T H E W Y T C H E S | S I M O N W E B S T E R H A I R | PH I L K Y LE

I S S U E N o 2

Ideas. Do they come to us? If so, where from? Do they even belong to us when mined for deeper meaning as art?

T H E E A R L Y L I V E S O F O U R I D E A S

Words: Thomas Armstrong | Illustration: Ryan Gillett

Like many people with burgeoning ideas, I am unaware of where they will lead me. It is often a journey we embark on with no clear destination but we set off regardless as surely the road has to end somewhere.

If I sat down to write a piece of music, then worked in a different room or did it tomorrow, it could take a completely different form. It is this fragility of ide-as and their susceptibility to a person’s ever-changing mindset that both scares and excites me.

When you combine this notion of ideas with your own ‘style’ it can be a formi-dable process. Nonetheless, the urge to bring an idea into fruition, into some-thing tangible, will prevail in those most determined and vocal.

Some people use a desk, or a studio, a place where they psychologically come to work. Personally, my band’s productivity increased considerably when we stopped living/rehearsing/writing under one roof. Some people have to be high or drunk or downright depressed to work.

On occasions after a break-up I’ve heard them say ‘at least I’ll get some good songs out of it.’ Although pain and anguish can be beautiful things to tackle as David Lynch once said, “they can be a poison to the painter, a poison to the artist, a poison to creativity.”

Lynch himself uses a method called Transcendental Meditation to bolster his creativity.

In his book ‘Catching the Big Fish’, he proposes an answer to the notion of where ideas come from. The title comes from an analogy in which he compares getting an idea to catching a fish from the “stream of pure consciousness”, also known as ‘Qi (Chi)’, ‘Life Energy’ or Star Wars inspired ‘Force’. In modern science it is known as the Unified Field.

Lynch says that, regularly practicing this meditative technique allows you to become more attuned to the ebb and flow of this river, to be able to pull ideas out of the ether and know when to use them. After musing over this technique and its creative advantages I simply think inhibition recedes and intuition grows. You let ideas flow freely and know when to utilise them. Knowing when an idea could work is key.

As American cartoonist and author Scott Adams once said: “Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing when to keep them.” This notion of inspiration as an exter-nal or divine source is an intriguing one and admittedly, de-stabilises the role of the author or artist as ultimate creator.

Similarly, this role is challenged by those who use the theory of intertex-tuality, to claim that the true creator

is the observer, who perceives the art in light of its context and searches be-tween the lines for deeper meaning.

The premise of our ideas coming from elsewhere has historical longevity. The Ancient Greeks believed that the ideas of great creative minds were brought to them by assigned spirits called ‘dae-mons’. The Romans called the same spirits your ‘genius’.

The Ancient Greeks also recognised the internal importance of art. So-crates, who believed he had his own daemon, said “the aim of art is to rep-resent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance.” Divine inspiration or not, artists seek to comment on or observe their inter-nal worlds, to get ideas out into the open via their preferred expressional medium, for others to interpret.

So how do you find your own ‘voice’ through which to communicate these ideas? Do we actively search for it? Must it be truly pioneering and new? The in-escapable intertextual nature of media, culture and art seems to make the afore-mentioned practically impossible.

Why try to be different if there are no set rules? Are there rules? Do we inadvertently create experts by al-lowing them to push the invis-ible boundaries of sustained conventions? I think that something very important

in identifying and developing your own style is to soak up the influence of the art that you gravitate towards.

My theory is that when we like some-thing we subconsciously see a reflec-tion of some aspect of our own creative character in it. If a piece of art truly resonates with you, maybe it is in your underlying connections to particular idiosyncrasies within it. If we were to extract these modes of expression which reflect our own creative voice, then conceivably we could identify the nuances of our own artistic personality.

But how can we identify something so abstract in something that is, naturally, so subjective and interpretive? I’m not wholly sure we can in any definitive sense. However, if you spent time delv-ing into and trying out the styles of your favourite artists, whatever the medium; you would pick up that small piece of yourself from each of them and be a step closer to producing work in a style that is your own voice.

I have posed plenty of questions for which I have offered few solutions. Asking questions and the pursuit of an-swers can sometimes be more valuable to us than finding the answers them-selves. The process of questioning raises more questions and in turn can culti-vate more answers. Think about the early lives of our ideas, after all, once they’re out there, they’re out there.

Creative DirectorTimothy Hampson

timothy@boon-magazine.co.uk

Chief EditorJames Halling

james@boon-magazine.co.uk

Contributing Creative DirectorAntony Day

antony@boon-magazine.co.uk

Deputy Editors Joe Walker & Matthew Watson

Directors of PhotographySteve Brown & Nima Elm

steve@boon-magazine.co.uk

Contributing EditorChloé Harwood

PhotographyLaura Brown, Grace Langley & Steve Glashier

laura@boon-magazine.co.uk

WritersThomas Armstrong, Robbie Canale

& Sara Harman-Clarke

Contributors & a special thank you toHeidi Ashley, Symon Back, Max Backshell, Daryl Bennett, Abby Butcher,

Martin Currie, Richard Daniell, Kirstie Daniell, Julian Deane, Jason Edwards, Elliott Caranci-Finch, Marilyn Hampson, Thomas Jarrett, Phil Kyle,

Sally Oakenfold, Bridget Pettifer, Izzy Bee Phillips, Luke Porter, Anne Rieger, Matt Walker, Simon & Sophie Webster, Bella Williams, Luke Wyeth, Ziggy

If you would like to contribute further, please contactinfo@boon-magazine.co.uk

MUSIC30 -41

FASHION08 -17

ART18 -23

LIFESTYLE24 -28

LIFESTYLE42-47

FASHION60 - 65

ART48 -53

ART54 -59

8

B O O N

T H E S E D A Y S

Words: Robbie Canale | Photography: Nima Elm | Styling: Bella Williams Hair Stylist: Lisa Sandström | Make Up Artist: Johanna Seiborg | Models: Astrid and Nike

“We were up on the rooftop of Bella’s apartment and I was taking some photos of her housemate when this old woman in a flat opposite opens her window and starts screaming in Swedish that she’s going to call the police.” Brighton based Photographer Nima Elm is telling me this, pint in hand and a child like grin spread across his face. His dark eyes flit and dart with excitement as he continues: “Bella sort of understood

what she was saying so we had to get off the roof. I was surprised how strict everything was over there.”

The Bella in question is the talented Brighton born stylist Bella Williams. Bella found herself in Sweden on something of a whim and before she knew it she

was working for local fashion magazine Radar. The ‘over there’ is Stockholm, the epicentre of Scandinavian chic and a place where these two Brighton natives

recently collaborated on an exclusive shoot for BOON.

T H E S E D A Y S

9

10

T H E S E D A Y S

11

T H E S E D A Y S

“I have only been in Stockholm since March” Bella tells me, a slight air of trepidation attached to her softly spo-ken words. She says it’s a refreshing change from London – where she was working at a magazine and assisting stylists – but she’s still getting used to the nuances of her new home.

“It’s less hectic and it’s very cool. I love Scandinavian design and style but it is still surreal waking up here every day. I am already scared about the Swedish winters though, it’s freez-ing cold and dark and supposedly no one ever goes out, so I might come back after the summer.”

“Everything in Stockholm is so regimented,” Bella continues, “they don’t socialise as much as we do and young Swedes don’t drink and go out like we do in the U.K. You can only buy alcohol from desig-nated stores and smoking is really frowned upon.”

With Nima having never travelled to Sweden and Bella still adjusting to her new environs, it gave the pair free reign and a chance to let their com-bined creative juices flow.

“The idea for the BOON shoot was really to have as much fun as possible” says Nima, “I just wanted to go around the streets of Stockholm taking tons of photos of a couple of pretty girls.

There was no set idea in place, Bella and I are pretty useless at being organised but we work on the same wavelength and have the same ideas so we knew it would be fine.”

While Nima is talking rapidly, Bella sits and takes it all in, almost laugh-ing to herself as she recalls the shoot: “It was all a bit rushed, I was in Stockholm’s Beyond Retro trying on clothes I thought would work on the models while Nima dashed off to find some locations. Luckily he came back and said he’d found a great basketball court and with the clothes I picked it just seemed to work perfectly.”

“The natural light in Sweden was amazing,” Nima recalls, “it was so good to be able to shoot in that bril-liant sunshine, it made the shoot so much fun and obviously the clothes and the models, it all just worked so well.”

He may only be twenty five but Nima is very much part of the old guard when it comes to photography.

“I very rarely shoot on digital; I much prefer the aesthetic of film. Digi-tal gives you a lot more freedom but I don’t think photography should be so disposable, it shouldn’t be that hit and miss. Some people shoot 2,000 photos to get four or five good images and it shouldn’t be like that.

12

T H E S E D A Y S

13

T H E S E D A Y S

Nothing ever beats the excitement of having all those images wrapped up in a tiny cylinder and not know-ing how it will all turn out when it’s processed. I love my little walk into Kemptown after getting my photos developed, looking at all my contact sheets as I walk down the street. It’s literally like Christmas every time.”

Although Nima and Bella both call Brighton their home, ironically they didn’t actually know of one another while they both lived in the city:

“I was only told about Bella’s work by a friend a couple of months ago,” says Nima taking up the story: “I took a look at what she was doing, really liked it and sent her an e-mail say-ing if she ever wanted to collaborate I’d love to do so. We inadvertently ended up doing a shoot in London, Bella showed me the magazine she works for in Sweden and we went from there.”

They may have only known each other for a mere matter of months, arrived in an alien city with a blank canvas of ideas and been threat-ened by an old Swedish woman, but one thing is very obvious, the tal-ent pouring from these two young Brightonians should be shouted from the highest rooftop.

T H E S E D A Y S

14

T H E S E D A Y S

15

T H E S E D A Y S

16

17

T H E S E D A Y S

18

B O O N

Words: James Ha l l ing | I l lust rat ion: Ryan Gi l let tw w w.r yang i l let t .com

Originally from Oxford, Illustrator Ryan Gillett moved to Brighton around three years ago. Since then Ryan has been able to draw on the city’s creative climate and has found plenty of ideas for his illustrations. “There’s always

something going on here,” he explains, “I find the city good inspiration for my drawings.”

Ryan studied Illustration at Southampton Solent University. He studied under Johnny Hannah and describes his former tutor as “a huge inspiration.”

All of Ryan’s work is hand drawn and he mainly works with stencils and pencil-crayons. He says that he wants to draw “ happy, colourful things.”

Ryan recently joined the Paris based Tiphaine Illustration Agency and has had his work used in The Sunday Times and T3 magazine. “If I can live off

drawing for the rest of my life then that would be great.”

RY

AN

GIL

LE

TT

19

R Y A N G I L L E T T

- Wayback Machine

- Title

R Y A N G I L L E T T

- Moving House

20

- Pretty Sweet

R Y A N G I L L E T T

21

- Maui Smith

R Y A N G I L L E T T

22

R Y A N G I L L E T T

- AA Gill

23

A M A R K O F Y O U R L I F E

Words: Robbie Canale | Photography : Steve Brown

Around thirteen years ago, I remember my younger, and certainly far more rebellious teenage sister, coming home early one evening to our parents house with what appeared

to be a tattoo of a barcode on the inside of her left wrist. I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing but there it was, the fresh blue ink ingrained in the shallows of her pale

white skin for eternity. I was so appalled with what, at the time, I felt was an idiotic act of rebellion – she claimed it was because she felt like a product of society, although

the product in question turned out to be a pack of Tesco value tomatoes – I didn’t talk to her for a week.

Fast forward to 2013 and much of my left arm is covered in tattoos of various shapes and sizes that fifteen years ago I would never have dreamed of getting permanently embedded on my body. I often ask myself why I do it? What the buzz is? Am I merely part of the frivolous zeitgeist that do first and think second? Am I now the product of society in a world where everybody wants everything now now now? In order to find out I caught up with tattooist Phil Kyle owner of Brighton’s Magnum Opus, one of the

most respected tattoo studios in town.

24

B O O N

A M A R K O F Y O U R L I F E

25

A M A R K O F Y O U R L I F E

26

There is no escaping the fact that tat-toos have become very much a part of mainstream culture. For anyone under the age of thirty the tattoo seems to have become the fashion du jour. It’s almost like a new pair of Nike trainers or that new Mulberry handbag you’ve always wanted, except unlike the soles of trainers or the seams of a handbag, a tattoo is with you until the day you die.

Everywhere you look in the mass media you will see the rich and the famous resplendent in an array of body art that shall be with them forever. But for every wannabe pop-star or foot-baller, there’s a Phil Kyle.

Kyle has been tattooing people across the world for twenty-one years and is as enthusiastic about the art of ink as he ever has been. He is covered in tattoos of all shapes and sizes dating back to a time when the general pub-lic viewed tattoos as a symbol of men who’d either joined the military or spent a good proportion of their lives at the behest of Her Majesty in some ill-gotten prison cell.

“I spent most of my youth growing up in Baltimore on the East Coast of the States,” he informs me in a voice that while deep and gravelly is almost soothing to listen to. “There was a mil-itary base not far from where we lived and our neighbours were this Eng-lish family with two kids around my

age. I remember their dad worked for the military and he had these snakes and dagger tattoos. I was only 6 or 7 and had never seen anything like that before, I just remember thinking they were pretty cool.”

It may be some years since that first encounter with tattoos but the exuber-ant manner in which Kyle recalls the story is that of a man about to go under the needle for the very first time. He is clearly a man who believes in the art of tattooing not just for a generation of flippant youthful angst but as an art form dating back to the beginnings of time itself: “Personally I haven’t really seen this evolution in tattoos because I have spent most of my life tattooing and being tattooed and so they have always just been there.”

“I think a lot of people don’t realise tattooing is the oldest of all art forms. People maybe don’t know enough about the history of tattooing, how electric tattooing started in the 1860s and was brought back to England from guys on the ships travelling to islands across the globe.”

Kyle is on a roll and I find myself engrossed in this history lesson. As he speaks I find myself wondering what his first tattoo was: “I had my first tattoo when I was 15, it was a growl-ing wolf ’s head. I’m still into that whole thing today, that pack mentality.

A M A R K O F Y O U R L I F E

27

I was very involved in the punk rock scene, going to see bands like GBH and Black Flag really inspired me and that was when I started getting heavily tattooed. I’ve never stopped since.”

After being tattooed the natural pro-gression was for Kyle to start tattooing as a profession: “I got my apprentice-ship in a place called Main Street Tat-toos in Maryland. I served my years there before moving on to Atlanta and then becoming a guest tattooist, trav-elling all over the Mid-West. It was all about going it alone, it was a whole different world back then but the tat-too community is still pretty small to this day. It was exciting just getting in the car and driving state to state, doing a week here and there, learning new things in each place.”

Life on the road suited Kyle’s spon-taneous nature and after some time working for a studio in Cincinnati he arrived in France and set about trav-elling Europe before finding himself in Brighton: “I was working in Nice and travelling to conventions across Europe. I came to Brighton after a tat-too convention in Portsmouth in 2000. We had to check out of our hotel early in the morning but our flight wasn’t until 10 that night so one of the guys said ‘let’s go to Brighton.’ We were here for maybe an hour drinking down at The White Rabbit on a beautiful day, and I looked at these guys I was

with and said ‘one day I am going to open a tattoo shop here.’”

True to his word, Kyle opened the doors to Magnum Opus in November 2007 and while he says it has been an “emotional roller coaster,” Brighton is very much his adopted home: “Bright-on is a hub for many artistic outlets, not just tattoos. There are a lot of musicians here who get tattooed, lots of people studying art and illustration who love tattoos and there’s a very open mind set to the people who find themselves here. The people of Bright-on feel they can express themselves through their art.”

“If you look around Brighton, there are so many good tattoo studios in the town. More than ever people are doing custom tattooing and everyone has their own style. I’ll tattoo people who will come to me for certain tattoos and then go to another studio for various other tattoos. I know a lot of the other guys and girls from other shops and we all hang out, quite a few of the shops have a communal hang out and I think we all learn from one another.”

In a world of superficial fads, Phil Kyle is the real deal. This is a man who stands up for the art of the tattoo, for its core beliefs and the use of ink to forge your own identity. “A tattoo isn’t something you get to show off, it’s a personal symbol, a mark of your life.”

A M A R K O F Y O U R L I F E

28

B O O N

29

Sprung from the depths, The Wytches have emerged as Brighton’s darkest new thing. BOON followed the band – drummer Gianni, bass-player Dan and lead-singer Kristian – as they embarked on their first full tour earlier this summer. We witnessed the life of a band from

Brighton who are making waves nationally and receiving major media attention.

We were also given the opportunity to scratch at the mind of the enigmatic Kristian and understand more about the artistic vision that drives this band forward. We met him on a gloomy

afternoon and chatted as he drank black coffee and chain smoked roll-up cigarettes.

The Wytches were conceived in Peterborough but ultimately born in Brighton. As restless young musicians they quickly found the town of their conception dull and uninspiring.

“Peterborough is quite backwards in terms of culture,” Kristian explains. “I’m just bitter about my hometown, everyone’s like hamsters in a cage, fucking each other all the time,” he says,

peering with sad eyes through his draped thick black hair.

Kristian and Gianni flew The Wytches south seeking the best environment in which to gestate their band. In Brighton they both enrolled at BIMM and enticed by a poster pinned in the

common room that declared, ‘The Witches Bass Player Needed’ and scrawled across it the repeated mantra ‘Surf Lounge Dark Grunge,’ Dan joined.

L I K E A P E N D U L U M

Words: James Halling | Photography: Laura Brown, Steve Glashier & Grace Langley

B O O N

30

L I K E A P E N D U L U M

31

L I K E A P E N D U L U M

In Brighton, Kristian found his feet as a writer in a city which he describes as “claustrophobic.” With a relatively small population there is a density of arts and culture disproportionate to its modest size. “My writing became better as I had more to talk about, there are so many different types of people here.”

The Wytches lyrics are full of characters and observations which Kristian places on a grand, almost cinematic scale.

He explains the arresting refrain of ‘Crying Clown’ which describes a ‘grave yard girl swinging her bag like a pendulum.’ “I was waiting for an exam and I saw some really nice goth girl walking swinging her tote bag. That’s where that came from. There are people I’ve spoken about in songs who I can’t hang out with anymore.”

When Kristian first arrived in Bright-on, to save money he was sleeping on sofas and therefore constantly mov-ing around.

He believes that this state of flux developed him as a writer, testimony to Brian Eno’s adage that ‘habit is the real enemy of art.’ “There was no repetition in my surroundings,” Kristian explains, “I was just moving and sleeping…If you write something in the same place there’s only one atmosphere, one mood.”

The Wytches’ lyrics are a kind of social-commentary but filtered through Kristian’s prismatic imagination.

This kaleidoscopic vision of reality the band present seems to be a reac-tion to certain genres of music and the emphasis placed on accurately depicting the normal and the everyday. “With Indie music, before this psyche-delic thing blew up again, there wasn’t really anywhere else you could go with it.”

The malevolent and psychedelic web The Wytches spin is a world in which to lose yourself, not see yourself. Most art is about recognition of some facet of your own life, but here it is presented through an unfamiliar aes-thetic language.

“There is boredom in our culture,” Kristian elaborates, “taking things and making them seem grand is what I am about. It comes from spending a lot of time doing nothing.”

The band recently recorded AA side single ‘Beehive Queen’ at Liam Watson’s famous analogue studios Toe Rag, the same studios where Jack and Meg White recorded ‘Ele-phant’ in 2003.

However, the constant comparison the band gets to The White Stripes and music journalism in general is begin-

32

3333

L I K E A P E N D U L U M

ning to get Kristian down. “I don’t get journalism,” he confesses, “why does music need comparison? It’s like… ‘Bono had a baby with Satan, it’s The Wytches!’ I’ve made a conscious effort not to read anything about myself any-more, if I feel like I know too much about what people like then I worry I might start to tailor myself.” As well as featuring prominently in the national press the band have been bombarded with requests from PR and advertising companies.

Gianni describes how the same fash-ion label that did a recent catwalk shoot with Birmingham band Swim Deep, asked The Wytches to do something similar:

“They wanted to do a naked Polar-oid photo shoot with us to fig-ure out what we were going to wear. We said no, 100% no.” Kris-tian elaborates. “It’s very glamorous and I don’t think there’s an ounce of glamour in our music at all.” “When things come along it’s easy just to say ‘yeah we’ll take everything you can give us’” Dan adds, “It is difficult to say no.”

However, the band are realistic about the current attention they are receiv-ing. “We don’t want to get our hopes up,” Kristian states, “if suddenly the new thing is, I don’t know, clogs and

tap dancing music, we’re fucked.” “It’s good that it’s there because people will listen to us and we can show everyone what we’ve always wanted to show them, it’s a good platform.” Dan says. “Yeah,” Gianni adds, “hopefully people will come and see us play because of it.”

The tour with Peak-District punks Drenge took the band the length and breadth of the country. “I quit Univer-sity to go on tour,” Kristian explains, “all of my exams clashed so I packed it in… I wasn’t going to do anything with it anyway.”

First up was The Hope in Brighton. This presented the band with their first headline show in Brighton and was also the day of their single launch. Kristian described it as their “peak day. Like a wedding day or something.” “It’s a celebration,” Dan added.

Before the band took to the stage the venue was packed, the room so hot with the breath of anticipation that the walls dripped with sweaty condensation.

The band are building a reputation for the intensity with which they per-form. Kristian pushes the limits of his physicality so far you seriously wonder if at some point his vocal chords will rupture.

For Kristian, this intensity and anger stems from a sense of dissatisfaction.

L I K E A P E N D U L U M

34

“When everything is a bit blurry and unclear you get annoyed by it.” This confusion manifests itself in the almost hypnotic way this band present them-selves “If you’re blasé your mind just wonders and that’s what we’re going for, we’re putting you under.”

As the band take to the stage Kristian performs an almost mime-like disem-bowelling routine by pulling and pick-ing at his guitar strings, grasping at his metaphysical intestines and tearing every piece of screeching sound from his instrument as he waits for the set to begin.

The Wytches present an immersive performance art which does not pause for moments of ‘reality’ as they thunder through their opening songs, aban-doning clichéd chat with the audience.

Speaking to us before the gig Kristian admitted he can’t detach himself from the intensity with which they perform. “We never ‘put on a show’. Sometimes I feel a bit embarrassed being all screamy all night, so we’ll pick out songs that are more delicate.”

The Wytches live shows are about revealing themselves rather than per-forming. “Once we are more estab-lished I want to be more schizophrenic with our shows, I want it to be like ‘are they going to do their heavy thing or their laid back thing?’”

