Peter Hudson Photographic

‘Mark Sinclair’ Write-Up: Part 2

Hey Guy's!

So here’s Part 2 and the final part of your early Christmas present! I hope you enjoy it!

Until next year!

Much Love

- Peter & 'Mark'

GRIET!’s 3^rd Birthday Bash 25.11.2011 @ Arcade Empire Feat. F.O.O.L & DirtyLoud

Words By: ‘Mark Sinclair’

Images By: Peter John ‘Jik’ Hudson

I stand stock still sipping. Taking it all in, like a Hindu cow; the benevolent bovine. The composed expression of a Native American smeared across my face. But inside I’m all fire and brimstone; I want to erupt, scream, F@#%OUT and hurt somebody. I’m standing on the dance floor under a lighting rig watching Oliver Twisted. I had bounded into the space moments before, dancing harder than the music permitted, harder than the sparse veil of a crowd I expected to disappear into allowed. It failed to hide my madness, the turmoil of my previous week was on display and so I adopted a pose of the composed; no longer exposed, emotionally closed and detached. I react to nothing, no longer huffing and puffing. I feel like Oliver Twist twisted, I went out to “make handkerchiefs” with a friend and had my pockets picked. F@#%ING C#NT. Will people just come and dance already? I want to dance out my frustrations, I want to join the guys dancing in the back of Hotel California.

-DirtyLoud-

Yesterday’s Pupil does it. He brings a crowd streaming in. Yes. The deep bass grips me but the lights are wasted as I screw up my face, closing my eyes. Crunch. Flex. Flail. F@#%. F@#% yes, bass blessed. Best! There’s nothing like being drawn into the present and letting go. Yesterday’s Pupil is a musician extraordinaire. His understanding of his art bleeds through in his music. He speaks through it, communicating the complex emotions which most lovers can only express through copulation. I haven’t seen him since Oppi 2010 where he greeted us with a hearty “F@#% you,” and then justified his arrogance through music which caught me off guard and had me in awe all the way back to camp.

-DirtyLoud-

Arcade Empire; always a pleasure. Here transformed into a demon child’s carnival fantasy. A carnal fallacy. A balloon animal turned into a fleshless phallus. Outside what was once a parking lot is now a swirl of lights and decor; stilts, balloons, sparklers, jugglers, beer and madness. Inside it’s the usual intensity. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it; just get fixed with a fix quick.

-F.O.O.L-

DirtyLoud take it even deeper. The complexity that is Yesterday’s Pupil is replaced by something less intricate but more execrative. Each bass drop is a frustration owned; primal scream therapy externalised into a bodily movement. Primal, yes. I can feel neurotransmitters flickering on and off in that reptilian part of my brain. Self consciousness gives way to an urge to kill, eat and F@#%. The place is packed, movement through the crowd becomes impossible. The only choice you have is stand your ground and party. Party hard. Retaliate to shoves from the rear by stepping forward and lunging back into them. Confront your feelings. Don’t take SH!T. It’s all there in the music, lessons to live your life by.

-F.O.O.L-

" I'm a devil, I'm a demon, I'm a voice in your head,

You know the one that's telling you to jump over the edge "

-F.O.O.L-

By the time F.O.O.L. come on I’m back; returned from the dark state of mind which plagued me. A veil has been lifted from my state of consciousness. I feel like a different person. I realise that the things we feel are an intersection of external stimuli and our perspective. And that if we carry our perspective from one set of stimuli to the next we will get a distorted image of reality. We need transitions, we need to shake free of the binding force of our memories which we cling to through emotions. Luckily my perspective and the stimulation were not independent, they influenced each other and the product was the reality I experienced. “Why can’t I be happy always?” I ponder with a smile. -MS

-F.O.O.L-

'Mark Sinclair' Write-Up: Part 1

Hey Guy's!

I hope the festive season is treating you all well! Just beacuse I love every single one of you, I have an early Christmas present for you! Exciting right?!

So as of today, PETER HUDSON PHOTOGRAPHIC is collaborating with an extremely talented, crazy, uncensored writer to do write-ups for parties that I shoot. No one know's who he is, but he goes by the alias of 'Mark Sinclair'. Pretty rad, right!

So just because its Christmas, I'm re-upping the pictures of GRIET!FEST 2011 @ Town Hall Feat. BELZEBASS, & GRIET!'S 3rd Birthday Bash Feat. F.O.O.L & DirtyLoud, with write-ups by the infamous 'Mark Sinclair'!

So next year myself & 'Mark Sinclair' will be working together to bring you the craziness that goes on in the JHB & PTA night life!

Have a Merry Christmas & a Happy New Year guy's! Remember to be safe while travelling!

Much Love

- Peter & 'Mark'

GRIET!FEST - 27.08.2011 @ TOWN HALL - FEAT. BELZEBASS (ITALY)

Words By: ‘Mark Sinclair’

Images By: Peter John ‘Jik’ Hudson

-Deeziak on the Science Frikshun Stage-

In the beginning there was music. But it wasn’t sound; sound needs something to travel through and something to receive it. So music looked down at itself and said, “What the F@#%?” and in that moment music solidified into something capable of existing in and of itself. Matter was born. From there the universe formed much like you’d expect it to; atoms and molecules, stars and planets, eventually the Earth and the moon, and then through emergence and complexification the music made mass moulded itself into something that could dance, life was born; consciousness. Life was simple first, a couple of semi permeable membranes exchanging ideas; F@#%ING and splitting, F@#%ING and splitting. But eventually they evolved into the complexity of the human brain; which like the music looked down at itself and said “What the F@#%?” Self consciousness emerged and brought with it an urge to understand itself and express itself to others. Music was reborn in the kiln of introspection over the fires of self expression. Music evolved along with us as both the medium and the message and it reached its culmination in the nexus of space and time we called GRIET!FEST.

-The Crowd Outside at the GRIET! Main Stage-

-Double Adapter Crowd Surfing-

I drove to Pretoria stopping once for supplies. The Gypsy was rocking his high horse again, refusing to partake in our allotted neurochemistry; he wanted LSD. The rest of us would be swinging disco biscuits. When I arrived it was Burny and the Gypsy who greeted me. The excitement was plastered across our faces as we prepared for the ensuing chaos. While we sat and drank I split the tab for the Gypsy and placed his half in a tiny bankie for him. We were restless; we had no weed, so I took the other half, halved it again and placed one quarter in my mouth and the other in Burny’s. I called Danny Magik and asked her about the pot she owed me. She said it was in her flat in Pretoria but that she was in Joburg. With her permission we picked up Patty, went to Dan’s flat, hustled security, got inside, climbed through a window and stole the marijuana. Success! Then we past the time smoking, drinking, tripping and waiting to F@#%OUT. When Rose arrived ready to go we left for Hotbox Studios.

-Double Adapter performing alongside Haezer-

I had a seat on the party bus; the others would be driving my car to Joburg with Burny at the helm. Both of us were tripping a lot harder than we had expected to; I had anxieties about being on a bus with strangers, Burny had anxieties about driving. We arrived at Hotbox with Rose leading the way. She’s a familiar face in that scene and knew half of the people there. We fire up a joint, smoke a pipe with a blond dreadlocked Smile and converse with the people around us. The Smile says he has to work tonight and won’t be joining us. Sucks to be you guy. I then decided to give Rose my spot on the bus, partly because I wasn’t comfortable tripping with a busload of strangers, partly because I was worried about Burny driving and partly because Rose was too keen to get on that bus. You should have seen that smile. It just felt like the right thing to do.

-Partying hard at the GRIET! Main Stage to Double Adapter & Haezer-

We picked up Danny Magik on our way in and got to the party as the doors were opening. It was our idea to get there early and skip the line but unfortunately it was already stretching down the road. Swamp met us there and the 2 of us pushed through to the front, were ticked off the list and strapped with armbands. I then bought 4 bands, took them outside, strapped up my friends and we walked straight in. Party on. The Science Frikshun stage was already going off; it would continue to bring it strong till we left. The main stage was still getting into the groove but the Young Bloods stage at The Woods was were Burny and I found ourselves jamming. Maki was up and executing a manoeuvre which had us in awe. He was DJing and simultaneously knocking out a few riffs on an electric guitar which he managed to weave into the music. I would have clapped but I was too busy dancing. From there we knocked back a few beers and a disco biscuit each; we were finally at GRIET!FEST, the pre-party nervous tension characterised by constant glimpses into the future and various anticipations dissipated to make way for an event which nailed you to the present moment in such a way that embracing it is the only option. There is no past, there is no future, there is only here and now; the only logical course of action is to dance with it.

-Haezer & Double Adapter throwing down a set together-

The pill takes hold, three joints are rolled and we’re now ready to lose control. The busload from the bus drive arrive and Rose and the Dreadlocked Smile dive out and jive in; turns out this party isn’t to be missed on account of something as trivial as obligations. We get ourselves to the main stage, our boys Crossman and Phizisist have just started up and it’s time for us to do the same. Positioning ourselves front left and dancing like mad things we take advantage of the open space. This is how we stretch; the blood flowing to every extremity. This is how we get into the zone; a deep bass induced trance, a higher level of awareness. This is how we party; you can’t keep up then get the F@#% out. We don’t have time for Blackberries, those glowing signs you F@#%’S hold above your head which say, “I’m a F@#%ING douche!” Can’t you see the photographer? His pictures will come out far better than your blurred BULLSH!T ejaculations of colour on your tiny screen. Troll for pics online after the fact. Please just F@#%ING dance! You’re speed bumps on the dance floor; the only time you smile is when someone aims the receiving end of their electronic personality at you.

