Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) to Can Tho

 Photos taken from a moving vehicle .......

Vietnam: Saigon and the Mekong Delta (2026)

 

 

I returned to Vietnam with a sense of expectation. I had read and heard stories of how fast it was developing, and how Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) in particular had become a vibrant and buzzing capital. It is in part true, but Saigon is still littered with pockets of poverty. You don’t have to walk far to see people whose life is a hand-to-mouth affair, and where the stench of rotting waste makes you hold your breath, and piles of garbage collect on street corners and back lanes.

The first sense you get of a country still languishing in the past is at the airport. The arrival process is a shambles and the on arrival visa circus has been borrowed from the Indian chaos experts to the west! If you have been lucky enough to discover one of the several companies online who will fast track your visa process (for around US$40) it only takes about 45 minutes, and you can sit back and joyfully watch queues of people jockeying for position at the visa counter. Mayhem.

Saigon’s Tan Son Nhat airport is about 8 kms from the centre of Saigon and the taxi journey took about 45 minutes. As with so many Asian cities, traffic in Saigon is a major problem, and the number of motorbikes has clearly grown as the city has grown. In any Vietnamese town or city of any size crossing the road involves negotiating a flood of motorbikes who will only slow down if you walk out on to the road and make it clear that you want to cross. They DO slow down, or swerve around you, but it is unnerving the first few times.

The relative cool of the evenings are the best time to appreciate the buzz of the new Saigon. Groups of happy young people move through the streets and open public areas in groups or couples, and many buildings are lit up with neon. The taller skyscrapers in fact become screens for giant light shows and constantly shape-shift from one scene to another as they do on the Dubai marina or the Ginza in Tokyo. The nights felt warm with promise but hide many secrets that the daylight cannot conceal.

I thought I would stay longer in Saigon but I had the feeling that I had seen the best of it, or at least the crowds and intensity weren’t worth the effort, so I scampered off to Can Tho in the delta region – a part of Vietnam I hadn’t been to on previous visits.

I took a private taxi to Can Tho – a delightful luxury. My 30 something driver and I chatted with the help of Google Translate with a modicum of success. I was able to tell him about my ESL teaching had resulted in close contact with many Vietnamese people. As ‘the American War’ and its aftermath had occurred long before he was born I felt like I had given him something of a history lesson. He didn’t seem to mind, and in fact seemed to quite enjoy it. A bonus on this ride was that this young man only played traditional Vietnamese folk music on his car stereo so the 2.5 hour journey played out with a wonderful authentic soundtrack.

Can Tho turned out to be much larger than expected. It has a population of roughly one million – just a bit smaller than Adelaide. It’s situated on the junction of the Hau and Can Tho rivers so sees a lot of river traffic. Big barges similar to those which make their way up and down the major European rivers passed by all day long.

Can Tho is also the jumping off point for those who want to visit Vietnam’s most famous floating market but …… it involves a 5.15 am departure and I decided I’d rather sleep in and enjoy the amazing buffet breakfast at the Sheraton. I figured I’d be able to organise some kind of boat journey from the many boatmen around the town wharf but that didn’t work out. In this case the translation software was a complete flop. And no one was interested in giving me a boat ride unless I was part of a tour, or charging me as if I were 2 people. (In Luang Prabang in Laos one could simply approach a boatman by the river and arrange a boat ride at a reasonable price but it wasn’t the case here.) It was disappointing but I thought I might do better in a smaller town. That turned out to be the case but I did enjoy a couple of long walks along the river fronts in Can Tho. Just away from the riverfront on one of these walks I think I saw a dog on a spit!

My next port of call was Ben Tre, a much smaller delta town. As soon as I got there I knew the decision to come here was a good one. A much smaller town. It felt rural. All strung out along the Ben Tre River. I stayed in a huge hotel room with a wonderful 10th floor view for about $50/night. The hotel itself seemed an anomaly for such a small town but it apparently gets a lot of visitors in peak season – mostly locals from Saigon looking for a delta break.

I was able to negotiate a boat trip for the next day at a reasonable price – something I was unable to achieve in Can Tho. So at a very civilized hour my guide met me in the lobby and we made our way to the riverfront. It was low tide time so it meant treading carefully through several metres of mud before heading off for several hours of very cruisy river travel.

We began in the Ben Tre river which was probably a couple of hundred metres wide. About 40  minutes later we arrived at a small brick factory which was made more interesting by the fact that I wasn’t expected to buy anything.  We turned into a smaller river at a large water junction and stopped at a place where they made coconut candy. I would have been quite happy to buy some of the product after I watched how it was made (quite a tedious and labour intensive process actually) but I was then whisked off to other parts of quite a large shop that sold a range of every imaginable product made from coconut – bowls, cutlery, animal carvings etc. Of course I bought nothing of these (I’d just to have to carry them home!) and it felt a little awkward as it always does.

The shop also had a number of those exquisite treats you find in many Asian markets: bottles containing liquid and various unlikely marinated creatures; crickets, frogs, snakes. I was asked if I’d like to try one of these potions – some alcohol infused with cobra (very good for older people I was told) and I politely refused. A voice behind me said I should taste it and said it tasted just like whisky. The guy and his female partner were obviously Vietnamese Australians and I trusted them I guess so yes I took a sip or two. And yes it did taste just like whisky.

The next port of call was a little more embarrassing as I had to watch a couple of local weavers again with the hope that I might buy some of their wares. It would have been easier had I been part of a group but they were doing their weaving routine just for me. I tried to be appreciative and grateful. I learned later that during the day they will have large groups of people come through so I at least knew then they would quite likely sell quite a bit across the day.

I had one more embarrassment to endure before we returned to Ben Tre but first we entered an even smaller channel and disembarked in a village and changed modes of transport. A short 20 minute ride in the Vietnamese version of a tuk-tuk took us deep into the jungle to places you’d never find on your own. I had a few flashbacks to my time in Sri Lanka where Louise and I were fortunate enough to know people who lived well off the beaten tracks and welcomed us into their humble homes. I had forgotten what a privilege that whole time in Weligama had been; experiencing life at a very basic level just as local people did. I laughed when we got out of the tuk-tuk because even though it felt like we were now deep into delta jungle territory there was a sign saying ‘Shop’! Across from the ‘shop’ was a small hut with the name of the tour company my boatman and guide from Ben Tre worked for.  Behind the hut was a wobbly rickety ramp leading down into a yet narrower channel with some canoe like boats moored on the water.

From here we (or at least our boatwoman did) paddled slowly down narrow channels overhung with arched palm trees. It felt like a cathedral of palms. So quiet, calm, and relatively cool in total shade. An even stronger feeling of being in a very strange and wondrous place for someone who lives in a city far away. So close to nature and the elements, and beholden to a life where you must hold them in great respect. Definitely the highlight of the day and an intimate experience of what it means to live in a delta where it’s only metres to the next waterway; as if the whole thing floats on a waterbed.

Coming out of this dream-like trance I was to face one further significant embarrassment. My guide had referred to having a stop at a restaurant before heading back to Ben Tre. I imagined a cool drink, coffee and a snack. Perfect for 11.00 am. But no, I was seated at a fully set table that was clearly ready for a full-on meal. And the first of several courses began to arrive. I protested and said I wasn’t hungry but still this large beautifully presented cooked river fish was put in front of me. Nothing I said could stop the food coming. I kept saying this would be wasted but tried some of the fish to be polite and pretended to be at least a little hungry. The local river fish delicacy was in fact quite underwhelming: looked great but tasted quite bland.

To save myself from more embarrassment and perhaps stop more food from coming I got up from the table and went and waited down by the river where our boat was moored. Someone chased after me and wanted money for the coffee I’d had – I thought it would be included in the price of the tour.....

In the boat on the way back the guide me told me he has asked the hotel where I was staying if lunch should be included and they’d told him yes. (I had specifically told them the day before that I did not want lunch. It was an optional extra.) So there were some crossed wires somewhere. I realised while talking to him that he would be the one who’d cop the expense if I refused to pay for the lunch. I decided to pay for it because it did seem like an honest misunderstanding. He was happy about that – he clearly appreciated it.

However, back at the hotel a quite spirited discussion broke out between the reception staff and the guide about who was to blame for the mix up. I kept out of it. I was still glowing from the wonderful four hours we’d spent on the river that morning and didn’t want to pursue it anymore. In a final note of pure class the guy on duty at reception later said he had heard me say the day before that I did not want lunch on the tour and refunded that amount off my hotel bill. That is looking after the customer!

While sitting on the ninth floor of this gorgeous hotel room later that day gazing out across the delta I started reading a book I’d brought from home about the impact of foreign wars on Vietnamese life, and it wasn’t long before I was in tears. Vietnam has a ridiculously long history of wars against foreign invaders. The Chinese, Mongols, the French, and Americans have all had a go at ruling Vietnam but were all eventually defeated and had departed. The Americans and their allies were the most recent on this list of the vanquished. And that of course included us – Australians. We contributed to the unnecessary hell of the Vietnamese people for 13 years (1962-75) – mass bombings, napalm and constant warfare. I just felt sad and guilty sitting there knowing that my country had been part of that madness. But the Vietnamese people bear no grudges it would seem, and I have never felt anything but very welcome in their country.

On my final morning in Ben Tre I went for a long walk to the edge of town where I found large roundabouts with almost no traffic (yes it was possible to find somewhere in Vietnam with almost no traffic!) – and back along the river through quiet neighbourhoods that felt quite mellow.

My final leg of this brief journey was back to Saigon airport. The first stages of this drive went quite smoothly but the final hour involved inching our way through impossibly crowded Saigon streets until we were suddenly at the airport.

With a sense of relief and some sadness I waited in the lounge glad to be out of the heat and the chaos, but a little weighed down by the thought that maybe this was my last time in SE Asia. It gets harder each time; I feel the tropical heat more keenly each time and it’s slowing me down. I don’t like to think that it could be the last time, but I have to accept that may be the case. I love it – always have. The smells, the chaos, the beauty, the smiles, and the wonderful feeling that wherever you go in SE Asia you are welcome. Apart from my shock introduction to it as a 19 year old, I have always felt very at home there.

However, in terms of my initial expectations of economic progress and improved standards of living this trip was a bit of a let down. Despite currently being rated one of the fastest growing economies on the planet Vietnam still has a long way to go before all its people live free of squalor.

 

 

The Housewarming - Theatre Review

 

The Housewarming
Goodwood Theatre and Studios
Tuesday, April 28

Four years is a long time not to see a friend; long enough for that friend to change quite a bit. So when Steph (Emelia Williams) tells her old friend Phoebe (Virginia Blackwell) that she’s changed, she’s probably right. And sometimes it takes others to help us recognize that change in ourselves. However, it’s the accusatory tone of Steph’s statement that throws Phoebe off guard, and sets the tone for an awkward social get together with these two old friends and their male companions. Phoebe has moved in with Nick (Daniel Fryar-Calabro) - her new man, and Steph is now with Michael (Chris Gun), an old flame of Phoebe’s.

It is immediately obvious that this housewarming party is going to be a fraught affair.  These four quite different characters don’t exactly warm to each other, and they are all quite willing to express opinions that challenge the others. Add rocky relationships and truth serum (alcohol) to the mix and things get really interesting.

We have all found ourselves in social situations we don’t enjoy. Faced with opinions and values quite different from your own world view you need to find a way to behave with decorum.  Most of us have been in relationships where we’re not quite sure if s/he is the one but we present publicly as if it’s rock solid, as if s/he is the one. This is where our housewarming guests find themselves.

Virginia Blackwell does a great job as Phoebe. Poor Phoebe is desperate for the party to be a success – she needs validation on so many levels, including her Instagram followers. Fryar-Calabro’s Nick is quite scary. He’s a tightly wound ball of insecure nervous energy that you feel could go off at any moment. And does. Hapless Michael is doing his Ph.D but struggles with alcohol and a lack of self-esteem, and dowdy Steph is sitting on a secret she has trouble sharing.

It’s an entertaining mix. Traverse seating means the audience is close to the action; right there at the party. It was tempting to get involved! The four characters capably play out a realistic scenario that reminds us of awkward situations we’ve all experienced in our own lives. Dialogue is rich and varied and punctuated with a good many natural pauses that add an authentic feel to the interactions.

Outbursts of sudden anger sometimes made it difficult to hear what was being said. And there didn’t appear to be any degrees of anger – it would go from calm to explosive with nowhere in between.

An enjoyable show. Loved the fact that it’s Adelaide based – “do you want to be a Burnside mum before you’re 30?”

Written and directed by James Watson.

 

Cathedral Chiaroscuro

Chiaroscuro is an Italian term used to describe art works that contrast light and dark. Cathedral Chiaroscuro uses Adelaide’s Francis Xavier Cathedral as a canvas to play out its colourful dance.

Immersive sound and light shows have become quite a thing in recent times and it’s getting harder to be impressed, but seeing beams of colour projected on to a Gothic Chruch’s internal architecture takes it new heights. If nothing else, Cathedral Chiaroscuro helps you realise what remarkable buildings such churches are. If you can rid yourself of the distasteful associations associated with Christianity and just focus on the power and grandeur of the architecture you will enjoy this event. The rows of columns supporting tall arches, the stained glass imagery above the altar, and the Tudor style woodwork on the ceilings are all brought into sharp focus with ever changing colour schemes.

What was especially impressive was the precision and accuracy of the projections. The rounded edges of the arches for example would be shown in one colour, and the adjacent surface in another complementary tone. It must be weeks, perhaps longer, in the making. The projections are not generic; they are specific to the dimensions of this church!

Cathedral Chiaroscuro is about contemplation and reflection. One’s mind wanders off trying to make connections between the colours and the metaphorical imagery. It’s a very personal and subjective experience. The reflective mood is aided by a series of audio tracks that mostly feature religious choral music. Unfortunately there was no information made available about the pieces of music played.

It would have been nice to have a further 5 or 10 minutes for more personal reflection after the event but we were hustled out immediately after the show to make way for the next group queuing at the front door. It felt rushed and it shouldn’t.

Still, it’s fine way to spend 25 minutes. I think my favourite was the projection that turned the whole cathedral into a garden with flowers and flowing vines.

WOMADelaide 2026 - Day 1 (Friday, March 6th)

 

THE BEGINNINNG

The gates opened right on 4.00 pm and the small queue filed in. Some early risers among the bats were already hovering above the Frome Rd entrance. A right turn into the new market strip and a left run into the park proper and there are the flags: the Angus Watt flags – still heralding  the arrival of WOMADelaide after 30 plus years.

Those who know said it was clear that crowds were well down on this same time last year, and we all guessed why but no one really knew. Regulars found their favourite spots, got that early coffee before the rush, and set up base somewhere among the trees. Old friends and family meet up – some haven’t seen other since the last time they were at WOMAD.

The weather is perfect and WOMADelaide is already working its magic. Changes to the program due to the shenanigans in the Middle East meant the traditional welcome to country ceremony was delayed by an hour and shifted to stage 2.

Welcomes to country often feel clunky and unnecessary, but when seated on the ground, on actual Kaurna ground, it makes more sense. You can feel the earth beneath you. And Jamie Goldmsith’s welcome was one of the best. We’re not welcoming Australians to their own country, he said. This is about strengthening the connections between us and with the land. We’re really just saying, “It’s good that you’re here.”

THE MUSIC

Stage 3 kicked off with La Perla, a 3 women group from Columbia. All three play various percussion instruments and consequently, and what is always the case with Latin music, it’s all about rhythm. All three had strong voices and were often at full voice together. It sounded and felt a little tribal. Other almost acapella numbers offered beautiful contrast. I particularly enjoyed the playing of the bass hand drum – it had the effect of  a bass guitar part that kept the pulse and simultaneously added a melodic tone to the percussion.

Ashkan Shafiei and Band launched the weekend’s program on the Zoo stage. Ashkan is from Iran but is now based in Sydney. I’m sure everybody was aware of the global events casting shadows over his country but it was politely ignored. He said simply, “It’s good to be here.” The program notes say their sound is influenced by music heard in the Tehran of 60s and 70s (when Iran was a very different place); they don’t sound much like the more traditional groups that play music based on Persian folk culture. This is a much more modern sound – very jazz influenced. Many of the melodies are brass led (trumpet, saxophone), and together with congas the combined effect gave the music something of a Latin feel. By show’s end many were up and dancing. There was one traditional instrument featured, played by Ashkan - the rubab. Interestingly it was more used as a percussion instrument. It unfortunately also got a bit lost in the mix when the whole band was playing.

A brother and sister from India, Balaganesan and Bageswari, were first up in the Frome Park Pavilion playing the nadaswaram, a double reed wind instrument.  This was pure traditional music unadulterated by any modern influences, and as such could be fairly described as an acquired taste. Think the sound of the pipe that snake charmers make when mesmerising cobras and you’re somewhere near the mark. But this brother and sister team are virtuosos on their instrument, and play long complex pieces typical of so much Indian classical music. The music was all instrumental and I imagine is used for ceremonial or religious purposes. But as there was no information shared by the artists one can’t be sure. I really enjoyed it. It reminded me of WOMADelaide’s early days before World Music, ironically, became globalized.

Xylourides

I was going next to see Beoga (from Ireland) back on stage 3  but as can happen as you wander through the WOMAD park your ears and soul are led elsewhere and I found myself sitting at the Moreton Bay Stage totally engaged by the music of Xylourides from Crete. Their music is magical. Instruments featured are the Cretan lute (laouto), a Cretan lyra (an upright fiddle instrument played with a bow), and hand drum percussion. The lyra was often featured as the lead solo instrument. The vocal melodies are soulful, tuneful, and sometimes trance like. They play both fast and slow and have managed to bring traditional Cretan folk music to an adoring modern audience. They certainly won me over.

I continued on my trek back to stage 3 to catch a little of Beoga but alas – impossible! This may have been a programming error. It seems someone underestimated their popularity – this may well have been the biggest crowd ever seen at stage 3 and by the time I got there Beoga were tiny figures way off in the distance behind the trees and a sea of heads. They should have been playing the main stage.

On my way towards the exit there was a large crowd gathered in the Frome Park Pavilion for Ganna’s only Womadelaide’s performance. Ganna is from Ukraine and is one of a new breed of musicians who have learned that modern musical technology means you don’t need a band. She sounds like a band. Looking and sounding decidedly ethereal she employs looped electronica to wash over her audience and carry her angelic vocals out across the park. When she issued a call to dance hundreds responded by moving to the front of the venue to get more physical with the music. Others sat on chairs down the back and let her heavenly sounds add to the bewitching charms of WOMADelaide at night.

CLOSE

WOMADelaide is still a remarkable event. It still has a magic that has made it one of Adelaide’s precious trademarks. It still draws young and old. And as I made my way toward the exit the now illuminated market strip with its multi-coloured ceiling ribbons made me feel like I could be somewhere in South-East Asia, but no, it’s Adelaide. Gorgeous Adelaide.

 

Harry Manx Review

The Guv, March 2nd, 2026

It was worth the wait. However, leaving your audience hanging for an hour with no communication is poor form. No matter what the reason, it’s not good enough. One hour after the advertised start time Harry Manx appeared on stage.

I remembered seeing Harry play at a small folk club way back when he was a much younger man. I remember really enjoying it so thought I’d take another look and I’m so glad I did. About a minute into his first song I was in his groove. Tapping my feet and gently rocking to a quiet, bluesy, insistent beat.

This time round Harry’s playing with a bass and drum beat backing track. The purist in me would rather it wasn’t there but it’s certainly effective and it allows Harry to be something of a one man band.

Harry Manx plays guitars – one in the traditional upright fashion, one as a lap steel instrument with lots of delicious slide, and his trademark – the Mohan Veena: a 20-string instrument that sounds like a cross between guitar and sitar. He spent 12 years in India, 5 years mastering the Mohan Veena. His music consequently is often described as a bridge between east and west. Tonight’s concert was more west than east, but any song played on the Mohan Veena has that telltale persistent drone beneath the melody – that’s partly why the instrument was invented – and it’s quite mesmeric.

Tonight’s repertoire was a mix of covers and originals – many of them chosen in answer to members of the audience calling out their preferences. But his covers get such distinctive treatment that it’s like hearing them for the first time anyway. Old standards like Long Black Veil, Spoonful, and Summertime for example.

Manx certainly took his time establishing his musical identity. He wrote his first song at the age of 46. I enjoyed the covers but the highlights were definitely his own material. There’s a melodic warmth and a bewitching, beautiful tone hidden in all those strings and it’s perfectly complemented by a vocal style that delivers short phrases that fit neatly into the catchy rhythms.

One day Harry Manx had writer’s block and went out walking. He came across a homeless guy he recognized from school days and they spent the day together. And a new song was born. This story speaks volumes about the man. He took the time to talk to this homeless guy when many would walk on by.

Harry Manx has taken the slow road; the road that takes time to work out what you want to say; what you want to play, and he’s now sharing the wonderful end result with rapt audiences. He definitely has his own sound but if you were to combine the music of JJ Cale, fellow Canadian Leo Kottke, and Ry Cooder you might come up with something very similar to the Manx sound, but you’d still need to add some eastern spice.

Mama Does Roller Derby

Adelaide Entertainment Centre

Sat 28 Feb, 2026

As we settled into our seats a group of 10 roller derby contestants were doing what looked like their pre-game workout: sometimes quite elegant stretching exercises as they cruised around the track, and sometimes very physical push and shove exercises that are all part of a roller derby event.

Maxine and her daughter Billie have arrived in a small town to begin a new life. They know little or nothing about the town and are initially very dependent on each other. In something of a role reversal Mum’s a bit sassy and looking for some action, while Billie is the home body.

Billie is interested in art but her attempts to contribute to the artistic outlook of the town earn her (and mum) a session with a counsellor. It’s a witty and humorous meeting, and for the first time we witness a wonderfully innovative approach to stage direction as mum and daughter and counsellor face each other on opposite couches.

From this point on we are treated to a dazzling display of choreography on wheels. The roller derby women (from the Adelaide Roller Derby League) are now a team of stage hands moving sets around and delivering props to their rightful places with astonishing timing and accuracy. In a blur of glorious, precise movements the stage is frequently reconfigured to adjust to the changing narrative while a live band provides dynamic musical complement. It’s a stunning combination.

Meanwhile, alone back in her bedroom, Billie is dealing with her own demons – literally and figuratively. The demon character (superbly played by Benjamin Hancock) that comes to life is one of the most fetching stage creatures you will ever see. Without giving too much away the exotic movements of this demonic creature are worth the price of admission alone. An extraordinary creation.

Maxine eventually joins the local roller derby circuit and we then get to see what full-on roller derby is all about. What a spectacle!

Mama Does Derby is a brilliant idea. It brings theatre to the people with all embracing physicality, wit, laughter, music and perceptive theatre. It might well result in an explosion of interest in roller derby and theatre for younger people. Innovation plus!

Written by Virginia Gay.
Directed by Clare Watson.

Earnest?

Earnest?
The Peacock at Gluttony
Sat 21 Feb, 2026

The stage is set and looking interesting. Two gentlemen enter the stage dressed appropriately for the late nineteenth century and after some initial banter welcome Earnest Worthington to the stage with some flourish. Several times. Alas however, there appears to be no Earnest. The star of the show is AWOL. So, there’s only one thing to do in such circumstances – use whatever resources you have at your disposal. And what do you typically find at live plays? Audiences of course!

Directors are normally invisible, safely hidden in the wings, but in this case the director has no choice but to face the audience, offer apologies, and ask for assistance. And there the fun begins.

Earnest? does more or less follow the plot of the famous Oscar Wilde play that the show is based on, but takes a few liberties with the order of events and the behaviours of some of the characters. This leads to some further awkward outcomes and suffice to say it is not just Earnest that needs replacing.

Consequently, a great deal of improvisation is part of the spectacle, placing enormous stress on the original cast and the poor beleagured stage hand who’s run off his feet cleaning up accidents and making sure props are all in the right place at the right time. He ends up quite the star!

Several very funny devices are employed to assist those new to the stage play their roles – I particularly liked the advice window where we were privy to a conversation between the new Earnest and a cast member giving him tips on how to act.

Liberal doses of slapstick keep things entertainingly silly, and just for once the slapstick doesn’t feel contrived. It feels absolutely essential to save the show!

Things get merrier and merrier, funnier and funnier, and somehow manage to stumble their way to a successful conclusion where cast and audience can share a feeling of great accomplishment.

Earnest? is a great idea, a very brave undertaking, and a really good laugh for all involved. I loved it.

It has to be 5 stars. What? 5 stars for people who’ve never performed before? That doesn’t make sense. Exactly!

This review also published on The Clothesline.

William Yang ~ Milestone ~ OzAsia Review

William Yang with Elena Kats-Chernin
Adelaide Town Hall
Fri 31 Oct, 2025

William Yang has indeed lived a fascinating life. Born in country Queensland he had no concept of what ‘being Chinese’ was in his early years. He checked with his mother one day and she answered curtly, “Yes, you are Chinese.’  Wang suffered the usual taunts and insults that Australian school children dished out to migrants at the time, and Wang came to regard being Chinese as a curse.

In time he moved to Sydney and in the early seventies he came out as a gay man. It was here he became interested in photography. He eventually became known as a photographer of performers and celebrities. His slides were littered with images of the cultural and artistic literati of the times: Jim Sharman (director of Hair), Richard Neville (editor of Oz Magazine), Bob Geldof (Boomtown Rats), Ida Buttrose, Patrick White, Brett Whitely, etc.

He has been at the centre of the history of the gay movement in Australia. He was the first person to have naked images of gay men feature in a public exhibition; he was there at the first gay and lesbian Mardi Gras in Sydney in 1978;  he was very involved in the Same Sex marriage campaign in 2017. And sadly, he was at the heart of the AIDS epidemic of the 80s. His images of dying friends are perhaps the most confronting in this exhibition. Unashamedly graphic, they pull no punches in portraying the ravages AIDS wrought on its victims and their communities.

Another key aspect of Wang’s story was his return to China to try and understand his ethnic origins. As he said himself, he now needed to ‘come out’ as a Chinese man.

Milestone is essentially a collection of multiple lesser milestones in Yang’s life. Yang’s narration is supported by a vast number of slides, with frequent musical interludes of music composed by Elena Kats-Chernin. Though broken into two or three minute fragments it was interesting to contemplate the music as one whole piece. Despite the interruptions it did feel like that – there was a thematic consistency across the performance and a sameness of tonal quality that aided  reflection on the material just viewed. This was especially appreciated after some of the more confronting images.

On a much lighter note my favourite moment in the whole show was early on when we were viewing slides of the countryside around where Yang grew up with the music providing an aura of majesty. It was clear that though his ethnic origins were far removed from this land the Australian countryside of his youth meant a great deal to him.

In many ways William Yang typifies what might be considered the typical artist for the OzAsia festival. I personally would have enjoyed more analysis of how Australian and Chinese cultures worked together to create the man Willam Yang has become. He is in the ideal position to explore how Chinese and Australian cultural influences reconcile with each other. This performance however focuses more on his role in the gay community, his family, and his love of photography. And perhaps that’s what a photographer should do: let the pictures do the talking.

Music played by Ensemble Lumen.

This review also published on The Clothesline.

Classical Beatles ~ Candlelight Concert ~ Review

Capri Cinema
Thu 30 Oct, 2025 

Candlelight Concerts began in Madrid in 2019 with the aim of making classical music more accessible to younger audiences. They now feature in more than 100 cities across the globe. The bulk of their concerts focus on classical composers, but they have smartly branched out to capture new audiences who want to relive the pop/rock music of the 60s, 70s and 80s. Our hosts for this Beatles music event were The Collective String Quartet.

It’s not often you get to hear Beatles music played live by a group of musicians but when I do I’m always amazed at the enduring quality of the songs. For example, when you strip away the inane lyrics of songs like I Want to Hold Your Hand you find a gorgeous and quite complex melody.

The Collective String quartet (violins, viola and cello) did a great job of leading us through a selection of The Beatles’ greatest hits. They began with what has become yet another classic, Here Comes the Sun and let the cello lead the way. It was immediately obvious that adjusting to songs arranged with just bowed strings would be necessary as there would be no picked melodies or favourite guitar parts.

Although the songs were announced in advance it sometimes felt a little like that Spicks and Specks TV show segment where you had to guess the name of a well-known song while listening to a completely different arrangement. Help was one of those.

Some songs, like Michelle and Eleanor Rigby, seemed more suitable for string arrangements than others. I found the arrangements of some songs a little over complicated. Penny Lane lost some of its innocent joy in this reworking, and the beautifully wistful We Can Work It Out’s melody got a little lost.  Other songs flourished with the same treatment. Come Together was wonderful. The original is so ‘other’ that it almost demanded an alternative avant-garde approach. It was a shame not to hear those weird and wonderful references to ju-ju eyeballs and toe-jam footballs however!

While it was strange that there was not a weeping guitar in sight, the Collective’s arrangement of While My Guitar Gently Weeps was delightful. It sounded almost as if George Harrison had written it for four instruments it gelled so beautifully. Eleanor Rigby has already been done by so many other artists, including orchestras, that it held no surprises – but again a very effective four part arrangement was in evidence. Similarly with Yesterday – no surprises. It stayed very close to the original, and we were told it has been covered at least 3000 times!

I was surprised that Strawberry Fields was attempted. It’s one of The Beatles’ more complex songs – but it worked well with the main melody being pitched very high on violin. I loved their version of With a Little Help From My Friends. It sounded like a jaunty old-time singalong in an English country garden.

One of The Collective members occasionally read from a prepared script to tell us a little about the next few songs. It was good to get advance notice of the song list so you could identify the songs more quickly but his delivery was a little wooden. It might have been better to be more spontaneous with these introductions. It adds authenticity.

It’s normal for musicians to challenge themselves and come up with arrangements that are fresh and offer new interpretations of well-known material, but there’s always a risk that you might offend the ‘respect the melody’ school of thinking. Overall though the Collective String Quartet presented a really entertaining show that delivered some old favourites with few surprises, while pushing the boundaries with some other material. And that’s just as it should be.

This review also published on The Clothesline.

Badieh - Music from Central Asia

Rubab (Wikimedia Commons)

Nexus Art Venue
Wed 29 Oct, 2025

Badieh is a duo that play music from Central Asia – in particular the region of Khorasan. Khorasan reaches across several nations – Afghanistan, Iran, Pakistan, Turkmenistan, and Tajikistan – so their music is enriched by multiple cultural influences.

Iranian Mohammad Miraghazadeh plays the setar – a traditional thin long-necked stringed instrument from Persia. Ethnomusicologist Michel Gasco hails from Spain and plays the rubab:  an instrument with multiple strings, with several sympathetic strings like a sitar. It is considered to be the national instrument of Afghanistan.

These sympathetic strings are not played directly but resonate in tune with the plucked or picked strings causing something of a drone effect.

When the setar and rubab come together they deliver a very bright sound in both tone and rhythm. Most of Badieh’s material was instrumental and stems from the folk traditions of the border lands between Iran and Afghanistan. The few songs with vocals seemed especially ancient with plaintive, haunting melodies coming from distant worlds. At times they felt akin to chants.

Wonderful tabla from Pranav Ramji was the perfect complement providing some deeper bass notes against the strings, and adding catchy and complex rhythms. Ancient this music may be but there were plenty of foot – tapping songs. One or two almost rocked! I could quite easily imagine people dancing to these tunes when played in their homelands – if it were allowed.

Occasionally mournful and contemplative but this is mostly joyful, happy music with intricate melodies and stirring rhythms. A lovely concert that delivered old music to modern shores and where friendship, joy, and respect were very much evident in its execution.

This review also posted on The Clothesline.

Eric Bottomley

LISTEN

About a year ago an old friend passed away with a brain tumour – Eric Bottomley. Eric was well known in parts of the UK as an accomplished realist painter and folk singer. I had the pleasure of sharing a house with Eric in Dorset for several months in 1976. During that time I’d watch in awe as his canvases turned into lifelike trains or ships. But it was his singing and performing that had me more enthralled.

Eric was one of that breed of English folk performer who could make you laugh and cry in equal measure. A hauntingly beautiful folk ballad would be followed by a funny story that brought tears of laughter. Then back to the sentimental tears in response to another beautiful song. And so on. It was such a treat to watch him perform.

In the months I spent in Dorset I’d ask Eric to teach me some songs, and he’d patiently go through them with me, and write down all the words and chord charts. Watching Eric, and practicing these new songs I also learnt to finger pick.

On subsequent visits to the UK over the years I was never able to reconnect with him for various reasons. When I heard he’d died I felt surprisingly strong pangs of sadness. I thought it a bit strange to feel this much emotion for someone I had not seen for 49 years. Then I began to play some of the songs that Eric taught me and still knew how to play. I struggled to finish any of them as tears flowed. I tried another song, and then another, and then another. To my astonishment I realised I still knew 7 songs that Eric had taught me. That is a huge number of songs for one person to pass on to another musician.  Seven gorgeous songs.

As I played the songs Eric taught me down through the years I never really appreciated what a significant influence he was in my musical development; never appreciated just how much time he must have spent helping me learn those songs. Today again I began playing some of these songs and again found myself in tears. Eric was a wonderful singer: he had the ability to eke out every last nuance of beauty in a melody. There are songs that when you get them right they give you that thrill down the spine as you sing them and you know that people listening are feeling it too.

So, inadvertently Eric Bottomley has given me the endless gift of soul moving melodies. I think that’s why I felt so sad when I heard he’d gone. He’d given me a precious gift and I never got to thank him.

One of the songs he taught me was from Gerry Reffery: Patrick. Patrick as it happens is about a painter. So now Eric, whenever I sing this song you’ll be with me, trying to say thank you in song, and hopefully passing on the pleasure and beauty of the melody that do you and the song proud.

Thank you Eric. For the songs, your patience, the laughs, and the beauty of melody. Rest in peace. And I’m sorry about the porridge pots!

 

Photography: the Art of Composition

 

I have written elsewhere on my own approach to photography. I am flattered that someone has actually been inspired by my photographs and wants to know more about how I go about creating my images.

One aspect of photography that I feel confident talking about is composition.  I’m told I have a ‘good eye’ for composition and I think I have developed that aptitude further over time. Composition is the art of framing your images – what is in the image? is it close range? aligned with other elements? minimalist?  full of detail? There are many facets to composition and below is a list of the elements that I am mindful of – in no particular order.

1.      Perspective. Altering perspective can make a fairly mundane image into something much more interesting. Consider taking the photograph from different angles – up above, down under, over, beside; think about height and depth

2.      Context. Context in a very real sense is everything. A chair beside a table is not especially interesting. A fancy office chair beside a path in a public park is a much more interesting subject – it prompts so many questions. Why? Who? The chair in a park is in fact out of context – that’s what makes it interesting. A car in a café likewise - not something you normally see. Be on the look out for normal things in unusual places!

3.      Look everywhere. When you walk let your eyes roam up, down, left to right and back again. There are possible pictures everywhere. Walk with childlike vision – linger in places you wouldn’t normally; look at everything more closely. Look for patterns – on leaves, in the sky, on fences. There is magic in the mundane. Zero in on the normal.

4.      Don’t shy away from eyesores. There is beauty in chaos and mess. Mess is not always ugly. It can provide stunning unexpected abstract perspectives.

5.      Light.  Light is always changing – natural sunlight changes from morning to afternoon to dusk to night. The same scene can look quite different at different times of the day. Don’t just dismiss something or a place because “I have photographed that before.” Things look different under different lighting.

6.     Juxtaposition – look for unlikely companions. The minaret of a mosque looks great in the same frame as telegraph poles – likewise the telegraph poles! It makes both objects look more interesting.

7.     Boundaries and edges – keep an eye on the edges of things. Boundaries and edges always mean there’s a change of texture or mood. Eg shore/sand, grass/path, sky/horizon, fences/nature.  

8.      Light on water. This applies to all bodies of water – ponds, lakes, rivers, the sea. Light changes the colour of water and often bounces/reflects off it in interesting ways.

9.      Old and new. Similar to juxtaposition because there is inherent contrast between things that are old and things that are new.  Easy to spot in the architectural landscape. Similarly people – babies with the elderly for example.

10  Move your feet. I read once that the best photographers are those who use their feet! Don’t be afraid to change the angle just a couple of steps to the left, or a few steps further back. Or move to the side of the subject and take it in profile. Look for the best or most interesting angle.

11  People: unposed is nearly always better.

12  Architecture/Built Environment Many towns and cities display infinite variety in their buildings. Old/new; small/large; religious/ secular; residential/commercial. Isolate the details of what defines a building and take close-ups – gutters, gables, steps, windows, etc

13  Animals are always a great subject but are often hard to catch unless they’re asleep. It  requires a lot of patience.

14  Layers. You will be surprised how often the visual world presents itself in layers. Sand/sea/sky is an obvious one. Footpath/hedge/house might be another. Ground/trees/sky…..

I hope some might find this list useful. Please leave a comment or question below if you’d like me to elaborate more on any of these points.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Accidentally Like a Martyr ( a review from 2021)

 Henry Wagons Does Warren Zevon

Governor Hindmarsh Hotel, Wed 28 Apr, 2021

Many of Warren Zevon’s songs begin with an instantly recognisable and catchy hook. Such is the intro to Lawyers Guns And Money – power chords belted out with a pounding beat and a great melodic hook – and so the show began. Henry Wagons in handcuffs was a nice touch. It also provided a clue to his curious interpretation of the music and persona of Warren Zevon. The infamous Excitable Boy was next up (“He bit the usherette’s leg in the dark”) as Wagons hopped and strutted around the stage. Zevon himself typically exhibited little extravagant movement as a live performer – whether on keyboard or guitar – and it was a little disconcerting to watch these classics in new hands.

We learned that Zevon briefly studied classical music with Stravinsky and then heard a song that bore useabsolutely no clue of that tutoring – I Was In The House When The House Burned Down – but it offered evidence of his bizarre approach to lyric writing. He had a penchant for lyrics that were off centre and occasionally outrageous or shocking. The epic tale of a mercenary named Roland is a case in point. Wagons seemed to have settled into the Zevon stream by now and really nailed the vocal on Roland The Headless Thompson Gunner. He seemed more comfortable singing the lower registers in the slightly slower Zevon songs where the notes are longer and more sonorous and the melodies easier to land on. And despite these being rock songs melody was always paramount in Zevon’s material.

Two Hawaii based songs – the catchy Hula Hula Boys, and Desperadoes Under The Eaves – a song written during a period of extended isolation in a Hawaiian hotel – rounded out the first set and Wagons left the stage in handcuffs once more.

The second half began with Wagons appearing in bathrobe and towel saying he wasn’t ready but the band cajoled him into singing Johnny Strikes Up the Band anyway. I’ve always regarded this song as a brilliant example of how a band might start a gig. It was a shame that the power and appeal of this song was sacrificed to humour.

In general though, the insertion of humour made the show more enjoyable. Zevon after all was a quirky character and Wagons has every right to interpret the music and context in any way he sees fit but there were times when his lighthearted approach detracted from the gravitas of the material.

The band competently rolled out Poor Poor Pitiful Me and the aching Carmelita while Wagons finished his shower.

A quiz show involving members of the audience revealed little new info about Zevon and probably could have been omitted but some obviously enjoyed it. Using Accidentally Like A Martyr as a prop for some cheap audience engagement however just devalued the power of a truly great love song.

The show concluded with a song that Dylan recorded – The Mutineer – with Wagons on grand piano.

A really enjoyable night; Wagons and the band did a great job of reworking these classics. In terms of stage craft, it‘s so hard to get the balance right in these ‘tribute acts’. Henry Wagons is not Warren Zevon and he does a fair job of doing it his way even if a little disconcerting.

What definitely shone through however is how great these songs are; many rue the fact that so many tribute acts are hogging the play space in live music venues these days but this is another batch of material that deserves a second hearing, and the opportunity to be passed on to another generation. Warren Zevon was an extraordinary songwriter/singer who for whatever reason never got the musical headlines he warranted.

This review also published on The Clothesline.