Author results: Oslo Davis

Pho Tam

27th Nov 08
Venue: Restaurant
Meal: All day

One-upmanship is rife amongst diners: 'Oh yeah?! You want the BEST pad thai? I KNOW the BEST in MELBOURNE, BY FAR! You don't.' I could never complete: for the first half of this year I liberally imparted my knowledge of a secret place called St Jerome's: 'They practically didn't want me to know it's there.

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The GO Show

22nd Sep 08
Ambience: Indoor
Difficulty: Exertion will pay off

In 1984 in Tasmania me and Philip Hawley went on a Uniting Church Mystery Bus Tour. We were both 12 and, on that infamous Murray's coach, the only humans under 65. The tour was shit: after stopping off at a vets and the bone-numbingly boring Ulverstone Maritime Museum we ended up at a yarn market.

MIAF this year has a bus tour too, called The GO Show, and, like my emotionally abusive tour of '84, it promises much: ‘The GO Show is a bus tour(.

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A Place Tells A Story

12th Sep 08
Format: Book
Motivation: Improves creativity by osmosis

Like you, I also danced with joy down Swanston Street when we got UNESCO City of Literature status. (I was the one with the cape made from copies of The Monthly.) I danced because I LOVE literature, but I partied because I love SELF-PUBLISHING! Everyone I know in Melbourne self-publishes! Really.

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'Surrender' at Lamington Drive

20th Aug 08

For some reason when I first heard the name of The Jacky Winter Group's new gallery, Lamington Drive, I thought of that regal driveway in Eyes Wide Shut that leads Tom Cruise to that mansion where they have all those orgies. But of course ‘drive', when it's put with the word lamington, means fundraiser.

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Absence

12th May 08

(Think friendly Japanese expat bower bird bookmaker, stuffed in a capsule hotel.)

People-person Hiromi Tango has holed herself up into that little space no larger than a late model Ford Festiva at Platform (where the old guy with second-hand books lived and died) and is living out her art project Absence.

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Rooftops

8th Jan 08

The step up from comic zinester to graphic novelist is so treacherous that many fear for their livelihoods. And, let’s face it, who’s going to waste potential Inspector Rex-watching time by frigging about trying get trillions of drawings shaded just right, the details of which only the politest members of your extended family will fake an interest in? Not me, that’s for sure.

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