The future

The written word was represented in Arts Festival by Hasard, a magazine which came out of Vic and runs the cultural gamut from poetry through Red Mole song lyrics to ripping the shit out of the elitist glossy Art New Zealand. Sales were not as hoped: for some reason students have been reluctant to spend a buck on this side of the arts. Hasard will continue if supported. Copies are available at Studass and bookshops.

On Saturday a Film Seminar involving many of the country's leading filmmakers was held. An article on this will follow at a later date.

Arts Festival had a hell of a lot to offer. It was an immensely valuable cultural experience, in what we learned about arts festivals and in what we gained from the arts themselves. On the last Saturday night the Evening Post came out with a glowing editorial—too late to drum up support but a useful weapon for planning the next.

N.Z. universities are suffering from rampant parochialism. Arts Council has been served with notices of withdrawal from nearly every member body: Vic intends to pull out in March next year (more on this soon). Arts Festival is one of the few occasions students have to share experiences on a national basis.

If we are to survive outside our books we need cultural interchange, we need to be able to create and recognise [unclear: our] own identity. We need Arts Council [unclear: because] alone can maintain channels of communication. The festival organisers are to be congratulated on their dedication. We must match it.

A final question: who did come?

Paul Davis: There were no Jesus Freaks, no Hare Krishna people, no Kikies trying to get into it, and there was little if any Polynesian involvement at all. It was essentially a middle class student festival. A shame really. . . oh, we had three hippies.

Salient: How did you count the three?

Davis: Well, they were brewing up their own Ginseng tea in the cafe. . .

—Simon Wilson