As their set continues you are drawn in by Kristian’s lyrics. Despite the power and aggression you are enticed by the stories, the characters and the deli-cate word play. Like watching a poet, the audience hang on every word and enjoy the use of language as well as the sound of the band.

Kristian cites Leonard Cohen as one of his favourite artists and his influ-ence is clear. “It’s about where specific words take you,” Kristian explains, “I want my lyrics to create a mood.”

As the climax of the set approaches, a circular mosh-pit is formed and Kristian simultaneously screams “the mice weren’t heavy enough to break the ice” from ‘Burn Out The Bruise’. It’s as if The Wytches, led by The Pied Piper Kristian, have conjured a magic circle which they are pulling you in to.

Speaking to us after the show Kristian said, “it was fun to play to people who are in to it as much as we are, we felt like we were in Nirvana or something.”

This show felt as if it was the culmi-nation of their efforts up until this point, as if they’d reached the peak of what this city’s vibrant but limited scene could offer. It felt as if it was the moment when the band, using the springboard Brighton has given them, transcended the local.

L I K E A P E N D U L U M

35

We caught up with the band at Joiners in Southampton to see how the tour had been so far.

We sat in the yard next to the bins and spoke with the constantly caffeinated Kristian. Dressed in black and masked by hair and Ray Bans, as if synchro-nised with the overcast gloom of a British summers day.

“When you’re touring, conversations are quite productive,” he reveals, “you spend a lot of time talking about the band. We’ve mainly been talking about what we’re going to do next.”

We discussed with the band the release of ‘Beehive Queen’. The single has been regularly played on BBC 6 Music and has become a flag-ship rep-resentation of The Wytches for fans to gravitate around.

“When people are starting to hear the riff they go ‘yeaaah’” Gianni describes. “When we played in Liverpool recently all these kids were chanting it along, der der derder der.” “Proper lad chants like we’d just written a Soccer AM anthem.”

Unused to the attention the band admit they feel uncomfortable when asked to sign their records. “Our names don’t mean much to anyone yet,” Kristian confesses, “we just feel like we’re ruining the artwork.”

“We still don’t think anyone actu-ally comes to see us.” Dan adds with a self-deprecating tone.

On the Birmingham leg of the tour, the morning after the show, the band dis-covered their gear had been stolen from the van overnight. Kristian’s first guitar and the guitar on which he wrote all of The Wytches songs had been taken, along with Dan’s bass and a projector.

When we met the band the atmos-phere was tense and charged with an undercurrent of emotional insecurity. “I’ve had all the stages of loss,” Kristian said, “one of them was I got hysterical and started laughing.”

However, the relentless demands of touring meant that the band had to hit the road again, to play in Camden that night. “It’s not about the equip-ment, it’s just about having one to use, it’s just a tool to do what we do,” Kristian adds with an admirable tone of acceptance and resolve. “The tour has been an emotional roller coaster, we’ve had a year’s worth of bad luck, I can’t deny it’s just been a horrible time for us.”

When BOON arrived in the famous Camden Barfly the pre-gig atmos-phere was anxious. The band and man-agement were still trying to locate the stolen gear and were clearly upset by the events of that morning.

L I K E A P E N D U L U M

38

The gig was sold out and packed with record labels, journalists and bloggers.

“In London I feel like some kid at a dinner party whose parents get him to play piano for their friends, ‘go on, show them what you were showing me the other day.’” Kristian joked, mask-ing his grief with humour. “That’s kind of like our manager with industry.” “I just like skanking drinks off them all,” Gianni adds, “I see how many drinks I can get in a night for free.”

When the band took to the stage there was an element of uncertainty as to how the previous events would affect the show.

They were unfamiliar with their replacement instruments and perhaps preoccupied by the day’s events. “We knew we had to play well, we knew we were angry,” Kristian explained. “We felt like if we fuck up these shows there’d be no point, we’d kill ourselves or something.”

However, Kristian harnessed his pal-pable passive aggression and fuelled by the preceding events, unleashed it on his virginal guitar.

Each strain of fury and frustration was cathartically cleansed by the explosion of noise and motion that preceded the triumphant close of their set. “We know that we play better when we’re

wound up. It was a great show, closure, was it not?” Kristian told us after the show. “We’ve played in London tons of times, but this time we had fans, people who knew about what we’re doing. It makes me want to release more, and put out more stuff for peo-ple to listen to.”

Kristian has an assured and creative intelligence which drives him and the band forward.

When we speak his mind races at a pace, constantly wanting to discuss the future, what’s coming. “I’ve got a vision and I want to stick to it without too much swaying,” he explains. “I have an obsession with being better than I was. If I feel like I’m repeating myself then I get down about it.”

“What have you got planned next?” We ask him casually. “I’d rather not say, everyone’s looking,” he beams back through a wide and uneasy smile that masks his nervous and excit-ed knowingness.

He knows, that’s all that matters. It’s something from the depths, something better less revealed.

L I K E A P E N D U L U M

39

4 0

L I K E A P E N D U L U M

4 0

THE WYTCHESJOINERS, SOUTHAMPTON

L I K E A P E N D U L U M

41

B O O N

In the heart of Brighton’s North Laine lies Simon Webster Hair’s atelier salon. Opened in April 2012 by husband and wife Simon & Sophie Webster, Simon Webster Hair has emerged at the forefront

of Brighton’s modern and progressive stylist scene.

Local Brightonian Simon has plied his trade in the city for nearly 30 years. Starting off as a Saturday boy in a local Hove salon, Simon

soon became a stylist for L’Oreal, representing the company at national and international shows and fashions shoots. After meeting wife Sophie, a graduate of Chelsea Art School who previously managed

an international design studio, the couple opened Simon Webster Hair.

42

The 5* rated salon is built around its team’s shared interests in art, design and music. SWH Team is a collective of some of the area’s best

hairstylists whose creative but professional approach makes for a salon experience unlike any other. The passionate and creative team pride

themselves on building strong relationships with their clients through their professional consultation and in-chair education.

Flowing over four floors, the salon’s interior design is a bold and alternative take on a classic and elegant design. The salon has a contemporary

feel but with a clear nod to a vintage eclecticism. The period building is spacious yet intimate and houses cutting and colouring studios, as well

as a faffing room for clients to reapply make-up and play with their styling. The salon also has a private styling area for weddings, group bookings

and wig cuttings.

S I M O N W E B S T E R H A I R

4 3

S I M O N W E B S T E R H A I R

4 4

S I M O N W E B S T E R H A I R

4 5

S I M O N W E B S T E R H A I R

46

SIMON & SOPHIE WEBSTERGARDNER STREET

S I M O N W E B S T E R H A I R

47

Words: Timothy Hampson w w w.boon-magazine.co.uk /a r t

This summer over 500 final year students exhibited their work at the annual University of Brighton Faculty of Arts Graduate Show. BOON went along

and picked four outstanding artists to feature.

Using oil painting Milo Hartnoll explores his fascination with distortion and degradation.

Janne Iivonen’s source of inspiration is observing the people around him: more specifically their gestures, expressions and attire.

‘Reimagined’, a project by Jamie Eke, deals with personal childhood drawings of worlds and scenarios reinterpreted through his adult eyes.

With a sense of wonder and fun, Lauren Alderslade’s anthropomorphic paintings look at how we manipulate the nature and behaviour of animals.

TH

E G

RA

DU

AT

E S

HO

WB O O N

48

M I L O H A R T N O L L

- Aleko Datamosh

49

- Nick Cave

- Living The Good Life

J A N N E I I V O N E N

50

J A M I E E K E

- Elk

- Elk Reimagined

52

L A U R E N A L D E R S L A D E

- Untitled

53

ON

TH

E W

AL

L

Words: Sara Harman-Clarke | Photography : Steve Brown

Hiding behind the shop fronts of Brighton’s North Laine, a vibrant spectacle is waiting to be discovered: Brighton’s biggest and best pieces of street art.

These wonderful artworks are full of talent and vitality and say something significant about the city they reside in, they are original, fun, poignant and

political. I regularly cycle through these streets on my bike, and am often struck by how vital this street art is. It brightens the city, attracting reams of tourists,

photographing and appreciating the quality of art on display. This unique street art has become an integral part of Brighton and its cultural identity.

Wanting to find out more about the artists behind the work, I visited a place called Art Schism. From painting green exchange boxes with young offenders

to commissioned murals and graphics from Brighton Festival and other organisations, you can find work from these artists proudly on display around

almost every corner.

B O O N

54

O N T H E W A L L

55

Art Schism is a collective of twenty art-ists who come together under one roof. You will find them, if not in person, then, their art at least, in a little shop nestled on the corner of Gloucester Road.

Their funky ‘Art Schism’ signage scrolls across the top of a modest but intrigu-ing looking shop front. Their paned windows full of strange one-eyed mon-sters, collections of pictures and other crafty pieces. Step inside and you will find yourself in a shop-cum-gallery space; the plain white walls are hung with pictures both big and small in a wide variety of styles, from cartoon inspired graphics to oil paintings and intricate wooden carvings.

With bespoke hand-made furniture, t-shirts and a rack of prints to flip through in the middle of the room, Art Schism possesses all manner of art, craftsmanship and fascinating pieces, each unique and straight from the artist themselves. But the shop itself is mere-ly the beginning.

I arrange to meet one of the founding ‘Schismers’ outside The Prince Albert pub on Trafalgar Street. A new and impressive mural is going up on the side of the pub and I’m hopeful to see some work in progress. As I approach the site there are a couple of men up on scaffolding rendering the façade of the building and not spraying anything creative or artistic as I expected.

Just then my rendezvous pulls up and launches into an explanation of why he is not up there painting: “There’s no point if it all just crumbles away in a couple of months,” he tells me, to which I wholeheartedly agree.

Although, I begin to think to myself, do I actually agree with this sentiment? I then ponder the transient nature of street art. On the wall below their mural, a homage to music’s finest, is Banksy’s kissing policemen encased in plastic. This is street art that has been made permanent. How oxymoronic to save a fleeting message in our throw-away society by immortalising it in a Perspex sarcophagus. But I can also see his point; a commissioned mural needs a little permanence at least from time to time.

Art Schism started life in December 2012 as a Christmas pop-up shop. A great success over the festive period, it soon established itself as a permanent fixture. During their first months of trading they received a wealth of support from the local community and fellow artists, something which I feel is palpable within this cultural and creative hotspot of Brighton, particularly in the artistic scene. Being run as a co-operative, the support of the artists involved has made Art Schism what it is today. Standing together as one, each individual artist is as important as the next, thus they respect each other and their individual

O N T H E W A L L

56

works. “It’s about having a hub for artists to display and sell their work in but also to drop by for a chat, some advice, or just a friendly cuppa,” they tell me.

The whole story of Art Schism seems to perfectly fit in with the nature of Brighton. Its organic beginnings and holistic sense of co-operation work well in this city which always seems to maintain a sense of rugged individual-ism and reassuring friendliness.

With healthy weekly sales, Art Schism continues to do well. “You buy direct from the artist, giving everyone a bet-ter deal all round,” they say as I flip through the pictures in the rack, “and as it is artist run, customers have the chance to chat to them too.” It feels wholesome buying art this way, you know where it comes from and you know it is original; each piece in this shop is a one off, stand alone work. A mellow vibe fills this shop, but yet there is also a contrasting hive of activ-ity and inspiration.

To one side of the main space is a knocked through area into an old storage room. Here the metal floor is adorned with a Pollock-esque spray of colours. “We hold individual art-ists shows, exhibitions and workshops in here as well as our Thursday even-ing Schism Social.” Here, everyone is welcome to come and gather around their table to make art. What with this

room and the wall outside where they offer spray-painting workshops, this space is interactive and for everyone to enjoy.

This co-operative supports its com-munity as much as the community supports them and it is clear to see Art Schism stretches so much further across our city than the bounds of its four walls. I ask about the work they do with young offenders. “We work on the green [exchange] boxes, designing and spraying them together. We both sign our names then when they walk past later with their family or friends they can say, ‘I did that!’ and be proud of what they have done. Hopefully, it helps to instil a sense of pride in their community and helps stop re-offending.”

The key difference with Art Schism, or at least with my main point of contact, is that he says he doesn’t class him-self as a graffiti artist, indeed his card reads ‘Artist and Creative Services’. The sense of value and belief in their work this collective hold, that street art and graffiti is as worthy as any other art form can only serve to help Art Schism reach the top of its game for years to come. If they help to change numerous archaic and often negative views about street art along the way, then this can only be for the better of not just this small group of individuals, but also for Brighton as a city.

O N T H E W A L L

57

THE PRINCE ALBERTON THE WALL

O N T H E W A L L

58

ART SCHISMGLOUCESTER ROAD

O N T H E W A L L

59

The model is 12 year old Brightonian Heppni Wilkinson. The images were all shot on 35mm black and white film by Nima Elm.

The idea was to keep the shoot simple and clear and to create a set of portraits rich with feeling which captured Heppni’s unique character and striking

resemblance to a young Kate Moss.

The shoot was on a bitterly cold and windy day in Brighton. Because of the extreme conditions it was shot in five minute bursts between Heppni running

inside to keep warm.

Photography : Nima Elm | Styling: Bella Williams

B O O N

HE

PP

NI

6 0

H E P P N I

- Jumper: Beyond Retro, Brighton

61

H E P P N I

- Jumper: Beyond Retro, Söder | Skirt: Beyond Retro, Brighton | Shoes: H&M

62

63

B O O N

- Jumper & Trousers - Pepe Jeans

H E P P N I

63

- Jumper: Beyond Retro, Söder

H E P P N I

6 4

- Jacket: Beyond Retro, BrightonSkirt: Urban OutfittersShoes: Urban Outfitters

H E P P N I

6 5