The power of human creativity. Or rather, the ability of humans to make noise. No matter the situation, or the tools to hand. This was spotted by @mahreenkasana on twitter. Give a man a glass of brandy, he’ll sing for a day. Teach him how to make brandy glasses sing, and ahhh…music. Observe:
The human capacity to make beautiful noise…
Posted: 05/01/2012 in Arts and Culture, Life & Style, Other inanitiesTags: creativity, glass harp, glass music, glasses, human creativity, music
Severely brilliant and annonymous
Posted: 02/01/2012 in Arts and CultureTags: Edinburgh, guardian article, libraries, Paper sculptures, Sculpture
This came to my attention recently, through my twitter timeline – and I utterly fail to recollect who it was, else they’d get deserving mention. Utterly superb. Paper sculptures, intricately hewed out of books. And left annonymously at libraries, bookshops, etc, in Edinburgh. With personalised notes indicating appreciation for the work these institutions were doing. E.g. “A gift in support of libraries, books, words, ideas….. (& against their exit)”
No nom de guerre, no subterfuge. Just two XXs indicating hugs.
This harkens to a bygone era, where flair and discretion could make comfortable bedfellows, and cheap publicity was not the norm. Of course, as I say this, 2012 might just be the year the paper sculptor reveals herself and starts marketing her wares. And perhaps such talent does deserve some recognition and monetary compense. But I wouldn’t like it. Her work would lose its mysterious elegance, and aura of Valentine blooms delivered out of season, unexpectedly.
Read the rest here.
There’s also a Guardian article about it, from March 3rd 2011.
Now isn’t that just magnificent?
So Artsy, So Culturey, so New Yearsy
Posted: 30/12/2011 in Arts and Culture, Life & Style, Other inanitiesTags: Ecuador, New Years, Sculptures

Yes, t’is that time of year. When tired old 2011 trots out with head bowed and beard tripping up knobbly knees. On the other side, 2012 will probably behave in the manner of all newborns: kicking, screaming, temperamental, and as full of smiles as poop.
So Dubai, you think you’ve got New Year‘s nailed eh? The parties, the booze? Abu Dhabi, you’ve got Coldplay. Well, I see you both, and raise you: giant sculptures of Hell Boy and the Hulk in Eucador.
There, they construct large combustible sculptures of everyone’s favourites – from smurfs and the Cat Lair, to a large green Hulk. And then set them aflame and welcome in the turning of time.
Check them out here, as first tweeted by the awesome @Moonbootica. Always awesome to see how people everywhere celebrate the approach of a new set of 575,600 minutes in ways beautiful and quirky.
Why I hate mixology – those molecular bas#ar%s can go to hell
Posted: 23/10/2011 in Community, Life & Style, Other inanitiesIt’s 3 in the morning. I’m relaxing. The week has been tough, what with traipsing up and down to the Abu Dhabi Film Festival. Rewarding, but tough. I’m listening to music. And not classy music.
In point of fact, I’ve decided tonight is when I take a break from my standard jazz, blues and indie fare and sink into the world of autotuned fake Rnb. ‘Mr. Saxobeat’ has been played, as has ‘Put it down on me.’ A couple of detestable 50 cent songs have also been Youtubed. It’s just that kind of night. Not only have I typed incessantly the past week, I’ve also just finished Jason Webster‘s !Guerra, one of the better books I’ve read in 2011. Some mind numbing isn’t going amiss.
Except I can’t. I can’t take it. And I don’t know quite what’s wrong. Apart from the shit lyrics and the utter vacuousness, that is. Then it hits me. I miss the messiness. Of a plectrum singeing worn guitar strings on its way down. The inevitable plunk plunk that announces hand (and plectern) hitting string, announcing a certain honesty. I miss the beauty of the missed note in a live performance. The imperfection. The wabi sabi ethos. I miss the sax, the clarinet, the wind instruments so liable to be overblown to the point their pitch varies. I miss their complexity, their character.
Forget genre for a second. What modern music has done is taken notes, processed them using large iMacs with the latest I7 processors, and assembled them for optimum hearing. Singers’ voices have been purloined, cheese grated and reassembled into perfect robotic utopian tone. Never again will you hear the dying rasps of a diseased Johnny Cash trying to wring the last breath from his napalmed lungs to tell you about the American dream. Or any dream. No, it’s just perfect mollecules of !ucking perfect !ucking sound. And their perfection bleeds away all character till its muzak not music. Music is spontaneity, and joy. Muzak is just a formula. So go to hell Gaga Bieber Black whathaveyou.
And that’s my problem with mixologists too. You’re going to deconstruct my G&T till it melds at molecular level? You’re going to freeze that little ball of cucumber essence in liquid nitrogen so it dissolves perfectly? Well, go have intercourse with a rabid baboon, Mr. mixologist.
See, I like my music imperfect, and I definitely like my drinks asymmetrical. In want my G&T to taste differently depending on which side of the glass I’m drinking. My whisky and lemon bitters is on a gradient of tangy, smooth and pungent depending on how I drink, what the base was, and how I’m sipping. Don’t give me your formulas. We’ve got actuarial tables for that. But no one goes to a goddammned jazz club to practice actuarial tables. Just Sayin’.
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So you’ve heard of the Cirque del Soleil. How about the Cirque du Souq?
Posted: 05/10/2011 in Arts and Culture, Community, Life & StyleTags: Al Quoz, Cirque du Soleil, Cirque du Souk, The Fridge
[Picture from The Fridge website here]
Yup. Cirque del Soleil. That magical, gravity defying show of wonderous proportions glitz and glamour. I’ve been fortunate to catch it in action on more than one occasion. The images embossed on the rear of my retinas have proved indelible.
But now, say hello to Cirque du Souq. The marvelous folk at The Fridge – no, not the London nightclub but your friendly neighborhood art gallery in Al Quoz near the Grand City Mall – are coming up with their own interpretation. The same high flying, but more community. Cosier, indier. More accessible pricing too, I believe.
I’ve nicked a couple of pictures from their website – visit to read more about what’s going on.
Apparently, the shows are almost sold out. Good on you, The Fridge. They’ve taken their warehouse space and turned it into just about everything one can think of – a musical stage, a bar, a marketing platform, a broadway theatre, Dr. Who’s Tardis (okay, some exaggeration here…).
If you’re so inclined, some of the Fridge crew are around on Twitter. They’re good people, well worth a follow.
Mike Priest – mild mannered, inveterate gentleman, and artist/musician. Seems to have made niceness a career. @MikePriest
Melisa Le Rue – professional musician and pocket sized bundle of fun. @Melisa_le_rue
And see if you can beg, borrow, steal etc, a ticket for the show. If you can’t, try sneaking in any way. What are the chances of being thrown out? Mike Priest is too nice a man.
Displeasing….Shindagah market closed down
Posted: 03/10/2011 in Community, Life & Style, Other inanitiesTags: Business and Economy, Carrefour, Dubai, Dubai Municipality, United Arab Emirates
It was the oldest market in Dubai. Near the Shindagah tunnel area. It’s now been closed down to make space for Carrefour’s expansion.
Emirates Biz 24/7 carried the news – glad to see them inadvertently contribute to the cause of serious journalism.
These traders expected Dubai Municipality to provide them alternative space in the city. However, Dubai Municipality has not announced any plans to relocate them.
“About 1,400 people work here. Most of the employees are uncertain about their future and the municipality has not yet announced plans for a new market. The closed vegetable market had 30 stalls and 20 kiosks, the fish market had 28 stalls and the meat market had 27 stalls,” one trader said.
According to Municipality official sources, traders were given enough notice and their licences have not been renewed.
So well done, Dubai Municipality, for placing commercial interest over heritage. It’s markets such as these, though not very accessible for tourists, etc, that hold together the fabric of inner city life. Really, must everything go the way of the super-mall – those gigantic totems to consumption that are rapidly becoming untenable?
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When Portobello Road hits Dubai… flea markets, Flea4Charity, Voice4Charity.
Posted: 04/09/2011 in Arts and Culture, Community, Life & StyleTags: Bedknobs & Broomsticks, Dubai flea market, Flea Market, Flea4Charity, Portobello Road, Voice4Charity
Those absolutely classic lyrics from Bedknobs & Broomsticks.
Portobello road, Portobello road
Street where the riches of ages are stowed.
Anything and everything a chap can unload
Is sold off the barrow in Portobello road.
You’ll find what you want in the Portobello road.
Don’t take my word for it. Check out the song in its entirety here. Aah, nostalgia.
