A fun

Sunday evening. The free festival season, probably my favourite season, is getting on its way. The summer has started breathing and revealing its riches. The girls are giggling in the semi-dark of the night and the boys are drinking beer and challenging each other to walk up and speak to a cute girl. The musicians are playing on the streets, on improvised wooden stages, and people take their time to stop and listen. They don't realise it yet, but this moment will make their evening. This is what they will be talking about the next morning while drinking coffee in their office. This is one of those moments that will put a smile on their lips went they think back to summer. They will remember how happy the musicians were, how relaxed they were and how happy and relaxed everybody around seemed.
(Makes me wonder why this feeling does not run throughout the year - for as the band from the night before (see previous post) said (repeatedly) - every day is a birthday).

Trying

to capture their style. I think I got quite close, but if any of your blogger readers was there, you can let me know how far or close from their style I was.

Am I becoming

a noise lover? Or is noise becoming softer?

Got a little

fascination with the double bass going on this days.

Some are

still standing (but not for long).

Sunday night

is concert night. An easy going one. Not a huge, start of the weekend concert night. One you can come to see a couple new bands (some better, some worse, it is a lottery out there), have a beer with your mates, celebrate a birthday as you go along, and still come home before dawn.

Enjoy the silence II

Enjoy the silence

and just look at the photo, as my fingers still do not wish to type anything I would care to share.
(Luckily it is a photo blog, so I just might get away with this). 

Nothing to do

with the photo, or the event, or the place. It is just that I have been trying really hard not to think about something, so I focused much too much (way beyond reason) on something else, and now my mind is well, like a bowl of mushy peas - rather useless, unless you are easily entertained. So I had a choice of either not posting my blog until I can think straight again, or to post a photo from the day and write some utter gibberish under it. Guess what I decided was the better option?

# Justice

It is strange how something that we all deep down consider to be unquestionable and indisputable, is placed under question and disputed. And rightly so, if you ask me. (You might have a bit of a problem understanding all of this from the photo and the little text I have given to you, but it is all to do with justice in the now and here, in an apparently fair and civilised part of the world).
But, if it is not fair and just, we can at least live (die is a bit drastic for this day and age) trying (or does your PlayStation not allow you to go out of the flat?).
(As usual, you can find more photos I took here.)

Please

don't take this the wrong way (it is meant with all the best intentions), I know it is hard when you have a new toy, but just because you have bought a new loop machine, this does not mean you have to use it all the time (and be careful not to mistime beats when using it).

A bit of interaction

with the exhibited work.

4syrinx

You know you have bad luck when you go to a concert in a church and you get the seats with the lousy sound. But still, it was my dad that really suffered most (on numerous counts). During the concert I realised that I have seen way too many churches for an atheist - but that is what happens when you are interested in art, architecture and the occasional concert.  

Another day

another concert... and order is restored.

Caught

amongst the screaming fans, who want to touch him. Over and over again.

It's 10 pm

and after a hot, tiring, but exciting an d fun day of photography you step into the gallery. It is empty, except for the owner and his wife. You throw them out, you let them escape into the slightly cooler main road of the main town of this forgotten country. You take out your camera. You walk around the single room (not quite a white cube, but close enough). You look at the mechanical bird, stretching its wings. Repetitively, in slow motion, hypnotically. You look at the white cube floating in midair. Most of the time it is still, but then it starts spinning, slowly at first, but then it suddenly spirals out of control. Just like a hit airplane in a world war two movie. Just like your life. You look at the house, bizarrely growing from the wall at a strange angle (like a fungus?). The floating chair has almost escaped reality, but the shadows are real. Real as the best of nightmares. You glance at the photos and watch the video for a while. You observe the old record player that can do anything from 16 to 78 revolutions per minute. The turntable is spinning at a leisurely 16 rpm. All of these objects trigger something in the back of your mind. They have always been there. They reach as far back as your memory and there is no way you can define the moment you first stumbled across them.
And this is what dreams are made of.

Another day

of workshops, performances, good company, good food and lots of photo opportunities. What more could  a man wish for? (OK, except the obvious?)

