Joep Beving : Hermetism

July 19, 2024 | Posted by Peter Jakobsen | Modern Music, MUSIC, THEATRE, THUMBNAIL REVIEWS |

Her Majesty’s Theatre, Adelaide, 18 July 2024

Writing about music is like dancing about architecture.” That’s how one feels in reviewing Dutch minimalist pianist Joep Beving, who is obviously a very nice guy, but his work is alarmingly redolent of the kind of records Windham Hill put out in the 1980s.

We were told: “Beving’s latest endeavor, Hermetism, released in 2022, marks a return to solo piano, inspired by the ancient spiritual philosophy of Hermeticism. Through this project, Beving invites listeners into a meditative exploration of music’s ability to reflect the universal laws of nature and the interconnectedness of existence.” Rest assured we’re not being introduced to the St Anthony-kind of hermitism; rather, on a very dimly-lit stage (initially, a weak lamp only was directed at the piano keys) that was intermittently bathed in glaring light (see below), where the pianist, his back to the audience, was at times almost invisible, playing a number of noodling, dark, impressionistic and – dread word – mellow piano pieces, with a very basic structure, a simple tone accompanied by a guide one to form kinds of repetitive chords. The effect was pleasant enough, and represented an interesting departure from the standard piano recital format, but alas, tending to the soporific.

Beving’s latest endeavor, Hermetism, released in 2022, was ‘meditative’ and ‘immersive’, to use rather overworked terms, and smacked of highly competent film scores.  In a recent interview with Edmund Black for In Review*, Beving remarked: “I wanted to go back to an era in which I thought things were looking more optimistic, so that’s kind of how the more romantic, fin-de-siècle vibe got into the album.” We liked “For Mark,” the therapeutic mood of “Pax,” and “Sleeping Lotus,” this last dedicated to his daughter, which came alive in the use of highly percussive notes.

Hermetism was pleasant but The Varnished Culture prefers Martha Argerich, Vladimir Horowitz, Artur Rubinstein or Sergey Rachmaninov, playing less ‘wandering’ pieces, thanks.

Light installations by Boris Acket

[*] Continue Reading →

Henry ‘Chips’ Channon Diaries Volume 1

(1918 – 1938) (Edited by Simon Heffer)

In the elusive search for historical truth, contemporary records such as diaries, even unreliable ones, can be valuable. Private diaries in particular, as they can break free of censorship, even self-censorship to a degree. Furthermore, insider diaries can give great insight into the mores of the times. Classic examples include Pepys, Boswell, Francis Kilvert, Anne Frank and Alan Clark.

Henry “Chips” Channon (the nickname came when he roomed at Christ Church College, Oxford with a friend nicknamed “Fish”) was born in 1897 in Chicago, son of a wealthy family; served with the Red Cross and as a attaché in Paris in the Great War; attended Oxford; soaked his parents for money; ‘anglicised,’ and married Honor, a daughter of the extremely wealthy family owning the Guinness company; obtained British citizenship (he despised his native America) and entered Parliament in 1935, serving as an obscure MP, obscure at least as revealed in this volume, until his death in 1958. He was notably undistinguished in his political career, but he seems to have attended every haut monde lunch, dinner, ball, party, soirée, and royal ceremony going. He knew everyone it seemed and tells us just what he thought of them. He was privy to events like the General Strike, the Abdication crisis, and the rise of international tension. The First Volume creates a vague feeling of dread, a time when Britain drank, danced, caroused and flounced about, careless and sans umbrella in the shadow of the gathering storm.

We except his feckless public service when it comes to his involvement in the Foreign Office, dealing with European difficulties in 1938. However, in relation to Continental affairs, he was wrong as he could be, and he was often wrong (we say this in hindsight). Virulently anti-Communist, slavishly attracted to royalty and the high-born, self-obsessed and obsessed with money, status and access to power, snobbishly admiring of “Strongmen” like Franco, Mussolini and You-Know-Who, he was one of Parliament’s enthusiastic advocates of appeasement, writing very waspish and derisive diary notes about anti-appeasers such as Churchill, Eden, Duff Cooper, etc.

Simon Heffer has done a superb job as editor, the exhaustive footnotes almost outdoing the Burke’s Peerage or the Almanach de Gotha, which is even more impressive when one notes there are two equally massive subsequent volumes (1938-1943 and 1943-1957). Expurgated versions came out in 1967 but are child’s play compared to these. And the footnotes are worth traversing while reading the diary entries, or afterwards: the detail is vivid and sometimes startling. Consider this footnote, for example: “Arthur Eric Rowton Gill (1882-1940) began in the Arts and Crafts movement and became a renowned sculptor and designer of typefaces. He adapted to the style of art deco in which he created three of his best-known works: Ariel, one of several sculptures at Broadcasting House; three sculptures depicting different winds, over the London Transport building at 55 Broadway in London; and seahorses at the Midland Hotel, Morecombe. Devoutly religious, he had incestuous relationships with two of his daughters and his sisters, and committed sex acts with his dog.”

Chips, ices, and Tallulah Bankhead (1926)

Here are some excerpts to get an idea of Channon’s style, wit (he was no Oscar Wilde), and (looking through the ‘high-resolution retrospectoscope‘) misjudgments, as well as times when he was ‘spot on’:

I am susceptible to flattery, and male good looks; I hate and am uninterested in all the things men like such as sport, business, statistics, debates, speeches, war and the weather; but I am riveted by lust, bibelots, furniture and glamour, society and jewels.”

He has a collection of some thirty or forty Hogarths as the painter was a protégé of an early Lord Lonsdale. Unfortunately, our host showed us one of ‘Lord Byron’, we did not know where to look.”

The more I know of American civilisation, the more I realise how I despise it – and what a positive menace it is to the peace and future of the world – if it triumphs, the old civilisation that loved beauty and cruelty and lust and peace and the arts and rank and privileges – will pass from the picture. And we will have Fords, cinemas – ugh!! Give me Leninism in preference.”

The government has chosen the ‘easiest way’ and at the eleventh hour decided to subsidise the mining industry…But is it wise to drop palliatives to the proletariat, who go on clamouring for more? – always more?

(George VI): “He is completely uninteresting, undistinguished and a godawful bore!

A full, exhausting day. We had a luncheon party here, and the plot was to do a ‘politesse’ to Mrs. Simpson. She is a jolly, plain, intelligent, quiet, unpretentious and unprepossessing little woman, but as I wrote to Paul of Yugoslavia today, she has already the air of a personage who walks into a room as though she almost expected to be curtsied to. At least, she wouldn’t be too surprised. She has complete power over the Prince of Wales, who is trying to launch her socially.”

Personally I think that they will be back in England in two years’ time living comfortably at the Fort or elsewhere.”

(George Moore): “He tells me over 200 women have written to him begging for rendezvous (mostly Americans). His dodge was always to answer and demand a photograph in the nude. This got rid of all but the most zealous, who complied.”

I hate society at the moment: it is too fanatically anti-Hitler”.

The morning was calm, the PM enchanting. I am in and out of his room constantly now. Early on, there were messages announcing mysterious movements of troops in Bavaria with the usual denials from Berlin. Then there was a grand luncheon party at 10 Downing Street at which, the Chamberlains entertained the Ribbentrops, the Halifaxes, Winston Churchills, etc. By then the news had reached the FO that the Germans had invaded Austria, and from 5 to 7 p.m. reports poured in. I was in Halifax’s room at 7.30 when the telephone rang ‘The Germans are in Vienna’, and five minutes later ‘The skies are black with Nazi planes’. We stood breathless in the Secretary of State’s room, wondering what would happen next. All night messages flowed in; by midnight Austria was a German province.”

Halifax [Honor’s uncle] and Chamberlain are very great men who dwarf their colleagues; they are the greatest Englishmen alive, certainly; aside from them it is a mediocre crew; but I subscribe, I am afraid, to the totalitarian view that England is on the decline. We shall dwindle for a generation or so; we are a tired race and our genius, I believe, is dead. We produce nothing new whereas Germany and Italy are seething with vigour and life; we have only choruses of cranks! Democracy is absurd.

Militarism is dead in Germany: instead there is a cult for physical perfection and nakedness – there are even naked clubs. Physical exercise and homosexuality are the great modern German movements: both have taken on the proportions of a crusade.” (Berlin, 1928)

The dreadful day has dawned coldly, and my limbs are numb and chilled. The telephone began early, Diana (and let me in parenthesis say that Duff Cooper has behaved shabbily. He was intimate with the King, he even flirted, or tried to, with Wallis, and she was eager to be with them at the Fort, at dinner parties, aboard the Nahlin and elsewhere, and now he is a Roundhead and calls Wallis to my face ‘a tenth-rate ugly old strumpet.’)

I had a row with that smelly, slimy Duchess of Atholl, who looks like an under-stuffed crocodile and has the manners of a downtrodden governess.”

Ministers threaten to resign, but never do.”

My new servant Morhan is an Irish ass, honest, sound…but a fool. Today he didn’t know where the Ritz was.”

An unbelievable day in which two things occurred: I fell in love with the Prime Minister [Chamberlain], and Hitler took Vienna.”

Continue Reading →

Barbarian (2022)

July 13, 2024 | Posted by Lesley Jakobsen | Drama Film, FILM, THUMBNAIL REVIEWS |

(Director – not to be mentioned.  He is not to be encouraged.) [Zach Cregger directed, his first, possibly last, effort, although the film made good money apparently – Facts matter- ED.]

“Barbarian” is not rateable on the “Babadook Scale“.  It’s not that sort of horror movie.  It’s the sort on which even fewer pesky script meetings are wasted. You can determine whether you have seen this film by casting yourself in the lead role and answering the following questions.

  1. You are a young woman who arrives in the rainy dead of night to find that your B & B is already occupied by a male stranger.  Your locked bedroom door mysteriously opens and you find the young man in the grip of night terrors. In the morning you see that the street would scare Jeffrey Dahmer.  After your appointment in the city do you :-

(a) Get the Hell out of there, or

(b) Go into the cellar of the B and B to get some toilet paper?

2.  In the cellar you find a hidden room containing only a stained mattress, a bucket and a camera on a tripod.  Do you:-

(a) Get the Hell out of there, or

(b) Grab a torch and go down another set of slimy wet steps into the darkness and then into to a further hidden room?

3.  You’ve escaped from the underground cages and the hideous, murderous monster.  Do you:-

(a) Get the Hell out of there, or

(b) Go back down alone and unarmed to attempt to save another captive?

If you answered ‘b” to all of the above then you have seen this film before, although it may not have been called “Barbarian”.  Here are some bonus questions, in case you are still uncertain.  These are easier yet, because with films as bad as  “Barbarian” as our point of reference, the answer is always “yes”.

Does the Magic Negro get beaten to death with his own severed arm?

Does the cellar door lock itself behind you?

Are there false deaths?

Are we left without an explanation about the double booking?

Was there an inexplicable interlude which leads to suspicion that two films were accidentally spliced together?

Is an unpleasant person who drives a fancy car punished?

Do the police refuse to believe the hysterical black woman?

Is the film as revolting, misogynistic, ridiculous and boring as “Bone Tomahawk” but without any redeeming features (such as Kurt Russell).?

The director cannot be forgiven.  The actors can because they do passably, given that they were knitting barbed wire with overcooked spaghetti.  They possibly deserve second chances. “Barbarian” however, does not..

“Don’t explain the ending. And don’t believe reviews on ‘Rotten Tomatoes'”

Continue Reading →

Rhonda Burchmore – Tall Tales

June 13, 2024 | Posted by Peter Jakobsen | MUSIC, THEATRE, THUMBNAIL REVIEWS |

Adelaide Festival Theatre, 12 June 2024

The most famous pair of legs since Betty Grable, Rhonda Burchmore took to the Cabaret Festival stage in a show that gave a full house souvenirs, stories, selfies and songs from her 42 year career (details linked in Wikipedia below), in an amusing reverie touching upon gigs and hotels from hell, celebrities with peccadillos, almost-but-not-quite meeting Michael Jackson, the idiosyncratic Betty Buckley and her vicious Macaw, and more.

Covering a wide range of songs from ONJ, Melissa Manchester, Eartha Kitt, Bette Midler, Michael Jackson, Amy Winehouse, etc., (song list below), Rhonda’s voice can still belt them out; her stories (ranging from vibrant to, frankly, wan) were engaging enough, a slice of tap-dancing and some by-play with her excellent 3-piece band, made for a charming evening. Rhonda strives to please and be liked, and she succeeds.

Song list:

Back to Black

Come in from the Rain

Love You Inside Out

My Discarded Men

Out of My Life

Pretty Legs and Great Big Knockers

Screw Loose

Slow Boat to China

They Just Keep Moving the Line

The World Still Turns


Continue Reading →


June 8, 2024 | Posted by Guest Reviewer | FILM, THUMBNAIL REVIEWS |

Dir.  Luca Guadagnino (2024)

Our fabulous Guest Reviewer, Rita, gives us her thoughts on “Challengers”.  Thank you, Rita, we didn’t get to see it, all we know about it is that there’s a lot of tennis, so we thank you for your input.  NB We know Rita well and she is anything but shallow! See also Rita’s equally pithy review of “Fremont“.

The three main characters are awful people in my view but my mind became addled and distracted by the overwhelming physical gorgeousness of Tashi (played effectively by Zendaya).  Thus, I have exposed my shallow nature, but I would be interested to hear what people think of this film other than that it is too long.

[Ed: Tennis films are problematic – e.g. the egregious “Players” (1979). Here at least there seems to be a love triangle, which suggests American Doubles. The Spectator reviewer ‘quite’ liked it.]

Continue Reading →


June 8, 2024 | Posted by Guest Reviewer | FILM, THUMBNAIL REVIEWS |

Directed by Babak Jalali (2023)

Our insightful Guest Reviewer, Rita, gives us her thoughts on “Fremont”.   Rita exhorted us to see it and we are really sorry that we missed it, because Rita knows what is what.  So thank you Rita.  Please send us more reviews of the weird and the wonderful.  See also Rita’s equally succinct review of “Challengers“.

I am really interested in your critique(s) on this film. I was gripped by this strange but engaging little gem.  Loved the odd beauty of the following.  She said, “I brought you a deer.”  He replied, “I wanted a deer.”  Endearing and funny.

[For post-war trauma, I’d plump for The Deerhunter personally, but still, this looks like a Jim Jarmusch-type, intimate jewel – Ed.] Continue Reading →

The Woman in Black

May 26, 2024 | Posted by Peter Jakobsen | THEATRE, THUMBNAIL REVIEWS |

Adelaide Festival Theatre, Dunstan Playhouse, 24 May 2024

The Woman in Black is an adaptation of Susan Hill’s 1983 Gothic novel, by Stephen Mallatratt, concerning a mysterious spectre that haunts Eel Marsh House in a small, remote English town. It’s a hoary old piece, and a tad clunky, but the novel, film and TV versions, and the play, have been consistently popular – only The Mousetrap (another mediocre piece) has had a longer run on the West End.

Once more, with feeling

There’s some post-modern, story-about-a-story business, as Arthur Kipps (John Waters), a self-effacing and strangely diminished solicitor, tries to enliven his story for an actor (Daniel MacPherson) he has retained to tell it. So as fast as you can say ‘flashbacks,’ there we are, young solicitor travels to an old dark house to wind-up the estate of dowager Mrs. Alice Drablow. Shades of Jonathan Harker’s trip to the Carpathian Mountains.

Whilst the lawyer is sifting through papers, we are treated to a bunch of “effects without causes”* – the usual smorgasbord of haunted house tropes; slamming doors, screams, flashes of light and flashes of darkness, the sound of a horse and trap and fleeting appearances by a mysterious woman in black – we eventually learn about a single mother, a child, his fate and her revenge, and revenge’s lengthening shadow.

Every plot point creaks and croaks as from under a wheel; the gothic touches spill untidily as straw from a broken doll, but it survives as pleasant entertainment due to the accomplished playing of two accomplished actors, Waters and MacPherson. The woman in black does dramatic entrances and exits, although she was not disposed to answer the curtain call. This is a nice and uncerebral night’s entertainment, that could do with some tightening of the script, and perhaps be enhanced by some more pyrotechnics when it heads to its national run.

[*”Effects without causes.” Thus Wagner, commenting on an opera by Meyerbeer.] Continue Reading →

Stephen K. Amos

May 26, 2024 | Posted by Peter Jakobsen | THEATRE, THUMBNAIL REVIEWS |

Oxymoron“, Arkaba Hotel Top Room, 23 May 2024

The Arkaba Top Room is perfect for stand-up comedy – sit where you like, and there’s a handy bar. TVC chose a high table where we could enjoy the contents of a bottle of wine, settle in, and enjoy the querulous but funny Stephen K. Amos.

Before the Show

With his show, Oxymoron, Amos is not revealing all new material, but who cares. His basic niceness allows him to get away with audience interactions – a young man named “Marcus” was awarded the unfortunate epithet “Mucus.” A lady in the front row regretted wolfing her potato crisps. Otherwise, we got a hefty serve of sneers about ‘Adelaaaaaayde’ and some experiences from his recent African sojourn in ‘I’m a Celebrity – Get Me Out of Here,’ which we have not seen but understand that, along arguably with the chap from ‘Malcolm in the Middle,’ Amos was the only celebrity.

We can’t remember any jokes, of course. You had to be there. That’s what is best, and bravest, in stand-up comedy.

“What’s with the carpet?”

Continue Reading →

Angels in America

By Tony Kushner; University of Adelaide Theatre Guild; directed by Hayley Horton – Part 1 (‘The Millennium Approaches’) 2 May 2024; Part 2 (‘Perestroika’) on 3 May 2024

The AIDS epidemic hit New York City the worst (San Francisco came second). It emerged in the early 1980s, primarily in the gay community, and became synonymous therewith, but was in no way actually so localised. Poorly understood initially by medical science, it was first tagged as Kaposi’s Sarcoma (cancerous lesions on skin, lymph nodes, mouth and other organs). Like all plagues, it caused fear, suspicion, mistrust, prejudice and panic. Lives and relationships were destroyed: human love, warmth, and touch became anathema (which has a familiar 2019-2024 ring to it).

Tony Kushner’s monumental play first appeared in the early 1990s, and already by 1994, Harold Bloom (another NY Jewish intellectual) predicted that Angels would become part of the Western literary canon. It is a remarkable but flawed piece of drama, essentially in that Kushner makes an heroic attempt to synthesize Reagan’s America through the prism of diverse and often mythological characters; its length, tendentious Brechtian declamations on ontology, and dizzying scene changes, require a blood transfusion at conclusion (pardon the pun); and it so relentlessly (but necessarily) focuses on death that it recalls Webster’s The White Devil. Also, it has more coincidences than Lantana, but here that doesn’t grate because of Kushner’s overall design, which as the full title of his play suggests, is to construct a ‘Gay Fantasia on National Themes,’ a rip on American mores during crises, suggesting the 1980s were not “Morning in America”, but the bleak dark murk of deepest night.

‘That bull won’t give you wings…’

Summarising the scenes would take a long time. The play begins with a funeral and gets not much cheerier, Death appearing throughout, in the forms of various angels, ghosts and imaginary friends. However, much of the time, the piece is hilarious, crackling with wit, self-delusion, self-deprecation and commentary on the never-ending fraying of America. It is a theatrical piece that an acting entourage will die for. Kushner’s staging notes say: “The plays [sic] benefit from a pared-down style of presentation, with scenery kept to an evocative and informative minimum…I recommend rapid scene shifts (no blackouts!), employing the cast as well as stagehands in shifting the scene. This must be an actor-driven event…The moments of magic…are to be fully imagined and realized, as wonderful theatrical illusions—which means it’s OK if the wires show, and maybe it’s good that they do...” Here, the director has been faithful to Kushner’s admonition, with the added eerie touch of haze fx. My overall impression was that Part 1 was more effective, the resolution of various scenarios in Part 2 lacking a certain mystery.

“He said, ‘We won’t die secret deaths anymore.’ But I can keep one…’

The key figures are:

Prior Walter, young, sick, lesions showing and bleeding, difficulty walking. Scared and brave, he is magnificently played by Matthew Houston (the cast take on multiple roles);

Louis Ironson – Prior’s guilt-ridden boyfriend. Freaked-out by Prior’s disease, he flees into the arms of another and rationalises his behaviour as either courageous, or the fault of Republicans. (Beautifully played by Lee Cook);

Harper Pitt – The pill-popping Mormon housewife . She’s John on Patmos, falling back on the sharp points of her own resources after a revelation, wrestling and coming to terms with the fact that her stolid but distant husband Joe Pitt, is gay. (Standout work from Casmira Lorien);

Joe Pitt – The token conservative bloviates on ethics and faith, struggles with his sexual identity, and despite the aridity of his soul, pleads for understanding. This is a difficult character and Lindsay Prodea makes him more convincing as the story develops, when his motivations (and more) are revealed in full glory. His mixed-up world-view reminds us that New York last voted for a Republican President in 1984;

Roy Cohn – The weirdest character was in fact real, a loathsome and lethal éminence grise whose private life inverted the public one, including the concealment, bordering on denial, of his AIDS condition, which he insists is liver cancer, to preserve his reputation. His character is well drawn, albeit in grotesque caricature (and inspiringly played by Brant Eustice, showing more of Cohn’s nastiness than Nathan Lane did in the National Theatre production in London), but he feels somewhat helicoptered-in by the playwright – Cohn could fill a whole story on his own. (In mitigation of Cohn’s deserved descent to Hell, I would have had Ethel Rosenberg executed as well).

Hannah Pitt – Joe’s mother. She comes to New York after her son drunkenly comes out of the closet. She arrives to find that Joe has abandoned his wife. Kate Anolak is fine in the role and particularly good as the Rabbi, and the ghost of Ethel Rosenberg.

Belize – A former drag queen, Prior’s ex-boyfriend who remains a staunch friend. He later becomes Roy Cohn’s nurse, and the two have a marvellous fencing-duel of words. It is a vibrant performance by Eric McDowell, the only cast member who doesn’t have to affect an American accent, although the rest of the cast do fine in this regard. And the whole ensemble, in subordinate roles, is terrific.

“Have you no sense of decency?”

For an angel went down at a certain season into the pool, and troubled the water: whosoever then first after the troubling of the water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever disease he had.” [The Gospel According to St. John, 5:4]. The play concludes with Prior’s recounting of the legend of the Pool of Bethesda in Jerusalem, where the sick were healed. It ends this long work on a chord of hope, which, fortunately, has turned-out for a significant majority of HIV-sufferers to be true.

Continue Reading →

The Threepenny Opera

March 11, 2024 | Posted by Peter Jakobsen | CRIME, MUSIC, THEATRE, THUMBNAIL REVIEWS |

(Die Dreigroschenoper) Her Majesty’s Theatre, Adelaide, 10 March 2024

It might not be opera, more cabaret Singspiel, but it was still pretty good. Brecht’s rosy worldview, his ‘Berlinized’ take on John Gay’s balladic Beggar’s Opera, was presented with great élan and sophistication under the direction of TVC’s bête noire, Barrie Kosky, with a subtly simple staging of moving Jungle-Jims, up and over which the cast nimbly climbed and clambered, and a cabaret-style spangly curtain through which heads, and sometimes feet, would peep.

Brecht’s libretto is extremely witty but it isn’t really a Marxist social satire, rather a nihilistic view of society as a sewer in which all crimes and misdemeanours should go unpunished. (It is a grim irony that the Adelaide Festival should host this Weimar-inspired piece, a city experiencing housing shortages, a per capita recession, burgeoning under-employment, political fragmentation and distrust in institutions. Incidentally, a full house included folks displaying their virtuous keffiyehs).

The excellent ensemble (see credits below) started with a bang and kept up a vigourous noise, although really, Kurt Weill’s music is rarely more than pedestrian. Highlights are “Mac the Knife,”  “The Cannon Song,” “Ballad of Sexual Obsession,” “The Ballad of the Insufficiency of Human Behaviour” and the closing numbers, during which, gorgeously, a neon sign blurts from the darkness above a reprieved Macheath, stating “LOVE ME.”

The Berliner cast have a splendid time, spitting and swearing and vomiting and stabbing and declaiming. In terms of bono vox, we thought Julia Berger, as the prostitute Jenny, the best. Gabriel Schneider was charismatic and kinetic as the sociopath Macheath; Cynthia Micas as his betrothed, Polly Peachum, was fine; and Tilo Nest and Constanze Becker as Mr. and Mrs. Peachum, stylishly attired, were terrific. Kathrin Wehlisch as police chief ‘Tiger’ Brown was a buffoon, a slightly-less-nasty Pozzo.

“don’t laugh when we’re taken to the gallows”

Conductor, Piano, Harmonium Adam Benzwi

Alto Saxophone, Clarinet, Flute, Piccolo James Scannell

Soprano Saxophone, Tenor Saxophone, Baritone Saxophone Doris Decker

Trumpet Nathan Plante

Trombone, Double Bass Otwin Zipp

Drums Sebastian Trimolt

Guitar, Banjo Ralf Templin

Continue Reading →

© Copyright 2014 The Varnished Culture All Rights Reserved. TVC Disclaimer. Site by KWD&D.