Early Saturday morning, I drove my groaning way to the Zabeel park, where the erstwhile forces for good, @Flea4Charity and @Voice4Charity were setting up flea market stalls. They’d found donations from all over the emirates, had vetted them, sorted them, and were prepping to sell them. Proceeds would go to charitable causes – in particular the Somalian famine.
Zabeel park is huge. One doesn’t really quite understand how large it is until one parks at the wrong gate and proceeds to walk it. Two gates in the same area seem a good half kilometre apart. On my way to the Stargate area, I came across these lovely people doing early morning calisthenics. Quite enthusiastically, I might add.
Stargate is an atrium like enclosure catering to the gaming and entertainment needs of little and not so little tykes and tykettes. But today was Flea Market day, which meant that much of the space available (and believe you me, there’s a lot of space available) was allocated to stands selling anything and everything.
Flea for Charity, under the watchful eye of the industrious Sajid Ismail, and a girl named Jihad (cue Ride of the Valkyries here), had bagged the first couple of tables from the entrance. Voice for Charity was a few metres down, run by an ex-PR type girl called Dina, aided by the volunteer Diya Khaleel.
When i first showed up, it all seemed a bit empty-echoey and sombre. People were registering and trickling in. But soon enough, the halls were alive with the sound of music – or at least the percussion of heavy boxes being lifted, rolled and dropped.
Working with Voice4Charity, regular charity hound Diya Khalil (@DiyaKhalil) had found himself in the enviable situation of being the only male volunteer in a stall full of women. The self-satisfaction lasted to the exact point he saw a large truck full of supplies pitch up…
Nevertheless, we all pitched in and stuff got done. Come 10 am, and the floodgates were thrown wide.
Throngs of people…thronging. There was hustling, there was bustling, there was elbowing and limbs in all directions. Leopard print bras rubbed shoulders with excellent books; half filled bottles of expensive perfumes nestled up to sandwich makers. Wall art was obscured behind piles of clothing. There were shades, lamps, pens – anything conceivably possible, in the oddest juxtaposition. And there were bargains to be had.
One of the advantages of being a volunteer was that I managed a round of the market before the gates were thrown open to the masses. Picked up a decent hall of paintings, books and the odd toy. Then, as the clock hit opening time, age and nationality was no bar to the avalanche that descended down the Stargate atrium to partake.
I was nonchalantly elbowed out of the way by a large Egyptian woman trumpeting her way through the stalls yelling “Go Tahrir” and “Down with Mubarak,” little realizing she was in the wrong throng of people. I sympathized despite bruised ribcage – after all, used china is just as important a cause as deposing a depot. Eh eh?
There were stalls towards the end in full cry, with vendors yelling out their wares. Not everything at the flea market was used, mind you. At least a couple of stands had purchased wares specifically for the purposes of selling them on.
The Flea Market at Star Gate deserves to be a Dubai institution. There are very few places where you’ll see such a rampaging crowd where abayas mix in with crotch-hugging shorts and kanduras with tank tops, all purchasing wares ranging from dish rags to used golf clubs.
Yeah, the Zabeel Park turns into Dubai’s very own Portobello Road some Saturdays. All together now:
Tokens and treasures, yesterday’s pleasures
Cheap imitations of heirlooms of old
Dented and tarnished, scarred and unvarnished
In old Portobello they’re bought and they’re sold
Portobello Road, Portobello Road
Street where the riches of ages are stowed
Artifacts to glorify our regal abode
Are hidden in the flotsam in Portobello road.
You’ll find what you want in the Portobello Road
The next Flea Market is on the 17th of September 2011. Gate 4, Zabeel Park Area A. I’ll see you there – once I’ve bagged the good stuff.
So you want to be a copywriter in Dubai -I
Posted: 29/08/2011 in Community, Life & Style, Other inanitiesTags: Business, Copywriter in Dubai, Copywriter in UAE, copywriting, freelancer, Marketing, Marketing and Advertising, Public relations
It’s been a year now (well, slightly more), that I’ve been copywriting for a living.
It’s been mostly fun and awesome. Occasionally it’s been frustrating as all heck. Through it all, I’ve reached some conclusions on the copywriting hustle in Dubai and Abu Dhabi:































