Strand Magazine 2021 Summer Issue

STRAND
STRAND
STRANDSUMMER ISSUE: 2021









in conversation with

HOUSEPLANT

Houseplant, a band comprised entirely of university students,
features Callum (vocals and bass), Ryan (lead guitar and
production), Isaac (rhythm guitar), and Carlos (drums).
Claiming to draw influence mostly from 90’s and early noughties
indie music, Houseplant expresses their unique charm through their
blend of original, upbeat, and dynamic music.
During this interview, the members of Houseplant stood out as incredibly
humble, friendly, and witty, discussing their band’s formation, the
impact of lockdown, and their self-titled debut EP, Houseplant.

Written by Amy Shah, edited by Josh Aberman
Photography by Ana-Maria Oancea



with me the most, but it’s the one I like
most in terms of the sound. When we
sit down and play together, you can
How tell we are mixing a lot of different
did the name influences. In my case specifically, I
Houseplant come from more of a Jazz background
come about? and I think you can hear that. Our drum

Callum: One of my beats are not just a typical backbeat,
friends from home was at the pub taking I switch it up a bit with aspects I'm
the piss saying “Oh God, Indie bands familiar with.

can just call themselves anything.” He Isaac: I'd say
started listing things like “table, chair, that one too,
houseplant.” I knew he was taking the as it showcases
piss, but I really liked Houseplant when I our different
heard it. We were a bit on the fence about skills and it
it at first, thinking: ‘is it sounding a has a definite
bit too bedroom pop’? singalong

Ryan: It was meant to be temporary but chorus. The
then people would ask, ‘When’s the next verse is a litt-
Houseplant gig?’ It would be kind of le bit cheeky,
rude to change it. and I think we
are trying to
embrace that.
What song from the EP resonates You just can’t
best with you and why? deny that it’s
Carlos: Personally, I’m looking forward pretty funky.
to performing All I
Say, it’s just a bit
different from How did
what we usually Lockdown
do. It might impact you guys?
not be the one
that resonates Ryan: Without lockdown we wouldn’t
have got the EP out. Personally, just
being stuck in my house gave me so
much more time to work on it.

Isaac: I felt very stifled by lockdown.
I use guitar as something to do
once I’ve done something else,
and I can relax whilst doing it.
I found myself over lockdown Isaac:
Your mum
just relaxing all day so playing will think we're
guitar didn’t have that same sense of
expression as it used to. Maybe because I mediocre.

wasn’t feeling as many different things
or going and experiencing What are your thoughts on
d i f f e r e n t London’s Indie scene right now,
things. and where it’s headed?

C a l l u m : _ Ryan: The beauty of it is that there’s so
The main much going on in London, and there’s so
downfall was many different scenes. There’s something
no gigs or for everyone. Especially when everything
rehearsals, but starts opening up and live gigs happen
it feels good again, London is going to explode with
to be back. We all of this new music that people have been
are excited to writing in lockdown. It’s going to be a
perform the great time for live music.
songs on the
EP and some of
our new music
which we came Come see Houseplant in the

up with during flesh at The Fiddler's Elbow in
lockdown at
our gig in July. Chalk Farm on the 4th of july!

If you could come up with a
slogan that encapsulates your
vibe, what would it be?

Callum: A few cheeky boys making
some cheeky music.



Written by Ishita Uppadhayay, Edited by Ketki Mahabaleshwarkar



Edited by Ishita Uppadhayay'







Written by Sakeena Haider







Written by Malina Aniol and
Edited by Ketki Mahabaleshwarkar

DANCEFLOOR VISIONS

OF TULLE AND

TECHNO*

The announcement, that this summer will see
the doors of clubs FINALLY welcoming us
back, was probably THE most gratifying piece
of news I have received this entire year. Ok,
maybe coming in a close draw with the news,
that I was going to be the fashion co-editor at
the STRAND. (wink-wink)

Was my happiness owed to finally being able
to move ecstatically to mind-expanding music?
Was it owed to the ‘life chats’ with strangers
confessing their secrets in the enigmatic glow
of the smoking area? or, rather to the thrill of
getting dressed up as wacky as possible? I
reckon, it was probably a combination of all of
the above and some. Clubs, especially those
run under the ‘mainstream’ radar, are not just
places of entertainment, although that, they
proudly are. They are also ‘spaces of
performance’, where we go to experiment
with identity- putting on ‘the nocturnal self’, and
‘spaces of creativity’, where the seeds for
innovative projects are planted.
What exactly is meant by this notion of the
‘nocturnal self’ and how are you supposed to
‘put it on’? It is interesting to note, that the
expression used in the context of identity,
‘putting your nocturnal self on’ is the same
expression, that we use when we talk about
getting dressed. While recognising the fact that
one’s personality cannot be judged based
simply on what they wear, theatre tell us that
the transition between different modes of
existing, different facets of the self, is
materialised through the change of costume.
This is why it is here, at the !gritty edge of art,
music, and performance", where the most
cutting-edge vogues emerge, as a result of the
interaction between different art forms and a
newly attained sense of individualism.

IS IT A PARTY OR IS IT A ‘HAPPENING’?
It is obvious, then, a rave is not just a party. But what exactly is it then? And how does fashion play into it? The term ‘happening’
describes an art-related event, aiming to interrupt the automatic flow of everyday reality by staging an intervention, using theatre,
music, dance, poetry, painting, etc. Its goal is to ultimately dissolve the barriers separating life and art, by being devoted to a
participatory audience and to a chance-driven form. The clear line marking where performance begins and reality ends, where
artist begins and spectator ends, is no longer there. Likewise at a rave, the audience plays as much of a role in creating the space
as the DJ and the rave curators. ‘The crowd vibes" influence the selection of tracks, as much as the music selected determines the
behaviour/mentality of individuals. Both the individuals on the dance floor, as well as the person behind the decks, can be regarded

“Life is a playful art...”to !perform" something. Both can be perceived as creators/ artists of a new reimagined reality



...says Georgio (@the_curly_monster), DJ, artist and co-founder of ‘Creatures’ in an interview we did recently.

‘Creatures’ is an ongoing series of rave events, which was conceptualised around the same idea of disrupting the
mechanical rhythm of modern society, through opening up a space of intense stimulation, oddity, and subversion. By
entering this space, the participants are enabled to tap into their inner magical creature. Each and every one of us is
given the possibility to be reborn as a freer, more expressive and authentic version of ourselves. The opportunity to
cross paths with “other strangers in their creature mode” is for Georgio, who was himself shaped both artistically and
socially (if there is such a difference) by the underground, what the magic is all about: being mutually inspired and
nurtured in a heady air of conversation, dance, voyeurism.

Beyond the transgressive ethos that ’Creatures’ was founded on, it was also a response to the limited diversity of
nightlife provided by mainstream clubs. The commodification that many clubs in the capital have severely undergone in
recent years is a contradiction of their original founding desire to digress: physically, mentally, socially. They were
exceptional sites compared to other entertainment venues thanks to the potential for experimentation they offered:
from the recreational drug use to the art-warped interiors, where one could dance, wander, pose, mingle in. Some of
the most iconic clubs from this era, the Blitz and Taboo, encouraged their clientele to dress ‘as though your life
depends on it’.They discouraged passive consumers and based their exclusivity on the premise of ‘unique identities’,
as opposed to uniform bodies. No wonder then, why performance artists, designers, and ‘misfits’ were drawn by the
scene’s call for exhibitionism and creativity. These ‘misfits’, including Boy George, Michael Clark, Princess Julia, would
become known as the legendary ‘Blitz Kids’. As fabulously demonstrated by Ballroom culture elsewhere, the Blitz Kids
treated the club as the ultimate stage on which they could exhibit their art- modelling their handmade,
one-off garment pieces, but also show these artworks ‘in action’. By contrast to the stale, regimented nature of your
standard catwalk, clubs allowed their guests’ imagination to run free in all kinds of directions. Instead of being simply
hung as a dead corpse on models’ bodies, the outlandish costumes coming out of the direct symbiosis with club
experience had a purpose and a life of their own. They were worn as an extension of the individual’s identity liberated
by the space itself. The radical fashions strutted by the Blitz Kids adhered to no category in particular. They were
neither punk, nor glam, neither masculine, nor feminine. Instead, they exclaimed resistance against conformity, but
also a roaring desire to create something new, to be artists on their own terms.

DREAMS COME TRUE: THE
TRANSCENDENCE FROM THE
IMMATERIAL TO THE MATERIAL

Under the guiding strobe lights and elevated by the electrifying sound waves, these workingclass, bohemian ‘freaks’
were reunited with their higher sense of consciousness. As cliche as it sounds, they found themselves. Clothes
became that crucial instrument through which the self (in all of its multifaceted-ness) could be presented loud and
clear to the rest of the world. “Once found, dressing your inner creature and letting it swirl freely on the dance floor is
a revolutionary act,” muses my interviewee, later on in our conversation. Why revolutionary? Because it goes against
the Neo-liberal ideal of a unified, straight-laced self.

