crowd, ‘Do you allow me to say something before you kill me?’ They said ‘yes.’ I said, ‘Do you allow me to talk without interruption until I stop?’ They agreed. I said, ‘Thank you.’ So I talked. I talked non-stop for about two hours.  I talked about every one of them. Because I knew that most others had stolen rice. I had checked all their houses before. I went everywhere, I was well prepared.

The crowd was so angry. They wanted to stop me but they could not because they had already promised. In the end, the chief told the villagers to go back home. Eventually, the chief went too, and then it was just me and my wife left. So we went home.”

Of course, not everyone was as fortunate as Tana. By the end of the regime, an estimated 90% of the country’s traditional musicians and the majority of its contemporary musicians were believed to have died at the hands of Pol Pot’s army. With them, most of the country’s music and film recordings, paintings and additional historical records of Cambodian art were lost.

Drakkar-BandAG2Gone but not forgotten

In early 2015, filmmaker John Pirozzi released the documentary “Don’t Think I’ve Forgotten,” which explores the Cambodian rock ‘n’ roll scene of the ‘60s and ‘70s. The film features archival footage of contemporary performances as well as interviews with musicians who survived the Khmer Rouge period, including Tana and his other surviving bandmates.

This year, Drakkar will be touring America to help promote the US premiere of the film. “I really appreciate what John did,” Tana says with a smile. “He did a very good job. He really revealed the good of Cambodia and the strength of the people he interviewed. And with the film, our music is now being shown in a top place in the world. We’re very excited.”

Drakkar will play their last gig in Cambodia before heading to the US at 8pm, Friday March 27 Sharky Bar, #126 St. 130. Free entry

Posted on March 26, 2015Categories Features, MusicLeave a comment on Drakkar Band: Rockin’ the boat
Conscious comedy

Conscious comedy

Irishman Aidan Killian quit investment banking in Tokyo to “save this world one laugh at a time.” Since then, he has toured the world with comedy that aims to tickle the brain as well as the funny bone, while trying to offend the least amount of people possible. Unless they deserve it. In town for his upcoming show with fellow comedians, Englishman Graham Wooding and Scotsman Ray Bradshaw, Killian offers a taste of his cultivated humour.

When did you realise you were funny?
I’m not really funny, I just have an extraordinary ability to penetrate people with my words, enter their soul and tickle their insides until they succumb to an uncontrollable fit of giggles. At about age 12 I realised I could make my fellow school inmates laugh, which was kind of like having a superpower because it became a force field to boringness and brainwashing.

You spend a large part of your life making people laugh. What makes you laugh?
I like comedy that shines light on the world, but I also like the scene in V For Vendetta where the bad cops get massacred by V. Sometimes I laugh so much I end up feeling slightly guilty. Also the sound of a well-timed, loud fart gets me every time. If you can put the two together you might actually see me roll in pain with tears in my eyes.

Stand-up comedy can be a tough gig. What’s the worst reception you’ve ever had, and how do you save a total flop act?
I once was at a gig where a drunk guy came up on stage, pushed me, took the mic and screamed at me, “YOU ARE FUCKING BRUTAL!” The same night, someone broke a bottle and demanded to be served another beer and the barman actually served him. There was no saving that gig. I just wanted to go home to my mum.

What is the audience reception like in Phnom Penh as opposed to other cities in which you’ve performed? What jokes make PP audiences tick?
What a bunch of wonderful weirdos this place attracts! There is such a mix of freedom-lovers, arty types, adventurists, sex-pats, tie-wearing teachers, losers who don’t fit in at home, dreamers, drug-lovers, drunks and general misfits. So, basically, they should be the perfect crowd for my Braveheart style of comedy. I will do my material that I have been writing all month and if it doesn’t make them tick they can suck on my shamrock-flavoured balls, which would likely make them tick.

If you could crack a laugh from anyone in the world, who would it be?
Vladamir Putin. And can I give him a hug too?