-Haezer taking in the Love-

On the stage Haezer, Tim and Dan are shuffling about. We catch glimpses of them as they come and go. All the anticipations of the preceding week are reflected in this moment as we wait for them to start. They don’t start slowly and build up. They don’t make attempts at subtlety or subliminal hints of what’s to come. Because it has already arrived, it is here and demands your full attention. It took over so quickly that trying to describe the transition is like trying to describe the interface between reflection and the reflected. All I know is that I’m dancing hard, my body feels amazing, every twist and thrust a celebration of the music, every beat a celebration of the people dancing to it. We are here because of it and it is here because of us. The answer to the question, “purpose?” is in the way your lips curl around the word as you speak it. Dan’s visuals flash and Flikker F@#%ED fully formed flowing fluid spilling, swilling, swirling surreal interpretations of the auditory stimulation taking place in each ear here now, now hear, see, touch, taste, smell it’s all there gushing in through your senses. F@#%ED the system, cos we don’t give a F@#%. I fire up a joint and we pass it around our group of friends. The Smile joins us in the festivities. Drag deep, lungs fill, smoke escapes from mouth and nose. Heads tilt skyward around us as people smell the sweet scent and wonder about its origin. The crowd hides us. We lose our individuality on one level; just another head bobbing body rocking. But on another level, the more personal level which is subjective experience, the crowd blesses us with the freedom to be wholly and completely ourselves. Camouflaging our all too personal styles of dancing, we move as though we’re alone in our rooms. It feels amazing. First Dan is crowd surfing, then Tim. It’s awkward since the space afforded to us by the Town hall parking area means the crowd is not too dense. They move over this more liquid crowd, tumbling this way and that. Then Haezer hops in to show the boys how it’s done by a veteran. Next thing I know they’re letting all the girls in front over the railing to dance on the stage. There are photographers everywhere.

-Double Adapter jamming HARD!-

From there it degrades into what I interpret as a publicity stunt. The stage is packed with girls trying to gyrate sexily to filthy electro thrash F@#%OUT music. It looks silly and overplayed but I’m sure the photos will come out nice. COMERCIAL MUSIC IS DEAD F@#%ERS, are you trying to resurrect it? They chase the girls away and get started on finishing. The music calms slightly for the first time since they came on. And there it is. As predicted. Smells like Teen spirit smashes into us and we go ballistic. Tim jumps into the crowd, he’s not here to surf or sign SH!T. He’s here to F@#%OUT and mosh to electro. Pushing, bumping, shoving, smiling people loving every second.

-Good Times!-

After the Haezer Double Adaptation the purple bandits take the stage. The type of music deaf people could enjoy as it vibrates about their naughty bits. The corrugated steel roof above us has shuddered to the bass all night. It’s just audible, intermingled with the music; the vibrations sound like a large crowd cheering us on, a throaty “Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.” We are the nightlife athletes trained and ready for the rest of the marathon. The music falls into one of the troughs of a wave and slowly starts building itself up to breaking point again. Suddenly people around me are dropping to their haunches. I do the same, pulling at my friends legs to get them down. We wait patiently, looking over our shoulders at the crowd draped as a flesh carpet over the bricks. Boom! We explode up; I extend my fist as I jump high, super ultimate air punch bitch, “F@#% yeah!” This feels good, this feels F@#%ING great. I’m dancing with Danny Magik and a guy asks if we’re dating. We know where he’s going with this and Danny replies in the affirmative. He says she’s beautiful and that I’m a lucky man. I say, “You have no idea.”

-Belzebass throwing it down-

Danny hugs me as I look at the guy pointing at Pat and Rose and telling him that they are my girlfriends too. He thinks I’m BULLSH!TTING; I guess I am if I was to ascribe to his cultural boundaries. But just to confuse him further I pull Pat towards me and kiss her. A bit later I throw Rose on my shoulders and dance underneath her as she extends her hands skywards and fondles the lasers. F@#% me it feels good; from start to fin. The next DJ comes on and we just keep going and going. No break for the wicked. I haven’t left the main stage since Crossman and Phizisist. All of my friends have gone and come back a couple of times, I have intermittently thrown money at departing friends with one instruction, “Black Label!” I retract from my trance and look about myself, the crowd has just about dissipated, I can feel a breeze blowing through the gaps for the first time and decide it’s time to head inside.

-Belzebass loving the JHB crowd-

Inside Rudeone owns Science Frikshun. F@#% me I didn’t know he could scratch like that. Sick, sick, sick. The guy who comes on after him fails and Deeziak takes over. That MOTHERF@#%ER is the personification of stamina. He just keeps going and going and going. I wish we could too but no, it has to end sometime. We grab what’s left of our group. The Swamp Thing and Danny Magik have already vaporised. The Gypsy, Rose, Pat, Burny and I pile into my car and drive back to the flat. We blast sound all the way home, a thank you prayer to music for everything she has given us. -MS

-Belzebass-

Pages

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Demolition Squad Bboy's JHB CBD Photo Shoot

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

An Early Christmas Present For All My Lovlies! Part 2

An Early Christmas Present For All My Lovlies! Part 1

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

GRIETFEST Presents - BELZEBASS (Italy) @ TOWNHALL

BERMA Clothing USA - Bringing A Shark To A Gunfight

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