Watch Poet Russeni Show A Different Side Of Homelessness In Short Film “Sorry Fi Disturb Yuh”
Teng Films) Produced by: Caroline Wilson (@undrlndn) & Angela Moneke (@tapecollective) Photography: Matt Marsh Interview & Words: Reshma Madhi …
Paava Kadhaigal: South Indian Lessons on The Power of Choosing Self Over Society
Tamil-language anthology web series Paava Kadhaigal explores how honour, reputation and community are tightly woven together, as its young protagonists return and yearn for acceptance in their childhood homes, in a battle between conforming to others versus following your own heart. The painful lesson being, they will regret not choosing themselves and braking away to take their own path, even if it means being estranged from their loved ones. How, even if you try to please society, they will still not approve. It's a lifelong struggle to challenge the prejudices and stubborn hold to tradition their communities have and be able to truly walk away for good. These characters are inspiring in how they bravely live their truth and oh so relatable in their common weakness - unconditional love, a constant pull back to family and a need to be truly accepted and loved. They pay the price for doing so. In ‘Thangam’, trans protagonist Sathar (Kalidas Jayaram) bears the brunt of choosing to remain fearlessly true to their self; outcast by fellow villagers and facing daily violence from a father and misogyny from local male creeps. When beloved childhood friend Saravanan (Shanthanu Bhagyaraj) and younger sister Sahira (Bhavani Sre), are violently threatened out of the village, their relationship punished for dint of association to Sathar, they are all forced to make sacrifices. Caste, honour and pride clash with family, love and acceptance in father-daughter tale Love Panna Uttranum, featuring rapper Stony Psyko, who waxes lyrical on “letting love be”. Feudal lord Veerasimman pretends to accept younger daughter Aadhi’s relationship with his personal driver, all the while scheming to have her killed, with the help of his corrupt associates. In the end, it’s older daughter Jothi who pays him a lesson in love not being conditional, when she forces her father and the village men to confront their prejudices. Vaanmagal sees a close-knit family torn apart by sexual violence and shame. Despite taking extra care to advise older daughter Vaidehi on how to protect herself as a young woman, it’s younger sister Ponnuthaayi who ends up paying the price. Wracked with fear and shame, the parents hide the truth of what’s happened, rather than ask for help or justice. Instead, they can only find possible solace and relief in an imagined shot of cruelly punishing their daughter instead. The fact it doesn’t really happens doesn’t take away that thought; the pressure to blame the survivor and be rid of the guilt through them, and the power of society to decide what allows you pride, prestige and honour. “Education made you forget traditions” is what pregnant Sumathi is scolded with in Oor Iravu, when she returns to the family home, hopeful of a possible reconciliation, after eloping to marry lower-caste Hari years earlier. Like the protagonists in the other episodes, her decision to choose her own life has consequences for all the family, with none of her younger siblings are able to attend college due to being outcasted in the community because of her actions. That pressure of restoring family pride and honour ultimately, tragically and literally kills any hope of family reunion. Not even the news of her gift to the family – an unborn grandchild – is enough. The pressure of society wins. Watch the trailer of Paava Kadhaigal below. Words: Reshma Madhi …
Lust Stories: Hindi Cinema’s Realism Lens And The Importance Of Brown Female Desire
The female perspective on pleasure takes centre-stage in this Emmy-nominated short film anthology created by the same quartet of directors behind ‘Bombay Talkies’ (2013). In this 2018 follow-up (a third, ‘Ghost Stories’ was released in 2020), the filmmakers prove they are part of a leading pack behind the ‘new age’ Hindi cinema that emerged in the 2010s to break perceptions of India’s cinematic style and views on taboo subjects. Here, specifically, the sex lives and wants of lower-class, older and unmarried women. Whilst Hollywood’s diversity card equates South Asians with OTT Bollywood stereotypes, back in the homeland, today’s auteurs are rightfully stealing influences from former colonisers – both art cinema and popular culture - reinventing screen representation of modern city-dwellers in the process. Anurag Kashyap’s mockumentary-style tale sees college professor Kalindi (Radhika Apte) proclaim to viewers, “that to love selflessly, you have to set the person you love free”. In reality, she can’t handle open dating dynamics with young student Tejas (Akash Thosar), driving her to obsessively stalk him on and offline. Even an older, financially independent woman can’t be empowered or take control of ‘patriarchal’ power structures for themselves. It’s a nice continuation to Kashyap’s hit YouTube release ‘That Day After Everyday’ (2013), depicting the daily eve teasing and public molestation working women face, which demonstrated audience demand for authentic, female-centred storytelling. The only female director to win a Filmfare award twice (received a second time for 2019 rap musical drama release ‘Gully Boy’), Zoya Akhtar opens her film with protagonist Sudha (Bhumi Pednekar) being serviced by lover Ajit (Neil Bhoopalam) in a bedroom before cutting to her cleaning the floor right to reveal she is in fact a domestic worker, and he her employer’s son. Sudha may have to service Ajit’s patronising family to survive but also claims a right to serve herself – owning her pleasure and power, even within the hidden confines of the socially divided city apartment blocks. Dibakar Banerjee shot the first Indian film in digital format; ‘Love’ Sex Aur Dhokha’ (2010), using hidden camera techniques to reveal interconnecting stories on honour killings, sexual exploitation and voyeurism. Here, he brings Bollywood heavyweights Manisha Koirala and Sanjay Kapoor back together as married duo Reena and Salman, caught in a love triangle with best friend Sudhir (Jaideep Ahlawat). Resentful of quitting career aspirations for marriage and motherhood, Reena wants to live more honestly but the men are reluctant, benefitting from secret sex and romance without full commitment or a dedicated wife and mother. Isn’t it easier to conform to the upper-class Joneses-walla, pretend they know nothing and carrying on as normal? Bollywood A-List director Karan Johar, takes a step away from the wholesome, epically successful popular dramas he became known for in earlier decades, to entertain us with feisty, sexy, empowered female teachers at an all girls’ school, horrifying mothers at how they are influencing their impressionable coming-of-age daughters. Rekha (Neha Dhupia) gives newly-married protégé Megha (Kiara Advani) a lesson on self-love advising that, “men are selfish and we have to pleasure ourselves”, when Megha confesses she is disappointed with oblivious husband Paras’s (Vicky Kaushal) inconsiderate ‘5 second’ performance in the bedroom. Megha takes matters into her own hands, with hilarious, orgasmic consequences before an audience of stern, sexless matriarchal in-laws, all aptly to the title song from Johar’s blockbuster hit, Khabhi Khushi Khabhi Gham. Words: Reshma Madhi …
Is ‘We Are Lady Parts’: Too Woke Or Have We 'Finally Awaken 20 Years After 9/11?
Packaged in that irreverent Channel 4 style, has this genuinely stereotype-breaking sitcom, depicting a WOC Muslim punk rock group, demonstrated what audiences and critics have long been waiting for? t’s both a breath of fresh air and a contradiction, given the normal accepted media portrayals of young Muslim women, like the tabloid’s depiction of Shamima Begum and the delayed coverage of Sabina Nessa’s tragic murder. The comedy times perfectly with the current urge to look consciously ‘woke’. Would a show like this have been supported by producers and critics, even five or ten years ago? THE INDUSTRY Insiders admit the UK TV and Film industry is behind the times in reflecting the diversity and inclusion it should. As it rushes to keep up with the US market (many actors of colour have for years called out how they have had no choice but to head across the pond for meaningful opportunities), is it just keeping up appearances to box-tick, whilst also jumping on the lucrative TV bandwagon? Recent reports state that streaming demand for UK shows will create 30,000 film and TV jobs, so there’s likely more space for shows like this. Its sense of inclusion seems to have been well-considered behind the camera too, with a diverse crew and production, which provides space for Writer-Creator Nida Manzoor’s voice to showcase the many possible multiplicities and nuances of Muslim female identity. The intersections within this as well as commentary on casual Islamophobia - like that scene when band manager Momtaz (played by Lucie Shorthouse), always seen shrouded in niqab, tries to enter a music venue, with the white door staff assuming she can only be there because she needs help and is in danger - was both frustrating in its truth but refreshingly comic in making its point. How do creators effectively take audiences with them, even when they are unfamiliar with those experiences? AVERAGE AUDIENCES – ARE THEY READY FOR THIS? This show highlights further the untapped, diverse story-telling potential exists in the UK. Whether the gatekeepers accepts or realises it, the nation is more than ready - they are willing to go into unfamiliar territory if the story and characters are compelling. So what is the industry so afraid of? This show breaks with stereotypes and tokenistic representation to provide complex representation. It provides a story about Muslim women that is not about oppression but joy. This is what makes it authentic and real. In fact, it isn’t a fiction - the Muslim punk rock scene does exist but is often quietly overlooked – it’s just sad that it seems to be easier to digest as fiction. When will the mainstream media celebrate such artists and inspire underrepresented generations by showing them punk rock stars that look just like them really do exist? Words: Reshma Madhi …
Brit South Asians On Screen Now Vs The 1990s - What's Really Changed?
The late 1980s-1990s. A golden time for the Brit South Asian arts scene, particularly music, with daytime raves, underground LGBTQIA+ parties and artists like Asian Dub Foundation, Nitin Sawhney and Talvin Singh being acclaimed in mainstream press. Suddenly, being brown was convincingly cool. The UK’s screen industry has always tapped much less enthusiastically into South Asian creative talent, compared to the world of literature. During the ‘Cool Brittania’ 1990s era though, brown people were getting a considerable look-in on the small screen at primetime, with BBC2 Saturday morning lifestyle show ‘Network East’ and hit sketch comedy Goodness Gracious Me, while in cinemas, there was critically acclaimed Bhaji on the Beach (1993) and BAFTA Award-winning East is East (1999). It signalled a hopeful shift towards a positive kind of multiculturalism, which continued into the early Noughties, albeit more as a disposable fashion trend. Big screen hit Bend it Like Beckham (2002) showcased the Southall London community, now as fully entrenched in the British landscape as fish and chips by the seaside, while the UK Bhangra scene had a brief, worldwide pop chart moment, through the 2002 re-release of Punjabi MC’s Mundian To Bach Ke’ - cue all non-South Asians ‘knowingly’ do the cringey lightbulb hand twist to on the dancefloor. This timing right before 9/11 can’t be ignored. Latent racism ruptured visibly again; that insta-cool just as suddenly replaced by suspicion of brown people laced with Islamophobia. Much of the screen representation in the two decades since has been haunted by that, as interest and investment dwindled and segregated brown content from mainstream platforms. Twenty years later, with South Asians forming the largest minority ethnic group in the UK; what’s filled the gap since the empowered representation ‘Goodness Gracious Me’ kickstarted? Reality TV show Love Island demonstrates there’s still a way to go before we overcome tokenism and thoughtless, self-defeating attempts at inclusion, while a major UK survey, commissioned by the Sir Lenny Henry Centre, found 64% of actors of colour had experienced racist stereotyping during auditioning. Even star actor Dev Patel spoke about feeling caught between not being quite ‘British’ or ‘Indian’ enough for roles. He is amongst a handful of homegrown talent, like Parminder Nagra, Archie Punjabi and Riz Ahmed, who have tasted the kind of mainstream acclaim out of reach a decade or two ago. Like their Black counterparts though, this has often been achieved across the Atlantic, which remains ahead of the diversity game, as demonstrated by upcoming Disney+ series Ms Marvel featuring Pakistani-American protagonist Kamala Khan. That show was created by Brit comedian Bisha K. Ali, who previously wrote for hit show Sex Education, which has been lauded for its on-point intersectional storytelling. Alongside acclaimed sitcom We Are Lady Parts, Nathaniel Curtis’s Ash Mukherjee character breaking apart the unsexy South Asian man trope in LGBTQ drama It’s a Sin and Simone Ashley cast as a desirable, dark-skinned brown female lead in period drama Bridgerton, it signals a glimmer of hope on the home front. More reflectively, Mixmag profiled the Brit Asian creative landscape, celebrating past and present figures from renowned DJ Ritu to disabled, Muslim drag queen Asifa Lahore, while the launch of the Dialled In Festival, on the 20th anniversary of 9/11, signals a demand of and welcome return to celebrating the South Asian underground. There’s a push to better promote the vastness of South Asian creativity, that individually, has been there the whole time, claiming online spaces. How can they come together more collectively; acknowledging the complex umbrella of South Asian identity (with its own challenges of inequalities, invisibility and prejudice) whilst facing whatever misconceptions of ‘being brown’ continually persist today? Words: Reshma Madhi …
Explore NZ Hip Hop Artists: The Best Of The Past, Present And Future
out to Gareth Shute for his hip hop timeline: A timeline of Aotearoa Hip Hop Words: Reshma Madhi … Words: Reshma Madhi Fancy getting familiar with who the the key figures (past and present) of New Zealand’s hip hop scene? Reform the Funk provides the lowdown on the trailblazers – those that brought the “Polynesian Māori Pasifika Kiwi Hip Hop response to US Hip Hop” and created songs about “Love life anger dance poetry joy stories struggles people” as ethnomusicologist Kirsten Zemke describes it. Kirsten, who studied NZ hip hop for her PhD (yes really) summed up the scene in Māori also known as Te Reo ("the language"). Kirsten stresses that the words mean so much more than the simplistic definitions here: Aroha (Love), Kaupapa (purpose), Mana (charisma), Kanikani (Dance), Karanga (summoning), Tauparapara (Chant), Korero (discourse), Taonga (Treasure), Rangatahi (youth), Ihi (power) Colonisation had a deep impact, with use of the language faded out and school children punished if they were heard speaking it. It wasn’t until 1987 that it was recognised as an official language. Since then, there have been attempts to turn around the decline, with a revival and growing popularity in using and learning of the language, particular through community groups. The list also includes those who got the music its crossover appeal and achieved commercial success. It is as Gareth Shute, author of Hip Hop Music in Aotearoa observes, “Secretly more worldwide, broader and healthier than ever” or as Sam Smith, music journalist describes, “local, original, powerful and entertaining”. We also introduce the current and rising stars of the future, who see it as “diverse, growing, exciting” (Jess B) and as “quality, Seki (samoan word for cool, sweet as), authentic, evolving, energetic, powerful, DIY, impactful, solid and SWIDT” (SPYCC) Che-Fu A leading figure, credited for breaking the scene over to the mainstream. Known for his laidback flow; he typifies the distinct Kiwi brand of Hip Hop and is one of the country’s best-selling acts of the genre. His debut album 2b S.Pacific went double-platinum. Dj Sir-Vere Veteran DJ and Hip Hop icon who has championed Kiwi Hip Hop music for nearly 30 years. He was recently made an Officer of the New Zealand Order of Merit in the Queen’s Birthday Honours. Check out some of his mixes on SoundCloud King Kapisi The Polynesian artist has collaborated frequently with Che-Fu and offers a similar laidback, Island vibe. He gives the Hip Hop music video a colourful, fun Samoan makeover for his 2000 track "Samoa mo Samoa!". ‘Screems From Tha Old Plantation’ is another favourite. King Kapisi Deceptikonz A key rap group, with each member also going on to be widely respected solo artists in their own right. Devolo and Mareko remain a strong presence on the local scene. Some of their top songs include ‘Evolution’ feat. Adeaze. P-Money A renowned DJ and producer, he co-founded the Dirty Records label and worked with the likes of Che-Fu, Scribe and Savage. One of his best known tracks is ‘Everything’ feat Vince Harder. He continues to tour, DJ and produce and collaborate with breaking talent. Savage Savage went on to be the Kiwi crossover success in the US, with his New Zealand No.1 hit ‘Swing’ featuring in Hollywood comedy hit Knocked Up (a version of the track with Soulja Boy, ‘Tell Em’, broke into the Top Fifty of the Billboard Hot 100). He also collaborated with Akon on the track ‘Moonshine’ and recently, has been working with Australian dance music producers and had a run of hits. 'Freaks' was certified gold in the US and he featured on the track 'Push', which played in a Superbowl half-time advert for the Fast and Furious 8 movie. Savage Nesian Mystik A soulful, RnB influenced Polynesian outfit that have had a number of commercially successful albums. Here’s one of their biggest tracks, from their debut album. Misfits of Science These guys turned the cliched …
Christelle Kocher: No Parisian Cliché
Words: Reshma Madhi Christelle Kocher may be French born-and-bred but this designer is less traditional Parisian chic and more haute couture mashed-up with street wear. With the 2019 Women’s World Cup hosted in Paris, and the soccer girl being the look of the moment, Kocher’s passion for merging the world of sports and fashion together couldn’t be better timed. This year was the first World Cup for which Nike designed uniforms specifically for sponsored women’s teams, rather than just derivations of the men’s kits (Adidas also followed suit shortly after). Kocher’s influential designs were at the heart of Nike’s show unveiling its sponsored national women’s team kits, which showcased her merged together designs from football jerseys. Christelle Kocher x Nike Ahead of this, Kocher got to unveil her own collaboration with Nike during her Paris Fashion Week collection, which featured bike shorts paired with sequinned satin blazer, wide pants teamed with feather tops and bias-cut gowns assembled from deconstructed football jerseys. It seemed like a natural partnership for the designer - being one of her personal favourite brands to wear - she grew up wearing tracksuits and playing sports in Strasbourg before discovering the allure of luxury fashion. She marries these two styles together in her own clothes - comfy Nike items teamed with Chanel jackets. Kocher admits she was scared of the reaction from both the fashion and sports worlds to her approach but it seems they have embraced her desire to unite these worlds to bring positive change. It’s also about girl power - making clothes designed for a woman’s body, with embroidery like lace and silk to feature sophisticated cuts. Christelle Kochen x Nike Christelle Koche x PSG You can see how Kocher’s own personal experiences have influenced her. The Central Saint Martin’s graduate worked for various luxury labels for over a decade, offering an opportunity to travel beyond the borders of French fashion. Firstly, at Giorgio Armani in Milan, then in 2003, with Martine Sitbon, where, within a few months, she was running the atelier and managing development of collections. When that brand closed, Kocher joined Chloé and then Dries Van Noten. Whilst working with Tomas Maier at Bottega Veneta, Chanel’s studio director, Virginie Viard, asked Kocher to revive the prestigious Maison Lemarié, which provides plumasserie – the craft of feather and flower making for creations in top Haute Couture collections. Both these roles offered an opportunity to appreciate couture heritage and highly skilled craftmanship. Kocher learnt how these traditions, developed through women in the domestic arena, were used by ‘70’s feminist artists as a tool of empowerment. Kocher remained artistic director at Lemarié while launching her own label in 2014. Just a year later, she was an LVMH prize finalist and staged her first runway show at Paris Fashion Week, which showcased that respect for artisanal expertise with her distinct relaxed couture look - think sports jackets with lace inserts and Swarovski crystals. Christelle Kocher x Nike These days she goes for an early morning run in the Buttes-Chaumont Park before multi-tasking in her day job; working on 12 collections a year - eight for Chanel and four for Koché, collaborating with talented crafters and creatives, and remaining inspired by street culture. The approach has paid off. Working for other leading names before establishing her own brand in order to understand the practical, while following her own instinct and vision, which remains in tune with the current generation and their online accessibility to a plethora of global influences. It’s no surprise she wants to bring that unity and diversity into her own collections; to make high fashion more accessible and relevant. Even her Paris shows are typically in fun, democratic venues where those across social divides frequent, such as the Halles shopping centre. A year before the World Cup partnership with Nike, Kocher made an intriguing collaboration with probably the most stylish football club around – Paris Saint Germain (PSG), which recently released a collection with Nike Air Jordan – a first foray for the brand, normally reserved for basketball, into the world of football. Christelle Kocher x PSG Christelle Kocher x PSG That same unusual cross-hybrid is typical of Kocher’s designs. Her Spring-Summer 2018 collection featured patchwork dresses of the PSG jerseys with Chantilly lace and embellished football jersey tops, that have since been seen on celebs like Beyoncé and Rita Ora. It’s definitely come full circle since previous generations, when the football girl was very much seen as an unfashionable tomboy and women’s football was just not taken as seriously. Until recently, even the biggest sportswear companies in the world have been apathetic towards women’s football fashion. Umbro, only hired its first-ever global ambassador, goalie Ashlyn Harris, two years ago. It might seem a trivial issue in the wider debate of gender issues and sports but actually the clothes athletes wear broadcast and instil a sense of identity, and with it, confidence and inspiration for its fans. So, actually, creating designs, like ponytail-friendly necklines, is important. Kocher herself feels most confident and comfortable in sportwear – she really believes in sport and fashion as the power of positive change. The Nike show was about being a team player, diversity, unity and empowerment. It brought together different types of athletes and nationalities to model her designs, such as U.S. soccer star Brandi Chastain, 10-year-old British skateboarder Sky Brown, German boxing champion Zeina Nassar and South African track-and-field gold medallist Caster Semenya, while one single gown was reworked to bring together several different countries. Christelle Kocher Alongside modern tailoring, handkerchief-hemmed shirt dresses and huge feathered hats, there were distinctly footie-themed pieces like an oversized black bomber jacket with hexagonal panels and a cocoon-like orange coat with similar detailing. Not many fashion brands have mixed sports with runway collections; yet Kocher is forward-thinking in her desire to push boundaries in contemporary fashion, and importantly, with a positive energy. She has followed her instinct, believed in her vision and been willing to learn the skills needed. Her collections reflect that sense of reinvention along the way; of discovering and expressing that personal identity. It seems her instinct is tapped into what’s happening in the world – a younger, social media active generation calling for global inclusivity … Christelle Kocher on Instagram at @koche Words: Reshma Madhi …
Join The Ball & Vogue It Pasifika And Queer with FAFSWAG
Since around 2012, interdisciplinary arts collective FAFSWAG has been creating a safe space for one of the most marginalised communities in Aotearoa New Zealand – LGBTIQ+ people from Oceania. Made up of gender and sexually diverse indigenous creatives, spanning Samoan, Tongan, Niuean, Cook Islands, Māori, Tokelau and mixed European heritage; the collective was born out of a group of friends dealing with being queer and Pacific – tackling not only how their communities can demonise them but also the absence of their identity in mainstream queer media and culture. Rather than be spoken for, FAFSWAG are actively creating a space to express themselves and question how they are represented by both the mainstream and communities they would be assumed to belong to The collective started off by setting up vogue balls in the very environments they lived in – Polynesian, conservatively Christian, low-income, South Auckland neighbourhoods. Just as marginalised black and Latino communities in the US took up the bold, defiant art forms of vogueing and hip hop, so too have Indigenous communities in New Zealand. For these young people, vogueing provided a way of life; an opportunity to make money and be encouraged to be loved, vibrant and make a statement through how they presented themselves visually. It was often the only space to freely and safely explore and express their identity in a community where not all trans, queer, coloured Pacific people were necessarily out, understood, or even safe from the threat of violence. This underground scene swiftly went mainstream after the collective put on a ball as part of Auckland Festival, with voguers of all flavours strutting their stuff in categories like F*** the Police and Free West Papua; taking it from an annual to a nearly monthly event at the long-established city centre LGBT venue Family Bar. In 2017, VICE Media documented FAFSWAG and the Auckland ‘vogueing’ phenomenon, and the following year, released an interactive video experience in collaboration with film-maker Taika Waititi (later the first person of Māori descent to win an Oscar). Not wanting this success to distract from the wider multi-disciplinary work of the collective, it has continued to grow an online audience and wider recognition. FAFSWAG has cut a distinctive, appealing movement by immersing their cutting-edge, socially relevant work in Kiwi popular culture, as they share their voices on topics like saying no to colonial constructs (with the phrase ‘Tulou Bitch!), trying to navigate the arts/creative industry, how womxn, femmes and non-binary people are re-centering power globally, documenting queer men of colour and their experiences of intimacy, and connecting to Indigenous knowledge of gender identities. This year, the group was presented with a New Zealand Arts Foundation 2020 Laureate Award for interdisciplinary arts, for their collaborative approach to activating public and digital spaces. During lockdown, FAFSWAG were outspoken on the pressure for creatives to suddenly go 'online' and the limitations of shifting an entire community-based practice online; demonstrating how the future of art is in social spaces and community gathering. Supported by Creative New Zealand, it was also, among other prominent Māori and Pasifika artists, invited to participate in the 22nd Biennale of Sydney (2020) led by Brook Andrew - the first Indigenous artist in Australia to be appointed artistic director of the biennale. This year’s programme is entitled NIRIN (meaning ‘EDGE’) - a word of Andrew’s mother’s Nation - the Wiradjuri people of central western New South Wales. For this, the collective created a project called Code Switch: Re-Learn, Re-Imagine, Re-Create A FAFSWAG MANIFESTO. The rising profile of such creatives reflects a growing call across the globe to push boundaries and challenge misconceptions about fluid, multiple identities, whether in race, gender, sexuality, geography, culture, time or space. For FAFSWAG, it’s about more than entertainment – it’s also about social change and justice to improve the quality of life for communities like theirs - often over-represented in suicide statistics yet lack adequate rainbow Pasifika support services in a country with some of the most progressive laws and policies in the world. As Queer Indigenous arts practitioners, they are creating new narratives that represent their communities, fostering a connection amongst Pasifika people navigating their unique identities within Aotearoa. At the same time they are able to appeal beyond their own collective – drawing on their Pacific sense of community, collectivism, sister and brotherhood to become a respected part of the arts scene and gain popularity both in their home country and beyond. Follow FAFSWAG on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter. Words: Reshma Madhi …
Bhaji on the Beach: The Original Brit Asian Girl Power Flick
Ah, the 90s! British Desis were trendy, with an underground music scene and our faces on primetime telly, including hit sketch show Goodness Gracious Me. It’s cast member Meera Syal was also the screenwriter behind the critically acclaimed Bhaji on the Beach. Directed by Gurinder Chadha, who went on to make a spate of South Asian diaspora-themed movies during the 1990s-2000s, the film is light years ahead of later, more male-centric films like East is East (1999) and Four Lions (2010). Featuring an ensemble sisterhood cast, it blends South Asian and English quirks; overcast Blackpool skies; a soundtrack of U2, bhajans and a desi style ‘Summer Holiday’, chili powder on fish and chips, plus conservative aunties entertained by a tacky seaside strip show. Despite their differences, a gaggle of intergenerational women (single, married, divorced and widowed) are rallied together by community worker Simi (Shaheen Khan), styled in desi jewellery with leather jacket, on a seaside daytrip. Newly single mother Ginder (Kim Vithana) has left an abusive marriage, with support from Saheli Sisters; a reference to real-life organisation Southall Black Sisters; a lifeline for black and brown communities escaping gender-based violence. Traditional Asha (Lalita Ahmed)’s surreal daydreams challenge her moral upstanding; imagining her ‘Western’ counterpart Rekha (Souad Faress), sauntering through a Hindu temple, in short skirt and heels, to light up a cigarette from a prayer tray candle, and a Bollywood musical fantasy with the English gent courting her on beachfront. She smartly turns down his WOC fetish charms, confirmed when she sees him try the same pervy move on some hijab-clad ladies There’s a black-brown love story (similarly explored in US-based Mira Nair’s Mississippi Masala (1991) starring Denzel Washington), with Hashida (Sarita Khajuria) falling pregnant by boyfriend Oliver (Mo Sesay). He confronts her hiding their relationship and dream of pursing art to be the ‘perfect daughter’ studying medicine. She argues back with that familiar self-imposed brown girl burden of “sorting this all out herself”. Oliver’s best friend warns him on the ‘grief’ this kind of interracial dating brings and the lack of solidarity in their multicultural university, as seen in tense banter with fellow East Asian hallmates. Meanwhile, the women can’t escape racist misogyny on a day away; harassed by a gang of white lads on the road, who pull that classically British ‘moonie’, spitting and cursing when the group dare to defend themselves. A touching scene sees Oliver advised on impending parenthood by his father (Rudolph Walker), who showcases Chadha’s penchant for gentle, stable father figures, while older women and younger men uphold patriarchal power. Ginder’s ex-mother-in-law demands her son - abusive husband Ranjit (Jimmi Harkishin) track her down, with the aid of his two brothers – one a misogynist, who violently attacks Ginder’s father and bullies the youngest brother for being ‘under the thumb of his wife’. A motley trio reflecting a cross-section of male brown trauma and how the roots of violence and misogyny inflicting South Asian culture still need to be confronted. When will we dare to touch as honestly on these complexities in our future story-telling on screen? “You’ll never please everyone, so you might as well please yourself”, Ginder advises Hashida on the windswept beach, before being shamed by deckchair-seated aunties, when her pregnancy is accidentally revealed. The hilariously-named twins Madhu and Ladhu defend her, making the now sadly ironic point that, “this is the twentieth century you know”. “You’ll never please everyone, so you might as well please yourself” The twins also tackle double standards of “dating white” on their seaside double date. When one criticises the other for changing her looks, they respond how ‘doing this for white prats is no different to brown prats doing it for white girls’. Has anything changed today? Hashida also stands up to multiple prejudices her generation face; defying both the older women who bad-mouth her and a racist café owner, with a blast of hot tea. A light-hearted ending provides hilarious karma for the conservative aunties, who give in to the holiday vibe when they find themselves unexpectedly centre stage at a surprise strip show and we witness auntie Pushpa being grinded on - and loving it! Words: Reshma Madhi …
From Instagram to Reality TV and Parliament – Could Cassie Rytz Be The Crossover Female Grime Artist We’ve Been Waiting For?
it here . Also follow her on Instagram @cassierytz Credits Interview and words: Reshma Madhi Photography … Interview and words: Reshma Madhi Photography: Joyal Antony Dominic Stylist: Milam Hinyu & Chaniel Abwola Art Director: Daniella D'aiuto 18 year-old Cassie Rytz is worth paying attention to. Just two years ago, she was a school kid freestyling on her Instagram account before her straight-to-point lyrical style and fiery delivery was getting picked up by Reprezent Radio and Rinse FM. Not long after she was taking part in BBC 1Xtra Sessions with DJ/Producer Sir Spyro. More recently, Cassie grabbed the spotlight when she took part in BBC Three scripted documentary series Gal Dem Sugar, which followed five young MCs as they attempted to break into the industry and shone a spotlight on the struggles female grime artists face. She is also involved in the Girls of Grime collective, started by East Londoner Shakira Walters, which aims to provide a platform for women in music and has also spoken before Parliament on supporting young people in local communities. With influences of bashment and dancehall in her sound, it’s clear that Cassie says it how it is and is bold in her ambitions, not just for herself but also to help influence positive changes for others. Her recently released single ‘Shell’ has had great reception, reflecting the growing acclaim she is already receiving for her raw talent and meaningful lyrics. More recently, she released the track ‘5 Hours of Doom’, which she got to showcase at her festival debut in Germany, where she got to perform alongside artists like Skepta and Yxng Bane at The Splash! Festival. Reform the Funk had a chance to catch up with her during a photoshoot, where she spoke as frankly in person as she does when freestyling, about where she’s at both personally and professionally. Cassie Rytz Galdem Sugar Casie Rytz - Galdem Sugar She’s recently got into a new relationship and feels this has helped anchor her during what is becoming an increasingly busy work schedule. Cassie feels she’s in a better place in her love life, having expressed how she has been mistreated by previous partners in her music. She’s confident it won’t be the case this time round. “It feels different now. To the point that it scares me. I knew he was a nice guy as there ain’t no one else treating me how he would. I’m so lucky we met. It’s still a bit scary and different though.” She admits the relationship might even be influencing her music. “The other day in the studio, all I could think of was words related to him.” She joked that she would probably be bringing out love songs. Could some of that fiery spitting mellow out in future tracks? “My music has changed now. When I first started writing I was angrier. I still am in general but I had a lot more to be mad about; I was stressed with family, boys, people that were onto me at school and outside. It was a traumatic experience.” Her back story is that of the school kid that didn’t feel they fitted in. Cassie wasn’t academic, was being bullied and also mistreated by a boy. She channelled that anger and hurt into grime and in turn, social media became the outlet to showcase it. As a teen, she mostly listened to mainstream music or grew up listening to what her family played at home – reggae, Jamaican songs, church music and only accessed grime through what her older brother would play (she didn’t have a computer growing up, so only got a chance to listen to underground sounds when her brother showed her tracks on his phone). “I tried to write songs at the time, then thought, no, I need to rap. The stuff that came out was harsh stuff. I wasn’t trying to hurt, or I was, but not literally. I was just saying those things and in order to big myself up because I knew I’m nice and the shit, not to be big headed but I’m trying to prove that.” So far, her self-assurance hasn’t been wrong. Grime helped Cassie find her voice and Instagram became a successful platform for this, with her freestyle challenges gaining hundreds of views. It was about her own experiences and pain but in turn it was also a story for others going through similar things – a show of support for fellow young women She reflects on how back at school, she was hanging around with those she thought were friends but weren’t really and how she felt she had to change her behaviour to fit in with them. She left school at 16 to go to college, where she began mixing with a new crowd. “It was a better vibe. I was so shy, so new to it but my confidence blossomed and it was the best experience ever.” It was also a contact at college that led to her opportunity to speak before Parliament, where she stood up on how things are in London, knife crime, the lack of opportunities for younger people, which might instigate the reason why they do these violent things. “They are angry and feel like there are no options. A lot turn to music even though they might not want to. They do it because what else is there? There are ways to get to the top but they don’t know how or where to go.” “I was talking about ways to help, why they are shutting down youth clubs. I was one of the youngest there and spoke on school and mental hospitals – how people are treated in there, how many black people are in those, how schools could be changed.” Cassie Rytz - Galdem Sugar “I knew I was going to do well but it’s still a challenge as I have a regular life but then I’m doing stuff way beyond what people my age are doing, it’s so crazy.” “In my situation, especially if you want to be an artist, if you don’t have support, attention from family, nowhere to turn to, social media can help but it just depends how you use it. “For a lot of people its mental home, jail or death. For a lot of black people that live in terrible circumstances, it’s just about seeing how we can change that and how the next generation can have a better life.” It’s a personal topic for her – both her brother and mother have been institutionalised. It was an emotional, scary and overwhelming experience to speak in front of MPs. “I had a chance to say what I had …
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Distinctly Kiwi: How New Zealand Hip-Hop Grew From Authentic Roots To A Diverse Sound For Future Generations
Words: Reshma Madhi New Zealand and Hip Hop. Sounds as mysterious and intriguing as that modestly sized country at the end of the world map. Despite the mass popularity of world travel and access to just about everything online these days, for those in other parts of the globe, it’s still a country that is relatively untapped and unknown. I still raised a few eyebrows when I said I was moving there for a few months late last year. “New Zealand?! I’ve heard its really nice there but they’re a bit behind or something aren’t they? Its very far away too. How long’s the flight?” I was bemused. I didn’t mind that it was a secret gem that can get overlooked. Yes, it is very isolated from the rest of the world (though obviously a lot less so these days) but that is kind of part of the beauty to the place. I was intrigued for my second visit to get to know the local music scene. The government supports homegrown music (grants given to up and coming artists) and there’s a genuine support for non-commercial sounds, which felt refreshing. The country has long been passionate about Hip Hop and with a country that small, there’s a definite ‘family and community feel’ support, with collaborations easily set up. Journalist Gareth Shute wrote the book Hip Hop Music in Aotearoa (he later heard how one of the publishing editors apparently commented that “hip-hop fans don’t read”), just as the scene was tipped for its breakthrough in the 2000’s. He reflects how in the nineties, there was a lot of concern over whether people were rapping with American accents and local acts trying to make their own fresh version by incorporating local flavour, like Che Fu featuring Cook Island drums on his hit, 'Waka' or Feelstyle rapping in Samoan. Shute thinks that these days people are comfortable just doing what comes natural, whether picking up on trends from the US or the opposite: “It's a very broad scene now that runs from old school Hip Hop right through to trap and SoundCloud rap.” SWIDT -Photography: Charles Buenconsejo The Roots of Poly / Māori Consciousness Hip Hop culture grew during the 1980’s, appealing particularly to Māori and Pacific Island groups with its sense of community through breakdancing and DJ-ing, as well as rap’s ability to allow disenfranchised and minority groups to make powerful statements. The New York-based Sugarhill Gang’s single ‘Rapper’s delight’ entered the New Zealand Top 50 in 1980. Despite peaking at No. 18, many New Zealanders disliked rap and some radio stations refused to play the song. Ethnomusicologist Kirsten Zemke moved to New Zealand from LA as a teenager back in 1981, so saw how the genre grew from its early days. Based at University of Auckland, she explored New Zealand Hip Hop for her PhD in the early 2000’s, just when academic institutions were beginning to take a more serious interest in researching local topics and popular culture. Zemke sees how initially the scene was a direct copycat of the US genre but soon developed its own unique flavour in each major city. “There’s an active component that tries to remain very loyal to OG (Original Gangster) Hip Hop, not just what comes across in pop music. New Zealand is a small place. They aren’t going to take Hip Hop and create a whole new thing (like Grime in UK). They want to execute Hip Hop with authenticity and respect, but also transplant it into the fertile ground of their own stories and places, without losing the OG spirit of Hip Hop.” Upper Hutt Posse’s ‘E Tu’, released in 1988, is widely considered New Zealand’s first Hip Hop record. Echoing early rap’s social consciousness, the track tells the story of the great 19th century Māori warrior chiefs but also preaches about speaking honestly rather than about bragging or wearing gold chains. Upper Hutt Posse’s ‘E Tu’ It typifies how Māori and Pacific groups led in using the scene to create a distinctly Kiwi sound, such as incorporating Te Reo (Māori language) into lyrics; an opportunity for diverse groups to voice social commentary as well as positively celebrate their communal practices and ancestral identity. Zemke talks about how New Zealand Hip Hop has had strong Reggae links in the past, similar to US Hip Hop and ties in with the cultural practices of certain Kiwi communities. “In New Zealand, Hip Hop and Reggae are best friends. They are together at festivals and gigs, in families and friendships, and muso collectives.” Music by some of its leading figures, such as Che-Fu, has had a heavy Reggae influence, so is very much embedded in the scene. The same goes for Poly/Māori style New Zealand Hip Hop. “It will always be there and has finally been accepted as a New Zealand music. Kiwi Hip Hop was previously considered too American, yet New Zealand Jazz, Rock, Indie and punk were not somehow also copies of overseas trends. Mostly due to racism in the music industry and public.” The mainstreaming of Hip Hop The genre grew to have more widely receptive audiences in the 1990’s. This was an era when the scene got one of its few moments of international recognition with the South Auckland scene producing OMC (Otara Millionaires Club - Otara being the working-class suburb where he grew up), who had the worldwide hit 'How Bizarre' and a platinum-selling album in the US. With foundations already laid by original pioneers of the scene like Upper Hutt Posse and Che-Fu, by the mid-2000s, New Zealand Hip Hop crossed over to the mainstream, thanks to a new wave of confident, outspoken artists releasing catchy, radio-friendly tracks. Most notably, the likes of Scribe and Nesian Mystik, who both had popularity in Australia for a while. Savage (who appeared on one of Scribe's breakthrough tracks) is another key success story, with hit songs in the US featuring on Hollywood soundtracks. Shute highlights how he is a case in point of an artist getting amazing success overseas without the audience at home even being really able to appreciate it. Che Fu Under the Radar? Shute goes on to discuss how the … done by the audiences. The public have much more driving power now because there is a much wider access to all sorts of music.” Words: Reshma Madhi …
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