What does St. Patrick’s day mean to you?
Fuck St. Patrick’s Day. It’s an insult to mankind! It’s a day when the stupid, embarrassing, drunken Irish fools drink ‘til they puke while wearing cheap, green, silly, plastic hats made by Chinese children to honour a genocidal agent from Rome who singlehandedly destroyed the ancient druidic knowledge. Bah humbug! Seriously though, the man was not Irish, he wiped out the druids, killed the ancient knowledge and replaced them with the Church, which ultimately enslaved our great nation and so we celebrate him by getting hammered. Ghandi himself would have punched him in the face.

An Irishman, an Englishman and a Scot walk into a bar…
The Englishman puts his hand up the Scot’s kilt, the Scot hits him, they roll around the beer-stained floor but it gets steamy and they end up making out, sharing a beer with a straw and pulling each other off in the corner. The Irish guy is not judgemental but equally unsurprised. Then a super-hot American chick comes over, licks Irish guy’s face and says, “Please show me your Leprechaun.” Irish guy ends up giving hot American chick extremely powerful multiple-orgasms until she becomes at one with the entire Universe, goes backwards in time and when she comes out of her pleasure-filled state-altering trance looks at me, eh.. I mean, Irish guy… in the eyes and says, “Yeh, you were right – it turns out St. Patrick was a prick!”

Aidan Killian will perform his comedy alongside Graham Wooding and Ray Bradshaw at 8pm Friday March 20 at Equinox Bar, #3A St. 278. Tickets are $5.

Posted on March 17, 2015March 12, 2015Categories UncategorizedLeave a comment on Conscious comedy
Green machine

Green machine

While most of us were sneaking furtively into clubs and making out on sticky dance floors blasting the Top 40, Jacques Greene instead spent his adolescence carefully tuning his ear to the intricacies of techno composition, feeling his way around synthesisers and drum machines. This early fascination has since resulted in collaborations with iconic sound artists including Radiohead and The xx, as well as the release of his co-owned label, Vase records.

Despite an impressive track record, Greene has somehow managed to dodge the mainstream media spotlight for the most part – a circumstance that he says is far from accidental. “I try to keep a tiny bit of distance from full blown transparency, maybe call me old-fashioned,” Greene says. ”I don’t want to go full anonymous because that betrays the purpose by drawing more attention to your identity. But yeah, I think I’ve kept a healthy distance.”

This relatively old school approach interlaces Greene’s work on a multitude of levels beyond media exposure. His regular implementation of analogue equipment within the recording process and live sets is one particular characteristic of Greene’s which sets him apart from an increasingly competitive crowd.

“Every single record at least has a few analogue elements,” explains Greene. “It started with just being something I idolised as a kid; the image of someone figuring out a synthesiser or a drum machine appealed so much more to me than sitting at a computer, clicking away. From there, it became a thing of comfort. I enjoy the physical nature of using those instruments. I think we just have an incredible luxury in this time to be able to choose what approach we want. In the late ‘80s, if you wanted to make a house record there were not that many ways to go about it. You needed the machines and the knowledge to program them.”

Such words could just as easily emanate from the lips of a wisened digital media veteran. At only 25 years old, however, Greene speaks with a calm confidence that belies his youth, thanks to a 10-year pedigree already neatly tucked beneath his belt. “Twenty-five almost feels old at this point, actually, simply because I started using drum machines, synthesisers and production software around the age of 15.” Greene says.

On March 13, Greene will be arriving in Cambodia for the first time to perform a characteristically dreamy house and techno set. According to Greene, Punters will be treated to some of his new material, which partly draws upon his recent eclectic, alternative influences.

“I’ve been in the studio writing a lot, and when I do I like to remove myself a bit from the immediate context of my peers. So I’ve been listening to artists like Gila Monsta, Shlohmo, and all those new Aphex Twin SoundCloud uploads. I’ve been working on a lot of new music, so hopefully I get to try out a few. I try to surprise myself as much as I can, so hopefully something that keeps everyone, myself included, excited.”

Jaqcues Greene will perform at 10pm on Friday March 13 at Pontoon Pulse, #80 St. 172. Tickets are $8 (incl. one drink). Presale available at Pontoon, Duplex and Samai Distillery.

Posted on March 10, 2015March 5, 2015Categories MusicLeave a comment on Green machine

Posts navigation

Page 1 Page 2 Next page
Proudly powered by WordPress
Follow

Get every new post on this blog delivered to your Inbox.

Join other followers: