“Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die.” – Amelia Burr
The sweet melancholy of our days colours our thoughts and dims the sunlight of childhood memories. Night falls early and despite the summer twilight that drags on, darkness with its velvet shades obscures the luminosity of evening skies as effectively as the curtain that falls on illuminated stage sets.
Here is the adagio from Alessandro Marcello’s "Oboe Concerto in D minor". Clare Schanks (baroque oboe), directed by Christopher Hogwood.
“I want to have a good body, but not as much as I want dessert.” - Jason Love
A short blog entry today as I am travelling for work and I am rather pressed for time. Here is a recipe for your delectation. Friends of the family gave it to us when we visited them at their farm in Zürich.
300 mL of citrus fruit yoghurt 11/2 cupfuls of icing sugar for the icing ≈1/2 cupful icing mixture chopped walnuts
Method Grease well an 18 cm square cake tin. Whisk the egg yolks and sugar until thick and creamy. Stir in the carrots, hazelnuts and rind. Sift in the flour and baking powder, folding into the mixture. Whisk the egg whites until stiff peaks form and fold into the mixture gently. Turn into the prepared cake tin and bake in a moderate oven (180˚C) for 40-45 minutes. Leave in the tin for 2-3 minutes after taking out of the oven and then turn onto a wire rack to cool. Mix the yoghurt and the icing sugar, adding enough icing mixture to make a spreadable paste. Spread on the surface of the cake and sprinkle with chopped walnuts.
“That dire disease, whose ruthless power Withers the beauty's transient flower.” - Oliver Goldsmith
Vinca major, the white periwinkle is the birthday flower for today. It symbolises tender recollections and pleasant memories. Astrologically, the plant is ruled by Venus. The vinca is rich in alkaloids, making it poisonous, but this property has also made it useful in medicine, as it has yielded two important cancer-fighting drugs, vincristine and vinblastine. These are drugs that are now used routinely in many forms of cancer chemotherapy, especially as agents in the treatment of leukaemias, lymphomas, and testicular cancer.
This brings us to our word for the day, chemotherapy, which means:
chemotherapy |ˌkēmōˈθerəpē| noun the treatment of disease by the use of chemical substances, esp. the treatment of cancer by cytotoxic and other drugs. DERIVATIVES chemotherapist |-pist| |ˈkimoʊˈθɛrəpəst|| noun ORIGIN Late 16th cent.: from French chimique or modern Latin chimicus, chymicus, from medieval Latin alchymicus, from alchimia + mid 19th cent.: from modern Latin therapia, from Greek therapeia ‘healing,’ from therapeuein ‘minister to, treat medically.
Franz Peter Schubert (1797–1828) born on this day, was an Austrian romantic composer. German lieder reached their greatest expression in his beautiful lyrical songs, especially in the great cycles Die Schöne Müllerin [Fair Maid of the Mill] (1823) and Die Winterreise [The Winter’s Journey] (1827). His symphonies are the final flowering of the classical sonata forms, and the Fifth (1816), Eighth (the Unfinished, 1822), and Ninth (1828) rank with the best orchestral music. His chamber works include the well-loved Quartet in D Minor (Death and the Maiden, 1824) and the Quintet in A Major (The Trout, 1819). Schubert also wrote stage music, choral music, Masses, and much piano music.
Unfortunately for Schubert, chemotherapy in his day was not highly developed and the drugs used in treating some common afflictions of the past were either ineffective or extremely toxic. Poor Schubert managed to contract syphilis after an unfortunate and disastrous encounter in 1822 and died at the age of 31 of this disease. Nowadays, syphilis can be treated effectively with a single injection of penicillin (or other chemotherapeutic agents, if you are allergic to penicillin).
Here is some stormy and emotionally charged music by Schubert, his famous “Erlkoenig”:
Wer reitet so spät durch Nacht und Wind? Es ist der Vater mit seinem Kind; Er hat den Knaben wohl in dem Arm, Er faßt ihn sicher, er hält ihn warm.
"Mein Sohn, was birgst du so bang dein Gesicht?" "Siehst, Vater, du den Erlkönig nicht? Den Erlenkönig mit Kron und Schweif?" "Mein Sohn, es ist ein Nebelstreif."
"Du liebes Kind, komm, geh mit mir! Gar schöne Spiele spiel' ich mit dir; Manch' bunte Blumen sind an dem Strand, Meine Mutter hat manch gülden Gewand."
"Mein Vater, mein Vater, und hörest du nicht, Was Erlenkönig mir leise verspricht?" "Sei ruhig, bleibe ruhig, mein Kind; In dürren Blättern säuselt der Wind."
"Willst, feiner Knabe, du mit mir gehn? Meine Töchter sollen dich warten schön; Meine Töchter führen den nächtlichen Reihn, Und wiegen und tanzen und singen dich ein."
"Mein Vater, mein Vater, und siehst du nicht dort Erlkönigs Töchter am düstern Ort?" "Mein Sohn, mein Sohn, ich seh es genau: Es scheinen die alten Weiden so grau."
"Ich liebe dich, mich reizt deine schöne Gestalt; Und bist du nicht willig, so brauch ich Gewalt." "Mein Vater, mein Vater, jetzt faßt er mich an! Erlkönig hat mir ein Leids getan!"
Dem Vater grauset's, er reitet geschwind, Er hält in Armen das ächzende Kind, Erreicht den Hof mit Müh' und Not; In seinen Armen das Kind war tot. The Elf King
Who rides so late through night and wind? It is the father with his child. He holds the boy safe in his arm He holds him safe, he keeps him warm.
"My son, why do you hide your face so fearfully?" "Father, do you not see the Elf king? The Elf king with crown and robe?" "My son, it's a wisp of fog."
"You lovely child, come, go with me! Nothing but beautiful games I'll play with you; Many colourful flowers are on the shore, My mother has many golden robes."
"My father, my father, can't you hear, What the Elf king quietly promises me?" "Be calm, stay calm, my child; It is the wind rustling in the dry leaves."
"Do you want to come with me, fine lad? My daughters should already be waiting for you; My daughters lead the nightly folkdance And rock you and dance and sing."
"My father, my father, and can't you see there, The Elf king daughters in the gloomy place?" "My son, my son, I see it well: It is the old grey willows gleaming."
"I love you, your beautiful form entices me; And if you're not willing, I shall use force." "My father, my father, now he takes hold of me! The Elf king has wounded me!"
It horrifies the father; he rides swiftly, Holding in his arms the moaning child. He reaches the yard with great difficulty; In his arms, the child was dead.
"If I know what love is, it is because of you." - Hermann Hesse
Many years ago when I visited Italy, I listened to a song on the radio that enchanted me. I tried in vain to find out who sang it, to listen to it again, to search for more songs by the same artist, but all my efforts proved fruitless. The lyrics impressed themselves on my mind and some years later my brain begat this version after working on the remembrance of that Italian song…
Serenata As remembered from the Italian
The pagan tribes of Araby revere the sun The Saracens all to the moon pay homage. The stars and winds in blackest Africa are adored And I my love only your eyes do worship.
In times of strife all men the saints invoke In hardship everyone to gods does turn, In tempests raging the sailors Christ recall But I my love to you in my misfortune pray.
All slaves crave for their freedom sweet, All prisoners to loose their fetters try, All cagéd birds to escape their bars attempt, And I, my love, to you myself enchain.
To war, searching for glory soldiers go, To power king and noble all would sacrifice To miser more than life the glint of gold is worth, But I my love would for your smile expire.
Enjoy the rest of your week, and visit Sans Souci’s blog for the Poetry Wednesday tour. The image accompanying the poem s called “Moon Goddess” and is by artist Susan Seddon Boulet.
“Wine hath drowned more men than the sea.” – Thomas Fuller
I am reading a book by Pauline McLynn at the moment, in case you can’t place the name, she played the inimitable Mrs Doyle in “Father Ted”, and has appeared in numerous other film, television and stage roles. Pauline McLynn grew up in Galway, and first started acting while studying history of art at Trinity College, Dublin. She has written several quirky, amusing and whodunit novels (“Summer in the City”; “Right on Time”; Better than a Rest”; Bright Lights and Promises”) and she now divides her time between London and Dublin where she lives with her husband.
The novel I am reading is called “The Woman on the Bus” (published 2005). The bus referred to in the title is the one that runs from Dublin to Limerick in Ireland. This public means of transportation never troubled the inhabitants of the village of Kilbrody much, until a mystery woman steps out of it, marches into the pub and drinks herself into unconsciousness. She finally does wake up, several days later, and discovers that not only Charlie Finn (the publican who put her to bed) but the whole village are talking about her. Her mystery disrupts the village and although the book is full of humour, it touches on some serious topics: Alcoholism, infidelity, loss…
This author’s writing style is tender and charming with the Irish warmth of a perfect Summer’s day. I am enjoying the book immensely, and even though I have not finished it yet I can recommend it wholeheartedly.
You can hear Ms McLynn in a BBC interview, talking about this book, here.
“We live in a fantasy world, a world of illusion. The great task in life is to find reality.” – Iris Murdoch
I usually hate seeing movies on airplanes. The screen is too small, the picture quality bad, the sound terrible, the lighting execrable and the interruptions legion. So I avoid it. On the flight back from Singapore, however, I could not sleep and started to watch Matthew Vaughn’s “Stardust” (2007). I was captivated as I was in that sleepless kind of mood and felt in need of a fairytale. If you have watched “The Princess Bride”, “Willow” or maybe even “Shrek”, you will enjoy “Stardust”.
The film is a fantasy for adults (which precocious children will also enjoy!) and is full of magic and witchcraft, heroes and villains, strange beasts and delightful characters. The plot revolves around Tristan, a young man on a quest to find a fallen star and bring it back to Victoria, the vain woman he loves as proof of his love for her. The star has fallen on the other side of “The Wall”, a magic doorway between England and a fairy kingdom called Stormhold.
The cast is well picked and The three I enjoyed the most was Michelle Pfeiffer, playing the evil witch, Lamia; Robert de Niro playing Captain Shakespeare, a pirate with a curious dress sense and Ricky Gervais as a receiver of stolen goods. A cameo performance by Peter O’ Toole is also a highlight and the two romantic leads Clare Danes and Charlie Cox are convincing. The film is quirky and humorous, adventurous and bewitching and just the right sort of fluff to watch when you are in that “Fairy tale” sort of mood…
“The traveller sees what he sees. The tourist sees what he has come to see.” - G.K. Chesterton
One of the pleasant surprises I have had in Singapore over the years that I have visited here is the palpable development in the Arts scene. Looking over the past twenty years or so, one becomes aware of a tremendous progress and increasing diversity in cultural events and increasing numbers of art venues that are available to both local inhabitant and visitor. The National Museum of Singapore, the Singapore Art Museum and the Asian Civilisations Museum have all opened their doors in the last 15 years and they are now added to the more traditional art spaces such as the Singapore Art Gallery and the Esplanade Theatres on the Bay.
The range of arts activities has also been increasing, in response to a growing interest among the population and visitors. In the last ten years, total arts activities have more then trebled in terms of total performances and exhibition days. Attendance at arts events has also increased at the same rate. In the last five years, the Singapore government has invested some $120 million (US$76 million) per year in arts and culture. This amount goes towards supporting arts development through grants for arts programmes, the running of museums and museum programmes, and the promotion of arts and heritage in the community.
The National Art Gallery of Singapore will be a new visual arts institution, which will contribute to building Singapore as a regional and international hub for visual arts. This institution will focus on the display, promotion, research and study of Southeast Asian art including Singapore art, as well as play host to international art exhibitions. It will be housed in two colonial buildings that are being refurbished and remodelled to make them suitable for an exhibition space. The two buildings are the City Hall (built 1929) and the former Supreme Court building (built 1930-9).
With its Southeast Asian focus, the new National Art Gallery aims to be accessible to its visitors and users, in physical, intellectual, cultural, social and virtual terms. The National Art Gallery will provide a regional cultural backdrop, broad interpretation framework for understanding Singapore’s culture and heritage in the context of visual arts development in the regional and international arts scene.
The National Museum in Singapore is currently hosting a travelling exhibition, “Greek Masterpieces from the Louvre”. It features 130 exquisite artworks ranging from classic sculptures to painted vases, from the Louvre museum’s Greek and Hellenistic galleries, which are undergoing refurbishment. The Louvre rarely loans more than a dozen items from any department at a time. This is the first time the Greek artefacts have been shipped out for exhibition since they were acquired 200 years ago. The showcase, which has gone to China and Japan in the past, also marks the first time the Louvre will display its works in South-East Asia. It’s one of the most costly programmes undertaken by the National Museum of Singapore. A professional group of art handlers and staff from the exhibition, curatorial and conservation staff from the Louvre, the National Museum and its Heritage Conservation Centre will manage the installation of the priceless works, some which weigh between 100 to 460 kilograms, with the two tallest sculptures being 2.1 metres high.
It was a pleasure to view this exhibition and it brought back memories of visiting the Louvre, but also memories of trips to Greece where similar treasures are exhibited in the National Museum of Athens. However, this travelling exhibition is not the only attraction of the Museum of Singapore, there many more treasures to see from the permanent collections. These include some significant historical material from the City’s past, some excellent photographs as well as exhibitions on “living history” with features of fashion, food, film and Chinese Opera. A very interesting place to visit!
This is our last day in Singapore. We are catching a plane back to Melbourne this evening, so from Monday morning things are back to normal, with a Movie Monday blog. Hope you have enjoyed the travel blogs.
Here is a video that I found on YouTube that gives you a little taste of the diversity of Singapore. Once again I iterate that the varied mix of the population of Singapore is one of its most attractive features.
“The greatest gift of the garden is the restoration of the five senses.” - Hanna Rion
If you read this blog, you probably know that I start my day with a morning walk. I try to do this even when travelling and it is certainly a good idea, as adherence to some sort of routine, especially when away from home makes one more comfortable with one’s surroundings straight away. This morning we walked to the Singapore Botanic Gardens. This is a favourite place of ours in Singapore and definitely an attraction not to be missed when visiting here. I like Botanic Gardens much more than zoos and one certainly is more comfortable with plants being confined in a garden than animals being confined in a zoo.
The Gardens are situated within walking distance (about 30 mins) from the main shopping strip of Orchard Rd, but one does not see too many tourists here (well, perhaps not the ones who do all of their walking up and down the malls of Orchard Rd!). The Gardens were founded in 1859 with a mission to cultivate plants of economic potential, but soon plants cultivated for their beauty or unusual features were also grown here. The Singapore Botanic Gardens made a historic milestone in 1877 with the cultivation of Malaysia's and Indonesia's first rubber plantations.
At present, the Gardens have more than 600,000 plant specimens, cultivated in a massive 52-hectare site. This is certainly one the world's largest botanical reserves and a beautiful destination for the traveler in search of peace and relaxation as well as a fantastic introduction to the flora of tropical climates. The park provides a comprehensive introduction to plants in a variety of settings, from rolling lawns and orchid gardens to a tropical jungle. Other attractions include the National Orchid Garden, Visitors Centre, tea room, spice and herb gardens, and the eco-lake. A SGD35-million redevelopment plan is currently underway to make the park's plant collections more accessible to the public.
If you like orchids, there is no better place to go than the Orchid Garden. Although entry to the Botanic Gardens is free, there is an (extremely reasonable!) SGD $5 entry charge for the Orchid Garden. One is astounded by the amazing variety of orchids growing in profusion throughout the garden and the fantastic arrays of bed upon bed of flowers, exotic as well as native. Cool houses, mist houses, open garden beds, orchids in pots, in beds, on trees, on pieces of wood, suspended overhead, all are represented and provide an overwhelming introduction to this fascinating group of plants.
It is easy to forget time as one wanders around the impeccably manicured lawns, rests under the shade of magnificent trees and revels in the fragrance of countless tropical blooms of every hue. The cries of colourful birds overhead mingle with the trickling sounds of water playing in many fountains throughout the Gardens and the delighted cries of children feeding the swans and the carp in the lakes and ponds here and there. If ever one was to behold a vision of Eden on earth, one could not go wrong if they stopped by these Gardens.
“To live is not to live for one's self alone; let us help one another.” - Menander
It was a rather full on day at the conference today with workshops and discussions with the delegates. One of the good things about attending such conferences is that one gets to meet many people from all around the world, and these are people who share one’s own passions about the field one works in. The conference has delegates from all over the world, and even though it is primarily an Asia/Pacific conference, it has delegates from the Americas, Europe and Africa also.
I met a delegate from Nepal who is very keen to collaborate with me as she is in the process of redesigning a medical school curriculum in her University and some of the work that I have been carrying out could be used there. She mentioned that they have many people from all over the world working on the project and that it has so far been very successful thanks to the expertise they bring to it. I think it is fantastic that we can work together on international projects like this, which allow us to transcend national barriers and work towards a global common good.
Working in the academic field, I am perhaps a little spoilt as I meet people who are idealistic, devoted to teaching and learning, research, and of course are like me, citizens of the world. The question is, what strategy can we use to spread this attitude outside this select group? I think given time, it is not an unlikely or far-fetched scenario. At this stage in history the world is being threatened with many global problems that require world collaboration in order to resolve them. We are isolationist and non-cooperational, not only at our own risk, but also globally.
Our only salvation is by building bridges across the divides of nationality and language, by tolerating differences in religion and political idealism, by understanding people’s different needs and wants, by accepting that all people of all races have the same rights and privileges.
“The sanity of society is a balance of a thousand insanities.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson
Last time I was in Singapore was two years ago when I was attending another conference at the University here. I have visited Singapore on many other occasions before that. What has struck me this time around is the change that is evident. Singaporean society has undergone rather a radical change (relatively speaking, for this extremely conservative country). One still sees the T-shirts for sale in shops and markets that in a jocular vein outline all of the by-laws that prohibit certain behaviours (eg: No spitting in public, no chewing gum, no loitering, no smoking, no littering, etc, etc). This may have been the reason for the “manicured” appearance of Singapore and the relatively low crime rate.
This time round, I have noticed a distinct change. There is litter in the streets, people are beginning to dress more adventurously, body piercing and tattooing are beginning to be seen more frequently, a more liberal attitude is being taken towards what has traditionally been unacceptable behaviour. Personal freedoms have increased, to be sure, but at the same time this has made Singapore begin to go the way of Hong Kong, say, or of Bangkok. Still a long way away from the organised chaos of these two cities, but Singapore is not the Singapore of old.
This may be a good thing and a bad thing. I am certainly one to support the increase of personal freedoms; I think that if there are more avenues for personal expression it is a good thing, but also one needs to be aware that if these freedoms are taken to extremes, then the beneficial effects for the community may decrease. The more people are allowed to place “self” before the “sum total” of society, then the more one may see any individual’s contribution to the whole reduce. It is a fortunate society in which every individual is allowed maximum personal freedom, is able to exercise their right of self-expression and follow personal goals, but at the same time each individual contributes fully to society and the good of all.
I think that when comparing Singapore to most Western nations, one is still impressed by the more regimented, structured, controlled (and even contrived) way that this Asian society functions. Introducing elements of increased individuality, more personal freedom, increased self-expression will certainly improve the way that a Westerner views the fabric of this society, but how will a Singaporean react to this further shift toward “westernisation"? One must remember that the racial and cultural mix of Singapore is quite broad and a happy co-existence of all these different strands in the thread of society may depend to a large extent on a regimented, controlled and closely monitored lifestyle.
This morning I had to go to the National University of Singapore as I had to attend a couple of pre-conference meetings. The University is one of the magnificent achievements of this island republic and comprises a well-appointed modern campus with numerous faculties, schools, and departments. It is run on the British model and its graduates are well-regarded internationally. The Faculty of Medicine, where I am attending the conference and symposia is well-equipped and staffed and is associated with the nearby National University Hospital, a teaching hospital to which not only the locals, but people from many parts of Asia are attracted for quality health care and surgery.
The campus is quite pretty, the lush vegetation alternating with modern, comfortable buildings that are well-maintained and resourced. I think of the boons of being an academic is the contacts one makes world-wide and the feeling of collegiality and cordiality one enjoys when visiting other academic institutions in other parts of the world. My meetings progressed well and I was able to return to the hotel by early afternoon. Many of the tourist-associated activities, shops and facilities that are geared towards to the visitor have hours that reflect a holiday lifestyle (i.e. most shops open somewhere around 10:30 a.m. and close late).
In the afternoon we visited Chinatown. Tonight is the full moon and this marks the occasion of the Buddhist New Year. As we are approaching the new moon on February 7th, which is the Chinese New Year, the preparations for the festivities in Singapore will reach a climax. The Chinese calendar is basically lunar, its year consisting of 12 months of alternately 29 and 30 days, equal to 354 days, or approximately 12 full lunar cycles. Intercalary months have been inserted to keep the calendar year in step with the solar year of about 365 days. Months are referred to by number within a year and sometimes also by a series of 12 animal names that from ancient times have been attached to years and to hours of the day. These names in order are rat, ox, tiger, hare, dragon, snake, horse, sheep, monkey, fowl, dog, and pig. The Chinese year 4698 (which arrived on Feb. 5, 2000, by the Gregorian calendar) was the Year of the Dragon. 2007 was the year of the pig and 2008 begins the cycle once again with the year of the rat.
The streets and shops throughout Singapore are decorated with red festoons, lanterns, rows of red firecrackers, rows of artificial gold nuggets, peaches and mandarins, as well as other symbols of long life and prosperity. Traditional sweetmeats and other foods especially made for this time of the year are for sale everywhere and people are preparing for this springtime holiday (rather pointless in this land of eternal summer). We were rather shocked by the gift packs available for purchase in some of the shops. It is not a cheap undertaking! A so-called “platinum” gift pack containing special cakes, cookies, canned abalone, brandy, mandarins and other comestibles all packed in a leatherette box costs nearly $1,000 Singapore dollars (about $790 Australian dollars or $700 US dollars)!
In Chinatown there is the Temple of Budhha’s Tooth, a magnificent pagoda of many stories housing many a statue of the Buddha in a multitude of sizes and poses. On this occasion of the Buddhist New Year, the temple was full of people worshipping and praying, schoolchildren visiting and tourists thronging. Hundreds of red lanterns adorned the temple perimeter under its eaves and numerous floats with many a scene full of chubby children brought to mind the Buddha’s childhood. The market around the temple was full and noisy, a flurry of colours and a cacophony of sounds, jostling crowds and touting stall holders. Red, red, red everywhere red lanterns, red badges, red bunting and festoons, red decorations and streamers.
Traditional foods filled the market with great piles of pomelos (shaddocks, Citrus maxima), the largest of the citrus fruits, green and large as a volleyball. Mandarins, pumpkins and gourds, sweets of all kinds, cakes, biscuits and candies. Great bags of pumpkin seeds of varied colours, flavours and appearance, smoked ducks, pickled and cured meats, sausages and cans of abalone. The festive table need be full of fancy and expensive foods!
"Observe good faith and justice toward all nations. Cultivate peace and harmony with all." - George Washington
Singapore City is the capital of the Republic of Singapore. The city itself occupies the southern part of Singapore Island. From ancient times, its strategic position on the strait between the Indian Ocean and South China Sea, complemented by its deepwater harbour, has made it the largest port in Southeast Asia and one of the world’s greatest commercial centres. The city, which was once a distinct entity, became the dominating force of this relatively small island (699 square km), so that the Republic of Singapore essentially became a city-state. The passage of time allowed the city to prosper and expand, and its commercial success ensured that the city is now one of the most affluent in Asia.
Singapore is also known as the “Lion City” (“Singa Pura” as this name means) or “Garden City,” aptly so for its many parks and tree-lined streets. The city has also been called “Instant Asia” because it offers the tourist a direct glimpse into the cultures brought to it by immigrants from all parts of Asia. While predominantly Chinese, Singapore has substantial minorities of Malays and Indians (as well as many expatriate Europeans, Americans and Australians).
According to Malay tradition, the island was visited by a prince who came from the Sumatran empire of Śri Vijaya and founded it, naming the city Singapura. Portuguese records also have it that the city was founded by a Śri Vijayan prince from Palembang. Sacked by the Majapahit Javanese during the 14th century, it was supplanted by Malacca (Melaka) but remained a port of call. Its modern history began with the arrival of Sir Stamford Raffles of the British East India Company, who, in searching for a trading site, landed here on January 29, 1819. The port's growth was steady, and the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869 and the advent of steamships increased its importance as a bunkering station. Its growth was assured by the demand for the tin and rubber of the Malay Peninsula, for which the port was a natural shipping outlet.
Created a city by royal charter in 1951, Singapore was administered as a municipality by an elected mayor-council government from 1957 until 1959, when the colony became self-governing. After 1963 the administration of the city and rural areas was handled by the central government. Once a British colony and now a member of the Commonwealth, Singapore first joined the Federation of Malaysia on its formation in 1963 but seceded to become an independent state on Aug. 9, 1965. Today Singapore has close to 5 million inhabitants, most them living in the city.
Singapore's port area, one of the world's largest, covers 93 square km and the Port of Singapore Authority operates six gateways that provide facilities for vessels ranging from oceangoing liners to lighters. The Keppel wharves, which lie protected between the islands of Brani and Sentosa, are deepwater and contain major docks and warehouses. Keppel is Southeast Asia's major trans-shipment point for exports of oil, rubber, plywood, lumber, and spices. The port's main imports include machinery, textiles, and rice. The Malayan rail system from Bangkok and Kuala Lumpur terminates at Singapore. Singapore's thriving banking, insurance, and brokerage firms and its excellent transport, communications, and storage facilities have helped make it the chief trading and financial centre of Southeast Asia.
The traditional city proper stretches north and east of the port area and is characterized by low hills. Within the city run the Singapore and Rochor rivers, which are tidal inlets crowded with native craft. The original settlement north of the Singapore River remains the heart of the city; it is the locale of the principal commercial, government, and public buildings, the Anglican St. Andrew's Cathedral (1862), and the Raffles Hotel. Modern housing estates have cut into some of the city's traditional cultural enclaves, especially the Chinese quarter. Skyscraper hotels and office buildings now blend with the British colonial architecture, Chinese shophouses, and Malay kampongs (villages once thatch-roofed, now tin-roofed).
Singapore is an interesting Asian city to visit, not only because of its cosmopolitan lifestyle and fascinating mixture of cultures and peoples, but also because of its low crime rate, its good range of cultural and natural beauties and of course, as most people seem to think, the good shopping here. One can find all sorts of things to do in this city, as active or as leisurely as one likes. I personally like it because it offers the modern alongside with the historic, the Western married to the Eastern, the contrasting features of the best and worst of occidental and oriental.
One may choose to stay in the bustling Orchard St area, which is absolutely crammed with shopping malls, entertainment complexes and high-rise buildings. Another choice is the City proper area, with a more sophisticated atmosphere and quite a few historical attractions, including the legacies of Singapore’s British colonial past. Towards the port, an area full of business and the rush of traffic, as well as many offices and tall buildings. The island of Sentosa offers another place to stay with numerous resort-style hotels and a relaxed holiday-like lifestyle, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. One may choose a hotel in Chinatown, where the Chinese element is most pronounced, with many markets, specialist shops, traditional businesses, restaurants and temples. Little India is another district with its many Indian shops and temples. Nearby, many Malay-owned businesses, mosques and cultural centres, shopping malls and markets.
Walking around the city is the best way to see everything and one may experience an ever-changing kaleidoscope of images, sounds and smells. Freshly brewed coffee quickly gives way to a mixture of pungent spices and an almost putrid smell of smoked meat and stir-fried vegetables. The scent of incense and sandalwood is chased away by the sharp aroma of toasting garlic; tropical flowers redolent with heady perfume are quickly succeeded by wafting sewerage smells from the slowly flowing waters of a canal nearby. Multihued traditional saris are found side by side with the latest European fashions, the bright red of Chinese ceremonial gowns contrast with the simple white garments of the Imams of mosques. The chanting of the praying muezzin is interlocked with the tinkling of bells from a Chinese temple, while a Hindu holy man intones deep-voiced prayers. The constant hum of traffic is in the background and every now and then, one may hear the banging and clanging of construction, which is ever so prominent in many parts of the city.
So this Monday was one of wanderings and meanderings for us. A rediscovery of the City that we have visited several times in the past and which is once again as welcoming as the last time one has visited here. There are several offices around the City operated by the Singapore Tourist Organisation, and which provide excellent materials and ever-cheerful help from well-trained staff. One may obtain useful information right from Changi Airport (easily the best airport in the world!), or several bureaux around the City. There is a well-situated one on Orchard Rd, but also many others.
We started the morning with a good breakfast at our hotel and then walked for about seven hours (with a couple of stops, sure enough)! We are staying at the Marriott in Orchard Rd (OK as far as big hotels go, but rather too profit-driven and impersonal – I can’t complain as it was booked by work) and we decided to walk to Little India. We took a rather circuitous route and digressed up through the Emerald Hill area, which is off Orchard Rd and has some delightful old houses, beautifully restored. One can still find quite a few colonial buildings in Singapore, although the impression one gets immediately is of an ultra modern city full of skyscrapers and high-rise apartment buildings.
The vegetation even in the busiest and most central part of the city is amazing. The high temperatures and humidity year-round make for a greenhouse environment with lush results. Indoor plants that we cosset and struggle to keep alive at home thrive like weeds here, even on the roadside. Tall trees of a resplendent green hue, marvellous flowers of every colour and the twittering of birds remind one that the tropical jungle that covered the island initially is biding its time to spring back and reclaim the land on which skyscrapers are built.
Singapore's notable buildings include the Victoria Theatre and Memorial Hall, the High Court, the City Hall, the House of Jade, the Sri Mariamman Temple, and the Singapore Polytechnic. The government maintains a national museum, library, and theatre and the Van Kleef Aquarium. The international airport at Changi (opened in 1981) was developed on reclaimed land to the northeast. The Singapore Botanic Gardens are to the northwest. The National University of Singapore was founded in 1980 by the merger of the University of Singapore and Nanyang University. The Nanyang Technological Institute was established in the former Nanyang University in 1981. Tiger Balm Gardens is a collection of statuary depicting Chinese myths and legends. Other attractions include the Jurong Bird Park (opened 1971). Its 20 hectare area make it perhaps the largest park of its kind in the world. It houses some 600 species of birds. Sentosa Island in Singapore Harbour has been developed as a major recreational area; it is connected by cable car with Mount Faber and is also accessible by ferry, providing visitors with beaches, a golf course, and an amusement park.
Tomorrow I’m leaving for a work related trip to Singapore for a week. I am attending a couple of symposia and also I a presenting at a medical conference at the University of Singapore. Singapore is the Switzerland of Asia and I always enjoy visiting. Although most Westerners are familiar with the Orchard Rd area where the major shopping malls are, Singapore is not just Orchard Rd and there a numerous nooks and crannies where one may discover all sorts of surprising cultural and natural beauty spots. More of that from my travel blogs next week.
Here in Melbourne we are having a nicely wet Saturday. It is so good to see the rain falling down, even though it is not heavy. Anything that comes down to refresh our gardens is welcome! Despite the wet weather we had our regulation hour-long walk, which today was prolonged to 90 minutes. At 6:30 am the overnight rain had stopped and everything was wonderfully wet and freshly washed, with a glorious wet earth smell on top of which the aroma of Eucalyptus and lemon-scented gums added a fragrant note. The streets were deserted and only the odd car was passing by every 5 minutes or so. The temperature was relatively high, so the climactic conditions were reminiscent of the tropics.
To start one’s day with a brisk walk does wonders for one’s health. New studies show that even a 30-minute brisk walk 6 days a week is enough to trim waistlines (when combined with a healthy diet, of course) and to prevent the so-called “metabolic syndrome” associated with obesity, diabetes mellitus, high blood pressure and heart disease risk. One should aim to walk at least about 20 km a week so as to gain significant health benefits. If you are a jogger, doing about 30 km a week, you reduce your metabolic syndrome risks even more.
Interestingly enough, these studies show that people who do short bursts of very vigorous exercise (e.g. in a gym), do not improve their risk of developing metabolic syndrome, especially if these periods of exercise are performed occasionally (i.e. ever two or three days). The other risks that very vigorous exercise and running carry is the musculoskeletal system disease risk. For example, runners can damage their joints and develop osteoarthritis earlier and more severely than those who exercise gently, e.g. walking.
Seeing I’ve talked about walking today and it is Song Saturday, how about a walking song? Here is Tchaikovsky’s “Andante Cantabile” from his String Quartet In D Major, Op. 11, arranged for the Rastrelli Cello Quartet. Andante means a “walking pace” in music and “Cantabile” implies that the piece should be played in a singing manner. Truly beautiful interpretation here, enjoy!
"A world without tomatoes is like a string quartet without violins." - Laurie Colwin
Friday is the day that I usually talk about food and tonight is devoted to purslane, Portulaca oleracea, as it is the birthday plant for this day. The generic name is derived from the Latin “milk-carrying” relating to the milky sap that exudes from the cut stem of some species. The plant has been used as a salad plant for centuries and the famous French soup, potage bonne femme is made with purslane and sorrel. The herb strewn around one’s bed was supposed to protect the sleeper from death by lightning or by gunpowder. Astrologically it is a herb of the moon. The plant symbolises loquacity and its consumption in quantity supposedly makes one verbose.
TOMATO, CUCUMBER AND PURSLANE SALAD
Ingredients 4 ripe tomatoes 2 Lebanese cucumbers (baby cucumbers) 1 handful of roughly chopped fresh, washed purslane (pick only the young, flowerless tops) 1 medium sized onion 1 small sweet green capsicum some chunks of cheese (blue vein is nice or you may like a cheddar better) pickled capers, dried oregano, salt and pepper 1/2 cupful olive oil 1/3 cupful of balsamic vinegar
Method Scald the 3 tomatoes and peel them. Chop into segments in a salad bowl. Peel the cucumbers and cut into slices, mixing with the tomatoes. Add the purslane, the finely chopped onion, herbs, the seasonings and capers. Mix well. In a small bowl mix the oil with the vinegar and grate into it the remaining tomato. Pour this dressing over the salad and mix again. Garnish with finely sliced green capsicum and the chunks of cheese.
This was our dinner tonight and all of the ingredients (well, almost as we don’t make our own cheese and oil!) were from our back garden! Each person had their own plate and it was accompanied by Italian foccacia bread that we toasted. It is so nice to dunk the chunks of bread into the salad juices and by the end of the meal the plates are so clean they almost need no washing! ;-) A surprisingly filling and nutritious meal that is also so good for you. Research suggests that consuming vinegar or lemon juice with meals is good for lowering blood lipid levels.
Despite the drought, our back garden is doing very well with the reclaimed water we use. We have tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, salad greens, purslane, eggplants, green beans and all of these in amongst the rose bushes and other flowers! Summer is a good time to be planting and enjoying vegetables.
"A true conservationist is a man who knows that the world is not given by his fathers but borrowed from his children. - J.J. Audubon
A series of fortuitous coincidences has resulted in this rather unlikely scenario being enacted in our front yard this morning. Yes, we were laying carpet on the front lawn this morning – isn’t it easier to vacuum the carpet than mow the lawn? Only joking. It all has to do with our drought, of course and the imperative need to conserve our dwindling resources. In the colonial days when our climate here Southern Australia was much different (a lot wetter for one), the British immigrants who arrived wanted to shape this country into a slice of their homeland. So the native plants were uprooted, land was levelled, rivers diverted and huge plantings of European trees were effected on great expanses of manicured lawns. Ashes and beeches, oaks and elms…
We still try and preserve the great historic plantings in Melbourne’s large public parks and gardens, avenues and boulevards (Melbourne still has a healthy elm population, while in Europe, Dutch elm disease has decimated the trees), however, in house gardens it’s a different story. In the recent couple of decades our weather has progressively deteriorated and it is seldom one sees a green lawn. We can only water our gardens two days a week and even that between 6:00-8:00 am. Lawns are not to be watered and people are encouraged to plant native gardens, which tend to require very little water. We recycle quite a lot of our water and more and more people are putting in rainwater tanks.
Now, how did we end up carpeting our lawn? A colleague at work was asking if anybody wanted some river pebbles that he was getting rid of. I immediately put my hand, up as this little windfall of pebbles had given me ideas. On our morning walk, we then spotted the carpet and the rest is history. No more mowing, no watering and it will have a Zen-like effect (I hope) whenever I contemplate it.
The word of the day is apt:
conservation |ˌkänsərˈvā sh ən| noun the action of conserving something, in particular • preservation, protection, or restoration of the natural environment, natural ecosystems, vegetation, and wildlife. • preservation, repair, and prevention of deterioration of archaeological, historical, and cultural sites and artifacts. • prevention of excessive or wasteful use of a resource. • Physics the principle by which the total value of a physical quantity (such as energy, mass, or linear or angular momentum) remains constant in a system.
DERIVATIVES conservational |- sh ənl| |ˈkɑnsərˈveɪʃnəl| |ˈkɑnsərˈveɪʃənl| adjective ORIGIN late Middle English (in the general sense [conserving, preservation] ): from Latin conservatio(n-), from the verb conservare.
“A great many people now reading and writing would be better employed keeping rabbits.” – Edith Sitwell
For amusement and entertainment, how can we go wrong if we were to choose Dame Edith Sitwell’s poetry? I am in need of some frivolity at the moment, so here is my choice for Poetry Tuesday, still wonderfully hosted by Sans Souci!
Edith Sitwell (1907-1964) was an amazing proponent of the English poetic avant garde in the first half of the 20th century, a champion of modernity who revelled in shocking and courting her readers, with clever tactics designed to push the boundaries of poetry. Her (per)verse writings succeeded in angering traditionalists of the time, but nowadays we regard them with as much pleasure as she had in putting them to paper.
Aubade (1923)
Jane, Jane, Tall as a crane, The morning light creaks down again; Comb your cockscomb-ragged hair, Jane, Jane, come down the stair. Each dull blunt wooden stalactite Of rain creaks, hardened by the light, Sounding like an overtone From some lonely world unknown. But the creaking empty light Will never harden into sight, Will never penetrate your brain With overtones like the blunt rain. The light would show (if it could harden) Eternities of kitchen garden, Cockscomb flowers that none will pluck, And wooden flowers that ‘gin to cluck. In the kitchen you must light Flames as staring, red and white, As carrots or as turnips shining Where the cold dawn light lies whining. Cockscomb hair on the cold wind Hangs limp, turns the milk’s weak mind… Jane, Jane, Tall as a crane, The morning light creaks down again!
Dame Edith Sitwell From Bucolic Comedies | 1923
The Fan (1923)
Lovely Semiramis Closes her slanting eyes: Dead is she long ago. From her fan, sliding slow, Parrot-bright fire’s feathers, Gilded as June weathers, Plumes bright and shrill as grass Twinkle down; as they pass Through the green glooms in Hell Fruits with a tuneful smell, Grapes like an emerald rain, Where the full moon has lain, Greengages bright as grass, Melons as cold as glass, Piled on each gilded booth, Feel their cheeks growing smooth. Apes in plumed head-dresses Whence the bright heat hisses,— Nubian faces, sly Pursing mouth, slanting eye, Feel the Arabian Winds floating from the fan.
Dame Edith Sitwell
Edith Louisa Sitwell was born in 1887 to an aristocratic family and she spent most of her childhood at her parents' home Renishaw Hall in Derbyshire. The first child and only daughter of an unhappy marriage, Edith never gained the respect and compassion that her brothers Osbert (born in 1892) and Sacheverell (born in 1897) experienced from their parents. She was educated at home and began writing poetry when she was about twenty, but the major change in her life came when she moved to London in 1914 to share a flat with Helen Rootham, her former governess.
Through her poetry, Sitwell challenged prevailing twentieth century British attitudes concerning literature and poetry. Sitwell's satiric poetry contradicted the bucolic, Georgian poetry of the day. In 1915, Sitwell published her first collection “The Mother and Other Poems”, although her role as editor of Wheels, an anthology of contemporary works published in 1916, gained her the most notoriety. She also used her poetic talents to oppose England's role in the first World War, and wrote politically dissident poetry at the end of World War II, specifically, "Still Falls the Rain" from Street Songs (1942), about bombing raids in London, and "Three Poems of the Atomic Age," based on the bombing of Hiroshima.
Not only was Sitwell a talented political poet, but she was a talented performer as well. Allanah Harper, founder of Echanges, described Edith Sitwell during a performance writing "she began to recite and a window opened onto an enchanted world. Each vowel and consonant flowed and she seemed to weave her poetry in the air. The world became heightened and transformed until I could see a whole landscape there behind her eyes." Sitwell's melodic voice coupled with highly syncopated lyrics lead to the success of her most famous work “Façade” (1922). Intended to be performed, instead of silently read, the poems of Façade focused on the sound and effect of chosen words instead of their meaning. The poems in Gold Coast Customs (1929) capitalized on rhythm just as in “Façade”, but they demonstrated a political seriousness absent from the previous work.
During the mid-1920s, Sitwell and her roommate Helen Rootham traveled frequently to Paris to visit Helen's sister Evelyn Weil. In Paris, Sitwell found a city filled with creativity and artistic talents, some of whom became influential friends, including Gertrude Stein. Sitwell enjoyed Gertrude's work and championed the modernist poet's 1926 Oxford and Cambridge lectures which effectively raised Gertrude's literary profile in Britain. It was in Gertrude's salon that Sitwell met the surrealist painter Pavel Tchelitchew, with whom she would enter perhaps her most important, yet often unfulfilling, relationship.
To Pavel Tchelitchew, a Russian émigré and artist, she was both a patron and muse. Unfortunately for Sitwell, Pavel's interest in her was purely intellectual, and possibly financial. The charming, passionate, and sometimes moody Pavel directed his amorous attention to the young American pianist, Allen Tanner, and eventually to Charles Henri Ford. Despite her difficulties with Pavel and her roommate Helen Rootham, whose ill-health and demanding nature caused much of Sitwell's anxiety, Sitwell managed to compile “The English Eccentrics” (1933) and the controversial “Aspects of Modern Poetry” (1934).
Sitwell's relationships with other literary figures were much less hostile than her relationship with Pavel. She became patron to other authors, including Dylan Thomas, was close friends with poets H. D. (Hilda Doolittle) and Bryher, and became the goddaughter of Evelyn Waugh and Roy Campbell after her conversion to Catholicism in 1955.
In the 1930s Sitwell shifted her literary efforts from poetry toward prose after the success of her well-received historical biography “Alexander Pope” (1930). Sitwell's other historical biographies, “Victoria of England” (1936), “Fanfare for Elizabeth” (1946), and its sequel “The Queens and the Hive” (1962), are some of her best known works of prose. “I Live under a Black Sun” (1937), her only published novel, came out the year her mother died.
During the early 1950s, Edith Sitwell received numerous honours. Four honorary doctorates from Leeds, Durham, Oxford, and Sheffield universities were bestowed upon her. In 1954, she was made Dame Commander of the British Empire in the Queen's birthday honours list.
Failing health and troubles with Osbert's lover David Horner forced Sitwell to move away from her childhood home in Renishaw and spend the final years of her life in a small flat and, later, a Queen Anne style cottage she called "Bryher House" in Hempstead. During her later years, with the help of her personal assistant Elizabeth Salter, Edith published her final volume of poetry “The Outcasts” (1962) and the sequel to “Fanfare for Elizabeth”, “The Queens and the Hive” (1962). Sitwell died in 1964 and her autobiography “Taken Care Of” was published posthumously in 1965.
"Murder may pass unpunish'd for a time, But tardy justice will o'ertake the crime." - John Dryden
I am currently reading an excellent novel by author Frances Fyfield, called: “Undercurrents”. The author is a criminal lawyer who lives and practices in London, where many of her books are set. She is the author of more than seven suspense novels, including “Shadow Play” and “Without Consent”. “Undercurrents” is a rich psychological drama and concerns a shy and retiring American Henry Evans who twenty years after seeing Francesca, the woman of his life leave on a bus while they were both backpacking through India, wishes he had asked her not to leave. Only after the bus left did Henry realize he truly loved Francesca Chisholm, and his mad dash after the departing bus was in vain. All his life, Henry reminisces, he has been wisely running away from events and objects as well as people. As the story opens, Henry is in the English coastal town of Warbling seeking Francesca, where he learns she is in prison for the murder of her child.
This is a very low-key start to an emotional thriller, which grabs one attention and fires one’s imagination. The language is rich and fruity like a moist, spicy cake studded with raisins and the pace begins at a relaxed, slow amble but gains momentum as the horror that Henry is confronted with reveals itself. Here is a short extract from Chapter 1:
“Outside the station, the wind tore at his coat like a mauling dog. The rain skittered in the eddies of wind to scratch at his face and hat. His suitcase was ballast, lifting from his shoulder and leading him in a sideways-sloping spring across the carpark. It defied the mild sense of triumph he had felt in alighting from the train at all, beating the challenge of the antiquated door as the carriage lurched to a halt in front of a sign so obscure he could scarcely read it. warbling, a name like a dowdy bird. Doctor Henry Evans, poetry-loving scientist, with impeccable transatlantic credentials and comfortable North American lifestyle, felt himself unfairly fooled by the weather and did not enjoy the sensation of being outwitted. He congratulated himself briefly at the same time for that level of preparation which was his own hallmark. He had purchased a map; he had listened carefully to telephone instructions and he knew precisely where he was going.
Rain, spitting at him with renewed vigor. You can't miss it, squire. Straight down the road by the station until you reach the sea; turn left. Big hotel, squire. Nelson stayed there long before they built the pier. Henry had enjoyed the train, dirty though it was. At least he could open the window and breathe. He hated to be inside those capsules of transport where he had no control.
And he craved his first sight of the sea. His was a landlocked heart, in love with gentle ocean sounds. He could see it in his mind's eye, calm and dark, moody with moonlight and full of inspiration. The shops on his route were small and, in the shuttered darkness, less than quaint. He noticed a deserted cinema with posters of films he thought he might have seen a decade since, a forlorn wine bar with single occupant, the closed premises of a post office apparently doubling as a pharmacy and a florist's without flowers, but apart from a couple of illuminated signs, the only significant lights were the Belisha beacons where the road dipped into a pedestrian crossing before rising toward the sea. The yellow globes winked at a lone woman who waited as if needing some extra sign which would give her license to cross an empty road. She was followed at a distance by a big, black dog, which did not seem to belong. Henry nodded and said hi. There was no response, reminding him of another feature about the natives he had encountered so far. They were not so much rude as preoccupied at any given time. They would not ignore the outstretched hand if you waved it right in front of their faces, but any gesture not initiated by themselves required repetition before gaining acknowledgment. They were not unfriendly, he decided bravely, simply undemonstrative and destined to lead him into a deliberate and useful heartiness through the means of their natural reserve. You have to learn to come out of your shell, Henry. No one else is going to winkle you out. He was trying to remember what a winkle was…”
Rather than me spending more time telling you something about the book, why not read what the author herself has to say about this novel?
“Always make the audience suffer as much as possible.” – Alfred Hitchcock
Jean Anouilh (1910-1987) is a famous French playwright, whose works range from high drama to absurdist farce. His long career spanned several decades and his creative diversity shuns categorisation, although he partly adopted Sartre's existentialist views. Anouilh hated publicity, and was reclusive fro nearly all his life. In his plays, a common theme is an unsuccessful protagonist whose idealism and intransigence is in conflict with the world of compromise and corruption. His play “Becket” of 1959 is typical of this type of drama and remains one of his most well-known.
It is not surprising perhaps, that this play was filmed in 1964 and Peter Glenville’s film "Becket" has become a classic. We saw this movie at the weekend in a (relatively) newly released DVD and my childhood memories of the wonderful pageantry of the film were proven to be accurate, but now I was able to concentrate more on the biting wit of the dialogue, the pathos of the two unsuccessful protagonists and the theme of friendship versus duty.
The film is firmly based on historical figures, depicting the relationship between Henry II of England (1133 – 1189 AD) and his Chancellor (and later Archbishop of Canterbury) Thomas à Becket (ca 1120 – 1170 AD). However, the playwright (and subsequently the screenplay writer) have taken certain liberties with history in order to make for a more dramatic plot and a more highly charged conflict between things spiritual and things temporal. For example, in the movie Becket is depicted as a Saxon, whereas history proves him to have been a Norman, similar to Henry. The play shows us Henry and Becket to be almost the same age, whereas history tells us that they had as much as a 15 year difference of age between them. Nevertheless, the point of this play (and movie) is not teach us history, but rather to examine the complex relationship between two powerful historical figures and to explore the substance of friendship in the upper echelons of society, where other allegiances may interfere with it. Authority of the state and church (which may often be at cross-purposes) is also examined and “honour to God” is a major theme. This conflict between State and Church represents the seeds of discord between renegade England and the Papal authority of Roman Catholicism, a discord which bore the fruit of the schism in Henry VIII’s reign and his subsequent creation of the Church of England.
E.M. Forster says that "If I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend, I hope I should have the guts to betray my country." This is an interesting quotation in the context of this film as Henry views Thomas à Becket firstly as a friend and then as a courtier. Becket, however, can sacrifice many things in his pursuit of faith and submission to God. Therein lies the conflict, which Anouilh capitalises on in order to create an intriguing drama and a magnificent stage piece that transfers to film admirably. This film is in many ways a forgotten masterpiece and I rather hope that its restoration and re-release in DVD format will give it a new audience and the acclaim it deserves.
The two leads, Peter O'Toole as King Henry II and Richard Burton as his best friend turned adversary, Becket give magnificent performances and are a pleasure to watch. A relatively young John Gielgud has an interesting cameo as King Louis VII of France and Pamela Brown gives a restrained performance as Henry’s wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine who is depicted as a bitter, vindictive and sharp-tongued woman. The rest of the performances are equally good and the sets and costumes although very 60s (I cringe when I see lamé fabric used in period movies, ti just looks so fake!) do bring to mind the spirit of the time. The music is wonderful and it introduced to me in my early adolescence the beauty of Gregorian chant.
It was a pleasure to watch this movie again 30 years later and I would recommend it most highly to anyone who likes films with substance, great dialogue, good performances (a little theatrical, to be sure) and wonderful atmosphere. The themes explored are a major attraction of the film, and as I mentioned before conflict on many levels and its unhappy resolution creates anxiety for the viewer because he or she identifies with it on many levels.
“Always be ready to speak your mind and a base man will avoid you.” - William Blake A Poison Tree This poem was published in Songs of Experience in 1794
I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I watered it in fears, Night and morning with my tears; And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright; And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine,
And into my garden stole When the night had veil'd the pole: In the morning glad I see My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree.
William Blake (November 28, 1757 – August 12, 1827)
I have been blogging daily on this platform for several years now. It is surprising that I have persisted as the world is changing and "microblogging" is now the norm. I blog to amuse myself, make comment on current affairs, externalise some of my creativity, keep notes on things that interest me, learn something new and to surprise myself with things that I discover about this wonderful, and sometimes crazy, world we live in.
I sometimes get the impression that I am on a soapbox delivering a monologue, so your comments are welcome.
