Friday, 26 September 2008

DAIQUIRI


“Spirit has fifty times the strength and staying-power of brawn and muscle” – Mark Twain

The Daiquiri cocktail was originally conceived as a way to cool off under the hot Cuban Sun, and it’s been the standard of outdoor refreshment ever since its conception. The classic Daiquiri, as originally invented, was hand shaken and never frozen or blended with fruit.
In 1898, in the small mining town of Daiquiri, Cuba, a mining engineer by the name of Jennings Stockton Cox invented a cocktail to help boost his men’s morale during the hot summer months. Jennings was compensated with a generous salary along with a monthly gallon of his favourite Bacardi Rum. After experimenting with local ingredients he showed his men how to combine lime juice, sugar, crushed ice and Bacardi Carta Blanca to create what he later named the Daiquiri.

This cocktail still remains the most popular way to taste the spirit of old Havana. Its exotic taste and versatility make it a modern classic.

DAIQUIRI
Ingredients
2 limes, juiced
3 teaspoonfuls sugar
3 parts white rum
cracked ice

Method
In a cocktail shaker mix the cracked ice, lime juice, sugar and rum until a frost forms. Strain into a chilled martini glass and add a lime twist as a garnish.

Enjoy your weekend!

Thursday, 25 September 2008

WATERCRESS


“Salad freshens without enfeebling and fortifies without irritating.” - Jean-Anthelme Brillat-Savarin

The plant for today’s birthdays is the watercress, Nasturtium officinalis. It is one of the nine sacred herbs of the Hebrews, who consume it as a side dish during the Passover Feast. The herb is symbolic of the coming of Spring and suggests renewal, hope and redemption. The ancient Greeks also held it in high regard and the saying “eat cresses and get wit” is attributable to this. It is a lunar herb and symbolises stability and power.

Blackberries should now be ripe and ready for gathering. In Scotland, it was said that this should be done before Old Holy Rood Day (September 26th) as the Devils poisoned the brambles on that day:
Oh weans! Oh weans! The morn’s the Fair
Ye may na eat the berries mair
This nicht the Deil gangs ower them a’
To touch them with his pooshioned paw.

In most of England, the Devil is thought not to spit or urinate on the berries until Michaelmas (September 29th) or even until Old Michaelmas (October 10th). It depends on how many good berries are still around it seems! Blackberry tarts can be made with the gathered berries.

watercress |ˈwôtərˌkres| noun
A cress that grows in running water and whose pungent leaves are used in salad. • Nasturtium officinale, family Brassicaceae.
ORIGIN Old English cresse, cærse; related to Dutch kers and German Kresse.

Wednesday, 24 September 2008

THE BOTTICELLI VENUS


“He does not need opium. He has the gift of reverie.” - Anais Nin

In my job I often have to interact with many representatives of the health system, both on an individual as well as at an institutional level. Hospitals, clinics, practitioners, professional bodies, government organisations, politicians, officials can all be included in a day’s work. Today I had a meeting with the manager of a unit of one of our major hospitals here in Melbourne. The unit was an acute detoxification centre, which provides services for drug-dependent adults and children. After our meeting I was taken on an inspection tour of the facilities and met a few of the inmates.

Nowhere else perhaps does one experience such a feeling of acute dismay and consternation as when one sees people with drug problems in a setting where they need acute intervention to save their life. Especially so when these people are young. One individual stood out and I shall remember the look on her face for a long time. It was a young girl of 13 or 14 years, sitting on the couch of the common room, her legs curled up and held tightly by her enfolding arms. Her face as beautiful as a Botticelli Venus but her eyes vacant and distant as if they had already beheld death. Her youth in years belied most certainly the breadth of her experiences in the cruel world of the night and the gang-ridden streets. The innocence that should still have been hers was usurped by a life lived prematurely and an awareness of the terrors of life that many other people would never experience. The vacant stare, the indifference, the remoteness, the denial painted on that beautiful young face was devoid of hope and the surroundings did little to inspire confidence in the long-term success of detox program.

If one works in such an area, one learns detachment very quickly. When one is surrounded by disease, distress, misery, death, hopelessness, one must remain strong and rather remote in order to be able to help the ones that need one’s efficient intervention. A detached, professional manner, however, doesn’t imply an underlying insensitivity or lack of sympathy or pity. The young Venus of the detox centre affected my thoughts for the rest of the day and stimulated these lines:

The Botticelli Venus

Which wind blows sweet, spice-scented air
To play with your golden curls?
What spring flowers lend their pastel colours
To tint your rosy cheeks?
What melodies will sound so that they
Give you tones with which you speak?
What paradise will bestow its setting
So you can walk in bliss in your meanderings?

The crystalline white powder concealling
A million colours, sweet scents, rich tastes
In its deceptive insipidness;
The whirling smoke of the false-friend herb,
The few clear drops of death injected
In an unwary but receptive vein.

What lends your face the serenity of such euphoria?
What secret vision gives your eyes such burning brilliance?
Which rare delight loosens your limbs in such languor?
What stunning imagery empties your mind
Of all gloom and only sunny thoughts allows?
Which friend, companion, helpmate is at work
To aid your every step and counter each adversity,
Negating all of life’s vicissitudes?

The glass of sparkling spirit promising
A welcoming oblivion;
The magic, problem-solving pill,
Delivering every delight;
The overdose that wipes clean every slate
And ends what should have been but a beginning…

Monday, 22 September 2008

VERNAL EQUINOX


“There is no reality except the one contained within us.” - Hermann Hesse

Astronomically speaking, today is the first day of Spring in the Southern hemisphere as yesterday we had our vernal equinox. On this point of the earth’s trajectory around the sun, the sun is situated at a point directly above the equator at noon. Night and day are equal and beyond that the days begin to lengthen and the nights to become shorter as we progress towards summer. In the Northern hemisphere, the opposite occurs of course, as the autumnal equinox heralds autumn and the shortening of the days and lengthening of nights as winter approaches. In Japan the autumnal equinox is termed Higan, meaning the “other shore”, implying heaven. Buddhists will pray in temples and in cemeteries for the souls of the dead in ceremonies reminiscent of All Souls’ Day.

The day today was more wintry than spring-like in Melbourne, with rain, cold and grey skies giving us the last taste of winter before he leaves us. At work I was quite busy, catching up after my time away from the office – work tends to accumulate when one is away and it takes some time before one catches up. I had a record number of emails yesterday and today and I tried to deal with all 200 or so of them, but it was an impossible task. I had to answer the urgent ones and the rest remained to be dealt with later. A couple of meetings, several memos to write and the day ended before I quite knew it.

Today is the national day of Armenia, which is the smallest of the 15 republics of the former USSR. It gained its independence in 1991. It is about 30,000 square km in area with a population of 4 million people. It is East of Turkey and North of Georgia. The capital city is Yerevan with other main centres being Karaklis, Kumayri and Kamo. It is a mountainous, landlocked country with small but fertile regions of arable land. The main industry is machine-building with chemicals and textiles also contributing to the economy. Farming and raising of sheep, goats and cattle is also important.

A COMEDY


“God is a comedian playing to an audience too afraid to laugh.” – Voltaire

Today I was in Adelaide for work. Commuting to a different city for a day is rather tiring, but one can achieve quite a lot if the scheduling of the appointments has been organized well. And this was the case today. Rushing from one place to another, from a Minister’s office to a Government Department, from a College to a University, it was hectic and we had to battle with the weather as Spring showers were definitely the order of the day. Nevertheless, all went well and I managed to get home at 8:30 pm…

Yesterday we watched an old film, but one that we had missed when it first came out. It was “The Man Who Knew Too Little” (1997) with Bill Murray. Jon Amiel directs this spy-thriller spoof with his tongue lodged firmly in his cheek and the laughs are plentiful. The plot concerns an American, Wallace Ritchie, who flies to England planning to spend his birthday with his brother, James. James has business guests coming over and must find something to occupy his brother until dinner's over. Conveniently, James sees an ad for the "Theatre Of Life," which promises to treat the participant as a character in a drama staged in a neighbourhood and signs up Wallace for the immersion performance. Wallace decides to participate, but unfortunately he gets in the way of a real spy assignation and becomes tangled up in a plot to kill Russian dignitaries on the eve of the signing of an important peace agreement. For him, it's all an act and he has great fun being a participant in the drama, however, to the men who want a second Cold War, Wallace is an agent who must be “liquidated”.

Yes, it’s corny and conventional in its gags, and the end is predictable, but nevertheless the light fun is conducive to a few laughs and one may spend a pleasant 90 minutes or so enjoying the antics of funnyman Murray. One of the highlights is his Russian Cossack dance. Richard Wilson (from the funny UK TV series “One Foot in the Grave”) has small funny part and the romantic interest is provided by Joanne Whalley, rather ably.

Definitely not highbrow, not witty or very intelligent, but quite enjoyable as a bit of escapist fluff, good for a few laughs. If you do not enjoy Bill Murray’s brand of humour, then obviously avoid this flick.

Sunday, 21 September 2008

ART SUNDAY - PICASSO FOR PEACE


“There never was a good war or a bad peace.” – Benjamin Franklin

September 21st has been designated by the United Nations as the International day of Peace. The International Day of Peace was established by the United Nations General Assembly in 1981 for “commemorating and strengthening the ideals of peace within and among all nations and people”. Twenty years later, the General Assembly set 21 September as the date to observe the occasion annually as a “day of global ceasefire and non-violence… through education and public awareness and to cooperate in the establishment of a global ceasefire”.

This year, as we commemorate the 60th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, as well as the 60th anniversary of UN peacekeeping, the Day offers an opportunity to spotlight the crucial relationship between peace and human rights, which are increasingly recognised as inseparable. In the aftermath of World War II, world leaders acknowledged that “disregard and contempt for human rights have resulted in barbarous acts” and have prevented the “advent of a world in which human beings shall enjoy…freedom from fear and want”.

Today, we are still struggling to achieve this vision. Too many conflicts, from wars in Iraq and Afghanistan to conflicts in the Occupied Palestinian Territory and Darfur, Somalia and the Democratic Republic of the Congo, cause unnecessary loss of life and have a devastating impact on the structures that maintain societies, such as education, health and justice systems and the maintenance of law and order. With over 60 people dead and many injured in the deadly terrorist bombing of the Marriott Hotel in Islamabad in Pakistan, one wonders what peace we hope to achieve in the near future.

Pablo Picasso’s “Child with a Dove” (1901), Oil on canvas, 73 x 54cm (National Gallery of Art, Trafalgar Square, London). The child clasps the dove and stands beside a multi-coloured ball. The whole canvas is heavily worked in thick layers of paint or 'impasto', and may have been painted over an earlier picture. This work was executed while the artist was in Paris. It is a strong symbol of peace through the innocence of childhood and the age-old association of the dove with peace.

Saturday, 20 September 2008

SUMMER'S COMING


“Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.” – Stanley Horowitz

The weather today in Sydney is definitely summery, with an expected top of 30˚C. The brilliant sunlight through the window in the hotel ensured I got up early in time for the breakfast meeting I had. Overall this trip has been very successful, and once again I am aware of how much work gets done over a meal. This is an interesting although not unexpected state of affairs, as it seems that people relax more over a meal and are willing to be more open to ideas and innovative proposals.

By about 8:00 am the temperature was already in the mid 20s and rising. This very unseasonable heat maybe presages a very hot summer ahead…

Some Vivaldi today. The gorgeous “Summer” from the “Four Seasons”.

Friday, 19 September 2008

HELLO FROM SYDNEY - LET'S PAR-TEA


“Tradition does not mean that the living are dead, but that the dead are living.” – GK Chesterton

The tradition of the “afternoon tea” or “high tea” is something that is essentially British and is still alive and well in Britain but also in most of the countries that once used to be British colonies and part of the British Empire, including Australia. It is a particularly civilised institution and elevates the simple act of satisfying one’s mid-afternoon hunger pangs to an art form. I am in Sydney today for work and after a full morning of meetings, which went through lunchtime and into the afternoon, it was very pleasant to be invited by my colleagues to partake of afternoon tea at one of the major hotels in Sydney, the Westin in Martin Place, close to the Post Office.

Anna, the 7th Duchess of Bedford and lady-in-waiting to Queen Victoria is often credited with the invention of the tradition of afternoon tea in the early 1840s. Traditionally dinner was not served until 8:30 or 9:00 pm and the Duchess often became hungry, especially in the summer when dinner was served even later. She ordered a small meal of bread, butter, and other niceties, such as cakes, tarts, and biscuits, to be brought secretly to her boudoir. When she was exposed she was not ridiculed, as she had feared, but her habit caught on and the concept of a small meal, of niceties and perhaps tea, became popular and eventually known as "afternoon tea". Obviously the origins of the well known British tradition of afternoon tea cannot be credited to only one woman, but evolved over a period of time, as many cultural customs do.

In 1819 the Tea Dance started to become popular, and continued through World War II. Friends and acquaintances gathered between 5:00 and 6:30 pm, with table and chairs set up around a dance floor. Tea and snacks were served at the tables while couples danced. It was perhaps the Tea Dance, and not the Duchess of Bedford’s afternoon snacks, that were the direct precursor to the tradition of afternoon tea, although the Duchess may have been one of the first to hold afternoon teas in her home.

The “at home tea” was a common practice in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. After deciding on a day of the week to hold “at home” hours, announcements to friends, relatives, and acquaintances were sent. On that particular day of the week one would remain at home all day and receive visitors. Some entertainment might be provided for the guests, but usually conversation, after the model of the French salon, was the primary entertainment. Tea and cakes, sandwiches, or other niceties were served. If sent an “at home” notice it was expected that unless regrets were sent that all who received a notice would attend. There was at least one person holding an “at home” day on any given day, and social ties were established as women saw each other almost every day at different houses.

A complex system of codes was followed during this rather formal social interaction. There were three types of social visits. The first type was to wish congratulations or condolences on the hostess when appropriate. A card was left with the message, and the visitor may or may not have been received. The ceremonial visit was brief, and when another visitor was announced the ceremonial guest, usually an acquaintance whose visit would increase the social standing of one of the parties involved, would excuse themselves and retreat. The third type of visit was that of friendship. A friend would only visit during the appointed at home hours, but the rules of behavior were less strict. For example, the friend was not expected to leave if another guest arrived, as one of the functions of the tea was to socialise with a group of friends.

When tea was served the hostess sat at one end of the table and supervised its pouring for her guests. The eldest daughter of the household, or the closest friend of the hostess, served coffee or chocolate if it was desired. The division of serving privileges was indicative of the varying importance of the three beverages served at this time. Tea was a valuable commodity, and stored in locked tea caddies for which only the woman of the household held the key. In allowing the eldest daughter, or friend, to serve the other beverages, and reserving the privilege of serving of tea to only herself, she set levels of social significance. This is an interesting parallel to the lord of the house serving the tea in China. In both cases it is the host with the most power who serves the tea, in spite of the gender differences. Men in nineteenth century Britain were higher on the public scale of social hierarchies, but the woman was in charge of the household, and creating the genteel atmosphere connected with formal social visits. As a result she was more powerful within the house than the man. Even when the British “lord of the manor” was present it was the woman's responsibility and privilege to serve tea.

The hostess also added the sugar, milk or lemon to the tea for the guests. By the 20th century, these substances were common and inexpensive enough to serve often and to many guests. However, the cultural legacy from when both tea and sugar were rare and expensive luxury goods, created a situation in which the hostess desired, or was expected, to be in control of the amount consumed. When sugar and tea were first introduced only the aristocracy were able to possess them. They displayed their power and wealth by consuming these rare, luxury goods. Tea and sugar were more common by the 1800's, but as consumable luxuries they still suggested power and wealth. The upper classes wealthy enough to hire servants had them serve the tea and guests were allowed to add their own sugar, milk or lemon to the tea. By releasing control over tea and sugar the upper classes demonstrated their wealth and ability to buy as much of these commodities as desired. This asserted their social standing through the careless consumption of luxury goods.

The menu for afternoon tea varied widely and depended very much on the status and wealth of the household involved. However, usually both savoury and sweet selections were available. A traditional menu of a wealthy household may have included the following:

Freshly baked scones (currant or plain) served with clotted cream and homemade preserves
Banbury buns served with sweet butter
Tea cake, Madeira cake, fruit cake (slices)

Assorted tea sandwiches including:
*Cucumber and watercress
*Smoked salmon pinwheels
*Rare roast beef
*Chicken salad with toasted walnuts

*Classic egg salad
*Thinly sliced cheddar and tomato
*Black Forest ham and Swiss cheese

Assorted bite-size sweets including:
Iced chocolate diamonds
Miniature fruit tarts
Fairy cakes with whipped cream
Miniature cakes filled with a vanilla mousse
Shortbread fingers
Handmade chocolate truffles

Seasonal fruit
Cheese and crackers

Needless to say that the status of the household was not only reflected in the quality and variety of comestibles, but also on the quality of the china and silverware in use. The three-tiered silver small cake or sandwich stands are particularly associated with the British afternoon tea tradition.

One of the most celebrated afternoon tea parties in literature occurs in Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland”, where Alice meets the Mad Hatter, the Dormouse and the March Hare. Carroll sends up the Victorian tradition very nicely and pokes fun at what must have often been stuffy occasions designed to showcase nouveau-riche wealth.

Weather in Sydney today is delightful and Spring-like.

Hope everyone has a great weekend!

Thursday, 18 September 2008

A WHOLE LOT OF WORDS


“I hope for nothing. I fear nothing. I am free.” – Nikos Kazantzakis

We live in perilous times. This is a critical period of our existence in the wake of globalisation, which, however, co-exists with increasing nationalism and the rise of a myriad nations as larger countries are broken up into fragments – where are the USSR, Yugoslavia, Czechoslovakia nowadays? It important to stand back a little and differentiate between globalisation and internationalisation; ecumenicity and latitudinarianism; patriotism, nationalism and fascism.

Internationalisation is the process whereby the advocacy of cooperation and understanding between nations is espoused. Globalisation on the other hand is a concept that has become confined to the meaning that describes the capitalistic ideal of a market so wide, as to embrace all consumers on the globe. Ecumenicity is that policy that promotes unity among the world’ s Christian churches – different from latitudinarianism, a more inclusive term that allows latitude in religion, showing no preference among varying creeds and forms of worship. Patriotism is the noble virtue (or so we are taught at school) of vigorously supporting one’s country and being prepared to defend it against enemies or detractors, while nationalism is extreme patriotism, tinged with feelings of superiority over other countries. Fascism is an authoritarian right-wing system of government and social organisation that carries patriotic nationalism to its extremes.

Nikos Kazantzakis, the Greek author, has considered these meanings and defines latitudinarian internationalisation as the only viable solution to the accumulating ills of the world. He maintains that in order for humans to survive on earth for the longer term, they need to find a balance between the extremes of slavery and anarchy. He purports that this happy medium was first approached by the ancient Greeks whose intellect achieved a balance between extremes, whose concept of the “golden mean” exemplified the ideal of moderation in all things. Kazantzakis, perhaps tottering on nationalism himself, names this breed of human being Homo hellenicus. Rational people worldwide may espouse his ideology, but it would only be the Greeks or philhellenes that would embrace Kazantzakis’ nationalistic characterisation of the new species of human being.

Homo hellenicus (for want of a better name) recognises freedom as the most valuable part of a human being’s self respect. Liberty is great responsibility as it rejects the anarchy of egocentricity. But liberty also respects individuality and repudiates slavery, while espousing the disciplined acceptance of society’s laws and advocates the good of society as a whole. Kazantzakis’ characterisation of this new breed of human and justification of the term Homo hellenicus is steeped in history. The classical Greek civilisation developed at a time when on the one hand great Empires of Asia and Africa ruled the earth and on the other hand uncivilised barbarians lived in anarchy. The Greeks developed at the confluence of three continents, in an infertile, mountainous, poor country where survival of the body was problematic. The environment was perhaps in part responsible for the acuity of the intellect and the richness of spirit that developed in Homo hellenicus.

Homo hellenicus over the centuries developed from this nascent spark of self-consciousness into the flaming ideals of democracy, good government, philosophy, beauty, moderation, respect of the sovereignty of individual city-states but unification against their common enemies. The innate worth of intellectual and spiritual values and the importance that Homo hellenicus attached to them, contributed to their survival and spread throughout the civilised world. The diachronicity of these ideals and their internationalisation show the value we place upon these ideals even today.

Nationalism and globalisation, egocentricity and anarchy are threats to the ideals of Homo hellenicus that beleaguer us today. Our society is threatened by stressors that stem from the placement of values on ephemeral, solipsistic, pecuniary, carnal pursuits. Selfish goals erode the good of society as a whole. The belief that money is the ultimate arbiter and that everything has a price destroys the real values of human existence. The upsurge of nationalism and neofascism destroys the true internationalisation of the human race and the aspiration after common goals based on the ideals of true liberty and respect of other human beings. Moderation in all things, appreciation of beauty, the cultivation of philosophy and intellectual pursuits are still ideals and if I am one to continue to try and attain them, I am sure that others are doing the same.

Wednesday, 17 September 2008

PEACE


“We shall find peace. We shall hear angels. We shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds.’ – Anton Chekhov

The International Day of Peace is celebrated on September 21st every year. In anticipation, I collected my thoughts and wrote down a few lines of what peace means to me. All the more important to reflect on this, in these days of killings, bombings, dirty little wars and internecine ethnic struggles in emerging countries of fragmenting super-powers.

Peace

It is the laughter of children playing outside my window,
The smell of baking in the kitchen and the larder full.
It is the hurrying steps of a returning labourer,
Content with a full day’s work, eager to come home.

It is the fields that bloom, the grain ripening in the sun,
The cows dozing as they chew their cud.
It is my love in her summer dress reading her book
Under the shade of a green-leaf tree.

It is the sound of music drifting down the empty street
As dancing couples whirl in the town hall.
It is the two adolescents that kiss beneath a full moon
While the crickets chirp in approbation.

It is the careless saunter late at night,
The lights left on inside the house, burning like beacons.
It is the sound of airplane engines in the sky, that only
Stir the thoughts of distant exotic places and carefree holidays.

It is a rusty rifle driven into the earth to support a growing vine,
An old soldier’s helmet, now home to a budding flower.
It is the surety of watching your children surviving you,
The swelling pregnant belly and the double-joy of grandchildren.

Peace: It is a quietude and a celebration of the commonplace,
An all-increasing accumulation of small delights that add up to bliss.
Peace, it is a multiplicity of contentments and a realisation
Of what humankind has the capability of being.

What does peace mean to you?

Tuesday, 16 September 2008

AND THE STOCKS FALL...


“One must be poor to know the luxury of giving.” – George Eliot

Stocks on Wall Street plunged overnight after the collapse of investment banking house Lehman Brothers and the sale of another major player, Merrill Lynch. Meanwhile, the world's biggest insurance firm, American Insurance Group, is battling to find a capital injection. As the US economy takes another hiding the world watches on nervously and the stocks tumble all over the globe. This turn of events is no surprise – it was a question of when, rather than why. Many people’s lives around the world will be affected and as far as the USA is concerned, it will definitely hurt.

Weakness across the Australian share market has dragged stocks down about 1.8 per cent in response to the crisis on Wall Street. Banking stocks have tumbled with ANZ and National Australia Bank down 3.6 per cent. London and Tokyo tumbled to their lowest levels for more than three years on Tuesday after Wall Street had crumbled overnight. Russia 's key stock market index plunged more than nine percent awaiting the start of New York trading.

The share market volatility in Australia will affect the retirement plans of hundreds of thousands of people. Balanced superannuation funds have lost about 11 per cent so far this calendar year. Some people are going to have to stay in the workforce for one or two years longer to get over this hump and it is a significant event for a lot of people and it will affect hundreds of thousands of Australians who really have to clearly rethink their retirement strategies.

So what caused it all? After the warning signs in the late eighties, the USA chose to patch thing up with band-aids, rather with radical, solid solutions. The crisis was managed poorly and the financial problems of the country were swept under the carpet. This situation has been compounded and abetted by the most incompetent government in three-quarters of a century. History will record George W. Bush as the president who did most to weaken and diminish the United States on every front. The Wall Street crisis in part will result in financial power following the drift in economic power away from the USA. After this stocks cleanout, New York will emerge as a cleaner, stronger financial centre, a world financial capital – but not the financial capital…

That will ultimately be good news worldwide, as the USA stock market crash will not seriously affect world economy in the longer turn. Global growth continues around the 4 per cent mark. The BRIC economies (Brazil, Russia, India and China) will still invest about US$22 trillion in today's dollars on infrastructure over the next decade and never mind what the oil-rich Middle East states spend or the regional economies (such as Australia) that hang off the BRICs. China continues to build another Brisbane every month. The spreading of economic power more equitably around the world, ensures that the world is no longer so reliant on a couple of major Western nations, who up till now have dictated the world’s fate.

Sunday, 14 September 2008

MOVIE MONDAY - NINOTCHKA


“Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love.” – Albert Einstein

Yesterday we watched a classic film starring a legendary actress. It was Ernst Lubitsch’s “Ninotchka” (1939) with the great Greta Garbo. It was a refreshing comedy that still managed to sparkle, nearly 70 year after it was made!

The story is a wry sociopolitical satire that manages to work on multiple levels, but which can nevertheless be enjoyed superficially as a romantic comedy. The film is very much a sign of the times it was made, full of the pre-WWII decadence and gaiety, but with a heavy dark cloud looming overhead. The Soviet emissaries Buljanoff, Iranoff, and Kopalski arrive in Paris to sell some jewellery for the Soviet Government, but the luxury and jollity of the soft capitalist ways begin to corrupt them. The Grand Duchess Swana, formerly of the Russian Royal Family (but now exiled in Paris), and former owner of the jewels, sends her very good friend, playboy Count Léon d'Algout, to sabotage the sale and try to get the jewels returned to her. The Russian emissaries’ incompetence with their fund-raising mission attracts a special envoy from Moscow, the stern and quite Red, Comrade Nina “Ninotchka” Ivanovna. A predictable east-west romance commences, but there is quite hurdle to be overcome as Ninotchka’s ideals come into conflict with her feelings for Léon.

Grabo’s great comedic talent shines forth in this film and this, being her second last film, is a fitting good bye to the silver screen. She plays the icy communist Nina very convincingly, but when she finally breaks into laughter, the transition is utterly believable, just as the shine of the sun as it breaks through clouds on a Spring day. Garbo won an Oscar for her performance in this film and it was well-deserved. Melvyn Douglas plays the debonair Léon and he is perfect foil to Garbo’s Ninotchka, although this is very much her film. The three bumbling Russian emissaries (Sig Ruman, Felix Bressart, Alexander Granach) are very good, as is the swanning Swana (Ina Claire) as supporting actors. There is a memorable guest appearance by Bela Lugosi (the famous Count Dracula of the 30s), who shows another part of his acting talent as the Muscovite Komissar.

The scenario is based on a story by Melchior Lengyel, but the screenplay is a collaboration Charles Brackett, Billy Wilder and Walter Reisch. Witty dialogue with several well-delivered amusing lines interplay with touches of black humour (such as the “Heil Hitler” salute of some German tourists and the frequent references to “Siberia”). I find that so many of these 1930s film had such sparkling dialogue and witty scripts, that it is hard for films nowadays to match them. It is as though the talkies challenged the scriptwriters to do their best work and after a couple of decades the magic went out of their pens. Ernst Lubitsch is great director, but his touch is light in this film and he allows the actors to show their talent, rather than directing them with an iron fist.

Overall a delightful, fun film. Watch it, if you haven’t already!

ART SUNDAY - MURILLO


“Youth should watch joys and shoot them as they fly.” - John Dryden

For Art Sunday today, a whimsical painting by a great painter, the Spaniard, Bartolomé Esteban Murillo (born 1617, Sevilla, died 1682, Sevilla). The painting is a favourite of mine and is called “A Girl and her Duenna” (1670 - Oil on canvas, 106 x 127 cm, National Gallery of Art, Washington, US). This is a delightful painting, reminiscent of a candid photograph. The shyness of the duenna, who seemingly wants nothing to do with being immortalized but who despite her bashfulness still wants to be present and protect her charge, contrasts with the self-assuredness of adolescent exhibitionism. The young woman in her smiling confidence exudes joie de vivre and the invincibility of youth. The flesh tones sing out of the dark background and the touches of vermillion set a happy mood for this otherwise somber painting.

Murillo was active for almost all his life in his native Seville, although his early career is not well documented. He started working in a naturalistic tenebrist style, showing the influence of Zurbarán. After making his reputation with a series of eleven paintings on the lives of Franciscan saints for the Franciscan monastery in Seville (1645-46), he displaced Zurbarán as the city's leading painter and was unrivalled in this position for the rest of his life.

Most of his paintings are of religious subjects, appealing strongly to popular piety and illustrating the doctrines of the Counter-Reformation church, above all the Immaculate Conception, which was his favourite theme. His mature style was very different to that seen in his early works; it is characterized by idealized figures, soft, melting forms, delicate colouring, and sweetness of expression and mood. The term 'estilo vaporoso' (vaporous style) is often used of it. Murillo also painted genre scenes of beggar children that have a similar sentimental appeal, but his fairly rare portraits are strikingly different in feeling - much more sombre and intellectual.

In 1660, with the collaboration of Valdés Leal and Francisco Herrera the Younger, Murillo founded an academy of painting at Seville and became its first president. He died at Seville in 1682, evidently from the after-effects of a fall from scaffolding. He had many assistants and followers, and his style continued to influence Sevillian painting into the 19th century. His fame in the 18th century and early 19th century was enormous. With Ribera he was the only Spanish painter who was widely known outside his own country and he was ranked by many critics amongst the greatest artists of all time. Later his reputation plummeted, and he was dismissed as facile and sugary, but now that his own work is being distinguished from that of his numerous imitators his star is rising again.

Saturday, 13 September 2008

COEUR DE LOUP


“He who sings scares away his woes.” Miguel de Cervantes

Another French song today by the incomparable Belgian singer and songwriter, Philippe Lafontaine. This song "Coeur de Loup" was his first big hit (1989) and launched his career once and for all in Europe in the early 90s. The song garnered many awards in Belgium, France and Quebec. His lyrics are known for being full of jaunty rhythms, alliterations, assonances and double entendres.



The song is a fantastic mixture of word play and brings to mind all things wolf-like. Wolfmen howling at the moon, the wolf and little-red-riding-hood, wolf heart and wolf whistling. Love and lust, joy and misery, talking and being silent. Being in love is like being a kamikaze, like a legionnaire who likes advnture and wishes to travel but wants to do so without commitment…

If your French is up to scratch and idiomatic enough, here are the lyrics:

Cœur de Loup

Pas le temps de tout lui dire
Pas le temps de tout lui taire
Juste assez pour tenter la satyre
Qu'elle sente que j'veux lui plaire
Sous le pli de l'emballage
La lubie de faufiler
La folie de rester sage si elle veut
De n'pas l'embrasser
Quand d'un coup d'aile se déplume
Mon œillet luit fait de l'œil
Même hululer sous la lune ne m'fait pas peur
Pourvu qu'elle veuille

Je n'ai qu'une seule envie
Me laisser tenter
La victime est si belle
Et le crime est si gai

Pas besoin de beaucoup
Mais pas de peu non plus
Par le biais d'un billet fou
Lui faire savoir que j'n'en peux plus
C'est le cas du kamikaze
C'est l'abc du condamné
Le légionnaire qui veut l'avantage des voyages
Sans s'engager
Elle est si frêle esquive
Sous mes bordées d'amour
Je suppose qu'elle suppose
Que je l'aimerai toujours
Le doigts sur l'aventure
Le pied dans l'inventaire
Même si l'affaire n'est pas sûre
Ne pas s'enfuir
Ne pas s'en faire

Je n'ai qu'une seule envie
Me laisser tenter
La victime est si belle
Et le crime est si gai

Cœur de loup
Peur du lit
Séduis-la
Sans délais
Suis le swing
C'est le coup de gong du king. Bong !
Cœur de loup
M'as-tu lu
L'appel aux
Gais délits
Sors du ring
C'est le coup de gong du king. Bong !

Pas le temps de tout lui dire
Ni de quitter la scène
YEP ! Elle aura beau rougir
De toute façon il faut qu'elle m'aime
Je n'ai qu'un seule envie
Me laisser tenter......................
Cœur de loup
Peur du lit
Séduis-la
Sans délai
Où elle est
O LA LA
Beau colis
Joli lot
Cœur de loup
M'as-tu lu
L'appel aux
Gais délits
En dit long
Mets l'hola
C'est joli
Quand c'est laid.

Friday, 12 September 2008

BUSINESS MEALS


“The creation of a thousand forests is in one acorn.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson

One of the things associated with traveling on business is the business lunch or business dinner or business cocktail party, where one attempts to work in a social setting. It is a very valuable experience in that people are more relaxed and quite likely to be more receptive to new ideas, discuss things in a rather more informal way, be able to interact in a more open and constructive manner. By the by, one can have rather lovely food along the way as this is a tax deductible expense and one may use this means to treat colleagues and prospective clients to some rather fine dining.

I always adhere to the maxim less is more principle. Order one bottle of good wine rather than ply the guests to limitless bottles of disgusting plonk. Organise a single well-rounded, well-cooked and well presented course than several middling to indifferent courses. A few gourmet canapés than an endless supply of cardboard cutout trashy nibblies. After all, this is meant to be about doing business and getting a job done, rather4 than a Lucullan exercise in excessive pleasures of the gastrointestinal kind.

My lat night in Sydney tonight was a case in point where a cocktail party marked the occasion of a professional gathering where I had to make a welcome address. The wine and spirits were good and generous, rather than limitless and indifferent. The hors d’oeuvres liberal and toothsome but not outré. As a result people interacted, talked, communicated, enjoyed.

It’s good to be flying home tonight!

Thursday, 11 September 2008

HADRONS & QUANTUM PHYSICS


“Not only is the universe stranger than we imagine, it is stranger than we can imagine.” – Arthur Eddington

The word for the day today is HADRON…

hadron |ˈhadˌrän| noun Physics
A subatomic particle of a type including the baryons and mesons that can take part in the strong interaction.
DERIVATIVES
hadronic |hadˈränik| adjective
ORIGIN 1960s: From Greek hadros ‘bulky’ + -on

The world has been forced to focus on the CERN laboratory in Switzerland, as a teenage girl in India has killed herself in fear that the Big Bang experiment may cause the end of the world. The 16-year-old girl, named Chayya from Madhya Pradesh drank pesticide and was rushed to the hospital but died a little later. This was caused by watching doomsday predictions made on Indian news programmes, her father said.

Doomsday predictions around the world abounded as preparations began for the start-up of Europe's Large Hadron Collider. This is a gigantic (27 km long) atomic particle-smasher designed to explore the origins of the universe. Real experiments have not yet begun, but its trial run on Wednesday was accompanied by worries that it might spawn black holes with enough gravitational pull to swallow up the whole Earth. Physicists around the world celebrated the first successful tests of the equipment yesterday.

Experiments that will begin in earnest over the next few days, could revamp modern physics and unlock secrets about the universe and its origins. The huge particle-smashing machine (one of the most complex ever built!) will simulate the time immediately after creation of the universe in the Big Bang that forced matter as we know it into existence.

Although physicists brushed off suggestions that the experiment could create tiny black holes that could cause problems with the planet, poor Chayya and many other people around the world had real fears of a fast approaching Doomsday. Technology and hard science still makes many people uncomfortable or fearful. As our knowledge of science expands and becomes more specialised and complicated, it is beyond the understanding of the average person. We may all use high technology gadgets and place our lives at the mercy of technology when we travel on jet planes, when we listen to our i-pod and watch our TY LCD screens, but not many of us really want to know how it all works.

Ignorance creates fear. Not understanding breeds awe. Rumour runs rife in populations that view technology with the same fascination that they would view magic. Distrust and suspicion hamper progress and the daunting face of the technology involved discourages many from serious study of physics, mathematics, chemistry and all of the other “hard” sciences. How can we remain level-headed when confronted with such an array of quite incomprehensible and apparently magical scientific knowledge, whose simplest everyday applications can seem like wizardry?

Tuesday, 9 September 2008

SPRING IN SYDNEY


“I love spring anywhere, but if I could choose I would always greet it in a garden.” - Ruth Stout

I am in Sydney again for work and take the opportunity of a delayed flight and some spare time in an airport waiting lounge, to bring you my Poetry Wednesday offering early today. Spring has sprung in the Antipodes and the powder blue skies of Sydney are dotted with fleecy clouds – we may have a shower or two today. What better way to celebrate an Australian Spring than with some Australian poetry (a month early in this particular example, but a poem I like, nevertheless).

Mallee* in October

When clear October suns unfold
mallee tips of red and gold

children on their way to school
discover tadpoles in a pool,

iceplants sheathed in beaded glass
spider orchids and shivery grass,

webs with globes of dew alight
budgerigars on their first flight,

tottery lambs and a stilty foal
a papers slough that a snake shed whole,

and a bronzewing's nest of twigs so few
that both the sky and the eggs show through.
Flexmore Hudson

*mallee |ˈmalē| noun
A low-growing bushy Australian eucalyptus that typically has several slender stems.
• Genus Eucalyptus, family Myrtaceae: several species, in particular E. dumosa.
• scrub that is dominated by mallee bushes, typical of some arid parts of Australia.
ORIGIN mid 19th century, from Wuywurung (an Aboriginal language).
Flexmore Hudson (1913-1988) was born in Charters Towers Queensland. He was educated at Adelaide High School and graduated from the University of Adelaide. He began a teaching career in 1934 and taught in the Mallee, and at Scotch College in Adelaide and Adelaide Boys' High School. During the period 1941 to 1947 Hudson founded, edited and published the literary journal, “Poetry”. He also edited the 1943 anthology of Australian verse for Jindyworobak and contributed to the Jindyworobak anthologies from 1938 to 1953. He died in South Australia on 4th May 1988.

Some of the inspiration for his poetry came from his pupils. Whilst teaching at a small school (14 pupils) in the Mallee district of South Australia, the children would tell him of the things they had seen on the way to school. In his poem Mallee in October he refers to the Bronzewing's nest. Quote: "One day I spotted a bronzewing sitting on her eggs, Every morning for about a fortnight I used to stop my bike almost under the nest and watch that bird. I remember how pleased I was that, after a few days, she tolerated my intrusion." taken from This Land - an anthology of Australian Poetry by M.M. Flynn and J. Groom published 1968.

CHRYSANTHEMUMS


“Joy is the best of wine.” - George Eliot

On the ninth day of the ninth moon, the Chinese celebrate Chrysanthemum Day. This is to honour T’ao Yuan-Ming, a poet who loved chrysanthemums above all other flowers as they bloomed in frosty autumn when all other blossoms were long dead. Chrysanthemum wine is drunk to ensure a long life. The Japanese adopted the same festival on the same day and named it Choyo-no-Sekku. It is celebrated nowadays with many chrysanthemum shows and competitions for the best blooms.

Drinking Wine, V

I built my house amongst the throng of men,
But there is no din of horse or carriage going by.
You ask me, puzzled, “How can such a paradox arise?”
When the heart’s remote, all earthly things stand aloof.
I cut chrysanthemums by the eastern hedge,
Afar on the horizon shimmer the southern hills;
How good the highland air is at sunset…
The flying birds in company come to their nests.
In this is true beauty, real savour,
But probing inside myself, I find no apt words.
T’ao Yuan-Ming (365-427 AD)

Sunday, 7 September 2008

ROMULUS, MY FATHER


“The father who does not teach his son his duties is equally guilty with the son who neglects them.” – Confucius

Continuing on the theme of Fathers’ Day in yesterday’s blog, I am reviewing an Australian movie we watched at the weekend, “Romulus, My Father” (2007), by director Richard Roxburgh. The movie is based on the autobiographical book of the same name by author and philosopher, Raimond Gaita. Romulus Gaita fled his home in Yugoslavia at the age of thirteen, and came to Australia with his young wife Christine and their four-year-old son, Raimond, soon after the end of World War II. Raimond Gaita tells a tragic story about growing up with his father in the lonely stretches of country Australia.

The film translates the book well and while Raimond tells the story of his father’s life in his new homeland, he also explores the morals and personality of the man who shaped his future. The story is about marital relationships, love, compassion, friendship. It is violent and tender, it is harsh and gentle like the land in which it takes place. It explores the nightmarish reality of madness, the balance between work and the moral order of things. Therein is portrayed the poverty of existence, but also the richness of heart and soul. It is a superficially simple tale of honesty (with ourselves first and then with others), a memoir of a love of a man for a woman and love between a father and his son.

The film is quite brutal and violent in parts, poignant and sparse in its emotions, but quite powerful in its frugality. Ferocious images assail the viewer’s eyes and the faint-hearted may do well to not watch it as the violence grips one by the throat. One wonders how the tender, young child, Raimond, survived through such a brutal childhood to become a foremost academic and well-respected philosopher. The relationship between him and his father may have been the salvaging grace. As Raimond Gaita says: “On many occasions in my life I have had the need to say, and thankfully have been able to say: I know what a good workman is; I know what an honest man is; I know what friendship is; I know because I remember these things in the person of my father.”

The child actor Kodi Smit-McPhee who plays Raimond definitely is the one that carries the film, while Eric Bana does a creditable job as Romulus. Franka Potente plays Raimond’s mother and good performances are also given by Marton Czokas and Russell Dysktra as two brothers, family friends of the Gaitas. Australian TV viewers will recognize Terry Norris in a small supporting role (“Blue Heelers”, “Matlock Police” “Division 4” and “Homicide” - and how he has aged!).

The music by Basil Hogios and the cinematography by Geoffrey Simpson are a great addition to the film and contribute hauntingly to the atmosphere. Although there is great sadness and loneliness expressed in the film, there is also an underlying optimism and determination to succeed in the face of adversity. Raimond’s success in later life can be read between the lines and in the epilogue screen after the fade out, we are pleased to learn that Romulus also found some tranquility and fulfillment later in life also.

It is a grim film, a violent and powerful one, but worth seeing nevertheless.

ART SUNDAY - FATHERS' DAY


“I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection.” - Sigmund Freud

It is Fathers’ Day here in Australia today and many a family were celebrating Dad’s special day. For Art Sunday, quite aptly a painting inspired by the day: Rembrandt’s “The Return of the Prodigal Son” (1662, Hermitage Museum, St Petersburg), illustrating one of the most poignant of the parables in the New Testament.

Luke 15:11-32 (21st Century King James Version)
And He said: “A certain man had two sons. And the younger of them said to his father, `Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me.' And he divided unto them his estate. And not many days after, the younger son gathered all together and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living. And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land, and he began to be in want.

And he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he would fain have filled his belly with the husks that the swine ate, and no man gave unto him. And when he came to himself, he said, `How many hired servants of my father's have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger! I will arise and go to my father and will say unto him, "Father, I have sinned against Heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son. Make me as one of thy hired servants."'

And he arose and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him. And the son said unto him, `Father, I have sinned against Heaven and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.' But the father said to his servants, `Bring forth the best robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand and shoes on his feet. And bring hither the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and be merry; for this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.' And they began to be merry.

"Now his elder son was in the field; and as he came and drew nigh to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called one of the servants and asked what these things meant. And he said unto him, `Thy brother is come, and thy father hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath received him safe and sound.' And he was angry and would not go in; therefore came his father out and entreated him. And he answering said to his father, `Lo, these many years have I served thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment; and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends. But as soon as this thy son was come who hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf.' And he said unto him, `Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry and be glad; for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.'”

Happy Fathers’ Day!