Queerness, fetish and theatrics coloured the insides of clubland as much as they did the blood of its agents. Bodies
were adorned by a kaleidoscopic arrangement of patterns, glitter, metallics, leather, velvet, lace and synthetics: from
neon accessories atop deconstructed ball gowns to logo T-shirts worn underneath military jackets. The eye-popping
clash of textures reflected the multireferential style of music- bouncing from one reference to another in a surreal
combination of old and new, ‘high-class’ and ‘low-class’, hard and sensitive. In actual fact, the starman himself, David
Bowie, was so struck by the glimmer of originality coming out of the Blitz that he personally went there to cast a few
lucky regulars, to be eventually part of his ‘Ashes to Ashes’ video. People dressed up to play the stars of their real life
movie, directed collectively on a mesmerising nightlife set, and soundtracked by a cosmic score. The influential mark
left by ‘The Blitz’ era of free-style, anti-elitist process of making/consuming art lives on, both in the underground rave,
as well as in the work of fashion designers like Charles Jeffrey, for example. Jeffrey’s LOVERBOY label actually
began as a club night series, partly to fund his masters degree in fashion at CSM, partly to develop his artistic
practice, by inviting exchange between creators of all stripes and between mediums- music, theatre, painting,
photography, etc. A means of trialling his designs in a socially-engaged and supportive context. Giving an interview
about his latest collection, Jeffrey noted: “[Nightlife] completely transformed my way of thinking, how I looked, how I
approach things like makeup… It shaped who I am now.” A lot of Jeffrey’s style DNA is reminiscent of the ‘peacock
punks’*, whose spirit is summoned back by extremely bold, multi-coloured prints, inventive knitwear, a reformulation
of classics, and surreal accessories. Like the Blitz Kids, Jeffrey’s models embody a strange world, one defined by
playfulness, drama, and a lot of clash.

THE EVASION OF THE
TIME-SPACE CONTINUUM

Speaking of clash, it was one of the key aspects that also came out of my conversation with Georgio/@the_curly_monster - as a
vehicle for composition-both in music and fashion. Touching upon the terms ‘sampling and mixing’, which are borrowed by designers
from the music lexicon, he told me “We collect and then we assemble. With the clash, you just create way more interesting results.This
is the case with both music and fashion.” If music has been a source of inspiration for expanding the fashion vocabulary, so can be
said of the range of garments itself. Words are converted into physical representations. As the art of mixing electronic music has
disrupted the linear manner in which time is understood, a corresponding change in the way people interpret clothes has also
occurred. The planet would thank us. Whereas historically it has always been fairly easy to identify the temporal setting of any
photograph by simply looking at the way people dressed, that wouldn’t be the case anymore. This fixity has been majorly shaken in
recent times through the proliferation of raves and underground parties, fuelled by the sound of electronically sampled beats, which
often build a bridge across genres and historical eras. “We are very lucky in 2021 that we have entire music, art and fashion archives
at our disposal. just a few clicks away... It's overwhelming how much was done and how much there is to inject and learn from.” A
picture of any contemporary rave (worth noting) would reveal a mosaic of varying styles of dress, from New Romantic to apocalyptic
chic to urban utilitarian, all wildly meshed together as a visual parallel to the multi-layered, fragmented vibrations percolating through
the speakers. Like the music played in such ‘temporary autonomous zones’, the garments worn by the party/icipants span over
decades, as well as the whole spectrum of gender, sexual orientation and ‘social ‘tribes’. The planet would thank us. And what is good
for the planet, is also good for society.

It seems that the fluidity and dissent for rules that techno music* generates has invisibly, yet somehow tangibly seeped into the ravers’
pores and from there, out into their sartorial self-presentation. To echo Georgio’s candid words,

“It’s beautiful to see gender and identity being challenged and
to see the rise in freedom of expression as well as each other's

support to be the best version of ourselves.”

BY: ISABELA PALANCEAN





HOME

COMING
BY: ESMÉ TUNG
EDITED BY ELENA BARREAU AND HANNA PHAM

Leaving the confines of our bedrooms, living rooms and kitchens to finally return to studios is something the dance
community at large has been waiting for since the first few weeks of lockdown. It's hard to imagine how long we would

be dancing, creating, learning and teaching while having to watch out for table corners, shelves, or pets wandering
through, and so what this moment means for London's dance community is far bigger than simply being able to sit

indoors for a meal. From the dancers themselves, to teachers, working professionals, and studio managers, the
reopening of London’s studios is a momentous occasion to celebrate for all.

