an almost independent monthly magazine
All-Star X-Fighters BATTERSEA POWER STATION SET FOR FMX FIREWORKS
Backstage with Kasabian
“We’re like the musical Masters of the Universe”
Pride and passion of the world’s wildest horse race
How Red Bull Air Race wowed the Big Apple
SPORT ACTION PHOTOGRAPHY
PREPARE TO BE ENLIGHTENED PREMIERE OF THE kunde
RED BULL ILLUME 2010 EXHIBITION DUBLIN IRELAND TRINITY COLLEGE AFTER SUNSET SEPTEMBER 212
reach the heights
Cover Photography: Joerg Mitter/Red Bull Photofiles
It can be easy, when looking at static images, to forget the danger many athletes expose themselves to in pursuit of the ultimate sporting high. Flip back a page to this month’s cover, take another look at Levi Sherwood carving the air through Red Square, thrill to the grace, power and athleticism an 18-year-old can achieve with such apparent ease, then consider this: major knee surgery to correct a series of injuries and a sixmonth layoff that threatened to end his participation in a sport he had blasted into with such immediate success. Elsewhere in this magazine, we look at the many disparate elements that have been brought together at Red Bull Racing to make the team so successful over the past couple of seasons in Formula Onethat it’s capable of putting its drivers on the top step of the podium five times by mid season. Then consider this: just two weeks before Mark Webber leapt skyward in celebration of his British GP victory, he had been flying skyward in rather more dramatic fashion at the European GP, following nose-wheel contact with the Lotus of Heikki Kovalainen. For a few seconds after his car had hit the ground and slammed into a tyre barrier, his fate was uncertain. Mercifully, he popped from the cockpit of his broken machine looking groggy, sure, but otherwise untroubled. The trials endured by both these athletes remind that achieving the highest level of success in sporting endeavour never comes easy. Always, there is the grind behind the glamour, whether that’s unscheduled medical procedures, unscheduled track incidents or simply hour after hour of tedious physical repetition, often in less-than-glamorous training facilities: just ask Russian triathlete Alexander Bryukhankov what he thinks of his workaday Czech training camp (we do just that on page 42). But the highs, when they come… Look at the faces of the massed crowds in this month’s reportage from the Palio di Siena horse race. Witness the emotion, feel the passion. For moments like these, almost any price is worth paying.
On our cover this month Levi Sherwood blazes through the skies of Red Square, Moscow, right in front of St Basil’s Basilica. Sherwood took his first win for 15 months in Russia, completing a remarkable comebaack fro injury. Next stop: London’s Battersea Power Station.
Your editorial team
Your Red Bulletin can do more than you think Movies, sounds, animation 10
12 Print 2.0 – the extra dimension in your Red Bulletin. In this issue you’ll find it with the following stories:
The new multi-media experience. Wherever you see the bull’s eye!
How to get started: turn to page 7 or enter en.redbulletin.com/print2.0 in your web browser
the only Shot that giveS you wingS.
Small enough for your pocket, Strong enough for the home Straight. Ah, physical exercise. Getting your limbs and lungs working is the perfect antidote to a stressful day. But sometimes, itâ€™s difficult to keep enough fuel in the tank for the final straight. So why not work out with a friend? The new Red Bull Energy
Shot delivers Red Bull energy in a sip, without carbonation and with no need to chill. It fits snugly into your pocket or gym bag along with your water bottle, and provides the boost you need to not simply go the extra mile, but to fly it.
welcome to the world of Red Bull Inside your fit-to-burst Red Bulletin this month…
10 pictures of the month 18 now and next Where to be and what to see in the worlds of culture and sport 21 where’s your head at? After heading for Hollywood, George Clooney took over a decade to become an overnight success 24 kit bag Eye protection for mountaineers has come a long way since George Mallory tackled Mount Everest 27 me and my body The 2006 MotoGP World Champion Nicky Hayden is no stranger to pain – and he’s got the scars to prove it 28 winning formula When a Formula One car goes flying, all bets are off. We look at the science behind Mark Webber’s spectacular flip at Valencia
30 lucky numbers The longest, most dangerous, fastest and most tortoise-like achievements from across the wide world of sports
34 peter zoller If your eyes glaze over at the mere mention of theoretical physics, don’t worry – this pioneering scientist works with laser beams, too 38 jason wynyard He’s the wood-chopping World Champion and a philosopher with enormous forearms… and a hot-rodded chainsaw 40 bitches with wolves At Oxegen’s Dance Arena, sequined Dubliner Jamie O’Neill, aka Bitches with Wolves, blew the crowds away with his high-energy synth pop. Coming to a club near you soon… 42 alexander bryukhankov Meet the fiercely competitive Russian triathlete who’s aiming for Olympic gold in 2012 06
48 siena’s palio Passion and drama make this Italian horse race a ride you’ll never forget 58 red bull x-fighters Moscow’s Red Square hosts the latest round of the FMX extravaganza 62 kasabian On the back of a sell-out tour, the British rockers headline V Festival this month
66 red bull air race Red Bull’s airborne heroes carve up the New York skyline Photography: STIHL TIMBERSPORTS (1), Philipp Horak (1), Craig Kolesky (1), Getty Images/Red Bull Air race (2), NIEls Ahlmann Olesen (1), Christian Pondella/Red Bull Photofiles (1), Jiri Krenek (1)
72 bmx in africa Two pioneering riders from the Cape Flats and the hardcore scene they helped start
More Body & Mind
80 soccer rookies We invite the captains of three Red Bull soccer academies to Hangar-7 82 get the gear Spanish FMX rider Dany Torres tells us what he can’t ride without 84 coulthard museum David Coulthard’s very personal museum 86 listings Worldwide, day and night, our guide to the ultimate month-long weekend 90 nightlife We sample SÓnar, get jiggy in Jesolo, follow Fukkk Offf around Hamburg and admire Antwerp with dEUS’s frontman 96 short story A video game becomes deadly reality 98 mind’s eye Our columnist’s view
the red Bulletin Print 2.0 Movies, sounds and animation wherever you see this sign in your Red Bulletin 1
en.redbulletin.com/ print2.0 In your browser window you’ll see the magazine cover. Just click at ‘Start Bull’s Eye’
Switch on your webcam If a webcam activation window opens, just click ‘activate’
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illustration: dietmar kainrath
K a i n r at h
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We’ve been getting our rocks off all over the world this month. Just take a look…
u ta h, u sa
rock ’n’ roll Pretty steep, huh? And just imagine how it looks from behind the handlebars… But for a downhill mountain bike pro like Matt Hunter, one of the world’s best at this particular twowheeled activity, it’s just a regular training run (if a blast down the side of a Utah escarpment can ever be described in such banal terms). The main event – the competitive goal of his training – is the Red Bull Rampage, which will be held from October 1-3 in the town of Virgin, Utah. And while this pic looks deceptively like a calm roll through the hills, you can be sure that come race day, Matt Hunter and co will most definitely be rocking. Photographer Sterling Lorence recalls taking the shot: “It had been a cold, nasty, blustery day, but in the evening, the sun appeared for a couple of minutes. What great light! I love Utah…” Get mountain high at www.redbullrampage.com
photography: sterling lorence photography
en.redbulletin.com/print2.0 Discover what it takes to rampage
photography: rutgerpauw.com/Red Bull Photofiles
en.redbulletin.com/print2.0 See the art of Mack McKelton as inspired by Michelangeloâ€™s marble
c a r r a r a , i ta ly
A Rock anD a hard place Not for Mack McKelton the smooth concrete groove of the town centre skate park. No, for this child of Africa, who now lives in Germany, hard rock, preferably unforgiving and shaped to trick, is where itâ€™s at. Early years spent on the board learning to skate in rough urban townscapes trained him well to take on the challenge of Red Bull Access All Areas, an itinerant tour that drops skaters into places never designed to accommodate trucks and four small wheels. Here McKelton, from Berlin, is kick-flipping between two hunks of marble in the quarries of Carrara, Tuscany, Italy. And despite the gnarly nature of the obstacles, he returned home from this particular trip unhurt. Pretty clever. Bloody marbellous, even. Ollie into forbidden territory at www.redbullaccessallareas.com www.mackmckelton.com
photography: visualimpact.ch/Thomas Ulrich
b e r n e s e o b e r l a n d, sw i tz e r l a n d
rock band Mountains. They play with your head. Stare at them too long and they’re certain to make you want to do funny things, like climb up them in extreme weather, take a canoe down them when they’re covered in frozen water or, if you’re a member of the slacklining fraternity, sling a rope between two peaks and walk from A to B. Just because you can. Swiss Stephan Siegrist, pictured here, looks like he’s inching along a rubber band stretched between two rocks (rock band, anyone?), but the reality is somewhat more technical. He’s teetering atop a high-tension slackline (which, despite its name, is actually pretty tight) slung at Birg beneath the Schilthorn in the Bernese Alps. This region is famed as one of the Alps’ most picturesque, but Siegrist had no spare concentration to take in the Eiger-Mönch-Jungfrau tableau. The weather turned nasty, mid-walk, and he had to turn back. Not easy if a slackline is your lifeline. Put your life back into balance at www.slackline.com More spectacular pictures at en.redbulletin.com/slacklinerecord
photography: Francois Portmann/Red Bull Photofiles
Moab, utah, usa
gadd rock Will Gadd is an athlete who thinks nothing of setting the world distance record for paragliding (twice – 263 miles/423km the second time); of climbing icebergs off the east coast of Labrador; of exploring carbondioxide-rich caves in Thailand with an oxygen supply; or of achieving the first one-day ascent of the highest mountain in the Canadian Rockies, Mt Robson, solo. But this robust 41-year-old, brought up in a mountain-mad family, denies he’s a wanton thrill-seeker: “I don’t need to take risks every day,” he says, “but I do need to do something interesting a couple of times a week.” Free-climbing (that’s no ropes, folks) in Moab’s breathtaking rock formations is something he probably does for a spot of idle relaxation: and when you’re this good at what you do, however challenging the climb, there’s always time to sit back and enjoy the view, at least for a second. Wanna climb icebergs? Watch Will do it at www.willgadd.com
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In a sport that measures success in hundredths of a second and separates heroes from also-rans by mere thousandths, it’s the tiniest advantages that make the biggest differences. Here are some of the pieces of the Formula One jigsaw that give Red Bull Racing that elusive edge 1 military precision Under the vigilant gaze of team manager Jonathan Wheatley, Red Bull Racing has been whip-cracked into a pin-sharp trackside operation. Faced this year with a 19-race schedule and tyres-only pitstops to be turned around in just three seconds, the Red Bull Racing pitcrew undertook pre-season training sessions in the same Bisham Abbey National Sports Centre grounds that the England Football squad use, to sharpen their physiques, improve their eye-hand co-ordination and prepare themselves for F1’s unique pressures. 2 Home comforts If an army marches on its stomach then it’s no surprise the Red Bull Racing boys are generally pretty content. The ‘Energy Station’ that accompanies the team to all European Races, as well as some of those further afield, is a mobile HQ for the race crew. At all hours it provides top-notch food, shelter and a welcome respite from the mad cacophony of the pitlane… 3 Location, location The ‘global cottage industry’ that is F1 car manufacture can count a small region 100km north-west of London as its heartland. Six teams are based here, including Red Bull Racing in Milton Keynes, as are F1 engine makers and countless small specialist suppliers. The talent pool available to teams based in
‘motorsport silicon valley’ is unmatched anywhere in the world. Red Bull Racing is at the epicentre of the action.
4 Racing’s in the blood When Red Bull entered F1 with Red Bull Racing, in 2005, it did so as a team owner, not merely as a sponsor. Motorsport runs deep through Red Bull’s DNA and its commitment to success in motorsport’s premier league has allowed the team to attract top-level talent, such as… 5 Adrian Newey No one man can be singled out for the team’s success, but Adrian Newey, as F1’s pre-eminent technical brain of the modern era, deserves special mention. The breakthrough victory came at the 2008 Italian Grand Prix, for Red Bull Racing’s sister team, Scuderia Toro Rosso, in a chassis designed in Milton Keynes. Then in 2009 the brilliant RB5 car came within a sniff of the drivers’ and constructors’ world titles. With Mark Webber and Sebastian Vettel going great guns this year, those titles remain the 2010 target. 6 Written in the wind Aerodynamic performance is the single most important performance component in contemporary F1 and top teams carry out much of that development in multimillion-dollar wind tunnels, resulting in the intricately formed bodies familiar as
PICTURES OF THE MONTH
every shot on target Email your pictures with a Red Bull flavour to email@example.com. Every one we print wins a pair of adidas Sennheiser PMX 680 Sports headphones. With a Kevlar-reinforced, two-part cable (it can be short when running with a music player on your arm, or extended with a built-in volume control), reflective yellow headband stripe and fully sweat- and water-resistant parts, they’re perfect for sports. Visit: www.sennheiser.co.uk Email: firstname.lastname@example.org
Wolfgangsee An ensemble of the Vienna Symphony Orchestra create mystical sound sculptures with group NOISIA Scalaria Air Challenge
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F1 cars. Red Bull Racing’s wind tunnel, in Bedford, used to belong to Britain’s Ministry of Defence. In its first life it was used to develop missiles and, later, Concorde. Next job: the RB7.
7 Even better than the real thing Off-season testing of F1 cars was cut back drastically last year, to help teams control costs, but the lack of ‘track time’ has frustrated some development programmes. In an effort to get around this, leading teams have invested heavily in simulator technology. Rumour has it Red Bull Racing’s simulator programme is the most advanced of any team.
en.redbulletin.com/print2.0 See Mark Webber take on Spa in Red Bull Racing’s F1 simulator
Here the weather is still fine, but later on at Red Bull Stomping Ground it was less a dirt comp than a mud fight Justin Kosman
Words: Anthony Rowlinson. Photography: Thomas Butler (3), Red bull Racing (5)
Moscow Alexey Kolesnikov delights the 40,000-strong crowd basking in the sun at the Red Bull X-Fighters in Moscow on his snowmobile Daniel Kolodin
8 Who’s better, who’s best? In Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber, Red Bull Racing has team-mates who would make it into any pundit’s ‘top 5’ and this year they’re more closely matched than ever. By mid-season, they had won five races between them and had been on pole position for all but one race. 9 If it ain’t bust… As any student of F1 history knows, the teams that have achieved the greatest success over a prolonged period have always enjoyed stability of funding, management and personnel. Red Bull Racing, with an unchanged 2010 driver line-up, stable management and an incrementally improved chassis, are attempting to follow that model. 10 You gotta want it From mid-grid in 2006, to title challengers by 2009, Red Bull Racing have come a long way, fast. But despite the success already achieved, none in this team will rest ’til those elusive titles have been won. Follow Red Bull Racing’s championship challenge at www.redbullracing.com
Surf rookies hang on every word of advice from surf pros Edgar Saavedra and Diego Naranjo Agustin Muñoz
The Hunt Is On The British cliff diver going for glory Since the 2010 Red Bull Cliff Diving World Series leapt into action, the world’s most talented aerial acrobats have thrilled crowds in France, Mexico and Norway with their spectacular dives. This month, one man has decided to push the limits even further. Britain’s Gary Hunt (above), second last year, is stepping up his game in a bid to knock 10-times world champion Orlando Duque from the top spot. On August 8, in Polignano a Mare, Italy, he will try a technique never used before in competition. Instead of the usual stationary start, the 26-year-old will take a run-up to the platform edge to increase his momentum, hopefully allowing him
Buttevant There was dust and dirt aplenty when competitors battled it out for the crowd at Red Bull Steeple Cross Mike Tynan
to fit an extra twist into the few seconds he has before reaching the water. “I’ve never been able to practise this new dive from full height before,” says Hunt, “but I’m just going to go for it. I’m determined to win.” Colombian Duque won’t concede his crown without a fight and, with strong contenders such as Russia’s Artem Silchenko following Hunt’s lead in taking on new, tougher dives, the series’ second half could not be more eagerly anticipated. After Italy, it heads to Sisikon in Switzerland and culminates at the sport’s birthplace, Hawaii, in September.
Earlier this year, Red Bull Illume invited photographers, amateur and pro, to submit their best work for a grand image competition that will culminate next month in an exhibition at one of Ireland’s most prestigious locations. “These are incredible images, I was floored,” says Nick Hamilton, an Illume judge and director of photography at Transworld Snowboarding magazine. The 50 photographs that will be on display at Trinity College in Dublin from August 31 were chosen from over 23,000 entered into the competition. There are few, if any, other global photo prizes on this scale. The 10 category winners and one overall winner will also be announced at the exhibition. See all 250 semi-finalist images at www.redbullillume.com
Dive in to the action at www.redbullcliffdiving.com
Baveno You just can’t trust those sat navs. At least sunburn was avoided thanks to a handily placed umbrella John Beavan
Gobi A local wonders what makes ultramarathon man Christian Schiester run 250km through the desert Roland Bogensperger
Words: Ruth Morgan, Paul Wilson. photography: Ray Demski/Red Bull Photofiles, Todd Buchanan/Red Bull Photofiles
Global photo competition climaxes in Dublin
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where’s your head at?
george clooney Flawless, charismatic, entertaining, smart: words that have been used to describe this article on some actor guy with a nice smile who’s done some decent films
Give Us A Cloo
George Timothy Clooney was born on May 6, 1961, in Lexing ton, Kentucky. His father, Nick, was a journalist, TV newsman and game-show host, but showbiz inspiration also came from his aunt and uncle, the singer Rosemary Clooney and the actor José Ferrer, and their son, actor Miguel Ferrer. In 1982, Cousin Mig convinced young George to seek his fortune in LA. He’d still be looking for it more than a decade later…
After an accident while filming Syriana, the 2006 political thriller for which he won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor, Clooney damaged his spine, to the point where splitting headaches and memory loss were trumped only by spinal fluid coming out of his nose. “It was the most unbearable pain I’ve ever been through,” he said. This from the man who starred in, and read the reviews for, Batman & Robin.
Second Time Around Clooney spent 12 years scraping by on TV show guest spots and small parts in rum movies such as Return To Horror High, before his big break, the medical drama ER, hit primetime TV in 1994. In 1984, he had played a supporting role in a short-lived comedy set in a hospital, starring Elliott Gould, and which was called E/R.
USA OK American movies of the 1960s and 1970s are George’s favourite; he has seen the 1976 film Network “50 times – I’m not exaggerating, 50”. It’s clear how those films influenced Clooney’s directorial efforts Confessions Of A Dangerous Mind and Good Night And Good Luck; less so in Leatherheads, his disappointing 2008 American football comedy.
Words: Paul Wilson. illustration: Lie-ins and tigers
Oh My God : You Helped Ken ny!
In 1995, an animated Christmas ‘card’ starring four foul-mouthed boys was circulated among Hollywood’s elite, thus sowing the seeds of South Park. GC is rumoured to have been one of the short’s keenest distributors: “There’s truth to that,” he told Esquire magazine. He would go on to voice South Park characters, and be mocked in the South Park creators’ film, Team America: World Police. That’s gratitude for you.
Charity Cas e
our boy The US political right enjoys bashing his hands gets he but s, view g for his left-leanin , he dirty for causes he believes in. In 1992 riots. LA the after -up clean the for volunteered a telethon Earlier this year, he helped organise e, visited for the victims of the Haiti earthquak raising Darfur in 2006 to make a documentary s, victim its and cide geno the awareness of y. and is now a United Nations peace envo
Attic Attac ked
In 2008, Clooney cemented his reputation as an all-round goo d egg when, having dinner cooked for him by a writer for Time magazin e at the writer’s house, he headed into the house’s crawlspaces in search of a rogue bleep, coming back with a carbon-monoxide detector in need of attention. Until the headline ‘Matt Damon: Cleaning Out My Hamster Cag e’ appears in a Sunday supplement, that wins.
Not So Amazing, Really
Not Everyone Likes Him The set of the 1999 Iraq war satire Three Kings was not a happy place. The difficult relationship between its director, David O Russell, and star, George Clooney, came to a head when Russell, having shouted at a cast member who Clooney defended, got his leading man by the throat. Clooney returned the favour in spades, a truce was ‘agreed’ and somehow a great film resulted.
For his next film, The American, Clooney plays a one-last-hit contract killer for whom it all goes wrong in the Italian countryside. Director Anton Corbijn, who made Joy Division biopic Control, had this to say of his leading man: “He keeps everyone’s spirits high between takes… but GC will never not be ready when the camera is switched on. It amazed me really.” The American is out later this year. www.theamericanthemovie.com
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DJ and producer Diplo makes use of the first-class facilities at the Red Bull Studio in London
Future Sound of London Red Bull Studio nurtures talent fresh and established Deep in south-east of London, an unusual creative haven is blossoming. Red Bull Studio is a well-equipped recording space at a time when such recording spaces are falling prey to music industry budget tightening. The studio has already been taken over by ex-Red Bull Music Academy alumni Mr Hudson, Mark Ronson has become a regular, using the space to broadcast his show for New York’s East Village Radio, and, last month, Hot Chip’s Joe Goddard locked himself away there with Raf Rundell to work on side project 2 Bears. “I was impressed by the big desk and the live room… there’s loads of space,” says Goddard, who would have liked more time with the studio’s vintage compressors. “So many studios are shutting down at the moment, and I like the fact this one is opening up.” Like most digital-age musicians, 22
Goddard spends a lot of production time on his laptop. “Technology can do a lot,” he says. “But there are things it can’t do. I don’t have the space to work collaboratively in my bedroom. It’s difficult to get people together to play, or groups of singers.” New talent is also being nurtured. Crewe metal band Blitz Kids are planning to record an entire album from scratch in two days, in homage to the eponymous album by their idols, Black Sabbath, while other fledgling and unsigned acts will learn studio skills from in-house engineer-to-the-stars Brendon Harding. The results are going global, with studio footage, interviews and unique tracks from London joining output from Red Bull Studios in South Africa, New Zealand, the USA and the soon-to-launch Jamaica venture on a dedicated website. Now hear this at www.redbullstudio.co.uk
From the nostalgic brainwave of classic-car-mad Lord March to one of the world’s great public celebrations of motorsport: the rise of the Goodwood Festival of Speed from its humble origins in 1993 is steeper than the famous hillclimb around which it pivots. So successful is the festival – 150,000 tickets sold – that this year’s event, held last month, was stretched to four days for the first time. Six of this year’s F1 teams were in attendance, including Red Bull Racing and driver Mark Webber, only days after his huge crash at the European GP (see p28). Also in attendance was reigning Red Bull Air Race World Champion Paul Bonhomme, flush from receiving the prestigious Segrave Trophy from the Royal Automobile Club. Since 1930, the award has recognised “the most outstanding demonstration of transportation by land, air or water”. Previous recipients include Barry Sheene, Colin McRae and Sir Stirling Moss. “I feel incredibly proud to have been considered, let alone selected, to receive the Segrave Trophy,” said Bonhomme. Equally impressive was his team’s efforts in getting his Edge 540 plane into the hallway of Club’s house in Pall Mall. See if Bonhomme can retain his title at www.redbullairrace.com
Words: Paul Wilson, Ruth Morgan. photography: Raine Manley Robertson, Getty Images
It’s all good at the Goodwood Festival of Speed
EYEWEAR + ACCESSORIES . SAN FRANCISCO www.sutrovision.com
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look back Snow Goggles, unbranded 1924 So did George Mallory reach the summit or didn’t he? That’s the question alpine researchers have been asking since June 8, 1924, when the English climber went missing on Mount Everest, alongside his climbing partner Andrew Irvine. Mallory’s body was 24
found on May 1, 1999 at 8,150m, about 700m from the summit, which Edmund Hillary reached 29 years after Mallory’s death. A camera that may have provided proof wasn’t found, but neither was the photo of his wife he had planned to leave
at the summit. His goggles were among the recovered objects. They have a light aluminium frame, strongly tinted green lenses and an adjustable rubber band. The simple, functional design is not far removed from that of its descendants.
PHOTOGRAPHY: GETTY IMAGES
You can’t make a mistake on the perpetual ice of an ‘eight-thousander’. It’s always been a matter of keeping things in plain sight. Here’s how; then and now
PHOTOGRAPHY: KURT KEINRATH
new view adidas terrex pro 2010 If Austria’s Gerlinde Kaltenbrunner scales K2 without using extra oxygen later this year, she will be the first woman to summit all 14 ‘eight-thousanders’ in that way. (Twenty men and two women have climbed the mountains higher than 8,000m above sea level, 10 of
the men without O2.) She will also be wearing a pair of Terrex Pro. The lenses offer total protection against UV rays, while a ventilation system prevents fogging and icing of the lenses when the temperature differential between face and outside world suggests
otherwise. And when you’re not wearing them for climbing, you can turn them into normal sunglasses: just replace the siliconcushioned headband with two ear-pieces and fold away the nose protector. See more ways of seeing at www.adidas.com
hier fehlt die frage?
hier fehlt die frage?
Amet lamcor adigniam vulla feum quat, quat diam, vent laorem dolorperos co
Amet lamcor adigniam vulla feum quat, quat diam, vent laorem dolorperos co
hard & fast Top performers and winning ways from around the globe
After six days of running through 250km of the Gobi Desert in 50ºC temperatures, ultramarathon runner Christian Schiester finished a remarkable second in 4 Deserts race.
Lindsey Vonn picked up two ESPY awards for her fine work on the slopes during the Winter Olympics. Snowboarder Shaun White joined her with two of his own.
If there’s a rally taking place on tarmac, chances are Sébastien Loeb and Daniel Elena will win it. The duo continued their hot streak on the Rally Bulgaria. Sicily might not be known for its motocross legends, but native son Antonio Cairoli (centre) is working to change that. The 2009 MX1 champion won July’s GP of Sweden.
Words: Andreas Tzortzis. Illustration: Dietmar Keinrath. Photography: Ray Archer, Roland Bogensperger/Red Bull Photofiles, GEPA, action Images/Reuters
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me and my body
The Ducati ace and 2006 MotoGP World Champ knows all about the physical perils of top-line bike racing. He’ll never need tattoos, says the Kentucky Kid. He’s all scars
Trai ning wheels
It’s hard to say how many hours I train. It’s something like three or four. In the off-season it’s more endurance stuff, but once the season really starts and we’re racing almost every week, it’s just a little something to stay sharp. I spend a lot of time are on Supermoto bikes and different things. There rs on wande it if se becau mind, my train to do I things a motorcycle, and you miss a brake marker, you crash. You can’t be thinking about your little sweetheart back home. I’ve messed with some visualisation techniques, but really I didn’t get into it. We have to train for motorcycle racing and there are times when you get too caught up in training. I’ve been guilty of it and you have to remember you’re a motorcycle racer and train to ride that motorcycle.
strong sid e
I use my inner leg a lot when I’m on the motorcycle – I squeeze the bike with it. My leathers are always rough there. You can duplicate the movement in the gym a little bit, but you don’t need to be a he-man and you don’t need too much weight. You just need to be strong and have enough skin on your bones to take a crash. If you get real skinny and real little then you’re not strong enough to hold on. As soon as you tip over, you’ll get smas hed.
Words: Günther Wiesinger. Photography: Contour/Max&Douglas
Them’ s the breaks
I injured my ankle and crushed my heel – that took a long time to heal. I had some shoulder injuries, hurt my back… but I’ve been pretty lucky not to have any big, big ones. Injuries are tough, man. They hold you back and take a lot of therapy and training. It can wear you down mentally. They’re probably the hardest thing about our sport.
badly drawn boy
I’ve got no tattoos. I’ve got scars everywhere, but no ink.
A big, big part of motorcycle racing is instinct. If you’re out there thinking about braking and shifting and little things, then you’re goin’ slow. t That’s all got to be instinct, but to make it instinc you have to visualise, practise, watch videos, get to the point where it just happens.
You have to be brave to race motorcycles. If you want to play piano then maybe you can be a coward. In this sport if you’re going to race, then you’re going to crash, and when you fall off these bikes it doesn’t exactly tickle. You put your body on the line and have to accept getting hurt. There are things about crashing; if you hold onto the bike too long, sometimes you can grind your hands down. If you try to get up while you’re still moving that makes things worse. Crashing is the luck of the draw, but there are some guys who know how to crash. They seem to take big crashes and get up with no problem. Other guys, they tip over in second gear and they’re hurt.
Feel the fear
I get nervous. I’m not going to try and sound like a tough guy and say I don’t, because MotoGP is a big deal, it means a lot to me. Nerves are a good thing. Y’know, if you didn’t get nervous at all then it shows it doesn’t really mean anything. Honestly, sometimes the more nervous I’ve been, the better I’ve performed. Daytona was always my great race, but it was always where I was most nervous.
eat it I follow a strict diet. We don’t put trash in our motorcycles so I can’t put trash in my body. If I’ve had my intake for the day then I think, ‘toughen up’. I think about racing motorcycles and forget it.
no pain, no gain
I’m only 29 but sometimes I get out of bed with a pretty good limp or when it gets cold my body hurts some places it’s got metal in it. But for the most part, when you’re professional, you have to rush injuries and play through pain. I’ve raced injured. I got on the podium at my home GP on crutches. The mind is a lot stronger than the body. Sometimes that’s bad because you hurt yourself even worse.
suited ’n’ booted
The protective suit has got really good. Boots, gloves, helmets… it’s all custom-made down to the last detail, trying to look for everything to improve it. People are starting to use airbags, too. That’s coming. Ride with Nicky Hayden at www.nickyhayden.com
b u l l e va r d
Anyone who saw Mark Webber’s crash at the European Grand Prix will be amazed that he walked away. But physics can tell us why UP IN THE AIR “I knew I was involved in a huge crash, and that I was just a passenger,” says Red Bull Racing driver Mark Webber. “The landing wasn’t too hard. It was OK because I had massive forward momentum. I knew there was a lot of run-off down there and I was happy it was a tyre wall that I eventually hit.” DOWN TO EARTH “It may sound like a cliché, but there is no way to escape the laws of physics,” says physicist Professor Thomas Schrefl. “The kinetic energy of the car, mv²/2, is three million joules, whereby m is the mass of the car and v is its velocity. Looking 28
at Webber’s recent backflip, we immediately think that kinetic energy is transferred into potential energy, mgh, and rotational energy, Iw²/2. Webber takes off from the ground by h = 2m and rotates at an angular velocity, , of about 180 degrees per second (1, 2, 3). Here m is the total mass, g is the acceleration due to gravity, and I is the moment of inertia. “However, doing the maths we see that the potential energy and the rotational energy take up about one to two per cent of the kinetic energy. After hitting the ground, Webber’s car slides towards the tyre barrier. Sliding means friction. The frictional force is FR = µmg, whereby µ is the friction coefficient between the car and the ground. The work, FR s, done by the frictional force is calculated simply: force times distance to the barrier. Friction reduces the kinetic energy by roughly 10 per cent. “From the reduced kinetic energy we find the velocity at which Webber hits the barrier to be around 280kph (174mph, 4, 5). The deformable nature of the barrier increases the time it takes to bring him to a halt. The longer this time, the smaller is the force, F, acting on car and its driver during the impact: Ft = mv. The deceleration in the crash’s final phase is about eight times the force of gravity.” Mark Webber talks about his crash at en.redbulletin.com/webbercrash
Words: Professor Thomas Schrefl, anthony Rowlinson. Photography: “FORMULA ONE™ images © Formula One Administration Limited 2010. illustration: mandy fischer
B u l l e va r d
The longest, most dangerous, fastest and most tortoise-like achievements from across the wide world of sports
The World’s Fastest Drummer organisation holds its Extreme Sport Drumming competition twice a year. Using a piece of equipment known as the Drumometer to count individual strikes, the WFD separates budding Keith Moons from Ringo Starrs. With a personal best of 1,247 strokes in 60 seconds, Mike Mangini, formerly the drummer of hairrockers Extreme (yes, really), has been world champion in the Matched Grip Singles category since 2002.
Such is their size and unpredictability, waves are difficult for officials to quantify. Besides, in surfing terms, the real power of a wave is in its weight rather than height, and surfing fraternity consensus has it that the heaviest wave ever ridden was Tahiti’s famous Teahupoo swell, conquered by surf legend Laird Hamilton on August 17, 2000. As many as 10 people are thought to have died riding Teahupoo since then, and countless seriously injured, making it the deadliest wave in the world.
Forrest Gump famously ran for three years, two months, 14 days and 16 hours, but he must have made stops along the way, so he’s ineligible for the record of furthest non-stop run. Having run 50 marathons in 50 days, the self-styled Ultramarathon Man, Greek-American Dean Karnazes (right), claims to have covered 563km without sleep. However, he couldn’t come close to his compatriot Yiannis Kouros, who in 1988 ran 734km in four days without a break.
The longest recorded skateboard jump, 24m, was landed in 2004 at the X Games by Danny Way. But while not quite as long, Way’s next record-breaking attempt was arguably the greater achievement. In 2005, the Californian became the first person to jump the Great Wall of China without motorised aid. Having failed on his first attempt, Way then successfully landed five consecutive 18.5m jumps in front of an adoring Chinese public, throwing in a few 360s for added flair.
0.45 The record for longest tightrope walk across a stretch of water was broken in April earlier this year by Swiss circus performer Freddy Nock, who traversed the 900m across Lake Zurich. This achievement, at 30m above the water, took him two hours, which by our reckoning also qualifies Nock’s feat as the slowest distance attempt in the record book, as his average speed was just 0.45kph.
673 A quick refresher in extreme vocabulary: the BASE in BASEjumping is an acronym for the categories of structure from which a person can launch themselves: Buildings, Antennas, Spans or Earth. The highest ‘B’ jump, recorded on January 8 this year, was made from the 160th floor of Burj Khalifa in Dubai, the world’s tallest manmade structure. Jumping together, Nasr Al Niyadi and Omar Al Hegelan set a benchmark of 673m. More record-breaking moments at www.guinnessworldrecords.com
Words: toby wiseman. photography: IMAGO SPORTFOTO (1), Action Images/Reuters (2), Getty Images (2), Rex Features (1)
Reg. charity 267444 Photo: © Rodrigo Baleia.
Cattle ranchers in Paraguay want to cut down vast tracts of uncontacted Indians’ rainforest and still portray themselves as environmentally responsible. How? Simple. Just call the islands of forests that are left ‘nature reserves’. Help restore logic. www.restorelogic.org/paraguay
In terms of performance, these guys are at the top of their game
Credit Photography: Action Images
34 peter zoller 38 Jason Wynyard 40 bitches with wolves 42 Alexander Bryukhankov
Making a splash: Russian triathlete Alexander Bryukhankov (centre) is currently topping the rankings in his sport â€“ but heâ€™s still not well known in his home country. Read more on page 42.
At the foot of the Alps, one of the planet’s premier quantum physicists is working towards a time when computers respond to the blink of an eye, and our world will change forever Words: Wolfgang Hofbauer Photography: Philipp Horak
Name Peter Zoller Born September 16, 1952, Innsbruck Marital status Married, three children Education Studied Physics (Innsbruck, doctorate 1977); research in the US, New Zealand and France; 1981 received post-doctoral lecture qualification at the University of Innsbruck Professional position Professor at the Institute for Theoretical Physics at the University of Innsbruck. Visiting professor at Harvard (USA), Leiden (Netherlands), Heifei and Beijing (China), among others Specialist in Quantum optics and quantum information Awards 1998: Wittgenstein Award 2005: Max Planck Medal 2010: Benjamin Franklin Medal in Physics Member of the Academy of Sciences in Spain, the Netherlands and Austria as well as at the United States National Academy of Sciences Web www.uibk.ac.at
The man fidgeting around outside the Institute for Quantum Optics and Quantum Information (IQOQI) in Innsbruck, Austria, on October 6, 2009, turns out to have been a radio reporter. He’d received a list from Thomson Reuters that revealed one of the institute’s staff as one of the 25 most promising candidates for the Nobel Prize in Physics. So he wanted an interview with the superstar, naturally enough. What a scoop! He’d have been first. But it turned out that the scientist had gone to the dentist’s. And when, in the end, someone else had received the most prestigious of all science prizes, the reporter slunk away again. No Nobel Prize, no interview. I mean, what would they have talked about? Experiences of this kind are nothing new to someone like Peter Zoller. His area of specialisation is – how shall we put it? – not the stuff you’re likely to chat about around the house. And unless it’s linked to something that everyone can understand, it tends to thrive out of public view. Paradoxically, this is where the most exciting forays into the unknown are taking place: in the very smallest dimensions of our world, the mysteries of which are, in many cases, unresolved. Zoller is the managing and research director of the Quantum Optics and Quantum Information working group, and the mere fact that he was considered for the Nobel Prize – and surely not for the last time – shows outsiders how important he is. The scientist is sitting in a clinically modern, black leather armchair in his spacious office. It has a floor-to-ceiling glass façade and the Nordkette mountain range outside towers so close that it looks like it’s in the neighbour’s garden. Peace reigns again after a flurry of excitement, and again caused by a prize which, though it attracts less publicity than the one named after Alfred Nobel, is surely just as valuable. The Franklin Medal, which Peter Zoller was awarded in late April in Philadelphia alongside physicists Ignacio Cirac and David Wineland, is one of the most important scientific awards there
is. Previous winners include Rudolf Diesel, Thomas Edison, Marie and Pierre Curie and Albert Einstein. On this occasion, recipients also included Bill Gates (for his financial philanthropy). The Franklin Institute’s official explanation for awarding the medal reveals something of the specificity of the subject matter. The three researchers were honoured “for their theoretical proposal and experimental realisation of the first device that performs elementary computer-logic operations using the quantum properties of individual atoms”. Or, to put it in a nutshell, Peter Zoller and Ignacio Cirac had established the theoretical base for quantum computers and thereby paved the way for technology that will put computing as we know it in a completely different dimension. Compared to regular computers, quantum computers are almost incomprehensibly powerful. In fact, silicon computers have long since struggled to cope with really complex brain-teasers such as certain material calculations, searches in huge databases and the encryption and decryption of top-secret information. A normal computer is to a quantum computer what the Wright Brothers’ Flyer (a machine that earned its creators a Franklin medal, too) is to a Eurofighter. The only downside to quantum computers is that they don’t yet exist. At least not in any tangible sense. “Maybe they will in 10 years. They definitely will in 20,” says Zoller. Which isn’t so long when you think under what odd circumstances, and how recently, it all began. It was just 15 years ago that Peter Zoller and his colleague Ignacio Cirac, another quantum physicist, were at a nuclear physics conference in Boulder, Colorado. On the podium, Oxford quantum physicist Artur Ekert was presenting a quantum algorithm, ie a programme for a quantum computer. It would all work in such and such a way, Ekert explained, but he didn’t have the computer for it. He was also sure that there would be a quantum computer one day,
The write stuff: In Peter Zollerâ€™s mind, formulas swirl and tumble, their solutions providing clues as to how weâ€™ll live our lives in the future
Peter Zoller in a lab at the Institute for Quantum Optics and Quantum Information in Innsbruck
but he had no idea how it would work. “Up until that point we’d never even heard of one,” Zoller says all these years later. But, “Ekert asked the right questions. And Ignacio and I knew the answers. Right there in the auditorium we understood that we could make one.” In simple terms, the answer was an ion trap. You would have to get a couple of ions – electrically charged atoms – or, if possible, many more into a small space, put them in order and calculate their quantum properties. Once back at the university, Zoller began making the calculations himself and within a couple of months the concept had been born. And, again, in simple, indeed, very simple terms, it goes something like this… A normal computer computes binarily. It has 0 and 1 to work with and engineers a result from them. But the laws of quantum physics apply (see box) to an atom or electron, ie the storage cells of a quantum computer. For example, they have intrinsic angular momentum of 0 and 1 simultaneously. Which is precisely the point. You could create an index from multiple particles that would embody the sum of all possibilities. This would result in much greater computing power than in standard computers. It would be almost limitless. Zoller understood all that quickly enough, but came up against difficulties around the very first corner. Wineland, the Franklin Medal winner along with Zoller, had already demonstrated the basic idea
with an ion in the National Institute for Standards and Technology’s laboratories in Boulder, Colorado. But it was seven years before Zoller’s colleague Rainer Blatt – working independently in Innsbruck – managed to carry out the first calculation with multiple atoms in an ion trap in the basement of the institute. Zoller explains: “At the time, more than one person said to us, ‘Nothing will come of this.’ Back then we were the mad ones. But we stuck at it. And we started having success.” The scientist talks of a perfect environment. Anton Zeilinger, who is now doing research in Vienna, was in Innsbruck at the time, for example, and it is where he conducted his spectacular teleportation experiments (or beam-me-up experiments, as CNN referred to them). The IQOQI, which is part of the Academy of Sciences, has a worldwide reputation but, Zoller says, “…it is one of the few islands of excellence in a mediocre academic milieu”, before adding, “That’s the Austrian mentality, the comfort zone. But science isn’t comfortable. On the contrary, it’s extremely Darwinian. In the US, they’ve understood that, which is why they’re so good at it. It’s not just about money.” Zoller now often accompanies visitors to the institute’s basement and shows them the little, red cloud of calcium ions floating in what is known as the Paul trap. The ions are cooled with a laser to almost absolute zero (-273.15°C) and demonstrate
What is quantum mechanics?
The world reduced
Additional Photography: Christoph Lackner (2), Universität Innsbruck
When researchers advance into the very smallest components of matter, different laws of physics apply to those of our everyday world. Very different laws For a long time, Newtonian physics was the be-all and end-all. In the 17th century, Isaac Newton formulated his laws of gravity and motion, thus establishing our understanding of the world. Using these laws, everything worked and could be explained clearly and logically, apart from comets, vampires and swarms of locusts, that is. At the dawn of the 20th century, however, this perfect order, with its laws that were clear to us even if we didn’t understand the underlying mathematics, began to falter, because the laws of Newtonian physics applied to the world at large but weren’t much use when it came to the smallest dimensions. What Max Planck, Werner Heisenberg, Niels Bohr and others asserted in the early decades of the 20th century questioned everything that had until that point been considered certain, and completely new findings had to be accepted. Energy cannot be changed continually, but only in small amounts (quanta). Electrons suddenly no longer moved in circles around the atomic nucleus but followed a probability distribution. Things were one thing and something else at the same time, so light, depending on how the experiment was set up, could be a wave or a stream of particles and in actual fact was clearly both simultaneously. Particles such as photons (light particles) could become entwined with other particles and, to put it very simply, interact with them instantaneously (quicker than the speed of light), regardless of distance (even millions of kilometres). And by observing something, we change it. An elementary particle changes speed when we measure it (by casting light on it, for example). This last point gives rise to one of the cornerstones of quantum physics: it is impossible to calculate the speed and location of a particle at the same time. Quantum physics has seen indeterminacy and probability establishing a foothold in the world of science. Admittedly, this all affects man and his macrophysical day-to-day life very little. Apart from the fact that without quantum physics there wouldn’t be CD-players, transistors or computers here today. Strictly speaking, we wouldn’t be here either.
1 The heart of an Ion trap, where the electrically charged atoms are put in order and their quantum properties calculated 2 Quantum physics has a bit of a PR problem: without the required mathematical basis, it’s quite difficult to understand 3 A laser brings the Ions down to almost absolute zero, which might be a bit impractical when trying to build a quantum laptop
identical quantum properties. Ions in traps like these can now calculate that the factors of the number 15 are 3 and 5. “Exactly the answer we were expecting,” says Zoller, without missing a beat. So if we’re comparing the research to scaling Mount Everest, we’ve just about made it out of Vienna. “But just think how regular computers started in the 1930s with the most basic electric circuits,” adds Zoller. The Austrian scientist wants his quantum technology to have broad application. “Quantum information, quantum computers, quantum simulation in material research; it’s not just about a super-computer,” he says. “What we won’t have is desk-top quantum computers. We don’t need those.” He gives a nice example of how a quantum computer would be superior in material calculation. “Take a magnet whose magnetism is defined by, among other things, the intrinsic angular momentum of its electrons. If I want to analyse just 300 electrons in relation to this momentum, I have 2 to the power of 300 possibilities, which is approximately how many atoms there are in the universe that we can see. A quantum computer can calculate all those momentums at the same time. A normal computer would have to have 2 to the power of 300 storage cells, ie have the atoms of all the matter in the world.” And who would be left to operate it? To discover more about the Institute for Quantum Optics and Quantum Information in Innsbruck visit, www.iqoqi.at
jason wynyard The world’s best lumberjack may well be ‘top of the chops’ with a nice line in armchair philosophy, but he still isn’t completely happy with his swing Words: Andreas Rottenschlager Photography: Philipp Horak
Name Jason Wynyard Born November 14, 1973, Te Awamutu, New Zealand Occupation Woodcutter Achievements Eight-time winner of the STIHL Timbersports Series, two-time World Champion (2006 and 2009) Lumberjack soundtrack AC/DC, Prince and Queen Love story Jason’s wife Karmyn frequently competes in ladies’ woodcutting competitions. “She only really does it so she can spend more time with me,” her husband reveals Tradition Wynyard is a Maori. His father is from the Nga Puhi tribe. His mother is Ngati Maniapoto When he’s chopped wood for good? He’ll make axes for competitions (“really good ones”) Web www.jasonwynyard.com
The wood-chips fly for metres, raining down on the spectators with every new hack. It’s a sunny day in the garden of the Schönbrunn Palace in Vienna. Broad gravel paths line the grounds of the magnificent baroque building. In the trees, little birds can be seen perfecting their nests. And in the middle of the green, a 1.9m giant with a gleaming axe is doing some serious damage to a block of poplar. Jason Wynyard sucks his lungs full of air before every strike and then crunches the sharp blade back into the log. Deep breath and thwack! Deep breath and thwack! It sounds as if a steam-engine is chugging down the avenue. The world’s best axe-wielding athlete is demonstrating before an appreciative viewing public how you hack a block of wood 1ft thick and almost 1m tall to bits. Wynyard wields the final blow in less than 15 seconds. Deep breath and thwack! One more precision blow and the top half of the block topples to the ground. The man with the razor-sharp hatchet wipes the sweat from his brow and looks around him. Bits of wood are strewn all over the gravel path, the public is applauding. Wynyard, who hails from Massey, New Zealand, is an eight-time winner of the STIHL Timbersports Series, the main international wood-cutting championships. The events cover three axe and three saw disciplines, from the old-fashioned Standing Block Chop (man, axe, tree) to the taming of the Hot Saw (a souped-up 80bhp monster chainsaw with a chain speed of 240kph). A healthy portion of muscle power is required for this discipline, but it’s competitors with the most precision who triumph in each of the six disciplines. Timbersports World Championships have been held since 2005 and Wynyard has been crowned champion twice, in 2006 and 2009. Surprisingly for a man who’s just carried out a wood massacre he has a very gentle handshake. This 133kg giant is a courteous man with philosophical leanings, especially when conversation turns to his favourite, ahem, branch of his sport: the Standing Block Chop. “Wood-cutting is full of disappointments,”
the 36-year-old explains. “Because there’s no perfect way of chopping through a block of wood. Every swing of the axe can be millimetres out and no one can cut wood without making mistakes. All you can do is go for a personal best.” (The current personal best is 12.11 seconds. The record-holder is J Wynyard). In Kaingaroa Forest, where, predictably perhaps, he grew up, there are now deserts of tree stumps as large as small towns. It is well known that the best wood-cutters come from this desert and they have done their work there well. The old forestry worker joke to some extent also reflects Jason Wynyard’s youth: grandfather a lumberjack, father a lumberjack and little Jason first taking an axe in his hands when he was six. The trees there were truly out of luck. It’s hard to believe but Wynyard, whose back is as wide as a table-tennis table, was once a rather weedy boy. And that the career of this double world champ started with defeat, at the tender age of 12. “There were three guys in it and I came third. I found that really hard to take.” From that point on, he began training like a man possessed and by the age of 16, he was already a member of the New Zealand Axemen team. Back then, there was no question of doing this for a living. So Wynyard would instead eke out a wage at a cement plant and improve his axe-swing in the evenings. He would later move on to the mixing truck and perfect his stance on breaks between driving. In 1994, he saw the Timbersports Series on TV. “And I knew I could win the axe disciplines at the very least.” Wynyard took a risk, jacked in his job in 1996 at the age of 23 and went to Canada. He’s lived from professional sawing and hacking ever since. How’s life on the road? “Well, it’s tough, of course. I’ve just become a father for the third time and I miss my children a lot,” he reveals. But once a year, at least, he can combine work and family at the Jack and Jill mixed competitions – the happiest moments in his sporting career – where Karmyn Wynyard, his wife, is at the other end of the crosscut saw. The 2010 STIHL Timbersports World Championships are at St Johann in Tirol, September 4-5: www.stihl.com/timbersports
en.redbulletin.com/print2.0 Get preview of the axe action
World Champ woodcutter Jason Wynyard: â€œOf course growing up in the forest affected meâ€?
Bitches with Wolves Ireland’s next major pop star might just be a bubbly, high-energy PR assistant with a penchant for shoulder pads and sequined cycling shorts Words: Andreas Tzortzis Photography: Dan Wilton
The Dance Arena at this year’s Oxegen Festival was filled to about capacity when a sprightly young man in emerald green sequined hot pants and a gold jacket came strutting on stage to a roar. As he launched into ‘Good as Gold’, the first of many synth pop anthems in his repertoire, the Oxegen crowd screamed back the lyrics. “Which is just amazing, because you can’t buy anything yet,” says James O’Neill, alias Bitches With Wolves. “I was like, ‘So this next song will be blah blah blah’, and they’re like ‘Yeeeahh! I love that one!’” The immediate reception contrasted starkly with the hollow-eyed revellers, family and friends who greeted him when he came out on stage at last year’s Oxegen Festival – his third-ever gig. But the baby steps of O’Neill’s nascent pop career have turned into fully fledged leaps in the past 12 months. Gigs at small Dublin and London club nights have evolved into opening sets for Fatboy Slim and Calvin Harris in Ireland, dates at the Electric Picnic Festival and at this year’s Lovebox in London. Not bad for a 24-year-old employee of a Dublin PR company who blagged his way into his first-ever gig one late night with a made-up band name and hit song. In the last year, Bitches With Wolves gigs have become one of the worst-kept secrets of the Irish club scene. A steady diet of high-energy, danceable pop anthems in the vein of his heroes Madonna, electro-folk princess Peaches and ’70s disco lion Sylvester, O’Neill’s gigs feature about as many costume changes as they do song titles. He rocked up in white tights, sequined pants and an Elizabethan collar at his last Oxegen gig. American football shoulder pads and cycling shorts have also been staples. “Pop music for me is all about escapism,” he says. “It’s almost like you’re feeding someone. And as much as you aurally feed someone, it’s important to visually feed someone. It’s like your garnish, in a kind of way.” At a time when the live performance is the most vital part of an artist’s continuing commercial success, and with a host of role models – from 40
Madonna on to heir apparent Lady Gaga – before him, O’Neill’s colourful stage show is an obvious approach. But, he adds, it’s not one likely to come from the artists typically produced in Ireland. The country has done a successful trade in vocalists and guitar rock, from brooding, Oscarwinning Glen Hansard and Enya to Thin Lizzy, and those four guys who continue to pack stadiums and alleviate third world debt. Pop stars, aside from Westlife and, perhaps, early 21st-century diva Samantha Mumba, have been few and far between. O’Neill thinks he knows why. “I think it’s in the Irish psyche not to stand out. And to be a mad pop singer, you obviously have to stand out,” he says. “It’s easy to stand there and sing about love. It’s a lot harder to dance around like a maniac, have the time of your life and make sure everyone else is having the time of their lives.” But it’s the path that O’Neill has embarked on, however unlikely his credentials. With little qualification aside from a stint in the choir of his local church, O’Neill wrote songs while studying at University College Dublin and planned an exit strategy. He spent time in New York before heading for London after university. In the summer of 2008, he was at a party when he was approached by a man who told him he should be in a band. “We are,” O’Neill shot back. “We’re called Bitches With Wolves.” The name came to him as quickly as the name of his “hit song”, an imaginary ode to a friend who earlier in the evening had tried urinating in a refrigerator. It was called ‘You Can’t Piss to This’ and appeared on an imaginary album available, he told him, only in Stockholm. “So he booked us for a gig and that’s how it all started,” he says. “And then I went and wrote a song called ‘You can’t piss to this’.” Sometimes it’s that easy. Bitches With Wolves will be playing at Electric Picnic, Stradbally, September 3-5. For tickets and info, visit www.electricpicnic.ie
Name James O’Neill Artist name Bitches With Wolves Born September 16, 1985, in Dublin, Ireland Occupation Pop singer Studied Greek and Roman Civilisation and Sociology, University College, Dublin Chart chargers ‘Broken Hearts’ and ‘You Can’t Piss to This’ Club diva Runs a successful club night, War, at Dublin’s Spy Bar – featuring, among other things, face paint and a lack of air-conditioning Web www.myspace.com/ bitcheswithwolves
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Alexander BRyukhankov Triathlon has a deserved reputation as one of the very hardest human endurance events. It’s even harder when your huge natural talent is ignored by your own country, but that’s just another challenge for a man used to overcoming adversity Words: Robert Sperl Photography: Jiri Krenek
The indoor pool in Tábor smells a bit like all indoor pools do once they’ve started getting on a bit. The staff in this Bohemian town may use as much soft soap and ammonium chloride as elsewhere, but the public just don’t seem to be able to shower and swim that sweat away. The young sportsmen and women who squeeze through the turnstile at the entrance in their tracksuits and carrying their sports bags have long since stopped noticing the odour. Nor do they notice the humid heat that hits them harder every door they walk through. The attendant holds court from his glass booth. A water polo net is parked at each end of the pool. Two of the eight lanes in this 25m pool are cordoned off: out of bounds to the regular swimmers. The sportsmen, or rather seven men and one woman, begin with some warm-up exercises. Lanky arms and legs rotate through the air, tie themselves up in knots, come undone again. Heads make circular movements. Muscles relax. These motions tell us that these are real experts warming up and not just some hobby swimmers from the odborná škola [vocational school] on Dobrovského Street. Orders break the silence. The boys and girl hop into the water like seals and then things the likes of which you’ve never seen start happening. Regardless of whether they’re doing the backstroke or frontcrawl, they cruise through the pool like speedboats, and end every lap with an elegant flip turn. They are in their element, as is the small, potbellied man in charge of them. He could be one of Genghis Khan’s horsemen with that moustache if it weren’t for the stopwatch in his hand and if he wasn’t wearing a shirt with ‘RUSSIA’ emblazoned across it, the same as the one his assistant Olga is wearing. Alexander Sasha Fetisov trains the Moscow Triathlon Team which spends its training weeks in and around Tábor, near Brno in the south Czech Republic. Today they’re doing water work. Four, six, eight quick lengths alternate with relaxing lengths. Sasha calls those bathing. It’s high tempo: 100m 42
times of one minute, five seconds are kept up for the whole training. If a pedestrian wanted to keep up with them poolside, he’d have to get a move on. Among the athletes sharing these narrow lanes is Alexander Bryukhankov. He’s 6ft 2in tall and weighs 11st, 11lb. His upper body is the shape of an icecream cone. He has strong but flat pectoral muscles and his arms are incredibly thin. I did wonder why his handshake was so gentle, but appearances can be deceptive. Every fibre in every one of the 23-yearold’s muscles is in top form, which is why, after three events, he’s leading the Dextro Energy Triathlon ITU World Championship Series, the top triathlon category over the Olympic distance: a 1,500m swim, 40km bike-ride and then a 10km run one after the other. Winning times for this 51.5km course are typically between one hour 50 minutes and two hours 10, depending on the course. Sasha Fetisov says swimming is not necessarily one of Bryukhankov’s strengths, even if he has good facilities at his disposal. Triathletes swim strangely anyway. Their heads come too far out of the water because they constantly have to check where they’re going, but Alexander also shears slightly around the vertical axis, which wastes energy. But the training group includes Dmitry Polyansky, an excellent swimmer, and that helps Bryukhankov. Polyansky is hot on his tail in the World Series, which adds a bit more spice to the training sessions. They do length after length and the layman can’t help wondering whether the triathlon sports get in the way of training. Doesn’t improvement in one of the disciplines prevent progress in another? Fetisov explains: “You lose the muscles you build up from swimming when you do the other two sports.” Most training is either five-day cycles of swimming or running, which means about 12.5 or 50 miles (20 to 80km) respectively for Bryukhankov. Other journeys can be done by bike, like to and from the pool. Which means that after every training cycle, Bryukhankov’s Cinelli time-trial
Name Alexander Bryukhankov Born April 12, 1987, Andropov (renamed Rybinsk in 1989), Russia Trains in Moscow and Tábor Hobbies Nowadays: going out and the internet. Old days: fishing, picking mushrooms Killer CV 2nd: 2006 junior European Championships 1st (team); 2nd (individual): 2007 U-23 European Championships 2007 Team World Champion; 2nd at the World Cup, 2007 24th 2008 Olympics 3rd: 2009 World Championship Series; 3rd 2009 European Championships; 1st (team) at the 2009 under-23 European Championships, 2nd: 2010 World Series in Sydney; leading the series after three races What’s in a name On the official triathlon hompage, wcs.triathlon. org, he’s missing the Y from his surname, but he’s forgiven them the error, he’s sure people still know who he is
Shape to Ha ecofrtthings o i oe n s come: Russian triathlete Alexander Bryukhankov has been dominating the world series in 2010. Is he surprised at his form? “I’ve invested a good amount of energy and health to be standing where I’m currently standing”
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bike has clocked up another 125 to 150 miles (200 to 240km). The year’s work begins in November and December, not with sport but with recovery in the Caucasus spa town of Kislovodsk. There are then 10 weeks in Cyprus where, according to Fetisov, the athletes slowly start moving again. Then comes the intensive phase where one triathlon of sleeping, eating and training follows another. But even during the demanding training sessions, Bryukhankov looks like the kind of guy who would never be unsettled by anything. One of his rivals, New Zealander Bevan Docherty, says the Russian is about as emotional as a lump of rock. But team psychologist Svetlana Slepchenkova says that’s self-confidence born of good results. And does he
“The hardest discipline in the triathlon is running: You have opportunities to rest yourself while swimming or cycling” ever get nervous? Alexander can sleep 12 hours straight no problem. Another string to his bow. Perhaps he’s also immune to self-doubt because his brother Andrey, four years his junior, is also involved in the sport. He’s a great talent too, and provides emotional support. The brothers were born and grew up in Rybinsk, a provincial town 175 miles (280km) north of Moscow. When Alexander was small he wanted to be a cosmonaut, but his parents decided to send their eldest to swimming club for starters. Then there was table tennis ‘Russian Style’ – a combat sport – until he broke a collarbone. Eventually, Alexander got interested in multidiscipline events, which are very popular in various forms in Russia as a precursor to military service. In 44
Alexander’s case this involved 100m swims and sprints, shooting airguns, throwing hand grenades and 3,000m cross-country runs. Alexander contested his first triathlon in 2002 at the age of 15. He finished second, even though the bike was an old piece of junk and his kit comprised a billowing Adidas tracksuit with a tight football jersey on top to stop the sleeves flapping, plus leggings and woolly socks. “I looked like a rapper,” he remembers. From 2004 he started taking part in more and more triathlons and moved to Moscow to take advantage of the better training facilities. He was called up to the national junior team. In 2005 he began training with Fetisov who had competed in maritime multidiscipline events, another Russian speciality. Triathlon is still a fringe sport in Russia, probably because it’s only been in the Olympics since 2000. Over the past 10 years, however, public interest has grown, as has state funding – though any Russian achieving success is still likely to do so in spite of these efforts rather than because of them. At sports events where triathletes are also represented, players of gorodki, a traditional bowling-like game requiring contestants to hit five skittles arranged in different shapes with a wooden bat, get more fan-worship than Bryukhankov, even though he has the honorary ‘master of sport’ title. Would an Olympic medal help? That would open people’s eyes, Bryukhankov thinks, and adds that for him it’s not about the money. So when does the Olympic triathlon really start hurting? Bryukhankov answers, “At the first buoy.” It’s a bottleneck where all the participants come together. “We’re literally climbing over each other.” And what’s the hardest of the three triathlon disciplines? “The running. You can still take it relatively easy during the swimming and cycling.” Bryukhankov started his partnership with Red Bull at the end of 2009. One of their first
meetings took place at the Red Bull Diagnostics and Training Centre in Thalgau, a tiny town just to the east of Salzburg, in Austria. The Russian completed some initial tests and, much to everybody’s amazement, he managed to equal almost all the benchmarks recorded in the archives. Does that mean we’ll be seeing him on the Ironman circuit soon? His assistant trainer, Olga, a top triathlete herself, shakes her head, but Bryukhankov nods: “Because no Russian’s ever done well in Ironman contests yet.” The only obstacle is Alexander’s sleepyhead tendencies… and Ironman races tend to start early in the morning. Once the swimming’s done, it’s back to headquarters. The Dextro Energy Triathlon ITU World Championship Series venues – Seoul, Sydney, Madrid, London, Hamburg, Kitzbühel and Budapest – may be all fivestar, but the training camps could hardly be more different. The access road soon leads off the main road and before you know it you’re in the middle of the forest at a modest holiday home rented from a Dutchman. A Russian flag hangs limply from an impromptu flagpole. The swankiest thing about the place is its address: Stříbrné Hute (Silver Huts). In the hall, there are about 30 pairs of running shoes strewn about and from the clues offered by the kitchen/living room it’s obvious there must be up to a dozen people living here. There are piles of bread for toasting, UHT milk, yogurt, pasta, boxes of muesli and jars of honey and marmalade; it all looks neat and tidy, which is probably thanks to Sasha’s assistant, Olga, and psychologist Svetlana. But why are they out here in the middle of nowhere? It’s the perfect place, Olga explains. It’s not far from the pool, there are good roads, a variety of running paths in the forest and in a stadium, fresh air and a central location with easy
flights to competition venues. Value for money, too. They wouldn’t be able to afford something in Russia with equally good infrastructure. The only bad thing about Stříbrné Hute is the absence of internet access. Svetlana has a solution: “Leave.” Olga has already found alternative headquarters. It’s no problem organising anything when your surname is, like Olga’s, Generalova. To end the day, a 10km ride to a training run. The athletics stadium in Tábor has a nice Tartan track. Alexander, Dmitry and the other athletes park their time-trial bikes on the running track, get changed and get going. Sasha is displaying the flashy ‘RUSSIA’ legend on his tracksuit again, as he eggs his team on. The local athletes who train here are as unimpressed with it all as the senior teams, who abandon their regular activities. Just a few years ago, the appearance of Russians on the track would have probably made for an even frostier atmosphere. On the agenda today is 400m flat out, then 200m at 85 per cent, then another 400 flat out for 5km in total. With a warm-up run beforehand and a cool-down run after. Alexander Brukhankov can’t conceal his love of running: his footfall is gentle, his step rangy. “Bring your shoulders down!” Sasha shouts out, but that’s his only criticism. Out on the track, Dmitry Polyansky is studying Bryukhankov’s ease and fluency. He seems to be able to clock kilometre times of three minutes – times any marathon runner would be happy with – without much effort. He can go faster too if he has to. In Sydney, Bryukhankov very nearly caught race-winner Docherty after a furious final push. He finished six seconds down. Once he’d crossed the finishing line, he was like the perfect racing car as described by Ferdinand Porsche… One that fell apart straight after the race.
Worlds apart: Bryukhankov fights for points at World Series stops in some of the world’s loveliest cities: Sydney, London, Hamburg, Madrid, Seoul, Kitzbühel and Budapest. Training, on the other hand, takes place in the bucolic Czech town of Tábor, where a common kitchen takes the place of hospitality tents and the training whistle of his coach replaces the applause of the crowd
Tri and keep up with Alexander Bryukhankov at wcs.triathlon.org
Photography: Predrag Vuckovic
Power moves: This month, the Red Bull X-Fighters head to Battersea Power Station in London for the second time in the seriesâ€™ history. Find out whatâ€™s happened so far on page 58.
Flip through the following pages and get your fill of speed, sounds and stunning moves 48 Siena’s palio horse race 58 Red Bull X-Fighters’ levi Sherwood 62 rocking with kasabian 66 the REd Bull Air Race in New YOrk 72 south Africa’s bmx heroes
And theyâ€™re offâ€Ś horses and riders begin their circuits of the Piazza del Campo
THRILLER Every year, the city of Siena focuses on a spectacle known as the Palio. On the surface itâ€™s a bareback horse race, underneath itâ€™s a battle between the city boroughs, in which centuries-old rivalries erupt, with vast sums changing hands and reputations at stake Words: Norman Howell Photography: Niels Ahlmann Olesen
iena, Piazza del Campo, July 2, 2010. It’s 20 minutes past seven in the evening and 20,000 people are crammed into the magnificent shell-shaped square. Nine horses are jockeying for position at one end of the square, pushing, buffeting their bareback riders, using their elbows and knees to bump and strike their fellow jockeys and the horses. Two ropes delineate the start area. Behind the back one, a 10th horse and rider are moving nervously. The crowd watches, expectant, tense. The front rope is the charge of the Mossiere, who will only start the race when the last horse’s neck is through the gap alongside the rear rope, and the other horses are lined up correctly. But it’s chaos in there, so he orders them all out. They circle, then file back in. More bumping and pushing ensues. Out they come, and again. Five times the Mossiere orders them out. The crowd’s noise rises every time, echoing around the piazza, as does the tension. Last year it took two hours to start the Palio. I can see why. The Mossiere is in charge, but until the 10th horse enters the starting area, he is impotent. But there is another very important factor that influences the start: the
Horses and riders line up against the front rope, the grey, called Fedora Saura, is kicked and bumped. Above right: The crowds wait. Right: Two Alfieri hug in relief after their flag-waving display
jockeys need to have done their deals with one another. Until these have been agreed, they will not line up properly, and the last horse will not ride past the back rope. Each time they are ordered out they pair up, talking, heads shaking, shoulders shrugging, money promised, lots of it. Roberta Ferri is head of communication for Siena. Standing next to me on the Town Hall balcony where the media view the race, she points to the riders, as they file past us on their way from the warm-up area in an inner courtyard of the huge Town Hall to the start line. “Ten assassins, 10 mercenaries,” she says. “They each have a borsa.” A borsa is a bag and people have told me that in this imaginary bag each jockey has anything between €100,000 and €300,000 to do deals with the other riders. “You see them talking,” says Ferri. “They are on their own, no one else can listen to what they are up to. A tourist might think they are just chatting, but they are selling their souls in order to win, make a rival lose, or make a lot of money for themselves. And we have waited a whole year for this. Believe
me, this really matters to the people of Siena. Look, I have goosebumps!” She did indeed, and I could see she that had tears in her eyes too. So, what is the Palio? It goes back to 1260 when Siena’s army, 20,000 strong and reinforced by German knights and Saracen archers, was attacked by 35,000 soldiers from Florence. When Siena counter-attacked, dissident Florentine troops hacked off the hand of the Florence standard-bearer, causing it to fall to the ground. In those days, the standard was positioned near the commander of the army. If it was raised, all was well. The sight of the falling standard panicked the Florentine troops. Siena won and 10,000 died. The Palio is therefore an expression of martial prowess, of victory in war by all means, of unity in the face of adversity. Siena is a small city in Tuscany – it only has 54,000 inhabitants, and it is very, very beautiful. It is mostly pedestrianised and blessed with awe-inspiring architecture, soft light, and money. It boasts the second oldest university 51
in the world, which was founded in 1240 and publicly funded. The local bank, Monte dei Paschi di Siena was started in 1472 and since then it has devolved its dividends to the city. The city is divided into 17 contrade (boroughs). It elects its own Priore (mayor) and, crucially, a Capitano. The Priore looks after the running of the contrade, the Capitano is the military leader, in charge of the contrade participation in the Palio. Belonging to a contrada is for life. Children are baptised in the contrada fountain by the captain. They are looked after by older children and teenagers, they belong to sports clubs, and join the drumming and flag-waving fraternities that keep the traditional, and martial, spirit alive. Outsiders are not welcome. It’s their world, not a tourist attraction. Niels, our photographer, and I were introduced to the Contrada della Giraffa. We were allowed to take photographs at the dinner the night before the Palio: 1,200 contradaioli sitting outside the church of Santa Maria di Provenzano, four generations all sharing wine, pasta and meat. Children running around, queuing for the jockey’s autograph, watched over by alert teenagers and the benevolent eyes of elegant and poised older ladies. All around, young men were chanting and singing: unfamiliar rhythms, and words, old tunes, from the battles and fights that have defined this contrada’s history. Slow and quite chilling. And though our presence had been cleared, a few of the younger men gave us the stare. This scene was
repeated in the nine other contrades running in this Palio, all turning inwards to their history and pride, gathering strength for the battle of tomorrow. Meanwhile the horses are hidden deep in each contrada, guarded by men fanatically devoted to their well-being. These men don’t conform to the stereotypical image of the smart, suave, sophisticated Italian. Instead there are tattoos, bulging forearms, hard eyes. I had my first glimpse of them when walking around the backstreets on the evening before the Palio, in Selva territory. Suddenly, from within a small side courtyard some men emerged, followed by a beautiful grey horse, slight, muscly, nervy with alert eyes and a noble carriage. I and a few other passersby were roughly bundled out of the way by the horse’s escort. I was moved by the beauty of the Anglo-Arab grey horse. It’s called Fedora Saura, six previous Palios, one win. At nine years old, many felt it was out of the running. Its jockey is Silvano Mulas, 700 wins on the flat, but fewer than three laps completed over two Palios. The Capitano of each contrada will choose the jockey, based on performance in past years and how much money they want, to race. For the July 2 Palio, the horse was chosen and assigned on June 29 in the following way: it was made to gallop around the Palio course, three laps of the square, equal to 1,000m, watched by the Capitani. Even though there are 17 contrade, only 10 get to race each Palio (the second one is in August). So the racing Capitani choose the best 10 horses. These go into a hat, and in another go the names of the 10 contrade. Then each horse is paired with a different contrada, by chance. This is all done in the open, with many thousands of contradaioli watching. Joy and anguish follow: this year’s overwhelming favourite was the Nicchio contrada: the jockey had won the 11 Palios, the horse won last year. That combination could not lose. And, I was told, Nicchio was a very rich contrada. So, each contrada has just four days to get horse and jockey acquainted. The grooms and stables will be unfamiliar to the horse, and the jockey will have to work out how to get the best out of the horse, test its speed, courage, cornering ability. This is done in the prove, morning and evening. At each prova the horses will be positioned differently, some on the inside of the track, others further out, and the ‘outside’ 10th horse will also vary. Deals are being done each time the jockeys get near each other. Then, on race day, all the contrade go into a bottle-shaped device which, when turned upside down, will
Above left and right: Giraffa contradaioli gather to eat, and sing battle hymns. Left and right: The marching bands gather to the sound of drums while the horse is blessed in the Giraffa church
give the final starting order. These are written on a piece of paper and handed over to a policeman who holds his hand high so the whole 20,000-strong Piazza, which has fallen totally silent, can see the envelope at all times. He then hands it to the Mossiere and reads out the starting order. Once the names are read out, the horses file in between the ropes in their new order. Many of the deals that have been done are now void, hence more talking, pushing, hitting. Selva has been drawn right alongside Nicchio: there is much bumping and the grey horse is unwilling, or not being allowed to, line up at the starting rope. It has half-turned, the jockey keeping an eye on the 10th horse outside the ropes. In and out they go, for about 25 minutes. Most people have been here since 4pm, it’s now 8pm. It has been a long day already. Some contradaioli have been in the square since 5am, securing their places. At 6am, Niels stumbled upon a horse being walked in front of his secret stable, guarded only by two steel barriers. A man approached, his arms laden with breakfast for the groom and the other stable lads. Niels helpfully started to move the steel barrier aside: “No! Don’t touch! You don’t belong here!” The man was angry: “Go away, you just can’t understand!” A couple of hours later, Siena’s archbishop blessed the jockeys in Piazza Del Campo. It was noted that he made no mention of the Palio, not as in the race, but as in the banner that is given to the winning contrada. These are newly commissioned for each Palio: the artists have some connections to Siena and it is such a great honour that they do it for free. The silk banner is then kept in the contrada’s own museum. Siena, therefore, has 17 museums, full of inestimable gold, silver and paintings bequeathed by loyal contradaioli. This year the painter is Ali Hassoun, a Lebanese who came to Siena as a refugee and after studying art in the city’s academy, is now famous. His painting shows the Virgin Mary with middle eastern traits, above her is a verse from the Koran, praising her. Below her stands St George slaying an evil dragon. The saint was the patron of those Teutonic cavalrymen in 1260 and the presence of the Saracen archers is shown in the keffiyeh St George wears instead of a helmet. The archbishop was not happy about this non-catholic approach. The mayor, who commissioned the Palio from Ali Hassoun, rebuffed the archbishop, and the whole town has been a-buzz over this. At 3pm we are back at the Giraffa contrada, pushing our way into the small oratory where the horse will be blessed by the parish priest. Outsiders are decidedly not welcome, the small church is packed as the horse is led in by the usual posse of bodyguards. It is then solemnly blessed by the priest who also tells it to: “Go fight, come back the winner.” The horse seems unperturbed by the noise, smell of incense, this strange man whispering to him, and by the subsequent roar and chanting which accompanies it back to its stable. Outside the church, two flag wavers, the alfieri chosen by this contrada, are about to start the last practice for their routine. Dressed in costume, they wave the flags in intricate patterns, following the rhythm of the drum, and finally hurling them in the air, each catching the other’s flag. As soon as they finish their routine, they are buried by the crowd, women kissing, men bear-hugging, many are crying, others shouting. And so to Piazza del Campo, where at 5.15pm a group of mounted carabinieri canter into the square, beautifully aligned, riding erect and proud. One lap, two laps, the noise rises, something is about to happen. The lead carabiniere unsheathes his sabre, urges his horse to a gallop and charges ahead, the 54
Top left: Jubilation as Selva has won. Top right and left: Earlier the carabinieri paraded and then charged, roared on by the crowds
Joy and relief from the Selva people as the Anglo-Arab grey sprints to victory. Below left: Horses round the tight bend, the only spot with soft barriers. Top right: The winning jockey is carried shoulder high. Below: every bar in Siena is tuned to the Palio
sabre held straight ahead of him, the tip just ahead of the horse’s mane. Twenty-thousand throats roar, the Piazza is alive with the sound of war. The other carabinieri follow. It’s a full cavalry charge: it is magnificent and fearsome. The historical cortege starts at 5.20 and files past for two hours, the costumes magnificent, the flag-wavers, horses, drummers, page boys, archers, swordsmen all marching to the sound of the bell being struck by one man, at the top of the Torre del Mangia, which dominates the Piazza Del Campo, rising 102m and 500 narrow steps upwards. Now the flag-wavers come out once more. Each with their own drummer, different patterns, it takes concentration. Roberta Ferri is still beside me and as the alfieri line up with their flags she tells me: “Now it really begins.” I ask why. “Because the alfieri know what deals are going down, you can tell from how they wave their flags if it’s good for their contrada or not.” I say how the drumming is really quite powerful at setting the scene. “Drumming,” she says, “is the sound of war.” Finally the jockeys and their horses come out from under the Town Hall courtyard. On their way out, a policeman hands each one an ox-hide whip. There are no rules, you can hit and be hit. They go to the ropes. I am watching the Selva horse, ‘my’ horse, the one I met the evening I arrived in Siena. The Nicchio horse, the overwhelming favourite, is right next to it on the start rope. The noise is deafening, eventually the rope drops and they’re off. Down one side of the square, sharp right bend
into a short straight, then comes a 90-degree turn. This is the only place where there are protective barriers. Once they have got round this corner, it’s a long straight, uphill to the corner above which I am standing. It’s another tight right corner and one of the horses doesn’t make it. Horse and rider crash into the waist-high wooden barrier, behind which hundreds of people are sitting. The horse gets back up and carries on racing. The jockey is stunned, on the ground. Dozens of hands reach out from the crowd and pull him over the barriers. Just in time, as the horses have come round once more and they are about to negotiate the same bend. The first four get through unscathed, Selva and Nicchio are there, but the horse without a rider clips the inside barrier and goes tumbling head over hoofs: the Giraffa horse ploughs into him and two more behind also go down. It all happens so quickly, there’s horses, jockeys, reins, hooves everywhere. Again the hands from the crowd grab what they can. Two horses get up, the third does not. It lies there, legs in the air, head and neck bent at a strange angle. People around me are screaming: “Noooo! Not the horse! Please, not the horse.” And around again come the remaining horses, thundering past the stricken one which still has not moved. A man jumps over the barriers, horses thundering past him as he grabs the tail of the prone horse. He yanks hard and amazingly the horse springs up, shakes itself and is lead away. Meanwhile the Selva horse is second and attacks the leading horse down the starting straight, which is downhill. Silvano Mulas eases the grey Anglo-Arab alongside the leader. The other jockey, who has been in front for most of the race, is not going down without a fight. And fight he does, hitting the Selva horse and Mulas over and over with his whip, stopping only when the grey powers past him. The race is over, thousands of people jump over the barriers to cheer, commiserate, protect their horse and jockeys. There is still so much tension and there are bloody noses and flying elbows as everyone is running to capture the moment when hundreds of hands lift the winning jockey from the horse and then carry him all the way back to their contrada, where the celebrations will go on all night. And that’s it. Well, until August, when it will start all over again. It has been a great, great spectacle with depth, drama and skulduggery. Not a sport, that’s for sure. Not fair play, that’s also for sure. But then again, to quote John Lyly, a 16th-century English writer: “The rules of fair play do not apply in love and war.” Siena agrees wholeheartedly. For details of the Palio including the schedule of the second race in August visit: www.ilpalio.org or www.aboutsiena.com
kid Returning to form after injury, Levi Sherwood aims for new heights as the Red Bull X-Fighters perform to a sell-out crowd in Moscow’s Red Square Words: Justin Hynes
Late afternoon and Red Square is still baking in a 30-degree plus heatwave. In a corner of the square a small group of off-duty Russian soldiers loosen the buttons of their heavy wool jackets and take photos of each other in front of the ice-cream-cone domes of St Basil’s Cathedral. Behind them a horde of Japanese tourists breathlessly circles the basilica. As they reach the rear of it, they let out a collective sigh of appreciation as they catch sight of a very different cathedral being constructed in the space by Russia’s most recognisable landmark. A huge playground of earth and steel is slowly taking shape. It’s being readied for a competition that will, three days later, bring 12 of the world’s finest freestyle motocross riders out in front of 40,000 fans for the third instalment of what has, over the past 10 years, become FMX’s toughest competition. For now, though, the arena is relatively quiet. Only the clang of construction and the drone of the diggers relentlessly 58
shaping and reshaping the towering dirt jumps ring through the heavy air. At the top of the course, in the riders’ area, the same torpor holds. The riders have retreated from the sun. Here today to prepare their bikes, mentally map the course and plan the sequence of gravity-defying tricks they’ll launch over the next few days, most are now sheltering in their respective garages. Which is how Levi Sherwood is found, the young rider tucked deep into the corner of his garage and picking through a pile of bike gear. Sherwood is one of the sport’s brightest prospects. Just 18 years of age, he’s been throwing himself and his bike 15m in the air over distances of 35m since he was just 12, joining the pro Crusty tour in Australia aged 14. Last year, with regular rider Jeremy Stenberg injured, Sherwood received a last-minute invitation to the opening round of the Red Bull X-Fighters World Tour in Mexico City – a different
en.redbulletin.com/print2.0 See the Red Bull X-Fighters rocking Red Square in Moscow
Top of the pile: Levi Sherwood celebrates his victory in front of the St Basilâ€™s Cathedral
environment altogether. Here the riders are under constant pressure. It’s no longer a show run, cycling through tricks simply for the entertainment value. In this arena riders are pitted against each other under scrutiny from five professional judges. There’s a title at stake. It’s a pretty big step up. But Sherwood, who had been training with 2008 champion Mat Rebeaud and recommended by the Swiss star, won at the first time of asking. It was a remarkable debut and insiders immediately leapt to proclaim the young New Zealander as the future of FMX. If he could dismiss some of the sport’s major stars such as Robbie Maddison and Nate Adams with such facility, anything was surely possible. Possible, though, is not actual. A catalogue of minor injuries followed Sherwood’s Mexico win and he drifted out of championship contention to the point that, as soon as American Nate Adams had taken the Tour title at the
season finale in London, Sherwood was off, headed for hospital and major knee surgery. It would sideline him for the next sixth months. “Last year was pretty messy,” he sighs. “I went from the biggest high [in Mexico] to some pretty low lows. I managed to finish the year on a good note in London, so was pretty happy with that, but before that if I wasn’t missing events through injury I was going to them and picking up injuries.” This March, though, Sherwood climbed back on a bike for the first time, determined to relaunch himself on the world stage, with a Red Bull X-Fighters crown as the goal. “Within the first day of riding I was at the same level I had been before the surgery, at least in terms of being able to do the tricks,” he says. “But after that there’s just a feeling of not being as comfortable as you were before. You can’t really predict as much what’s going to happen with the bike. That’s the biggest
Young gun: After his remarkable winning debut in Mexico, Sherwood had problems, but he’s fought back
Lighting Up London Red Bull X-Fighters returns to London on August 14 for the fifth round of the series, the penultimate opportunity for the world’s wildest FMX stars to stake their claim to the 2010 title. And once again, Battersea Power Station will host this most electric of sporting events. Last year London had pride of place as the season finale and it more than lived up to expectations. The huge power station course provided Red Bull X-Fighters with one of the most dramatic finishes of its decade-long existence. As the searchlights illuminated the arena and the noise level from the capacity crowd rose to deafening proportions, no fewer than four riders – Nate Adams, Robbie Maddison, Eigo Sato and Mat Rebeaud – had a real chance of taking the overall title. In the end, though, the momentum was firmly with US rider Nate Adams. After a slow start to the year, Adams had peaked at just the right time, winning the third round in Fort Worth, Texas, and taking second in Madrid. In inspired form, there was no stopping Adams, and one by one the title rivals fell away until it was just Adams versus close friend Robbie Maddison in the final. With a flawless and truly thrilling run, Adams dismissed Tower Bridge jump star Maddison to take the title. And this year is guaranteed to be even more thrilling. The championship is too close to call: after four rounds just a handful of points separates the top three. The course, too, is bigger and better than the last – an even more challenging sandpit for the riders to show off their skills. The outcome of the title race will have to wait for one more event, but one thing’s for sure – when the Red Bull X-Fighters roll into Battersea, they’re guaranteed to provide fireworks for a second time.
Teenage kicks: Just 18 years old, Sherwood has worked hard this year to deliver bigger and better flips than ever
PHOTOGRAPHY: JOERG MITTER/GLOBAL-NEWSROOM (2), BALAZS GARDI/GLOBAL-NEWSROOM (1), PREDRAG VUCKOVIC/GLOBAL-NEWSROOM (1)
“I’m always trying new things.
I’ve got one idea I’m 90 per cent sure I can do, but 10 per cent think is impossible” thing, just being able to feel the bike and work with it. Feeling nimble on the bike. You’re riding it, it’s not riding you. “The other thing is that if I don’t do some of the backflips for a while I’ll get scared,” he adds. “So now I make a point of doing those. It happened after Egypt this year. I just knuckled down and did them. There were a lot of flip tricks I was uncomfortable with so I just went out and did 10 in a row.” With the series now in its 10th year and firmly established as the sport’s premier competition, the pressure to deliver newer, bigger and better tricks is intense, tantamount to an arms race in which riders spend weeks testing new ideas in specially constructed foam pits in a quest for any kind of edge at the next round. Sherwood admits that the pressure to deliver is there but that the development of wilder tricks is part of progressing the sport. “When you ride you get bored with doing the same stuff,” he smiles. “I’m always trying to come up with new things. At the moment I have got one idea, which I’ve seen a lot of BMX riders do, but I’m really not sure if it’s possible. It’s just an idea. I’m 90 per cent sure I can
do it but 10 per cent think it’s impossible. I’ll get back to you on it…” Before that, though, there’s the small matter of round three in Moscow. Before now, Sherwood’s return to competition had been a case of steady, but low-key progress. Seventh in Mexico became fifth in front of Egypt’s pyramids in round two. On that form he could be expected to climb onto the podium for the first time in Moscow. In qualifying, it becomes rapidly clear that Sherwood’s post-Giza grind has paid off. There’s none of the nervy stiffness he showed in the opening rounds. Instead there’s a fluid confidence to his tricks, coupled with a verve and aggression missing from the dog days of Sherwood’s 2009 season. The performance is repeated on Saturday night. In the final, Sherwood meets Nate Adams. The 2009 tour champion and one of the sport’s biggest stars up against an 18-year-old kid with see-sawing form and a long comeback trail behind him? Foregone conclusion. Except that Sherwood is on fire this time, matching the aggression and brio with a crowd-pleasing showmanship that he has previously regarded as a
sideshow to the business end of the sport. Adams folds, his run a pale shadow of his usual ultra-focused style. Sherwood is back, and how. “I do think I’ve changed a bit in the last year,” he reflects. “What I’ve noticed the most is how I feel at these competitions. I’m just a lot more relaxed. Last year I think I’d waste the whole week before a competition worrying about it. I’d worry about the course and how it would be set up and whether I’d be able to compete well. Now I leave all that behind. “I don’t care who’s watching me, who I’m up against. I won’t even watch the other rider’s run. I just go out and do my own stuff.” The sport, though, moves on. Madrid follows in mid-July: a two-day competition that this year features a wild-card competition for young stars trying to break into the big league – just as Sherwood once did. Now though, he’s established, a 2010 winner and looking for more. London beckons. “London was my favourite contest last year,” he smiles. It had everything, the atmosphere, the people. It was just incredible. I think I finally cracked it there. It was the first time I really felt comfortable with the competition. I realised in London that this is quite a special thing for me. Not too many people get the opportunity to do the sport they love, ride all the time and travel a lot as a job. It’s pretty special.” Moscow highlights at en.redbulletin/print2.0 Find Red Bull X-Fighters news and info, tour dates and tickets at www.redbullxfighters.com
The Last Great Rock ’n’ Roll Band Kasabian will tell you that they are the rightful heirs to the Stones and Oasis. Fans say their highenergy shows are the best in the world. So with home festivals to headline, what’s left to prove? Words: Nick Amies Photography: Benita Lipps 62
T Additional Photography: Goedefroit Music
Crowd control: Tom Meighan wows the audience in Belgium in May this year; the band (above) on tour
om Meighan bounces from room to room backstage at the Ancienne Belgique like a hyperactive Cocker Spaniel who can hear his favourite toy being rattled but can’t locate it. Eventually the Kasabian frontman loses interest in the hunt and flops down in a plastic chair, his eyes wide and a huge playful grin running riot over his stubbled face. He is affability personified; a charming and engaging host full of warm greetings and positivity. Intermittently he’ll cock his ear as if receiving signals from the great beyond and then suddenly leap up, whooping and punching the air, to pace the room as a train of thought sprints away with his mind and mouth in pursuit. It’s tiring to watch, but the singer has energy to burn as he waxes lyrical about his band in paradoxes that reflect his own. “We still have it as large as we always have, regardless of whether it’s a stadium or a small club,” he says, rearranging the litter on the changing room counter. “It’s like two titans fighting up there when we get going, like He-Man versus Skeletor... it’s the musical Masters of the Universe. It’s a battle; it’s dark and nasty but also beautiful, warm and full of life. Just like us, really.” Kasabian have been fighting with darkness and light since forming in 1999. It took four years of playing dingy working men’s clubs and tiny venues before the band were ready to give their riotous music to the world. “Of course we wanted to make it big,” Tom says, getting serious for moment. “But it had to be right. We wanted to shake people up and 63
“We wanted it so bad. we still do”
keep them shook up for a long time. We weren’t going to be able to do that if we’d rushed out a load of shite and then sank without trace. We wanted it so bad. We still do. We’re still the same as we were when we were driving our own van, playing a gig every night, trying to get noticed. We’re the same people.” This everyman statement is quite a contrast to the one Kasabian made in the wake of last year’s Oasis split, when Tom and his lieutenant, guitarist Serge Pizzorno, announced that now that the Gallagher’s’ partnership was no more, theirs was the biggest band in Britain. “What we meant was that we’re one of the last great rock ’n’ roll bands,” Tom clarifies, getting to his feet as if he’s about to deliver a sermon. “There are so few real bands around these days that we feel it’s our responsibility to pick up that baton which was carried by the likes of The Beatles, The Stones, The Small Faces and Oasis and do our bit for the legacy. We owe it to Britain’s musical heritage.” Just how seriously Kasabian take their selfappointed role as standard-bearers for British rock can be seen on their third album, West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum. The band’s most critically acclaimed and successful record to date, West Ryder is a raging, rollicking mish-mash of styles and experiments. Its ambition, scope and musicianship have since elevated Kasabian to the big league. The album was not only celebrated by the public – it was their first UK number one – the critics also had their say, nominating it for the 2009 Mercury Music Prize. “We just wanted to do something mental with the style, the clothes and the music,” Tom enthuses, beaming like a proud father when he talks about West Ryder. “We wanted to dress up as French 64
Me plus three: Tom Meighan on stage in Belgium with band members…
revolutionaries and make one of those iconic records like the psychedelic concept albums of the ’60s; full of love, heroes and shady characters. It’s been a real trip, man.” The album has taken the band on a yearlong extensive world tour which finally returns to British shores in August. Kasabian will headline the 2010 V Festival on August 21 and 22, and the response they get on their homecoming will give them some indication as to where they stand in the hearts of the people and whether they’re on the way to joining the greats they aspire to emulate. “We’ve been away from home for quite a while,” Tom says. “We’ve done a few shows back in Britain as part of this tour, but this will be the big finale. We were blown away by the response we had at Glastonbury last year and I think we really proved that we could take a huge crowd. When we roll up this summer it’ll be like, ‘Remember us?’ And then it’ll kick off. It’ll be mental. I’m buzzing just thinking about it now.” At that point, the wiry frame of Serge Pizzorno slides through the unfeasibly narrow gap in the door, prompting the singer to leap from his chair and start flicking his fingers in the guitarist’s face. Tom is the cherubic Jagger to Serge’s elegantly wasted Richards, a classic rock double-act of creativity and friendship. What’s interesting is how the dynamic changes when Serge enters the room. The infectiously confident Meighan suddenly becomes the younger brother, instantly gravitating to the guitarist and principle songwriter and hanging expectantly on what he has to say. “You owe me a rematch,” the guitarist drawls, prompting another blast of jigging from the singer. The game console beckons and Serge leads his frontman
… Serge Pizzorno on guitar, Chris Edwards on bass and Ian Matthews on drums. The band have been on a year-long world tour which finally returns to British shores in August
away to a room where parity has to be restored through a titanic struggle of computerised football. Football. For musicians, tapping into terrace culture can help their music reach a wider audience and few current rock acts have so successfully blended fan bases as Kasabian. The handy celebrities in a five-a-side team, the dyed-in-the-wool Leicester City fans generate a euphoric atmosphere akin to match day at their shows with bouncing fans and stadium chanting. The links run deeper: Serge had schoolboy trials with Nottingham Forest. Kasabian and The Beautiful Game go hand in hand. “I’m Leicester City first, then England,” Tom says proudly. “We all are. Serge even wore Leicester socks under his Forest kit when he was a boy. We try and get to see the Foxes as often as we can when we’re home, which is a real pleasure and pain thing. But that’s what being a fan is about – being there for the club in the good and bad times, even though with Leicester there are more bad than good…” Kasabian’s credentials as Britain’s premier soccerrockers were further enhanced in February when the English Football Association chose the band to launch the England team’s World Cup shirt at a gig at the Paris Olympia. While Tom was honoured to do so, he had reservations about the location. “I told them that it was all on their heads,” he confides. “If it backfires, it’s all on you. If they riot, I want you to get us out. But it was OK. There were a few boos, but then we played another song and it was all sweet.” There are no boos a few hours later when the Leicester lunatics take over another in a long list of asylums. From the opening bars of the stomping ‘Fast Fuse’, it’s clear that this is not going to be a sedate evening of toe-tapping. The pit directly centre-stage is soon a writhing mass of bodies. In addition to crowd pleasers such as ‘Underdog’, ‘Fire’ and ‘Fast Fuse’ from their third album, Kasabian unleash a never-ending stream of rousing favourites from West Ryder’s two predecessors, their eponymously titled debut and follow-up Empire. The audience threatens spontaneous combustion when the band hit them with the triple whammy of ‘Processed Beats’, ‘Reason is Treason’ and ‘Julie and the Mothman’; the sweaty crowd ebbing and flowing against the crash barriers as Tom – in a stripy sweater and gargantuan fly shades – commands the waves like a deranged King Canute. Beside him, Serge – a study of skinny vintage rock clobber and headband – strangles riffs from his guitar and backing vocals from his shredded throat while the rhythm section of bassist Chris Edwards and drummer Ian Matthews anchor the glorious chaos with infectious beats. It’s a 90-minute dancerock onslaught which leaves the crowd exhausted. Backstage, Tom is more wired than ever. Everyone in his vicinity gets a hug and an offer of a beer, which he soon forgets in favour of a manic flick through the band’s CD collection followed by an extensive poll of ideas for the evening’s post-gig entertainment. “Are we heading out?” he asks. “Come on Serge, are you mad for it?” The party looks far from over. Kasabian live it like they love it. See Kasabian headline at V Festival on August 21 and 22 at Hylands Park and Weston Park: www.vfestival.com
RED BULL AIR RACE
A Hudson Love Story
Wow! Can you believe that? It’s like a swarm of giant bees is buzzing around New York’s legendary skyline
photography: Nick Laham/Getty Images for Red Bull Air Race
Words: Herbert Völker
en.redbulletin.com/print2.0 Fly through the skies of New York
o the right, the Statue of Liberty; behind it Staten Island and Brooklyn; on the left, Manhattan, with the full vehemence of its monuments; and in the middle, the illustrious Hudson River. The spectator is enveloped in pleasure as he pieces together his own panorama, focusing on the details, scanning in a postcard of his perception and filing it away in a folder of happy memories. New York is a place that defies cynicism, my knowledgeable colleague Stephen Bayley wrote recently in these pages. Hearing this helps illuminate finely many things. Things like the Sex and the City phenomenon. We think of it as a nice home movie without taking a moment to stop and compare it to Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Overcoming 9/11 has turned into pragmatic everyday business, even though at a security level unheard of before. New Yorkers have become used to being frisked wherever they go, without a scrap of bad feeling. So it’s not surprising that 16 independent authorities from New York and New Jersey, from Homeland Security and the Liberty State Park administrators to the US Coast Guard, from the Newark Fire Department to the Marine Unit of the New York Police Department came to the joint decision that the Red Bull Air Race should not only get the green light, but should receive a hearty welcome. What they really wanted to say was this: anything is possible in this town, as always, and of course we want to celebrate again and fly the flag. And yes, there’s no problem with the flight path for the low-level approach passing close to the Statue of Liberty; what a fantastic image for spectators, filmmakers and photographers, how could we refuse?
éter Besenyei, the guiding light of this sport from its very first moment, remembers that in the middle of Europe, 24 authorities had to agree before he was permitted to chart the art of what’s possible in the air. No one talked of a race, let alone a race
series or a world championship. Eventually, they allowed the pilot to fly under Budapest’s Chain Bridge. It’s almost 10 years ago now that experienced professionals showed how they conquer such feats and subsequently got the go-ahead to perform the extraordinary – above Botafogo beach in Rio (one million people!); in the mythical desert of Monument Valley; with the backdrop of the mighty Eiger and Jungfrau in Switzerland; in Abu Dhabi; above London’s Docklands; and the romantic classic – where the Danube forms the two banks of Budapest. And now, the Hudson River separating New York and New Jersey. On Race Day you witness the Top 12
“In this city, everything is possible” battling it out for a place in the Super 8, then the Final 4 go for glory: that’s 24 flights. From start to finish it’s a good 70 seconds, each “a furious bumblebee in the jam jar” as British pilot Nigel Lamb would say. In fact, it’s a three-minute experience, from the appearance of the plane in front of the Statue of Liberty to the elegant swoop towards Brooklyn. Approaching the start gate at almost 250mph (400kph) the pilots head straight for a very young building that looks rather like a colossal Remington razor and carries the name of an investment bank that’s currently in the headlines. The pilot has to aim for this electric shaver so that the clock starts running – in the mind always “ahead of your aircraft”. There’s no other way to cope with an Air Race, and certainly not though this compact three-mile course with its unbelievably tight turns. And as stunning as the panorama is for
photography: Hamish Blair/Getty Images for Red Bull Air Race
Floating fans: The best seats in the house were on the water
he Red Bull Air Race over the Hudson River of New York was a pinnacle in the six-year history of the world’s fastest growing motorsport, as the figures for spectator attraction and worldwide perception attest. There are a couple of other reasons to love the Hudson. With its five city districts, four of which are islands (the Bronx is the only one that belongs to the mainland), New York is surrounded by the Atlantic and waterways, and the Hudson River is the predominant body of water lending this city its atmosphere. It could have been the heroic emergency landing of Captain Chesley Sullenberger of Flight US 1549 that made nonAmericans more aware, but the locals 70
don’t need any explanation. It’s not only that this river is a place for the busiest business transfers from Manhattan to New Jersey via tunnel or ferry (with the semi-relaxed acceptance of traffic jams over or under the water), it’s also about the river itself, with its exquisite riverside paths running to the east and west, and also the whole drama of the revival of water courses that, for decades, has given a picture of history. The miracle of four different currents each day, how the sea swashes into the river, swills 120 miles upstream, and how the river fights back. Now let’s talk about Manhattan’s Hudson Park side. Your seasoned sports reporter has never seen firmer calf muscles than here: 80 per cent women, 20 per cent Ronaldos. Obviously, when talking about ‘running’ in New York, one thinks of scuffling around Central Park, but the sinewy structure of the calves at the Hudson is definitely Premier League. At five miles long, the Hudson River Park covers most of the west flank of Lower Manhattan, and instead of putting up new houses behind the Pier area, they cultivated sports fields, from small badminton courts to ice hockey halls for eight-year-olds, who give themselves valiant names like ‘Team Canada’ against ‘Team Russia’. For bodychecks you’ve still got to be over 14. On the opposite bank, 10 minutes via the Holland tunnel, 20 minutes with the ferry, is New Jersey. Here, as well, the Hudson waterfront has been lovingly preserved and kitted out for exercise. The hinterland is a bit messy, with skyscrapers growing wildly and people who can’t find a greengrocer’s as quickly as they’d like. The great oasis of tranquillity is the Liberty State Park. The Railroad Terminal, mothballed long ago, is like a glasshouse, the platforms left to sprout with grasses, ferns and bushes. As if nothing has changed, the signs are still there: Philadelphia Express via Wall Street, dep. 5:42pm. That’s at least 30 years ago. Right next door, on a hot Sunday at Liberty State Park, the grassy slopes at the New York Bay gave a wide open view into a unique arena of swift, low-level flight. On this remarkable day, The Hudson was the only thing to stay perfectly calm. Watch the race in New York at en.redbulletin.com/print2.0 News, results and event calendar at www.redbullairrace.com
“There are a few reasons to love the Hudson”
Big apples in the Big Apple for the top three in the Red Bull Air Race in New York: Paul Bonhomme, Nigel Lamb and Kirby Chambliss
RED BULL AIR RACE
World Championship Ranking after the New York race 1. Paul Bonhomme 53 points 2. Hannes Arch 48 points 3. Nigel Lamb 47 points 4. Kirby Chambliss 35 points 5. Pete McLeod 29 points 6. Nicolas Ivanoff 26 points 7. Michael Goulian 24 points 8. Matt Hall 22 points 9. Matthias Dolderer 21 points 10. Péter Besenyei 18 points 11. Alejandro Maclean 7 points 12. Yoshihide Muroya 5 points 1 3. Sergey Rakhmanin 4 points 14. Martin Šonka 1 point 1 5. Adilson Kindlemann 0 points
GBR AUT GBR USA CAN FRA USA AUS GER HUN ESP JPN RUS CZE BRA
the winners 2010 ABU DHABI PERTH RIO DE JANEIRO WINDSOR (CAN) NEW YORK
Paul Bonhomme Hannes Arch Hannes Arch Hannes Arch Paul Bonhomme
GBR AUT AUT AUT GBR
The last stop EUROSPEEDWAY Lausitz
photography: Dean Mouhtaropoulos/Getty Images for Red Bull Air Race, Markus Kucera/Red Bulletin (5)
the spectators, the pilots have a somewhat more restricted view of the flight plan. During the days of preparation, Hannes Arch, Paul Bonhomme, Nigel Lamb and the entire clever squad have paid tribute to the Statue of Liberty and its skyline, but now: Smoke On. That’s the all-clear from the tower, an imperative statement of the Red Bull Air Race World Championship, an old ritual of aerobatic pilots, to feed the engine with a pinch of paraffin, enriching the drama of their figures with trails of smoke. The pilot forgets about New York, and when the horizon tips to the right or left during a vertical side slip it has nothing to do with New Jersey or the upside-down Empire State Building, but with the unbelievable reflexes of flying at its finest. The Battle of G-force is not in the least bit romantic at 1215m above the surface of the Hudson. This incredible proximity to water or earth is ripping past at the same speeds everywhere, and the Danube isn’t any softer than the Hudson, nor is the arena in the Lausitz. Video walls show onboard close-ups: how physics drags at the pilots when they pull out of a 180-degree turn with a load 10-times their body weight (in extreme cases up to 12G) – you see this only in their – how shall we say – stretched facial features and distended eyes when blood is forced from the head to the legs. What’s happening in the abs can only be guessed at by those who have experienced the stomach rising into the throat on a rollercoaster ride. That sensation is about a quarter of the regular G-forces in an Air Race.
Aviation history: Hannes Arch in the first Red Bull Air Race in New York
Street star The first photo the author took of Francois April
s i s E i R h t D CO R A H
ift kesh n’s a m n w ne. O f Cape To d e c s X o rl e BM ts – one n the wo l y t s a ee si Fl cene SA f r he Cape s e X h t t M forge ed from robust B d e p g l , r e he ted iders Morta em commit olesky r o w 0s, t nd Nigel the most n & Craig K 9 9 1 o a f early ois April ate one o iles Masters e h t c e In Fran s – to cr tography: M , s e k a bi re Pho est a asterson r o o p M i le s ds: M Wor
irst Encounters You can’t tell the story of Fran and Nigel without providing the gritty context. Two personal experiences bear testament to the obstacles these guys overcame to simply ride their bikes. It was 2001 and, as editor and main photographer of a now-defunct board sport/music magazine called Blunt, I knew of Nigel’s exploits. BMX was appearing more often in our mag; the Flats riders like Nigel and Fran were usually the main stars of our photo spreads – when we could get shots of them. I’d arranged to meet at Nigel’s dwelling in a cul de sac in one of the rougher parts of the Flats. But there was a problem, the dreadlocked rider told us softly as he emerged from his yard, still covered in paint from a morning’s subcontracting work. Gangsters had stolen his bike. Nigel then headed down the crumbling sidewalk toward the ubiquitous red brick, public housing tenements that dominate the area. He returned, pushing his ride and holding the front wheel. One of the local kingpins, jealous of Nigel’s coverage (and no doubt his skills on his bike), had taken it from his backyard. It took massive diplomacy from Nigel to retrieve his bike. Obviously relieved, he whipped out a spanner and soon pronounced it just OK enough to ride. We all climbed in my small pick-up and headed out of the ghettoes toward the sanctity of their hidden trails – suitably called ‘Camo’s’ – which they had painstakingly built in the foothills of the Cape Peninsula mountain range a few kilometres away. The second, earlier tale involves the first time I met Francois April. It was 1999 and we were keen to shoot some dirt riding for the mag. Fran, however, insisted he wanted to ride street, so we went in search of spots. He attempted some tricks in the affluent suburb of Claremont but, being a Saturday morning, traffic and pedestrians thwarted us. Unimpressed by his abilities so far and irritated with the choice of venue,
the session was beginning to look like a waste of time. Perhaps sensing this and clearly vexed, Fran suggested we check out the handrail at the local train station. When we got there the sheer volume of commuters made riding impossible. Then Fran vanished…. Reacting to an excited whoop above, I turned instinctively to snap what would become our first published photo of Fran, a 3m bomb drop to flat straight off the roof of an adjacent bus terminus. He landed it clean on the tarmac and rode by with a huge grin. An unbelievable move. Not too long afterwards at Camo’s I witnessed these guys doing the same tricks as the overseas crew were doing at the 1999 X Games – all with the same style, amplitude and flow as the sport’s superstars. One guy, Percy Jurgens, was even doing huge airs on a vert ramp with no seat. Cape Flats Origins and the UDX Francois himself can’t recall exactly when he was exposed to BMX, but credits his childhood friend Graham Solomon as being the one who began to use his bike for more than just transport. By early 1994, says Francois, what he calls the “new-school culture of BMX” had germinated on the Cape Flats. It was totally isolated from the rest of the world and influenced mostly by hip-hop culture. “BMX was almost like B-Boying for us in the ghettos. If you could do the most [flatland] 360s in the road, then you were the best.” Bike components were also hard to come by and the guys subsequently developed a barter system. “No one had money for anything, so the only way you could make your bike different or for more stoke to ride was to make a deal for it. That’s how we used to get parts.” While competing in some BMX race meets, Fran hooked up with a few white
Francois April: “BMX was almost like B-Boying for us. If you could do the most 360s you were the best”
Nigel Morta: “To ride a bicycle, it’s just the pleasure you get from it”
riders, including Garth Carnell – credited by Fran as the ‘Godfather’ of SA freestyle – and John Coetzee. “They were very grass roots,” remembers John, “underprivileged; and to me it was like if they can ride without brakes they must be hard core.” Encouraged by their friendly nature and fearless approach to riding street, John resolved to assist them. “I thought I have to help these guys, it doesn’t matter what it takes.” Being a relatively well-off farmer’s son, John was ideally positioned to become a benefactor. “I take my hat off to John and Garth,” says Fran. “They offered us transport, showed us overseas videos… ja, they played a big role.” Though through improvisation, largely from Graham’s backyard engineering ingenuity, the Cape Flats riders had already begun to modify their bikes (using engine pistons welded to their bikes as rudimentary pegs, for example). John and Garth would also save up money and import better bikes and parts for them. “Even if they couldn’t afford it themselves,” says John, “we would give it them, because it was really important for them to go further.” Now firm friends, they founded the ‘UDX’ or ‘Unorthodox’ crew. “We decided we might as well start our own group and even made our own T-shirts,” says Garth. “Most of my friends were non-white,” he adds, recalling how after one latenight street session the cops followed them back to his house. “They wanted to see what we were doing. They thought that we had stolen the bikes, but I said, no these are my friends and we are just riding.” In turn, John was told by police 73
to leave the townships if he went there, and was also heckled by the residents of the mostly Afrikaans small towns outside of Cape Town whenever they sessioned there. “I was frowned upon,” he explains, “they would look at me in my farm truck with 10 bicycles in the back with coloureds in the front and back. But y’know, whatever.”
