Posts Tagged ‘bikers’

Willie and his comrades. Andrew Sweeney, Girl, Lonely, Willie and friends shooting the movie “Without a uniform.” Volgograd, 1988. From the archive of Villi.

With anti-establishment act Pussy Riot now performing from a cage, it’s interesting to see how their own antics have carried on one particular Soviet tradition. And despite Putin’s best attempts to muscle in on the music scene – witness his moving rendition of Blueberry Hill – the KGB crooner might have his work cut out for him.

Since its underground rumblings in the 1980s, Russia’s punk subculture has had a fair bit of practice in bringing it to the people. The Soviet Union’s first punk band, Civil Defence – or Гражданская Оборона – or GrOb (ГрОб, Coffin) for short – had to duck and weave both censors and KGB. And they still found time to release illegal recordings; apparently known as “Bones” – homemade bootlegs often made from discarded medical x-rays.

In the 1970s and 1980s a growing surge of blackmarket fashion and underground music – openly challenging the Soviet-grey old-guard – delivered a dawning sense of freedom. By the mid-80s a tide of avant-garde artists, punks, rockers and psycho billies were roaming the streets, often meeting with spontaneous public performances – and the occasional police crackdown. Fashion shows could easily devolve into raucous rock gigs; catwalks and gigs colliding in places as diverse as Sergey Kuryokhin’s Popular Mechanics Group, the Sovincenter Hall, squats, concert halls and busy city streets.

As the Russian subculture site Kompost declares: “The subcultural people, who established their own market of attributes, had already formed their ideas about the standards of appearance”.

Soviet punk, 1980 – the beginning of the aesthetic war between “Soviet couture” and black market fashion.

‘Mrachnyĭ’ makeup. A common trend of the 80s. Leningrad, 1985 From the archive of Tania Gangrene.

‘Robot’ with ‘Nightingale’. ‘Nightingale’ was the Russian name given to the breed of Leningrad drinker who would stay up all night drinking and singing. 1983. Photo by Alexander Boyko, from the archive of Ruslan Ziggelya.

‘Buster and Dill’ just before the storming of the Nigerian Embassy, Moscow, 1987. Photo from the archives of Yaroslav Maeva Misha Bastera.

Sasha Surgeon, Moscow, 1989. Photo by Petra Gall.

Igor Gans at the entrance to the hall, “Tyazheloĭ athletics” in Izmaĭlovo, performances 1987. From the archive of Dima Sabbath.

Doing the twist – or tvistuny. Subculture, Leningrad, 1984. Photos from the archives of Tanya Aleksandrovoy.

 

Russian Mod with tapedeck, Chelyabinsk, 1985. From the archive of Gosha Shaposhnikov.

“Teddy Boys”. Beer on the Fontanka, Leningrad. In 1984. Photo by Alexander Boyko, from the archive of Ruslan Ziggelya.

Two rockabillys from St. Petersburg, members of the band Swindlers, 1989.

Psycho Billys, 1986, Leningrad – now St. Petersburg.

Moscow, 1980s. The new wave of fashion not drafted by State; includes flares, leopardskins, 50s quiffs and denim.

The new generation of street punk, Moscow, 1992.

Quasi-Western Rambo style. A punk and a ‘Ljuber’ in a photo studio in Moscow, 1988. The so-called Ljuberi were a youth group from the Moscow district satellite Lyubertsy

Punk performer Buster Misha, 1988 – around the time the Govt sent him to work in a dairy for violating some Soviet rules. Misha Buster was just 13 when he dipped into the scene. He took his name from Buster Keaton.

Every subculture needs a motorcycle gang. Russia’s ‘Night Wolves’, 1990 Moscow.

Rebels at the Kremlin. Russian rocker Andrei Melkijy, Dima Sabbath and Sasha Lebed Sabbath demonstrate the dress code in 1987, Red Square.

Moscow’s ‘street punks’, 1988. Soviet uniformity being subverted – courtesy of black market retailers.

Three Russian metalheads scare an old lady. Misha Buster commented: “fear and laughter – that was our trademark.”

A photo of aimless rage, vandalism, and the urge to destroy everything they get their hands on. 1990′s somewhere, Russia.

“The music and lyrics of punk rock provoke among the young fits of aimless rage, vandalism, and the urge to destroy everything they get their hands on. No matter how carefully they try to clean it up, it will remain the most reactionary offspring of the bourgeoisie mass culture.” (Pravda, official newspaper and mouthpiece of the USSR)

On May 9th 1991, 24-year-old poet and singer Yana Stanislavovna Dyagileva (Яна Станиславовна Дягилева,) known as Yanka (Янка) left her Novosibirsk country home, never to be seen again. Yanka was Russia’s own Patti Smith, her delivery thoughtful and message sharp. On May 17th her body was found in the Inya River. Her death officially remains a mystery – although there was apparently no water in her lungs and a fractured skull. The fact that she was married to the singer from Yegor Letov may not have helped. Her record sales have grown since her death.

J.M.K.E. was one band whose name made it beyond the Iron Curtain. Civil Defence also survived into the post-communist years, releasing a number of albums and gathering a large following. Unfortunately lead singer Yegor Letov (Его́р Ле́тов) reportedly died in his sleep two years ago.

Yanka (Янка), Russia’s Patti Smith.

My sources are a bit unclear on this one, but I believe it is a photo of Yanka being escorted to an old fashioned correctional gig. Anyone know for sure?

Andrew Kisanov, Gustav Guryanov and Viktor Tsoi in the music video “We saw the night.” Leningrad, 1986. Photo by Harry Assy

Old and new, Moscow 1980s.

State prosecutors yesterday demanded three years each for the Pussy Riot members in a corrective labour facility, after their public anti-Putin performance protest in Moscow’s Cathedral of Christ the Saviour. They each received two years – on charges of hooliganism motivated by religious hatred. In response to that, it’s worth reading Tolokonnikova’s closing statement before her sentencing (and there’s nothing wrong with Socrates):

“Socrates was accused of corrupting youth through his philosophical discourses and of not recognizing the gods of Athens. Socrates had a connection to a divine inner voice. What did that matter, however, when he had angered the city with his critical, dialectical and unprejudiced thinking? Socrates was sentenced to death and, refusing to run away, although he was given that option, he drank down a cup of poison in cold blood, hemlock”.

“And I hope everyone remembers what the Jews said to Jesus: “We’re stoning you not for any good work, but for blasphemy.” And finally it would be well worth remembering this description of Christ: “He is possessed of a demon and out of his mind.”

Pussy Riot Images via English Russia.

“We were looking for authentic genuineness and simplicity and we found them in our punk performances” (closing court statements, Nadezhda Tolokonnikova, Pussy Riot, 8 August 2012)

The motley collection of videos below include:

1.  Civil Defence’s ‘I Don’t Believe in Anarchy’,

2. “Yanka” Dyagileva

3. Viktor Tsoi “Change” that concluded the 2011 protest anti-Putin Twitter/Youtube protest.

4.  J.M.K.E

5. Propeller – Punker.

‘Stone’ 1974. The Grave Diggers, lead and directed by The Undertaker (Sandy Harbutt) – gun in hand.


By Geoff Stanton

When Sandy Harbutt’s biker classic Stone rumbled through cinemas in 1974 few would have thought the trail would still be smoking in 2011.  But Stone’s five-gallon metamorphose of counter-culture, violence and motorcycles remains as pioneering as ever. Since 1974 Stone has galvanized a worldwide fan base, spawned motorcycle clubs such as The Vietnam Veterans (who now proudly wear the actual Grave Diggers crest across their backs) and horrified the critics.

But the world has turned since 1974. When I spoke to writer and film maker Richard Cartwright in 2010, he could attest to this. He was in fact preparing to ‘take the trip’ again and begin shooting a reworking of the iconic Aussie flick – in 3D and with a new generation of bikers.  “I am actually using the word recreation or reinvention,” he enthused. “I think some pieces of art you just don’t touch. And I think I will refer to Mr Quentin Tarantino’s line, which is that ‘Stone is just too good to remake’. This will be more of a homage”.

Dr Death (Vincent Gil) and friends relax over beer and speedballs.

Harbutt’s 1974 Stone – about an undercover cop thrown into a bikie group while trailing unsolved murders – transcends its obligatory plot to capture a vital pulse. It champions a lifestyle, a creed that challenges the establishment, charts its own moral ground, finds freedom in volatility. It is possibly satanic, definitely violent, and has a great rock n roll soundtrack. In other words, the original Stone remains as relevant as ever.

Developing the material for the 21st century was itself proving to be challenging. “The bike clubs of 1974 are not quite what they are today,” conceded Cartwright. “So there’s an element of looking at the biker legacy. I’ll also be bringing back into the script some of the original characters from 1974. The Undertaker will be reprised, as well as a couple of the other characters from the original gang. They will be older versions. They will ride into town and say ‘Hey, what the hell’s going on here?’”.


Cartwright’s approach was not so different from Harbutt’s vision. Which is fortunate, as Stone’s creator remains unwaveringly loyal to his inspirations. “You have to have a dynamic subject to make a movie in Australia that anybody is going to go and see,” Harbutt told me. “I was a motorcyclist, I’d been riding my Triumph around for a while and I had a real interest in those types of people – and the Vietnam War was on. I thought the ideal outlaw motorcycle gang would be a group of returned Vietnam veterans who had every reason to reject the current corrupt society.

“There was a lot of reason to be angry. In fact, when I was raising the money for the film I actually had to lie – until I got the money they were called The Grave Robbers rather than the Grave Diggers. Simply because it was just so controversial. And the people who had the money were the Establishment”.

Payday for the Grave Diggers

Since wrangling his film into existence Harbutt has himself kept a low profile. But the myths surrounding Stone – which confounded critics by becoming one of Australia’s most successful film ventures – have thrived. Witness Stone‘s legendary budget of beer and dope. Or the violent brawl scene outside the pub, featuring brigades of enlisted bikers who pummeled, jackknifed and beat cast members out of pulpy character and into unscripted reality. Before being paid in beer and dope.

Not entirely so says Harbutt, bringing it back down to earth.

“These stories just get a little out of hand really” he tells me, discussing the brawl scene. “What we did was invited people to come, and they came. They all took part – not including the Hell’s Angels, who didn’t take part in any of the fighting. I’m too smart for that… The fight was completely choreographed by Peter Armstrong, and the non professional guys… well, part of Peter’s skill was that he could stage huge fights like that and people would think it was for real. Peter was such a great stunt choreographer, as well as being the best stunt man in the world. But yeah, so that was completely choreographed. The only thing that wasn’t choreographed was the arrival of the Black Hawks, when the guy falls off the bike and onto his face. And then after that, basically what we did was told the guys that over the next hill was a pub called The Dry Dock and we had free beer.”

“So basically we paid for the bar, and everyone went over there and got drunk and went home. We didn’t actually say if they came we’d pay them in beer. Even though some of them were drinking while it was going on we certainly didn’t want people to be drunk while they were doing what they were doing. It was just guys having a bit of a drink on a Saturday afternoon. The whole cast and crew were always paid professionally. But then, once we invited people to come for the funeral scene – 400 turned up. All we paid was their dole. The other thing was, as for paying the Hells Angels in dope – they didn’t actually smoke dope in those days. That came along a bit later.”

Dr Death (Vincent Gil) and friend with chilum.

Amanda (Helen Morse) with spliff.

Stoned. The Undertaker (Sandy Harbutt) with Stone (Ken Shorter) and... friend.

It is no secret that Tarantino is a big fan of Stone. Cartwright and the inimitable QT shared their enthusiasm at Cannes, where Cartwright was lucky enough to gain an audience with the director.  “I met with Tarantino and his exact words to me were: “Sandy Harbutt – that guy is a visionary!”. Cartwright meanwhile gave Tarantino an original 35mm print from Harbutt’s own collection.  “Tarantino’s face was like a five year old kid in a candy store! The film was in an authentic 1974 can, slightly rusted, with Goulburn Theatre and Darwin Cinema stamps all over it”. The possibility remains open that Tarantino may play a role in proceedings, although Cartwright admitted at the time that he was not precious about the capacity in which Tarantino would be involved.

Most importantly, however, Harbutt had given the project his blessing. “One thing I will say is that Sandy has not imposed his point of view at any given time. He has made some wonderful and helpful suggestions. Sandy has said to me ‘Richard, I’ve made my film – now go and make your film”. And I think that was a wonderful thing to say. And I couldn’t be more humble. It is now my goal to do justice to Sandy’s great piece of iconic Australian cinema”.