BASE studios, one of London's largest open dance spaces, summed up what this
long-awaited reopening means for the dance community and the arts more widely,

which have "taken a huge hit during the COVID-19 pandemic and have
had to wait a long time to be able to function even close to capacity.
Because of this I think it means even more to us — we are
passionate, hardworking and creative by default, and
being able to provide a space for so many people to
express themselves again is a huge honour.” Where
entertainment and the arts have provided so much
solace for so many over the course of lockdown,
these same industries are the ones who have
had to wait the longest to return. Resilience is
a necessary quality in dancers, and it has
only been further exemplified by the
community's unceasing efforts to continue
dancing even in the darkest, loneliest of
times.

Despite some weariness about the risks of
returning to unmasked environments, the
excitement at finally being able to come

home to studios is palpable. This
excitement was communicated by
university students within the dance

community. While we all as students
have been kept busy with our
studies, coursework and
assessments, the removal of
in-person dance classes from
our lives has not been easily

forgotten. These weekly moments
of freedom from university work
provided an outlet for expression
and undeniably helped many of us
cope emotionally, allowing the
movement of our bodies to nurture
our mental health. We've all tried
hard to make the best out of online
dance classes, to "really think in
your head about dancing - the
musicality, lines, textures - by using
imagery", as Nevin (22, BSc
Psychology) put it, to better ourselves
as dancers despite the circumstance.

“The forced isolation on one side of the screen allowed us to reconsider
stylistic choices and explore new ways of moving without the weight of others
watching, judging eyes. In its own way, it provided a freedom that you could
never achieve in an in-person class. Looking back, the silver lining we
celebrate is in our versatility and resilience as dancers to keep learning and
improving, and carrying forward the lessons from virtual classes back to the
studio. It is finally time to return home.”

Much like what we faced with pre-recorded lectures and online seminars, teaching and learning dance virtually was a whole new
experience. In talking to Siofra (21, BA International Development) we noted how much more attentive you needed to be, constantly
focused on the screen lest you miss a section of the choreography. It pulls us away from the emotional and mental freedom most of us
experience in taking a class, in being able to soak up the energy and musicality of the room. There just seemed to be a disconnect

through the screen that returning to studio dancing so graciously provides us.
This sentiment is echoed by those who teach within the dance community. As a teacher at The Hub Studios, Samara (28, professional
dancer) expressed her love for “watching dancers up close and personal. As a lot of my students know, I tend to walk around the room a
lot when I am teaching just to feel everyone's energy. It is this infectious positive energy of being in a room full of moving humans that I
missed most.” It seems nearly impossible to describe the rush of energy felt at the studio floor vibrating beneath our feet, experiencing the

notes of a song come to life as it provides the vitality required to inspire our dance.
It seems nearly impossible to describe the rush of energy felt at the studio floor vibrating beneath our feet, experiencing the notes of a
song come to life as it provides the vitality required to inspire our dance. Amongst other things, these sorts of intangible instants are what

differentiate in-person and virtual classes, and are why so many are desperate to step back into the studio space.
Another consensus reached by students and teachers alike was the unparalleled freedom of space that studios provide. The confined
spaces we forced ourselves to move in whilst dancing virtually highlights the qualities of in-studio dancing we took for granted. As “having
the space to share movement that can travel without the worry of hitting furniture is something I never knew I'd miss”, said Samara. This
celebration of space was equally articulated by Nevin as he can’t wait “to dance full out and extend your body however much you want

without fear of hitting a table or bed frame.” As we impatiently anticipate the dance community’s return to in-person dancing, the
celebration of space is clearly central to our homecoming.

Across studio managers, teachers and dancers, there is an inescapable air of excitement in going back to taking physical classes - to be
able to fully appreciate the wonders that the unobstructed, open space in the centre of London facilitates in us, as dancers. The social,

human elements of dance are at the very core of how and why so many choose dance as a medium to share and connect through
movement, where our bodies are able to communicate what our words fail to capture. In prolonged periods of isolation, we still chose to
dance and share our emotions through this special medium. And so, returning to the studio is how we begin to reclaim lost time, how we

are able to share our joys and excitement, suffering and hardships, frustrations and relief. This summer, we celebrate the dance
community’s undying spirit of diligence and dedication to their craft and to each other, and the strengthening of these bonds as we start to

dance together once again.

BASE LOGO - CREDITS TO EMILY
NOKE BASE STUDIOS;

KCL DANCE SOCIETY ADVANCED
JAZZ VIRTUAL REHEARSAL -

CREDITS TO PHOEBE PROCTOR;
CREDITS TO SAMARA TONG;

BASE STUDIOS SPACE - CREDITS
TO EMILY NOKE BASE STUDIOS

STRAND

Welcome back.

STRAND
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