With Mr Slack shouldering the big jobs today, I am free to be my shiny, happy Friday self. So allow me to call it right here: Auckland's a happening thing. LATE at the Museum last night was a memorable evening.
It was memorable even before, with impeccable timing, a proportion of the Wellington International Ukulele Orchestra stepped into the lights in their Swandris and slid strumming and sweetly singing into Lawrence Arabia's performance of 'Fine Old Friends'. When that happened, I thought: great cultural moment.
We ran a Great Blend upstairs at the museum's events centre not long after it opened, and the space didn't really work for us. LATE is a completely different matter -- it's predicated on encouraging people to move between the museum's ground floor spaces in line with the evening's agenda, but as they choose. It's a really relevant, engaged, use of the building, and its exhibits.
I think people enjoyed the earlier panel discussion of "virtual identity", which benefited from Wayne Hope's willingness to act as the internet curmudgeon. I mentioned you all. And I generally had a good time befre and after, meeting people (including someone called Jazz Joint*), talking and listening to music.
It's not unusual for a public heritage institution to have young people with good ideas on its staff. It is a bit more uncommon for those people to actually be able to put some of those ideas into practice, without being smothered by a layer of cardigan wearers**. But that appears to be what's happening at the Auckland Museum.
The New Zealand music video collection curated by James Coleman, is up for viewing at NZ On Screen. It's a nice way to get a view across the very large body of work that is New Zealand music video.
I have a double pass to the Chills' Pink Frost 25th Anniversary Show next Friday at the Montecristo Room (it's a busy place -- The Checks play the Bacco Room downstairs on the same evening) to give away. This show is all but sold out already, so I'm not letting the pass go easily.
I'm thinking it's time for another verse competition. I'll give the pass to the person who can write the best verse (or short prose) incorporating Chills song titles and/or lyrics, in the discussion for this post. Or similar. Whatever moves you.
Have to go out for the afternoon, so the prize has gone to James Littlewood. But feel free to express yo' self.
* This isn't a metaphor. I actually met a pleasant young woman called Jazz Joint.
** Not that there's anything wrong with cardigans. You know what I mean.