When I Cried In Lakota

“I’ll spend my life wandering around Lakota, I’ll never leave.”

Although taken in Emily's room, this is a foreshadowing of how I looked in Lakota: terrified, possessed, and a little bit wavey. 

Let me just set the scene. We begin pre-drinking (or for any Grandparents reading this, pre-studying) at 11-ish, getting hyped for our night out to Lakota. Every few moments, Emily says ‘admit how cool my room is’ or I say ‘admit how nice this crop top is’, so there’s a lot of reassurance and admittings going around. We finally leave when our uber driver threatens to cancel on us if we don’t stop taking photos or topping up our drinks and actually just get in the car. So far, so normal.

My regular territory is the Triangle and occasionally branches out to SWX. I haven’t been to Lakota since Freshers. Unfortunately, I’d promised I’d come if they could find me a ticket around £10. Considering most of the tickets were selling for £20, I was pretty confident with my bluff. I had not taken into account Tash’s skills on Clifton and Stoke Bishop Tickets, so, alas, here I was, squished up in the back of an uber on the way to Lakota. In return, I’d been promised some edgy photos on Stokes Croft. In my defence, I don’t often get down to the artiest road in Bristol, so I though I’d take the opportunity to get some instragram-worthy graffiti shots whilst also doing shots.

I hadn’t taken into account the cold, so we end up just huddled in eachother’s jackets like penguins, braving the weather to get into the club. As soon as we get in, Ionia and I announce we’ll meet the others in the toilet. And this is where the nightmare begins. I have never encountered a women’s toilet this difficult to locate, and I’ve been to my fair share of women’s toilets in my life as a woman with a bladder. After approximately four hours (ok, maybe ten minutes) of pushing through rooms and rooms of wavey music and wavey crowds of wavey dancers, we admit defeat and end up using the portaloos in the smoking area, completely and utterly disorientated about where we are.

We attempt to call the others and describe where we are but the smoking area is potentially the size of Wales, with the population of India.  To make matters that much more wavey (eg. more of a mare), they are operating a one-way system in and out of the smoking area, making it pretty much impossible to agree a meeting point. I try begging the security to let us out through the entrance as we are entirely lost and just want to walk back the way we came, but they seem to have been trained in Callais.

Here we were at Pres: Innocent and Naive. (And yes, Em, your room is cool.) 

Later on in the night, I announce I have had enough of rubbing all my body parts against numerous strangers to move anywhere. We are back outside (as it seems all doors lead here) and Tash and I message everyone to let them know we will meet at the exit of the club. I grab Tash’s hand and march purposefully out of the smoking area through corridors and into the main dancefloor. I can see an exit sign in the distance like some mirage in a desert, and head there. I step on many a Reebok foot and elbow many an emblazoned FILA chest, I may also have two burst eardrums but it’s okay, I’m staying positive.

We finally push through a door, taking a deep breath of fresh air… only to realise this air actually isn’t so fresh. We are Back In The Smoking Area. I literally don’t know how, but Lakota’s architect must be a genius, as they have managed to create a building that, from the outside looks perfectly normal, but from the inside has doors that only lead back into the club or the Haven of Tobacco.

It is at this point that I burst into tears. Gazing at the wavey garms surrounding me, I accept that this is my new reality, these are the only people I will ever see again. I am never leaving Lakota. You know how on an amazing night out people say they’re never leaving? Well, here it could be factually true.

Some of the crew getting to grips with our New Reality: Life in the Lakota Smoking Area 

Okay, so if you’re still reading and haven’t branded me a complete psychopath, then you may have reached the conclusion that… Plot Twist: we did actually get out of Lakota. Turns out there were perhaps some doors that did lead out onto the street, but I was genuinely amazed we found them. In the Uber back (yes, we got another Uber, I had had a traumatic experience, alright), it arose that not everyone had had such a terrible time, and that certain members of the crew had actually enjoyed themselves, but I’m in denial about that.

Ionia enjoying the freedom of being outside the club. The graffiti reads 'Serve First Those Who Suffer Most', which basically means I should always get served first at the bar in Lakota.

Even if we did actually get out, consider this a public service announcement and prepare yourself. You may not be so lucky.

In conclusion, I think I’ll just stick with Lola’s.

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Epigram: 'Brothers Sisters'

‘An exhibition about being proud of our differences’

Article published by Epigram March 11th 2017. 

Hudi Charin scopes out the Gallimaufry as it hosts this month’s ‘Brothers, Sisters’ fundraiser exhibition, displaying works of ten Bristol artists.

Posters read ‘Equality Not Division, Hope Not Hate, Positivity Not Fear’. The exhibition is clearly inspired by recent political events in the States, and is a creative way to express social discontent in art as well as providing a practical, financial cause.

A quick google search informs me that ‘gallimaufry’ means a confused jumble or medley of things, and this is a great way to describe the bar. One part Modern European restaurant, one part homely bar, one part arty space, one part music venue, The Gallimaufry somehow manages to cover all of this without looking like it’s trying too hard.

a unique atmosphere for viewing art

However, it would be an overstatement to call the cosy mezzanine area a ‘gallery space’ as the exhibition really amounts to ten A2 prints stuck up on a few wooden walls. Do not go in to The Gallimaufry expecting to spend time wandering around a traditional exhibition. Instead, order yourself a drink and some of their locally sourced food and enjoy the art in a more chilled way.

With a rustic vibe, low lighting and wooden chairs, this provides a unique atmosphere for viewing art. You may have to lean over some other diners to actually be able to see all of it—as I awkwardly attempted to—but this really adds to the friendly, lively environment. Especially in the run up to exams, it is great to know about this little place to take you away from the bustling roads outside.

Like most of the area around Stokes Croft, this is a part of Bristol which thrives on political artistic expression. Half of the proceeds go to the artist and half to the ACLU, showing how passionate the Gallimaufry is about fostering local artists who have something to say.

this is an exhibition which celebrates strength during social adversity

Unlike some of the graffiti in the area, most of these prints are quietly political rather than aggressively so. Just take Tabitha Panter’s illustration of the backs of different sofas. If you look carefully you can see loads of varied types of people cuddling together on the cushions. It’s a subtle way of showing diversity, and something we all have in common- loving the feel of squishing up on a sofa to eat a meal or watch some TV.

sitting in a darkish mezzanine, sipping a pint and taking a moment to think a bit about the world around you

From a piece inspired by Maya Angelou’s Life Doesn’t Frighten Me to an image of a family hugging an outsider, this is an exhibition which celebrates strength during social adversity. Yes, there is one illustration which overtly shows Trump, but most of these paintings let you reach your own conclusions.

If anything, you will want more of an explanation. Underneath each piece is simply the artist’s name, not even the title of the work. This is oddly frustrating when confronted with such ambiguous narratives. Perhaps this is intended to nurture more curiosity and discussion.

This is an exhibition about being proud of […] our differences

As exasperating as the uncertainty may be, it is an interesting way of bringing you into each piece. You cannot just be a bystander who reads the plaque underneath and walks away, you have to try to understand what the artist is expressing.

This is an exhibition about being proud of living in Bristol, proud of our differences and proud of our creativity. It is about sitting in a darkish mezzanine, sipping a pint and taking a moment to think a little about the world around you.

The work is up for the rest of the month at The Gallimaufry on Gloucester Road.

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Illuminating Treasures

"Heroic deeds wrapped in myth, mystery and magic."

In 2009, a metal detector stumbled across The Staffordshire Hoard that turned out to be the largest collection of Anglo Saxon treasure ever found. Although owned by Birmingham City Council, the Bristol Museum is currently displaying the collection in their ‘Warrior Treasures’ exhibition.

Gold collar from the hilt of a single-bladed knife (seax). Photo: Birmingham Museums Trust

Unfortunately, fragments of Anglo-Saxon life is a path well-trodden and something all of us are likely to have seen before. So, the really astonishing part of this display is the curatorial skill with which they have managed to breathe new, exciting life into this subject.

Set in a dark exhibition space, the Bristol Museum utilises touch screens and animation to incorporate modern technology without overshadowing the actual treasures. The exhibition could easily have been a repetitive set of cabinets, overwhelming in the number of tiny golden pieces. Yet the small alcoves allow you to digest the pieces in themes, taking in one cabinet at a time. Golden lettering reads ‘Fit for a King’ or ‘Gift Giving’. Next to each description is a screen with a small animation, placing each piece in its context, such as on a hilt of a sword. 

The layout of the exhibition 

There is also a timeline which places the pieces in the turning point of Anglo Saxon history, between Paganism and Christendom. Surround sound sets the scene with the howls and rustling of a nocturnal forest. The darkness of the room reminds us how the Anglo Saxon craftsman would have forged these treasures in dimly lit spaces with the most basic of tools. In this way, you become immersed in this moment of history. As the curator of antiquities at Birmingham Museum has said, this type of display ensures the “Dark Ages are no longer so dark.”

Touch screens allow you to explore how each artefact would have been used 

The term ‘fun for all the family’ is hilariously over-used in public attractions, but this exhibition really has achieved this.  This is a highly interactive display, and probably has done this most effectively out of recent ones I’ve seen. All museums and galleries are trying to do this now, but there is a fine line between use of technology and replacing historical objects entirely. In this exhibition, touch screens allow you to call up and zoom in on pieces that entice you. Benches in the middle are covered in faux fur, creating an interesting atmosphere when placed in front of photos of wolves. It evokes the environment where everything was utilised, no resource was wasted. It is interesting to understand that this is an island we live on but they were in conditions we are no longer familiar with.

Even the seating is in theme: fake tree stumps and fur 

In a small circular space, hinting at the famous Anglo-Saxon huts, visitors are encouraged to step inside and sit on mock tree stumps: “This is a space to share, a space to gather for the telling of stories, to speak, to listen, to read or… to imagine what came before that is no longer there.” A notice underneath warns that this area may be in use by school groups, and that is something I can very much imagine. What group of school kids wouldn’t want to huddle up in a dark space, surrounded by sounds of woodland creatures, and whisper mystical stories? A digital fire flickers and cracks in the middle. A book on the side tells visitors to write their own stories of mystical warriors. Around the walls reads “a flicker of the past in the flicker of the flame… of voice and harp in harmony sharing fabled stories of those long since gone, of heroic deeds wrapped in myth, mystery and magic.”

Circular seating and a 'log fire' encourage story telling 

We’ve all seen ancient pottery and old armour, but it is unlikely we’ve seen it in an exhibition this effective at conveying the mystical atmosphere of the Dark Ages. It shows us this strange relationship between beautiful craftsmanship and the blood-thirsty conquests of the middle ages.

Ancient artefacts are animated and given new life 

At the end is the classic trope of dress up and a mirror. But I was pleasantly surprised when I tried on my helmet, for a recording inside applauds a warrior who has done well in battle. It seems every detail has been considered: how can we make this a full immersive experience? I genuinely see this as the future of heritage conservation and education. In a world of ever-developing technology, it is no longer efficient to attract children with a plain glass cabinet. Sometimes, you just need to add in the flicker of a flame here and there, a digitalisation of an imagined warrior, and the sounds of wolves.

Embracing my inner (child) warrior... 

Catch it here until the 23rd April 2017: 

https://www.bristolmuseums.org.uk/bristol-museum-and-art-gallery/whats-on/warrior-treasures/ 

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