Ms Flames

and her firefingers. I meet her just a few hours before the show, relaxing in the shade, hidding from the scorching sun (scorchio, as they would say in the fast show). My friend who introduced us had only the most wonderful things to say about her. So after hearing what a wonderful person she is and meeting her, I of course thought I might make the effort and get to see her show on the night and if possible take a good photo that she could have as a souvenir from her Ljubljana performance. Well, I managed to make the show and take a few photos. Some are good I think, so it seems like she can leave the town with a little souvenir from me. 

Let me give you

my heart.

The first day

of Ana Desetnica (15 years of it - already?). And the first day of the Festival of the Theatre of the Oppressed (1 year - where were they all this time? - I know the answer to this one is bloody obvious really). If there is no other way you can support them, come and support them with your presence, they will be thrilled to bits, you will hopefully enjoy yourself and the worst side effect (if you go to the theatre of the oppressed) is that you might start thinking about the world you live in). So all in all, not bad really.

And I am back...

I felt I needed a bit of a break, so I spent a few days reading and not really moving or doing anything (well, to tell you the truth I also have a bit of a bad back - so if you see me wondering around the streets with my heavy rucksack on my back, feel free to offer me a back massage).
Anyway, my first outing after yonks (yes, officially every day that I do not take photographs is described by the exact time measuerement of 1 yonk) was to a small outdoor jazz concert (and yeah, I could also come close to the drummer - still no telephoto lens, so I have to use the walkies close-up technique - so here is a photo of the drummer, far at the back).

A crowd gathered

in front of our parliament today. (and it was about time, methinks)

Some mornings

I wake up a bit more shattered than others. As I open my eyes I know that I have two options. I can stay at home, in the safe (for now), yet depressing darkness of the flat, or I can stumble into the sunlight, and walk the deserted streets as the sun slowly burns off my clothes, crawl on all fours through the neglected town, watching the abandoned cars, dilapidated flats, empty bodies as they trip over me and still fail to notice me, lie in the middle of the apocalyptic main street facing dehydration, all in the hope that I will take a good photo before I am turned into a sunbleached skeleton. 

Pippi Longstocking

I know I have the book somewhere... I have to find it and discover how to make fun of myself now that I am an adult.

Ballet

to the music of Radiohead. I like this photo because each of the dancers is in a different stage of their jump (I am sure there is a clever French name for this kind of ballet jump, but I have  no idea as to what it is.

Yes!

we managed to pull it off, even though we had no electricity an hour before the performance and no internet with half an hour to go. The only real problem with me being on stage and performing (and this time not performing as a photographer) is that I had no time (I tend to concentrate to much on what I am doing, specially when it is all new to me) to take any photographs. The few I took, I took just before the performance started - and here is the last one from the warm-up series.

FlugTag

they call it. But really it should be called FreeFallDay. So, instead of posting a photo of a flying machine plummeting into the wild and cold waters of Ljubljanica, I will show you one of my favourite flying machine designs. 

One from the series

of tapiseries from the 6 republics and 2 autonomous provinces of the former Yugoslavia. They were taken down at the seperation in 1991 and stored where nobody could see them. But now they took them out and blew the dust off.

Presentation

of what we are going to do on Sunday. I am still trying to figure it all out.

An

awful lot of blood for an audition for life.

What

are they so excited about? Are they happy to see Alice or is it all about the free Jameson?

Missing

the festival already, so I managed to quickly arrange a visit for me and my camera to a completely unrelated performance. And I think there are quite a few good photographs from this series (for a much too large and unedited series click here.) 

Last day

of the festival, after which we had an excellent picnic and then I had to rush to a concert. Well, I kinda promised, didn't I? And I saw a place and people I have not seen in a very very long time.

I can't believe

it has been more than 14 days from my last concert. But as you (the blog readers know) know this does not mean I have been at home watching telly (I think I would stay in for so long only if I got shot in my foot - which is highly unlikely).

Snow blizzard

indoors, begining of summer in Ljubljana.

The way

they move, explore, play games, enjoy the moments and make the time to observe life makes you think: If I was stranded on a deserted island it would just have to be with them (and my camera).

Maybe

it is time for the two of us to take a moment.

It's been a hard day's night

Days are full, nights are short, and I am floating on air (oh yes, happy days).

This is

my mirror reflection on a good day.

A bit sort of lost in space

but at least they have each other's company. But as much as I have seen, as long as they stick together they will continue to have fun.