Buddy Chellan: “Francois and Nigel definitely had a big influence on me. They opened a lot of doors”
A Growing Rep The UDX crew also travelled around the country, mostly on John’s dime, utilising their growing friends among the tight, colour-blind South African BMX freestyle fraternity for places to crash. Through this, tales of their abilities and inherent toughness began to spread. John recounts how, when riding a bank to fence in the country city of Bloemfontein, Graham slammed on his face, cutting it badly. “We took him to hospital and they stitched him up,” says John. “And then when we got back to the spot, man, he rode it again. And the Bloemfontein guys are like, are you guys crazy? And we were like, no we just want to ride. They always had to push the envelope, to better themselves.” Another younger rider who benefited hugely from their direct mentorship was a Cape Flats kid called Buddy Chellan, who at 26 is now a Red Bull team member and has travelled overseas to ride and is one of the best freestylers in South Africa. Also from a broken home, he recalls how he moved around a lot and also used his bike to get from A to B, but he was soon exposed to Fran, Nigel and co. “Everybody was talking about
them,” says Buddy. “Coloured kids on a bike, you hardly ever saw that.” Buddy describes the first day he saw them riding dirt: “I can still remember it, vividly clear, the stuff I saw and the riding level... it opened up a whole new riding style for me, because when I was young it wasn’t about videos or magazines, it was basically seeing and trying it for yourself. So to see them on the trails and riding street... they definitely had a big influence on me and I’m sure they played a big role to everybody in South Africa. They opened a lot of doors for us.” Death, Sponsorship and Drugs Just before I met Francois for our first photo shoot in ’99, Graham Solomon had died. Before Garth and John came along, the two friends had developed a technique of hanging onto buses and trucks to get to spots, but, says Fran now, Graham had taken it too far and was towing on the freeways at speeds over 60mph (100kph). Francois had warned him to slow down, to no avail. “He was on his way to my house, but he got run over by a truck,” says Francois, adding that it saddens him that Graham never got to see how the scene he helped create eventually grew
Past meets present (clockwise from left): In the absence of any decent ramps in his neighbourhood Francois used this chunked out bridge, cracking out tricks like it was a real halfpipe; Nigel Morta takes to the air on a day spent riding a ramp with Buddy Chellan
Riding for fun Francois tackles the wall at John Coetzeeâ€™s 1610 skatepark, Kraaifontien, circa 2002
Their goal was always to ride for the freedom and he never got any recognition. But, he says, Graham’s passing also strengthened his resolve. “Graham was my inspiration,” says Francois. “He was the one who said to me that I must take this seriously. He put a lot of emphasis on me becoming the rider I am today.” For a time, it seemed like Francois’s ambitions, and to a slightly lesser degree those of the rest of his crew, would be fulfilled. From 2001 onwards, through continued coverage in Blunt magazine and in our videos, and a forceful presence in the BMX free-riding and contest scene he, Nigel and Percy (though the latter two were always more reticent of the spotlight) and others attained sponsorship, including from John, who was by then involved in the skate industry. They were flown to demos and events around South Africa and everywhere they went other riders and the public were astounded by their abilities. They even so impressed Joe Rich, visiting owner of US bike company Terrible One, he gave Nigel his bike and sent them gear for a while. It seemed only a matter of time before someone would pay to send them overseas to compete alongside the world’s best. But it never happened. These days, Francois is open about why, at least for him. “I got involved in drugs,” he says. “So I have myself to blame for it.” He describes how at one event he and one of the other riders went to smoke a ‘button’ (mandrax) beforehand and they would get high and drunk all the time, even on photo shoots. “We were all drugkoppe (drugheads),” he blurts. Partly as a result, they became unreliable, failing to appear at demos or competitions. But the reasons for this also run deeper. Though he accepts that the way he managed his career is partly to blame, Francois adds that though he was on salary for a time and got plenty of free product, they also felt a bit used. This led to frustration and is also why they never
Impossible angle Francois rides the wall at, Muizenberg beachfront, one of the favourite haunts for him and the author to go for photoshoots
wholly embraced riding for a living. “I was getting coverage in all the magazines with stickers everywhere,” he laments. “But I never got anything for it.” Moreover, besides Francois, who for a while sought all the perceived glory of media coverage and sponsorship, their primary goal was always to ride for the freedom and the sake of it and not be restricted by the limitations of contests. Indeed, they would often reject events to go and ride street or hit up their beloved dirt jumps alone. “We were never ones to conform to the norm,” concurs Nigel, who despite his talent on dirt, never aspired to being a ‘pro’ rider with enthusiasm. “I wanted to go to my own little world and BMX provided that for me, the escape.” Clean now for three years and these days a boilermaker by trade, Fran becomes pensive when asked if he regrets the way things turned out. “I used to think about it a lot you know; but I understand now it wasn’t about the limelight. At the time I thought it was like that, ‘Ja, I must be at the X Games.’ I was very competitive. I felt that if I’d been there I could have definitely made it into the top five, so in a way I do. But if think what I did get out of it, I gained
20 years. Some people don’t even do it for three years. I am in the bush every weekend building jumps. I’m still into it man, it’s a lifestyle for me.” Present and Future “To ride a bicycle, it’s just the pleasure you get from it,” echoes Nigel. Stoked to be reunited for a shoot after many years, he and I sit on the steps at a Cape Town street spot they are sessioning with Francois and Buddy Chellan, who despite a sore back, is pleased to be riding with his heroes and is determined to land a 180 over a rail for our photographer. Previously, Fran had told me that, like most of them, Nigel had come from a rough background, he’d lost his mother and was forced to work as a painter to help support his family, which includes an autistic younger brother. Nigel explains to me how the realities of life to a degree got in the way of his riding ambitions, but that he will never give up. “So ja, responsibilities, family and work. But riding for me will always be like that old man you see with a surfboard: he can’t stop going back to the ocean, the calling is too great, the stoke.” More BMX at en.redbulletin.com/sowetosessions
Photography: Oliver Correa
DJ Tanzanite takes command of the decks on the Red Bull Music Academy stage at the S贸nar Festival with a blend of classic and new hip-hop. For more from S贸nar check out page 90.
More Body&Mind A festival of treats from the worlds of sport and culture
80 young footballers visit hangar-7 82 Get the gear 84 inside the david coulthard museum 86 listings 90 nightlife 96 short story 98 Mindâ€™s eye
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The captains of the three Red Bull soccer academies in Ghana, Salzburg and Brazil have their best years ahead of them. They tell us about their dreams Words: Andreas Rottenschlager Photography: Philipp Horak
Three young guys stand sheepishly on the airfield outside Hangar-7 at Salzburg airport, in Austria. Robin Gnange, a brawny defender from the Ivory Coast, quietly answers questions in French. Brazilian Anderson Gabriel Cajano is a Portuguese-speaker, but isn’t saying anything for now – perhaps not surprising after a 12-hour flight. The last of the three has home advantage: Aleksandar Simic, the captain of the Salzburg U17s, is seeing his opposite numbers from the other side of the world for the first time today. A ball rolls out onto the airfield and they’re suddenly switched on: Robin makes the ball dance on his head, Gabriel pins the ball in the nape of his neck and Aleks grins broadly as he juggles. Twenty minutes of doing tricks for the cameras has them nicely warmed up for the interview. red bulletin: Three talented players from three different continents around one table. Where and when
did you first play football? robin: I started when I was six after I saw Zinedine Zidane on TV. I’m from the Ivory Coast, to the west of Ghana. I was already playing with friends on the street when I was very small. aleksandar: My very first football pitch was a field in Lienz. I was about four or five when my father first took me out to play. We’d play with a small goal on the edge of a forest. My father used to be a footballer himself. He signed me up to play in a club when I was six. gabriel: My father took me to play football too. A forest in my town of Valinhos was cleared by fire and we played on the ashen remains. It would always take me three days to wash myself clean after playing there. What characterstics does a young footballer need most to succeed as a professional? robin: It’s most important to show respect for other people. Then you get respect in return. When you’re
Savouring the taste: Gabriel, Robin and Aleks (l-r) test some of the Mayday Bar’s Smart Food at Hangar-7
a professional footballer, you’re setting an example to others, both on and off the field. And you won’t get anywhere if you don’t work hard. gabriel: You should go through life humbly and show respect. I had to leave home early, but my family’s still very important to me. That’s why I had my mother’s name – Angela – tattooed on my forearm. She’s always been there for me. aleksandar: I would say ambition is the most important thing. You’ve always got to have a clear goal in front of you and work at it. Everything else happens by itself. Another quality you’ve got to have is independence. I left home for the regional training centre when I was 12. Robin, there are other talented young players from Cameroon and Benin training at the Red Bull Academy in Ghana. Does that give a sense of camaraderie or sporting rivalry? robin: Well, obviously the Frenchspeaking players get along better with each other. But we’re all friends and the guys from Ghana, who are Englishspeaking, have given us a very warm welcome. We all have to get up at six. After breakfast we go and train and in the afternoon we have English lessons. We go to bed at 9pm. What’s daily life like at the academies in Austria and Brazil? aleksandar: We have breakfast at 6.30am, then training and classes – I’m just finishing business school. Education is a very important aspect and it’s one of the main advantages of the academy. In the afternoon I go back to the stadium for more training. We go to bed at 10.30pm. gabriel: We’re also up and about by seven. In the morning, there’s individual training, fitness work and co-ordination exercises. What I like about life at the academy is that you get to develop as a person too. Sometimes we have classes which go on until 11pm. A bad injury can put an early end to a career. How do you protect yourselves? gabriel: I know that getting an academic education is very important. So I definitely want to complete my school education. My goal is to become a professional footballer. But if something were to happen, then I could imagine working in sports management. robin: Our academy works alongside a private school. We have English and computer science lessons there. aleksandar: I would most likely see myself doing something in business. Once I’m finished with business school, I would like to go to evening classes alongside my training.
“What I like about life at the academy is that you get to develop as a person too” Gabriel Cajano
Play time: How do you get three fairly shy young guys to dance? The answer is round and has four letters
Do you have any time for the ladies? robin: Most of the players from Ghana have a girlfriend because they can leave the academy at the weekends. To be honest, I don’t have the time myself. If I have days off, I go home to my family. gabriel: The São Paulo academy isn’t far from my home town, so I can see my girlfriend at weekends. aleksandar: Just because you’re living at an academy, doesn’t mean you can’t go out at weekends. Of course I look around every now and then [smiling]. You’re 16 or 17. The next two years will probably decide whether you make the leap into the professional game or not. gabriel: I already train with the Red Bull Brasil first team. I’m aiming to hold a regular place with them. I realise that the next two years will decide everything, and I’d like to join Salzburg or go to a big team in Brazil. aleksandar: I’ll carry on in the academy’s under-18 team. After that, I want to get my foot in the door with the Red Bull Juniors as quickly as I can. robin: I’d like to be a professional footballer in two years at the most. And I will be! What do you plan to buy with your first pay packet? robin: My family still lives in the Ivory Coast, with my two brothers and three sisters. I’d like to buy them a house with my first pay packet. gabriel: …and I would buy my family a house in Valinhos. aleksandar: I think it’s important to give something back. My parents have always stood by me too. If there was anything left over from my first pay packet, I’d go on holiday. Find out more about the Red Bull teams, players and games by logging on to www.redbulls.com
Photography: Philipp Horak
From the ashes to the Champions League: Robin, Aleks and Gabriel on their goals and idols Robin Gnange Born: Dec 18, 1993 Place of birth: Youhoulil, Ivory Coast Team: Red Bull Ghana Position: Central defender Idol: “Zinedine Zidane, because he’s stayed modest.” Dream: “To play for FC Asante Kotoko in Ghana at first, then go to Spain, preferably to Barça.”
Aleksandar Simic Born: Jan 24, 1993 Place of birth: Lienz, Austria Team: Red Bull Salzburg Position: Midfield Idol: Michael Ballack. “A complete player: he can play in attack or defence.” Dream: “Red Bull Salzburg, and Italy after that. I like the tactical football they play.”
Anderson Gabriel Cajano Born: Apr 16, 1993 Place of birth: Valinhos, Brazil Team: Red Bull Brasil Position: Midfield Idol: “Cristiano Ronaldo: he does tricks no one else can.” Dream: “To play for FC Barcelona, and, more importantly, for the Brazilian national team.”
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Get the Gear
Dany Torres’s Essentials The Spanish FMX ace is a star of the Red Bull X-Fighters World Tour, which comes to London this month. But what does this freestyle rider have on his lifestyle rider? 82
1. Troy Lee Designs 2010 SE2 helmet www.troyleedesigns.com “I genuinely love their artwork and designs and would wear their stuff even if they weren’t sponsoring me.” 2. Etnies Chrome 02 trainers etnies.com “I always wear Etnies trainers because they’re really comfortable and they come in lots of different colour and model combinations. They’re my favourite footwear.”
3. KTM SX 250 bike www.ktm.com “It’s the bike that I feel most comfortable with, it’s like my second skin.” 4. Oakley Mayhem MX goggles www.oakley.com “These really work well for me. Great designs, high-quality lenses. I have this model in several colours.” 5. Solo Moto Off Road magazine solooffroad.solomoto.es “I always have this Spanish magazine with me. It gets me through travel delays.”
6. iPod nano www.apple.com “I take this everywhere so I can listen to music when I’m travelling and before a competition starts, which helps me to relax and concentrate.” 7. Gaerne SG12 boots www.gaerne.com “These are my favourite boots. The season I first wore them they gave me good luck, I had a lot of good results. This year, they made me a special pair in green and white.”
8. Oakley Dispatch sunglasses www.oakley.com “Again, like my ‘work googgles’, I’ve got these Oakley sunglasses in several different colours. I just like wearing them.” 9. Samsung Netbook N210 laptop www.samsung.com “As I’m away a lot, this is a real essential for me, to stay in permanent contact with my family.” More Torres and friends at www.redbullxfighters.com
Words: Ruth Morgan. Photography: simon vinaLl (5), daniel Grund (4), Joerg Mitter (1)
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From top: A selection of David Coulthard’s trophies; His Formula Vauxhall-Lotus car; Suits of many colours; Helmets, boots and other memorabilia
Home is Where the Kart is A reluctant racer as a boy, David Coulthard fashioned a career in Formula One that elevated him to superstar status. Nowhere more so than in his Scottish hometown, where a proud dad has created one of the sporting world’s most personal museums Words: Ruth Morgan Photography: Thomas Butler
When David Coulthard was 12 he was different to most boys in his class. While they dreamed of a high-octane career behind the wheel of a Formula One car, Coulthard was sure of one thing: he didn’t want to be a racing driver. But on Christmas Day in 1983, in the Scottish village of Twynholm, there was a conspicuous present under the tree at the Coulthard family home: his first kart. His racing-enthusiast father, Duncan, then falsified his reluctant son’s signature to get him a licence and, in the New Year, Coulthard was surprised to find himself on a racing track. Then more surprised to discover not only that he was good, but that he was hooked. Flash forward 27 years and Coulthard is known the world over. He is the highest British points scorer ever in F1, he’s collected trophies of all shapes and sizes, 13 for wins, and this year he’s been awarded an MBE for his contribution to motorsport. Showing no signs of slowing down following his F1 retirement, he’s become a pundit for the BBC, and recently got back behind the wheel to drive in the German Touring Car (DTM) series. Now, thanks again to his dad, this success has turned his sleepy home village in Dumfries and Galloway into an unlikely mecca for petrol heads. In a small building set back from a quiet, residential street, in Twynholm is the David Coulthard Museum and Pitstop Diner. Inside is a treasure trove of memorabilia, gathered by Duncan over the years, detailing every step of Coulthard’s career, from that first kart race to his last F1 trophy. It’s a proud father’s collection that grew too big for the garage – easily done when your chosen keepsakes are racing cars and a career’s worth of other memorabilia. It’s all housed in what used to be a sugar store, owned by the Coulthard family haulage firm and has brought 84
people from all over the world down the village’s daffodil-lined paths for over 12 years now. “I’ve lived in Twynholm all my life,” says Duncan Coulthard. “When I ran out of space for all the memorabilia, I opened the museum as a way of raising money for the local school and church – I didn’t imagine how popular it would be.” On a busy day the museum gets more than 60 people through its doors (equal to 20 per cent of the total village population), and on F1 race days that number can double, as car clubs and groups of racing enthusiasts make a beeline for the small Pitstop Diner adjoining the museum, where homecooked dishes (including the fusion genius that is the haggis panini) are served up in front of a big screen. The diner walls are adorned with photos of faces from Coulthard’s past; Sylvester Stallone somehow squeezing into the cockpit of Coulthard’s McLaren, Princess Diana standing next to a young, grinning William as he sits behind the wheel, and a whole host of fellow Scottish motorracing greats such as Jackie Stewart and Allan McNish, who themselves began their careers not too far from here. The day-to-day running of the diner and museum is handled by Linda White, a retired teacher and lifelong motorsport fan who moved to the area eight years ago. “You just have to look at our visitors book to see people come here from all over the world,” she says. And visitor numbers are on the rise. “David’s more popular than ever,” says White. “It’s funny, I think people get here expecting him to be clearing tables or dusting his trophies.” The museum has retained a sense of intimacy that could only come from a collection saved and curated by the Coulthard family – and that makes it unique. The usual red rope is refreshingly absent, making it possible to get up close and personal with all the trappings of
years of motor-racing success. The museum floorspace is dominated by racing cars, a visual history of Coulthard’s career from driving in the Formula Vauxhall-Lotus series, through Formula 3, Formula 3000, and then Formula One, with a Williams, McLaren and, in pride of place, the Red Bull Racing RB2 car that he drove to third place in 2006 at Monaco, giving his team their first podium finish. All the remaining surfaces are crammed with trophies (293 at the last count). The walls are crowded with photos of the man himself, certificates and plaques, each with its own story to tell. His father points out a frame containing a faded facsimile on which, he says, is champion racer Aryton Senna’s last known signature, before he was killed during a race in 1994. “It’s a note wishing David well for the F3000 race and it came through the night before Senna was killed. It was tragic. It was to be David’s last race in F3000 as it goes, as we’d run out of money to fund him. And strangely that started it all for him – he got promoted to Williams driver.” At the end of the room that first number 96 kart Coulthard was pushed into by his dad hangs, battered, bearing the scars of his first on-track adventures and complete with a plastic bottle for a fuel tank, from the ceiling directly above the sleek beauty of the £3.5 million RB2 that David could only have dreamed of driving when he first started out – a striking reminder of how far he’s come. But success has its own difficulties. Now David is back racing, a familiar problem has reared its head: they’re going to need more space in the museum. Details, directions and more at www.dcmuseum.com
Coulthard’s Red Bull Racing helmet and commemorative race suit
Coulthard’s first kart hangs above his Red Bull Racing F1 car in a room crammed with the reminders of an extremely successful motor racing career
Duncan Coulthard: the proud dad whose collection became too big for the garage
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Red Bull Manny Mania Pro Final 21 – 22.08.10
After 32 qualifying events, the world’s best amateur skaters compete for the golden ticket that will let them enter the invite-only Red Bull Manny Mania Pro event. New York, USA
Photography: Camilo Rozo/Red Bull Photofiles, Getty Images for Red Bull Air Race/Red Bull Photofiles, Ray Demski/Red Bull Photofiles, Samo Vidic/Red Bull Photofiles
From mountain high to ocean deep, here’s the best sporting events, the world over
O’Marisquino 2010 06 – 08.08.10
Red Bull Xrow 14.08.10
The 10th anniversary of this sports festival features BMX, skateboarding, B-Boying and FMX competitions. The starting line-up features more than a few stars, including Mack McKelton, Danny Leon, Sergio Layos, Madars Apse and Jorge Gomez. Vigo, Spain
More than 40 rowing teams of eight with coxswain take to the water to prove they have what it takes. But this is no ordinary test: the course covers several lakes, meaning they must pick up their boat and run to get from one to the other. Lucerne, Switzerland
Ski Jumping Summer Grand Prix 07 – 08.08.10
Red Bull Rookies Cup 14.08.10
With a little help from some fake grass and water, ski jumpers can get mid-air thrills all summer long. Hinterzarten, Germany
Red Bull Cliff Diving World Series 08.08.10 As the series reaches the halfway mark, competition is fierce. British diver Gary Hunt is determined to take the overall top-spot on the podium, but 10-time world champion Orlando Duque certainly won’t be giving up the title without a fight. Polignano a Mare, Italy
PGA Championship 09 – 15.08.10 This is the 92nd edition the historic golf championship. Talented Colombian Camilo Villegas is hoping to continue the strong form that has pushed him further into the spotlight over the course of 2010. Whistling Straits, Kohler, Wisconsin, USA
Red Bull X-Fighters 14.08.10 Battersea Power Station provides a suitably dramatic backdrop for the penultimate round of the world’s biggest FMX battle. The atmosphere is at boiling point as the best riders smell victory in the air. London, England
Tensions are set to be high at the second-to-last stop on the 2010 calendar, as 25 of the world’s best teenage racers from 15 nations near their last chance to prove themselves on the track. Brno, Czech Republic
Pro Wakeboard Tour 14 – 15.08.10 The cream of the world’s wakeboarding scene, including Parks Bonifay, Dallas Friday, JD Webb and Adam Errington, finish this gruelling five-stop contest battling for supremacy on the water in elimination rounds. The action is beamed onto an on-shore big screen. Knoxville, Texas, USA
Baltic Games 20 – 21.08.10 The skateboard and BMX festival in the northern harbour city is Poland’s most important. BMX biker Michael Beran from the Czech Republic is one of the competitors. Danzig, Poland
IFSC Climbing World Cup 20 – 21.08.10 World-class athletes, including Slovenian Natalija Gros, compete in lead and speed disciplines as the 2010 championship continues. Xining, China
FIM Motocross World Championship 22.08.10 With only two championship rounds to go after the action unfolds in Brazil, MX1 riders will have to work hard to stop Antonio Cairoli taking the crown. Campo Grande, Brazil
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Red Bull Air Race 07 – 08.08.10 For the final race of the Red Bull Air Race World Championship, the airborne battle lands at Germany’s EuroSpeedway Lausitz to help the race track celebrate its 10th birthday. EuroSpeedway Lausitz, Germany
ADAC rally deutschland 20 – 22.08.10
Stay Strong Murray Jam 28.08.10
The second asphalt rally of the 2010 season is a favourite of defending champion Sébastien Loeb, who has won every WRC event held here previously. But he knows all too well that there is no such thing as an easy win. Trier, Germany
The UK’s top BMX dirt riders, battle to be crowned Dirt King at the annual gathering in honour of UK riding legend Stephen Murray. Worcestershire, England
NASCAR Sprint Cup Series 21.08.10 Scott Speed gets behind the wheel to fight his way through 500 punishing laps in front of 160,000 fans. Bristol Motor Speedway, USA
Red Bull Super Hit 21.08.10 A three-on-three version of Finland’s national sport pesäpallo, or ‘Finnish baseball’, that tests even the best. Sotkamo, Finland
German Touring Car Championship 22.08.10 Ex-F1 man David Coulthard continues to cover new ground in his first (DTM) championship season, driving alongside seasoned professionals. Circuit Park Zandvoort, Netherlands
ASP World Tour 23.08 – 03.09.10 At the Billabong Pro Teahupoo, one of the most legendary breaks on the surfing calendar, reigning world champion Mick Fanning is chasing a win to stay in with a chance of defending his title. Teahupoo, Taiarapu, Tahiti
Extreme Sailing Series Europe 26 – 29.08.10
FIVB Beach Volleyball 03 – 08.08.10 The final Grand Slam event of the season takes place in Mazuri where, historically, Brazilian teams triumph. This year, Germans Brink and Reckermann may redress the balance. Mazuri, Poland
The biggest and fastest racing catamarans in sailing competition well deserve their extreme title, bringing aquatic action as close to the shore as it’s possible to get. Kiel, Germany
Red Bull Cliff Diving World Series 28.08.10 With a backdrop of the Uristock glacier, the world’s most daring aquatic acrobats twist and somersault down through 26m of air into Lake Uri. Sisikon, Switzerland
Ötztaler Radmarathon 29.08.10 With a distance of 147 miles, and a route taking in four steep Alpine passes and South Tyrolean vineyards, this is one of the toughest bike marathons going. Around 10,000 participants from 15 countries enter for one of the 4,000 coveted places. Sölden, Austria
Red Bull Indianapolis GP 29.08.10 Intent on bettering his impressive third-place finish in 2009, MotoGP rider Dani Pedrosa is determined to continue his strong season performance and fight for the overall crown. Indianapolis, USA
Formula One Belgian Grand Prix 29.08.10 The longest track on the Formula One calendar is famed for its daunting Eau Rouge corner and changeable weather, where drivers can encounter both hot sun and driving rain in a single lap. This, coupled with the already drama-packed action of the 2010 season, guarantees a race not to be missed. Spa-Francorchamps, Belgium
Red Bulls Salute 03 – 05.09.10 The top eight European ice hockey teams, including EC Red Bull Salzburg, skate up for the European Trophy finals. Eisarena Salzburg, Austria
Red Bull Hase Gegen Igel 04.09.10 Olympic athlete and German long-distance running champion Sabrina Mockenhaupt will need to hit the ground running as she takes on a 10-person relay team singlehanded over 10km. Buxtehude, Germany
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night spots Whatever your musical tastes you’ll find a festival that’s perfect for you, wherever you are in the world
Zombie Summer Soundsystem 01.08.10 Bringing their deep sinister sounds to this Sunday slot, the former after-party has become the main event, steering lovers of house and techno into a new week. And it looks like the Zombies are now set to take over the world, now releasing their creations on their very own label and spreading their sound with club nights across the globe. Cargo, London, England
Photography: Universal Music, Tobi Bauer, Norman Konrad, Carlo Alberto Della Siega
Wacken 05 – 07.08.10 More than 70,000 fans of metal in all its forms flock into the small town of Wacken in Germany every year for three days of music and mayhem at the hands of greats. This year metal heavyweights, including Iron Maiden, Slayer, Alice Cooper, Mötley Crüe and the Red Hot Chili Peppers, plus the Red Bull Tourbus, will make ears bleed. Festivalgelände, Wacken, Germany
Aquasella Fest 06 - 07.08.10 For the 14th year running, the electro scene’s finest gathering gets into gear. And this year the festival increases in size, for even more of a party feel. The line-up features artists such as Vitalic, Luke Slater aka Planetary Assault Systems, Ben Klock, Dave Clarke, Jimpster and Sven Väth. All will congregate in this small town armed with beats to move the 35,000-strong crowd. Arriondas, Oviedo, Spain
Tom Barman dEUS front man Tom Barman leaves the studio to take us on a tour through Antwerp and introduces us to his favourite restaurants, bars and cafes, on page 94. Antwerp, Belgium
Audioriver Festival 06 – 08.08.10 Four Tet, Hadouken!, Laurent Garnier and Plastician are all performing on the banks of the Vistula River at Poland’s biggest electro festival. A new addition for 2010 is the Independent Market, an electronic music trade fair backed by Red Bull Music Academy. Vistula River Beach, Plock, Poland
Hevy Festival 06 – 08.08.10 This alternative music festival likes its music loud and live. Hardcore heroes Glassjaw and Gallows feature alongside Glaswegian altrockers Twin Atlantic on the Red Bull Bedroom Jam stage. Kent, England
Hard Summer 07.08.10 In addition to a 12-date tour, the Hard Festival is landing in Los Angeles State Historic Park for one night of musical mayhem. Confirmed headliners include Soulwax, Crystal Castles, Major Lazer, Erol Alkan and Diplo, with all the action also available on Red Bull Music Academy Radio. State Historic Park, Los Angeles, USA
Sunjam Utila 07.08.10 Located off the Honduras coast, Utila is a deserted island perfect for a sun-soaked party. Sunjam organisers ferry revellers to dance to a soundtrack by Alexi Delano, XPansul and Joseph Capriati. Bay Islands, Honduras
caribou With his salmon-coloured socks and Birkenstocks, Caribou’s Daniel Snaith wowed the crowds at Sonar Festival, on page 90. Barcelona, Spain
more body & mind fukkk offf His music is described as ‘danceable electronic punk rock’ – we’re talking about Bastian Heerhorst’s new rave outfit – read about him on page 93. Hamburg, Germany
Open Source Festival 07.08.10 Düsseldorf Racecourse is one of Germany’s most picturesque, and a grand backdrop for electro royalty such as Theo Parrish to bring his beats to the masses. And when night falls the party moves into nearby clubs including Salon des Amateurs and Pretty Vacant in Düsseldorf’s Old Town. Galopprennbahn, Düsseldorf, Germany
Krake Festival 11 – 15.08.10 Electronic experimentation is the order of the day at the inaugural three-dayer, set up by the forward-thinking Berliners behind Killekill and Salon Du Katz. Expect live performances and boundary-pushing aplenty from specially selected talents including Cristian Vogel, Plaid and Radioactive Man. Berghain Kantine/Suicide Circus, Berlin, Germany
Neopop Festival 12 – 14.08.10 This annual gathering of techno, electro, beats and breaks brings a who’s who of the electronic music scene to the beautiful setting of the Lima River. This year the likes of Vitalic, Ben Klock and James Holden are in attendance, alongside former Red Bull Music Academy lecturer Matthew Jonson, who performs live. If you can’t make it, Red Bull Music Academy Radio will be there to catch the sounds for you. Viana Do Castelo, Portugal
Spirit of Burgas 13 – 15.08.10 If the music represents the spirit of Burgas then, with The Prodigy, Gorillaz Sound System, Andy C, DJ Shadow and Grandmaster Flash all making an appearance, fans may not want to leave. Central Beach, Burgas, Bulgaria
Zürich Street Parade 14.08.10 terrazza mare & il muretto There’s more for tourists than sun and sea – we discover two of the coolest clubs with the hottest sounds, on page 92. Jesolo, Italy
From a humble beginning back in 1992, this annual celebration of love, peace and tolerance now attracts up to a million people each year, all winding their way through the city to techno and house behind the many ‘love mobile’ floats. Zürich, Switzerland
Creamfields Andalucía 14.08.10 With annual events now held in Abu Dhabi, Chile, Australia, Brazil, Argentina and Malta, it’s the UK dance event that’s taking over the world. But for fans of quality dance music that’s no bad thing, and this Spanish beach fest is no exception. Tiga, Junior Boys, Deadmau5, Trentemøller, Jeff Mills, Dave Clarke and 2ManyDjs make sure it’s all killer, no filler. Playa de Guardias Viejas, Almería, Spain
Theo Parrish 14.08.10 A night of beguiling beats awaits house lovers at the hands of the revered Detroit DJ. Having started his musical life nearly 25 years ago, Parrish is a master of getting the dancefloor moving. The Twisted Pepper, Dublin, Ireland
Krafty Kuts 14.08.10 Since being snapped up by Norman Cook’s Southern Fried label Martin Reeves has never looked back. The electro and breakbeat DJ has won numerous awards, travelled the world and has recently started his own label, Against the Grain, but tonight he’s back in the city of Brighton where it all began. Digital, Brighton, England
Outside Lands 14 – 15.08.10 Music meets art in a picturesque park, and it’s a line-up that’s hard to better: Kings of Leon, Phoenix, Al Green, Empire of the Sun, Chromeo, Gogol Bordello, The Strokes and Mayer Hawthorne. Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, USA
Strøm Festival 16 – 22.08.10 Many festivals claim to be ‘all about the music’, but this week-long techno takeover really is. Funded by the city council, it exists solely to bring the best in Danish electro to those who might not be club regulars. The city-wide sets are put on in churches, cafes, cinemas, clubs and more. Copenhagen, Denmark
Sónar in Salmon Socks Canadian electronic pop sensation Caribou lull the sun to sleep at the Sónar Festival. With a recorder, Birkenstocks and Florian Obkircher as a witness Daniel Snaith, alias Caribou, rubs the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger and wipes the sweat off his forehead with the palm of his hand. He is exhausted and happy. He gives a satisfied nod to his three band-mates and manages to triumphantly raise his right arm in the air with what must be his last bit of strength. He looks into the crowd, grinning from ear to ear. There is a whole sea of people in front of him – 400, maybe 500. Hard to say exactly how many. The applause is deafening in any case. It’s almost louder than the brilliant gig Caribou has just performed early this evening on the Red Bull Music Academy Stage at the Sónar Festival. Three hours earlier: a small van is making its way down the Carrer dels Àngels, one of the narrow streets not far from the main 90
tourist thoroughfare, La Rambla. It’s making slow progress. On this hot afternoon, the street seems to have turned into a pedestrian zone. Young people wearing Ray-Bans, shorts and deck shoes are flocking in great numbers towards the Museu d’Art Contemporani, towards the Sónar Festival. For 16 years now, the crème de la crème of electronic music has been coming together in the Catalan metropolis. More than 80,000 people come to the Sónar to celebrate these heroes of techno, house, electronica, dubstep, hip-hop and synth pop. By night they do so in huge exhibition halls outside the city, but by day they revel in the heart of Barcelona, at the Museum of Contemporary Art. Once the van finally gets there, four guys get out. They’re wearing light, pastel-
coloured T-shirts and summery trousers. One of them is also wearing salmoncoloured ankle socks and Birkenstock sandals. So is it because of this fashion faux-pas that he’s asked to pose for a photo the second he gets out of the van? Probably not. It’s more likely because Canadian Daniel Snaith, is the man behind the most celebrated electronic pop album of the year so far under his stage-name Caribou. Swim is an exercise in psychedelic iconoclasm, peppered with dancey pop songs such as the hit ‘Odessa’ and other wandering sound epics. But Snaith and his musicians don’t have a lot of time to pose for photos with fans. They’ve just flown in from London and have to perform in two hours. The four carry their keyboards, drums, guitars and microphones to the stage themselves in metal cases. Snaith is struck by the view of the SónarDôme, a covered stage in the museum courtyard. A quick flashback: “I played Sónar for the first time in 2002,” says Snaith. “On that very stage. But I was playing alone. Just me and my laptop. The atmosphere, the people… it was amazing! I played a piece by Art Ensemble Of Chicago. It was free jazz. Not exactly the easiest music out there. But the audience still went wild. I just thought, ‘Wow, where am I?!’” That was one of his first gigs. And one of the last where he performed with his computer on stage. In the same way that
Photography: Tobi Bauer
Caribou live at Sónar (from left): Daniel Snaith, John Schmersal, Ryan Smith, Brad Weber
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Gamescom 18 – 22.08.10 This is a gaming geek’s utopia. It’s filled with the latest computer game technology, which ensures nearly a quarter of a million people will make a beeline for Cologne. And if the gaming gets too much, the comedy and music during the evening provides a perfect screen break. Cologne, Germany
Socking it to them: On the Red Bull Music Academy Stage; fashion-forward Daniel Snaith (below); with Caribou (right)
Pukkelpop 19 – 21.08.10 One of Belgium’s largest festivals celebrates its 25th anniversary with a three-day extravaganza including top acts Iron Maiden and The Prodigy, performing for more than 180,000 music-loving campers. Festivalgelände, Hasselt-Kiewit, Belgium
FM4 Frequency Festival 2010 19 – 21.08.10
Snaith loves making records alone in the studio, he also needs the organic, improvised, spontaneous side of performing live. “Caribou sounds different live from how we do recorded, even if it’s the same songs. With all the rehearsing and jamming sessions, the arrangements totally change. It’s different every night. It depends on how much the audience get involved.” A little later the four of them are on the stage, for now, still hidden behind the sound system. Out front, French DJ Kool Clap is mixing a track by Daft Punk. Snaith rocks back and forth in time as the track gets going. And then he gets ready. He takes his glasses and Birkenstocks off. “Because it’s easier to manage the guitar pedals and bass drum in your socks,” he explains. “But I’m constantly asked about it. I played in Berlin recently and there were people from my label there. And they were truly appalled. What are you doing? You can’t go out on stage like that, they said. But I just love my Birkenstocks. I’m well aware that it’s making something of a fashion statement, but actually they’re very comfortable!” And a couple of minutes later, you understand why Snaith needs to be comfortable on stage when Caribou perform an upbeat pop track, ‘Leave House’, from their current album. He plays four instruments in the first three sections – guitar, tambourine, drums and synthesiser – all while somehow managing to sing at the
same time. “I do play a lot of instruments on the album but not particularly well. And when we play live it’s turned out that I’ve been left with the instruments that no one else wants to play,” he explains after the show, with a big grin. Which is probably how the Canadian has ended up playing the recorder on the current hit ‘Odessa’ and tootling the Ethiopian flute solo on the album. It sounds somehow charmingly off-key, in a nerdy way. Rather like Snaith’s little dance routines, actually. And that’s exactly what makes Caribou’s live shows different. The balancing act between humour and professionalism, between their humdrum appearance and the intense, sweaty show, between well-crafted pop and gushing, psychedelic monster songs. Caribou finish their set with one such song. ‘Sun’ is a meandering, rambling epic somewhere between krautrock and techno that the band plays, appropriately enough, just as the sun is going down. Snaith falls into a trance, drums, plays the synthesiser and repeats the word “sun” over and over like a mantra, as if putting it to bed. Once the concert is over, the charming Canadian grabs the microphone with his left hand and shouts to the audience, “You’ve been so nice to us! Have a wonderful weekend, thank you!” Caribou talks about his favourite tracks at redbullmusicacademyradio.com/shows/2691/
By day, thousands will crowd into Green Park for seven stages hosting world-class bands including LCD Soundsystem, White Lies, We Are Scientists, Thirty Seconds to Mars and Klaxons, and by night all things electronic take over with John Digweed, Major Lazer and Diplo. Green Park, St Pölten, Austria
Zomerkriebels Festival 21.08.10 Five different music areas and a whole host of top international DJs means house and techno lovers are spoiled for choice at this annual park gathering. This year Afrojack, Crookers, Tocadisco and Shinedoe are among those packing up their sounds and heading for Holland. Vredenburg Leidsche Rijn, Utrecht, Netherlands
Ugly Duckling 21.08.10 The trio from Long Beach, California, have been bringing humour to the rap scene for more than 10 years with their skilful lyrics and sampled sounds. And with new EP Audacity coming out, they’re showing no signs of slowing down. Concorde 2, Brighton, England
Battle of the Year Germany 21.08.10 Germany’s 16 best B-Boys battle it out for a chance to represent their country at the world finals in France later this year. German DJs Kid Cut and DJ Cliché provide the all-important backing track. Hannover Pavilion, Hannover, Germany
The sun even shines at night over beach bar Terrazza
Eckernförde Strand Festival 22.08.10 If choosing between a beach break or music festival is proving too much, this annual gathering has two words of advice: do both. Around 18,000 people are expected to heed this counsel and arrive in the town to see acts including Die Fantastischen Vier, Ich + Ich and Culcha Candela. Strand, Eckenförde, Germany
TERRAZZA MARE & Il MURETTO JESOLO
Jazzfestival Saalfelden 26 – 29.08.10
Forest Fest 26 – 29.08.10 Each year the beautiful woods of Kosutnjak are transformed into a wonderland of music, art, film and food for would-be forest fairies. Kosutnjak Forest, Belgrade, Serbia
Tauron Nowa Muzyka Festival 26 – 29.08.10 In the dramatic setting of a 177year-old coal mine, this festival provides a backdrop worthy of the top-class performers it attracts. This year, electro’s finest, including Bonobo, Nosaj Thing, The Gaslamp Killer, Pantha du Prince and Floating Points, join the post-industrial party. Katowice, Poland
Chiemsee Reggae Summer 27 – 29.08.10 It may not be Jamaica, but at the height of summer, at the foot of the Chiemgau Alps, the bass takes over for three days of reggae bands, DJs and soundsystems, including Gentleman, Fat Freddys Drop, The Wailers and Omar Perry, bringing a bit of the genre’s birthplace to Bavaria. Festivalgelände, Übersee, Germany
Electric Elephant 27 – 29.08.10 This quiet fishing village is fast becoming a mecca for festivalgoers. Electric Elephant takes place in the beachside pine forest with boat parties and musical offerings, including Fuck Buttons and Todd Terje. The Garden, Petrçane, Croatia
World’s Best Clubs
Lido Late Nights Florian Obkircher checks in on the new generation of jet-setters falling in love with the resort town on the Adriatic coast Tacky restaurants with accordionists on the terrace (making them even more tacky), dirt-cheap beachware shops, brightly lit amusement arcades and hotel bars with cheap house music blasting. That just about sums up Jesolo by night. At least as far as the tourists who amble along the Via Dante Alighieri thoroughfare in the evenings are concerned, or any others who expect nothing more of this sun-kissed Italian seaside resort near Venice than pizzas, beaches and Chianti. But Jesolo has nightlife on offer as well. The best example of this is the Terrazza Mare, built on stilts and jutting out into the water in a little lagoon at the mouth of the River Sile. From inside the bar, the view sweeps out over the sea glistening in the evening light and settles on the lighthouse which takes pride of place in the bay. “It may not be functioning,” Luca ‘Fizzo’ Fabbro explains, “but you can’t beat it for romance.” He’s not wrong. Fabbro opened the Terrazza Mare 20 years ago and has extended it little by little ever since. The bar now has a garden too, full of luscious plants, works of art and light installations. And a drink whose rise allegedly began here. “Twelve years ago, Aperol was still considered a working man’s drink,” Fabbro explains. “But I seized on it and came up with an aperitif called the Spritz. Ever since 2002, I’ve organised a huge Spritz
Il Muretto, a gem with ’60s charm and techno beats
on the Beach party once a year. More than 10,000 people come to them.” Fabbro organises many of his beach parties with his old friend Tito Pinton, the owner of the town’s best-established club, Il Muretto, which opened in 1961. It has a roof and just one external wall – hence the name, which means little wall. In its early days, Il Muretto had stars like Ray Charles and James Brown performing there; the club brought some jet-set flair to the Adriatic coast. And it still does. Techno star Dubfire, for example, says Il Muretto is the best club in Italy and DJ icons such as Carl Craig, Fatboy Slim and Sven Väth are at the decks on various weekends to ensure unforgettable nights for the 5,000 or so who often gather on the vast dancefloor. The interior decor flits between Balearic beach-house charm, art deco and 1960s glamour. “The best moment every night is when the roof over the dancefloor opens at 5am and people are dancing in the morning light,” Pinton reveals, as he presses a button on the decks which opens the metal roof above his head. A perfect summer moment when the cliché of Jesolo and its beaches packed with tourists seems far, far away. At least as far away as next winter. Terrazza Mare, Piazzetta Faro, 30016 Jesolo, www.terrazzamare.com. Il Muretto, Via Roma Destra, 120, 30016 Jesolo, www.ilmuretto.net
Photography: Carlo Alberto Della Siega
Now in its 31st year, this revered gathering of the jazz world’s finest is staging 31 concerts at various venues around the town in celebration of its anniversary. Saalfelden, Austria
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Heerhorst in front of favourite punk dive, the Rote Flora; he rocks the fashion show (left)
FUKKK OFFF HAMBURG Nightcrawler
From Punk Rock Dive to Fashion Show Party
Photography: Norman Konrad
From the Rote Flora and Galão Strip to the industrial area, Hamburg nights go on late for Florian Obkircher. Especially if new raver DJ Fukkk Offf has anything to do with it “Olé, Olé, Olé,” resounds from the restaurant. Seconds later a waiter wearing a white shirt comes storming into the garden and honks his vuvuzela. “Spain must have just scored,” says Bastian Heerhorst, with a smile. La Furia Roja [The Red Fury] are playing Chile in the World Cup today and the atmosphere is pretty special in El Toro, which Heerhorst says is the best Spanish restaurant in Hamburg. “Even if I’m more of a pizza guy myself. But sometimes my manager, Ekki, takes
me here for the fish,” he says. Those occasions are getting less and less frequent, what with Heerhorst’s new rave outfit, the elegantly named Fukkk Offf, which is starting a stratospheric ascent. The 31-year-old has just been on tour in the US and Australia dropping his heavy bass and distorted electro beats and has gone and secured himself a recording contract with well-regarded New York label Coco Machete. His album, Love Me Hate Me Kiss Me Kill Me, is danceable
electronic punk rock, with synthesisers replacing electric guitars. In person, Heerhorst is far more amicable than his DJ handle might suggest. The Hamburg native is wearing a black T-shirt and blue jeans and there’s not a sign of a tattoo anywhere. In a black rucksack, he’s carrying his laptop. He’ll be needing it later. Fukkk Offf is one of the live acts at the Frontlineshop Fashion Show tonight, held at an abandoned factory building somewhere east of the city. But before that he’s heading to the Schanzenviertel, a delightfully packed neighbourhood of students and punks and ad executives that Heerhorst likes to call the Galão Strip, due to the numerous Portuguese cafés there. Four years ago, he moved to an apartment right next to the legendary punk dive Rote Flora, a paint and graffiti-splashed theatre-cum-concert and party location that’s been squatted since 1989. He loves the Schanzenviertel district, he explains as he lights a cigarette, even if Hamburg’s ‘in’ area has changed somewhat in recent years. “It’s become a bit gentrified. Now I mainly go out in Hamburger Berg,” he says. “St Pauli is hard core. There are little shops and cool bars all close together. And the best thing is that you get in everywhere for free.” But tonight he’s taking things easy; he meets friends in a small bar called Tier for a beer and flashes some local pride with an order of the beloved Hamburg brew, Astra. “I’m playing in Antwerp tomorrow and my flight leaves at nine,” he tells them. Shortly before midnight they head off for the Frontline fashion party in a large taxi. A red carpet has been rolled out in front of the huge brick building and the muffled boom of a bass drum can be heard. As Heerhorst and his entourage enter the building, he is initially horrified; the dancefloor is empty, even though the place is pulsating with fashion hipsters. “Ugh, I hope things are going to pick up a bit,” he says and sets up his equipment: a laptop, sound card and keyboard. When Fukkk Offf gets going half an hour later, the floor soon fills up. “Basti’s saw-tooth sound always gets them dancing,” says a friend, as Heerhorst dances wildly near the DJ console. After the gig, Heerhorst is given an appreciative slap on the shoulder by Ekki. “Well done kid,” he says, “but now get off home to bed so you don’t miss your flight in the morning.” The musician smiles and nods. But once Ekki is safely out of the way in a taxi, he turns to his friends: “So… who’s for Hamburger Berg?” he asks. It’s now 3am. His work is done for the night. The party can start. To find out more about tour dates, music and videos, go to www.myspace.com/fukkkofff
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First stop is Tom’s favourite bar: Kassa 4 in the heart of the student area
TOM BARMAN antwerp
Diamond Geezers Antwerp is a much smaller city than Brussels, but that’s never stopped it from having a vibrant scene and producing a real vibe. I think that has a lot to do with the people and their attitude. Antwerp people are something else. They are the hardest people to please and impress. Whenever we play there, we always have to work harder and play better because they can be tough. They’re our harshest critics. But they’re beautiful people; beautiful, aloof, arrogant, straight-forward people… with a brutal sense of humour. The city is just home for me. I’ve lived in other areas, but I’ve been in the Jewish quarter by the main station for the past 14 years and it’s perfect for me. I went to school around there and so it’s all really familiar, like an old jacket. The neighbourhood has a quiet, surreal quality to it in a way, 94
with the orthodox Jews and the diamond dealers coming and going. They all just shuffle along, getting on with business. It’s quite calming. Antwerp was a perfect choice for us when we were looking to build our studio. Our violin player, Klaas, managed to buy this massive old building in the Borgerhout district for very little. So we set up there. We have rehearsal space, our studio and a huge area on the ground floor where Klaas runs a club night called De Pekbabriek every now and again. Due to legal issues, it’s not that regular – about once every eight months – but its wild when it happens. It’s always a crazy night because it has that semi-legal underground vibe. When it comes to going out, Antwerp is really quite small so there’s no need to keep to one neighbourhood. A good night out
can take in a variety of areas and different atmospheres. We normally drift towards the city centre and hang out at my favourite bar, Kassa 4, which is on the Ossemarkt right in the heart of the student area. There’s also the Zeezicht bar (1) on the Dageraadplaats not far from our studio. It has some great beers and has a real local feel. That whole square is a cool place for bars. If you’re looking for something a bit more upmarket, you can head to the south of the city where there are some good cocktail bars or north by the harbour where there are some great restaurants like Bart A Vin (2) and Den Artist (3), which do great traditional Belgian food. There’s a real trend for hands-on nightlife right now, with small places springing up with minimal entrance fees, kids spinning discs in basements. The
Photography: David Legreve (3), Universal Music (1)
Belgium’s second city is first in the heart of dEUS frontman and Antwerp native Tom Barman, who reveals the secrets of its thriving underground scene to Nick Amies
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Mysteryland 28.08.10 Holland’s oldest, largest dance festival has become an institution for lovers of electronic sounds since it began way back in 1993. And this year promises not to disappoint, with 20 stages packed with top-name DJs. The Red Bull Music Academy joins the party this year, showcasing new talent and new ideas, with acts including Salgado and Fader, Space Dimension Controller and Derrick May. Former Floriade, Haarlemmermeer, Netherlands Bart a Vin serves up Belgian specialities down by the port...
Eastern Electrics August Bank Holiday 29.08.10
and at Den Artist, another favourite haunt
Tom (second from right) and the band
Van Eyck lei
STUIFENBERG t str
1 Zeezicht, Dageraadplaats 7, 2 Bart A Vin, Lange Slachterijstraat 3 3 Den Artist, Museumstraat 45 4 Café Capital, Rubenslei 37 5 Chat Le Roi, Leopold De Waelplaats
Kelly Splinter parties are great, like oldschool raves which crop up in random places, and there’s a big squat called the Scheld’apen, which the police have chosen to leave alone, which puts on some great events. It has hardcore electro nights, rock bands, art installations… it’s a pretty cool place. There’s also a really nice hangout we like, the Café Capital (4) , in the middle of the Stadspark which regularly has a good mix of local and international DJs. It’s kinda small, around 300 to 400 max, but that’s a good thing. It really generates a great energy. The day after a gig or a large night, I like to go and hang out downtown. On sunny days, the city’s Leopold De Waelplaats square is a great place to start the day. There are some excellent cafes such as Chat Le Roi (5) around there with terraces where you can sit out on the street and watch the world wake up. You can pretty much just wander around the city and grab a seat where you like and have a beer. Once the sun comes out, the city is suddenly full of pavement cafes. We even have a verb for it – een terrasje doen – which basically means ‘to do a terrace’. Winter leaves and everyone ‘does a terrace.’ If you want a real taste of Antwerp in all its glorious weirdness then go to the beach! It’s an actual beach called the St Annastrand on the south bank of the river Schelde with some nice little restaurants and a promenade. I wouldn’t say it’s beautiful, but it has this otherworldly charm and atmosphere. It freaks people out because you have this beach beside a river you can’t swim in because it’s too nasty, and a view of the industrial harbour. It’s quirky and down-to-earth, it’s a bit grubby, but it has a lot of charm. It really sums up the essence of Antwerp. For their latest album, Vantage Point (Universal), tour dates and videos, go to www.deus. be
Make the most of the British bank holiday with Eastern Electrics, who will be cranking up their Function 1 sounds system and turning a car park into a desirable destination with a line-up which includes techno kings Mulletover. Union Car Park, London, England
Notting Hill Carnival 29 – 30.08.10 Over the past 44 years the Notting Hill Carnival has grown into the biggest of its kind in Europe, attracting more than one million revellers to the streets of west London for an almighty celebration of Caribbean culture. This year, Major Lazer will be hosting a carnival party on Monday, when Diplo and Switch will present an eclectic line-up of burning-hot talent along with some very special guests. Notting Hill, London, England
International Film Festival Durres 29.08 – 04.09.10 Sitting under the stars on ‘Festival Island’ on the beach, or in an ancient Roman amphitheatre, audiences are treated to the best in modern world cinema, with 120 films and documentaries on show throughout the week. Durres, Albania
ELECTRIC PICNIC 03.09 – 05.09.10 Ireland’s best festival serves up an eclectic musical selection, from Roxy Music to Massive Attack, and Caribou to Fat Freddy’s Drop. You can even buy your drink online in advance so it’s waiting, chilled, when you arrive. Stradbally, Ireland
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A story by Matt Lynn
Lethal Force Steve has been hired to work on a new video game. But is it really a simulation or a game of life and death? Ryan Bekker took a single step forward from the line of five men, and offered Steve West his hand. He was a big, ugly brute of a man, with the build of a tractor. “I’ll be your executioner today,” he said in a clipped South African accent. “Enjoy.” “I don’t suppose you fancy a day off, pal,” said Steve. Bekker shook his head. “You’ll get a five-minute head start. Then we’ll come after you. And kill you.” Steve could feel a pump of adrenalin in his veins. “Just a game, right?” Bekker flashed up his watch. “The clock’s ticking.” Steve started to run hard. After five years in the SAS, and five more as a mercenary for an outfit known as Death Inc within its deadly trade, he reckoned he was as fit as any man. Even so… Against Bekker, and his four thugs? Who the hell knows? He pushed on, his boots crashing through the soft, damp ground. The Isle of Maree was a desolate strip of forest and windswept, craggy shoreline, on Loch Maree in the Scottish highlands. A mile long, and half that wide, it was isolated and uninhabited. A perfect killing ground. If that’s what you wanted, reflected Steve. He glanced left and right. The island was dominated by oaks, holly and birch, a dense mass of treacherous trees. He’d been hired by Pyramid Entertainment, a huge games company designing a new ‘shoot-’em-up’ for the Xbox 360. Lethal Force, it was called. A Special Forces soldier was dropped onto a remote island, then tracked by five assassins. It was kill or be killed. There were micro-cameras fitted to their combat fatigues. The whole island was wired. Today’s manhunt would be captured in crystal-clear digital images, then processed into the most realistic video game ever produced. Left, Steve decided. He hurtled through the trees. Escape and evade. He’d done it 96
plenty of times during Regiment training. It was one of the most basic soldiering skills. If you can’t hide you can’t fight, his instructor had bawled on a wet day in the howling wind on the Brecon Beacons. A shot. Steve ducked “Shit,” he muttered. That wasn’t five minutes. Nothing like it. He glanced backwards. Nothing. It was still early morning, and the misty dampness made it hard to see clearly. The hunters had AK-47s, their 30-round clips filled with blanks. If there was a direct hit, the micro-cameras would flash to tell Steve to go down. Another shot. Closer this time. It struck one of the holly trees, and Steve could feel a fragment of bark fly into his face. He swerved. There was a ridge of higher ground in front of him. Bark, he wondered to himself. On my cheek. Blanks don’t chip bark off a tree. “Christ,” he muttered. They didn’t give me five minutes. And they aren’t firing blanks. What the hell is going on? He started to tear up the hill, searching anxiously for some shelter. Behind him, a shout. Then the crashing of boots on leaves, as the men in pursuit pushed on through the forest. Steve hadn’t been equipped with any weapons, but he kept
a small knife tucked into his boot. Looks like I’ll need it,” he thought bitterly. Five against one. Guns against a knife. Whoever dreamed up today’s entertainment clearly didn’t believe in a fair fight. A cave. It was straight ahead: a small opening carved into the rock. Steve paused, grabbed a tall, sturdy stick, then flung himself towards it. The stone was mossy and damp, and he had to cling to the cold walls. He walked 10 paces forwards, straight into the darkness. The cave twisted into a narrow tunnel. He cursed the fact he didn’t have any kind of torch: the rules of the game demanded the target had nothing to rely on but his wits. But wits are OK, he reminded himself. In the right hands, they could be as deadly as any weapon. He grabbed the knife from his boot, and held the stick steady between his knees. It was a birch; a strong but supple wood, easily worked. Of all the weapons man had ever devised, a spear was the oldest, and the simplest. That didn’t make it any less effective. Steve started to cut, slicing the knife into the wood, carving and cutting until the tip was turned into a sharp, lethal point. Why? he repeated to himself. Why are these bastards trying to kill me? He could feel the sweat pouring off
illustration: James taylor
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him. The cave was dark, and somewhere in the distance he could hear growling, angry voices. He wasn’t hard to track, he knew that: his boots would have left a trail through the leaves so clear it might as well be lit up in neon. They’d be here soon. He gripped the stick. Let your enemy come to you, he reminded himself. Exploit his weaknesses. Bekker? He was trying to think why the man might have a grudge against him. The Circuit, as the network of mercenaries was known, was a rough arena, full of desperate men. A decade of soldiering meant Steve had racked up plenty of enemies. There was an endless succession of corpses. And all of them had brothers, families, mates. Men with scores to settle. Revenge. This isn’t a game, it’s an assassination… A body was moving through the pale, dim light. He could see the flicker of a shadow, and smell the damp sweat on the man’s skin. Wait, he told himself. You’ll get one chance at this. He steadied himself, his muscles tightening. The man was drawing closer. Steve could hear him breathing. He was walking slowly, edging into the darkness, clearly nervous of an ambush. Suddenly there was a burst of gunfire. The flash of light from the muzzle of the AK-47. Then the snap
of bullets flying in the air, followed by lumps of hot, angry metal smashing into the rock. Steve held himself still. The man hadn’t seen him yet. He was just clearing the path. Hoping to finish off whoever lay up ahead. Fifteen rounds chipped into the rock. An AK-47 has a 30-round mag, Steve reminded himself, and although the man would have spares, he wouldn’t want to risk slotting another clip into his gun. The rifle paused. Steve could smell the acrid gunpowder in the air, and the charred metal of spent casings. The man took another step. Steve lunged forward in a swift, brutal movement. Using a spear was all about upper body strength. You leant into the weapon, so that it became an extension of yourself: a single, sharpened combination of wood and muscle, shaped into a deadly missile. He was aware the man might be wearing body armour, so there was no point in aiming for the chest. Instead, he held the spear at an angle, sending it straight upwards. The spear stabbed into the soft flesh of the neck, just above the Adam’s apple. Steve pushed and twisted, turning the stick into a drill, boring through the neck, and up into the mouth, splitting open the man’s face. He screamed once, but the assault was ripping through his vocal chords, and the sound was soon stifled. Steve thrust harder, slamming through the bone, up into the brain, ignoring the blood pouring down the stick. With a heave of the shoulders, he pushed the man aside, leaving him to die slowly in the darkness. He had the initiative now, and had no choice but to press home the advantage. He grabbed the AK, and started to run forwards. He slotted his finger onto the trigger, and as soon as he saw daylight opened fire. There were four men in front of him. A bullet caught one man in the forehead. Steve flicked the gun a fraction of a millimetre. Another bullet splintered opened a man’s chest, while the third took wounds to both his arms and legs. The clip was empty. But three more corpses lay dead on the ground. But not Bekker. He was running into the woods. The hunter becomes the prey, thought Steve with a grim smile. That’s the way this game is meant to be played. He picked up a fresh clip from one of the dead men, slotted it into his gun and started to run. Bekker was fit, and he was scared, and that combination always made a man fast. But he was also big, and heavy, and even though most of it was muscle, he still lacked the agility to weave his way through thick clumps
of trees. Steve was gaining on him all the time. Fifty yards became 40, then 30. He raised the AK-47 to his shoulder, and released a short, sharp burst of fire. It was impossible to make a completely accurate shot, not from an AK, not at this range, and not at a moving target. But you could still blast a man’s foot off, reckoned Steve. And if you killed him, that was just bad luck. Bekker stumbled. Fell. He turned around, releasing a volley of fire from his AK, but he’d taken three wounds to his leg, and one to his buttocks, and the blood was pouring out of him, making it impossible for him to focus. Steve was onto the man in a flash, kicking the gun from his hand, then jabbing the barrel of his own weapon into the man’s throat. He looked straight into Bekker’s eyes. They were cold, and dark, filled with the dread of a man who knows he’s been outwitted on the battlefield, and that the bill would be settled with his blood. “Why?” snapped Steve. Bekker turned to look at him. “Alan Tolan, 1998…” Steve though for second. The wild border country between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland. An SAS hit squad. A firefight with a renegade IRA unit. Alan Tolan was one of the casualties. And the founder of Pyramid Entertainment. Mike Tolan. The brother of the man Steve killed all those years ago. It makes sense now. “It’s murder…” “The perfect crime,” said Bekker, with a shake of the head. “We’d have erased all the tapes, and explained it away as an industrial accident.” He paused, coughing up a splutter of blood. “Except…” Steve stood up. “You chose the wrong guy.” He could kill the man if he wanted to. He wouldn’t feel so much as a twitch of regret. But Bekker was just a tool. A soldier doing his job. The same as I was, that night in the border country. Steve ripped the micro camera from his fatigues, and looked hard into the lens. “Game over,” he snapped. And then he tossed the device aside, and walked back towards the shore.
About the author
As a journalist, Matt Lynn has worked for the Sunday Times for many years and now writes a column for Bloomberg in the US and is a regular contributor to the Spectator. He is the author of Death Force and Fire Force, published by Headline. 97
ecently, I had the pleasure of visiting two of the world’s newest sporting arenas, the Aviva Stadium in Dublin and the Cowboys Stadium in Arlington, Texas. The master of Cowboys Stadium is not the Dallas Cowboys, but the team’s owner, Jerry Jones. The former college football player, who owns the Cowboys and made most of his money in offshore gas, spent the best part of $1.3billion creating one of the world’s most remarkable and most used stadiums. Jones put up close to 75 per cent of the money for Cowboys Stadium himself, controlling almost every aspect and detail of the stadium’s construction. The two large steel structures that span its length are as long as the Empire State Building is high. Even with the giant retractable roof closed – you wait 12 minutes for that to happen – the Statue of Liberty, including its base, could stand tall inside. The centrepiece of the stadium is truly all-American: a giant video scoreboard, nicknamed the JerryTron, with two 1,070m2 screens – the world’s largest HDTVs – and a further two 134m2 screens. When they played the NBA All-Star game here back in February, the playing surface was smaller than one of those large screens. (The crowd of 108,713 was also a record for a basketball game.) Basketball and American football in one place? This is part of Jones’s plan. He conceived the stadium as a multi-purpose venue. After all, the Dallas Cowboys play only 10 home games a season. Almost everything in Cowboys Stadium can be retracted, replaced or removed, from the huge glass doors at its ends, which take only six minutes longer to open than the roof does to close, to the seats and the roof and the pitch itself. So in the space of a year, the venue has hosted college football, U2 on their 360° Tour (they had to raise the
Ground Swell If you build it, they will come: Denis Hickie explains the science, and soul, of stadia JerryTron, but they got the giant claw in), motocross, Paul McCartney, boxing and bull riding. Jones is out to recoup his investment as quickly as possible, and if you want to make money when you build a stadium, this is how you do it. The downside, as many Cowboys fans and commentators have argued, is that this stadium is not the spiritual home of its team – something they realised as soon as Jones announced the Arlington site, 20 miles from Dallas. This is not an argument that applies to the Aviva Stadium in Lansdowne Road. From the day the IRFU and the FAI decided to forgo the chance to build an 80,000-seater stadium on the outskirts of Dublin, the cost of which would mostly have been covered by the sale of the Lansdowne Road site, their mandate has been very apparent: build a home for both Irish rugby and Irish soccer. So while the stadium will host concerts, conferences and more, its most profitable times are those when
it’s full and fans are watching winning teams – and the stadium has its part to play in the success. My first match for Ireland was against Wales, at Cardiff Arms Park. It was an incredible place, built especially for rugby. The noise in there was just amazing: for the first 30 minutes, I could only guess at and lip-read what my team-mates were saying. Then, in 1999, it was superseded by the Millennium Stadium, which many pros regard as rugby’s best and toughest stadium to play in. It is an out-and-out rugby ground that can also house other moneymaking events. It didn’t quite pan out like this for France. When I was a kid, I watched France v Ireland in fear. The mere mention of the Parc des Princes terrified me. The same was obviously the case for those who played there, as Ireland didn’t win a single match at the venue. When my turn came to play France in Paris, at the Stade de France, it was so vast and shiny and new, but for all the excellent facilities for players and fans alike, there was one thing missing: the atmosphere of the old place. That’s one thing you can’t just pack up and ship over when a new stadium replaces an old. So, it’s up to Ireland’s two national teams to create a new atmosphere to rival the one that made the old Lansdowne Road ground such a special place. These things can take time, but Irish rugby and soccer have given themselves a head start in the shape and site of the Aviva Stadium. Croke Park remains a truly fantastic place for sport, for teams and supporters alike, and its iconic status was not lost on any rugby or soccer team that played there, but Lansdowne Road is home for those two. Unlike Jerry Jones, the IRFU and the FAI decided that home, as it is for all of us, is where the heart is. Denis Hickie is a former Ireland rugby international and a cultural commentator
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kunde â€œIt can happen to anyone of us.â€? Ronnie Renner.
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