Jogyakarta is a Strange Vortex

Let's blame the sultan, because Jogya is a special zone of shared power between a arts-sympathetic sultan and the Indonesian government.� Staring with coincidences: Banzai put me in touch with Maya, I went to Maya's house on arrival. It turns out Nova's dad's ex-wife is Maya's roomate Raquel's sister, making one of my hosts Nova's ex-aunt. Another of the housemates is Piero, who is part of the Cyclowns Circus and rode his tall bike to Indonesia from europe, traveling with Rafe & Christine with whom I shared an apartment in Berlin last June. The other resident is Tim, an australian who knows just about every australian I know. One of their other guests went to grade school in New Orleans with Subzero Permafrost. Below is a little video interview with Piero, because his story is borders on the impossible.
Interview with Piero from Grey Filastine on Vimeo. December 21st was winter solstice, something they've never heard of here straddling the equator, but still have significance for me. I played at the ten-year anniversary party of Taring Padi, a radical art collective that occupied a massive complex in central Jogya. They've since moved to a compound outside the city and their ex-squat is now a national museum. The party was held in a pavilion outside the museum. Most people arrived in a bicycle parade. Heaps of tall bikes, choppers, and costumes. Sumu and Nova played, then me, with Nova guesting on Autology, which is adapted from a famous old song everybody knows here. Things got mad, lot's of screaming, people rushing the stage, including one person who jumped up and grabbed my table to headbang over my equipment for a full ten minutes. After the music everyone stuck around laughing and getting tanked on cheap fortified wine. Definitely in my list of top gigs ever. No doubt�I'll be back. � some pics i took during these days unrelated to the stories above: