A DAY IN ADELAIDE

“By working faithfully eight hours a day you may eventually get to be boss and work twelve hours a day.” - Robert Frost

I was in Adelaide for work today and the day was once again hectic and full, but once again satisfying. This morning the flight was delayed at Melbourne airport because there was heavy fog in Sydney. All of the international flights that could not land in Sydney airport were diverted to Brisbane and Melbourne. This wrought havoc with the outbound flights at Melbourne and our plane ended up sitting on the tarmac for 40 minutes. I always try to get a very early flight as those usually don’t have many disruptions, but my luck ran out today. Nevertheless, I was on time for my first early morning appointment in Adelaide, one advantage being that Adelaide is 30 minutes behind Melbourne time.

After my successful first appointment in one of the State Government Departments, I hurried off to the Hyatt Hotel, to go to the formal launch of South Australia’s “State of Ageing” report. This was an initiative of the State Government and the Minister for Ageing, the Hon Jennifer Rankine MP, officially opened the function and gave out the prizes for the best research papers and posters. Representatives of the three Universities in South Australia were there, as well as the winner of the South Australian Senior of a couple of years back who gave a very amusing talk on senescence and its joys.

The initiative and the project are extremely interesting and much needed. It is great to see a State Government in Australia take an active role in planning for the future in terms of dealing with our ageing population and the demands it will place on our social fabric. The report launched today is the first project of the South Australian Ageing Research Round Table, an initiative of the Office for the Ageing that brings together Flinders University, the University of Adelaide and the University of South Australia. The group will monitor the implications of an ageing population and link policy into practice.

I then took one of the staff members of our Adelaide Campus to lunch and discussed with her the various issues she currently faces as the campus is beginning to teach our new degrees in South Australia. That was a very fruitful meeting also and it was good to hear “straight from the horse’s mouth” the challenges the Campus faces. I then went back to the campus and inspected some recent renovations that were made and the new clinic fit outs.

The day finished with another meeting, in another Government Department. This time the topic was growth and educational partnerships. It was refreshing to hear someone in Government coming up with some great ideas and actually being helpful. That was an extremely useful meeting and we both came out of it with sheaves of notes and lots of items to go and work on. The potential for some great work is there and the opportunities many.

Did I mention I took some proof-reading with me to do on the plane? And yes I did that too. Never a dull moment! Now I think it’s time for bed and a good night’s sleep. More to do tomorrow bright and early.

senescence |səˈnesəns| noun Biology
The condition or process of deterioration with age.
• loss of a cell's power of division and growth.
DERIVATIVES
senescent adjective
senesce verb
ORIGIN mid 17th century: From Latin senescere, from senex ‘old.’

Jacqui BB hosts Word Thursday

THE MOON ALONE

“As contraries are known by contraries, so is the delight of presence best known by the torments of absence.” - Alcibiades

A poem dedicated to someone special, far away…

The Moon Alone

The wind blows all the stars away,
Sweeps them under the carpet of the clouds.
The moon alone remains high
On her silver balcony,
And smiles.

She watches me and stifles a laugh
As I search for my lost heart;
Mislaid perhaps – or hiding in a summer’s night,
Or taken by a spring morning;
Stolen?

The clouds gather and draw the curtains
Giving the moon the privacy she wants, alone.
I too sit alone, where is my soul tonight?
Flying with the gulls,
Or sailing.

The wind whistles a lonely song tonight,
The leaves shake, the tiles rattle,
The window creaks, and I’m awake, sighing.
Are you watching the moon? You too alone,
Sleepless?


Jacqui BB hosts Poetry Wednesday.

AGGIE

“The best time for planning a book is while you're doing the dishes.” - Agatha Christie
Butcher’s broom, Ruscus aculeatus, is the birthday plant for this day. In the past butchers used to sweep their shops with branches from this bush. Another use of the sprigs of the plant bearing the characteristic red berries was that butchers decorated the Christmas meats with it. A poultice made of berries and leaves was used to treat broken bones and sprains. Astrologically, this is a plant belonging to Mars.

A famous birthday for today is Agatha Christie, English novelist (1890-1976). Her website informs me that September 13th-20th is Agatha Christie week, no doubt centering on her birthday. The annual Agatha Christie Festival on the English Riviera takes place during this week, and over 40 events will take place including plays, open-air cinema screenings, tea-dances, lectures and murder mystery dinners. Other activities are organized around the world to celebrate the “Queen of Crime’s” contribution to the mystery novel genre.

I must admit that during my salad days I was an inveterate Christie fan and had read all her novels by the time I was growing out of my teens. They were well-written and full of quirky characters, good murderous fare and of course the delightful Miss Marple and the logical M. Poirot. I still have quite a lot of her books in my library and plan to have another read of them when I retire. They were so very English all of her novels and so old-wordly…

Agatha Christie’s recently discovered notebooks are a treasure trove for any fan. John Curran’s book, Agatha Christie’s Secret Notebooks also contain two unpublished Christie stories. Out in stores on the 3rd September, the books provide a fascinating insight into her writing.

On this day in 7 BC, as the sun set, a bright star rose in the eastern sky. This was a rare conjunction of the planets Saturn and Jupiter in Pisces, the latter being the planet of kings. Some astrologers suggest that this date marks the birth of Christ and the conjoined planets was the Star of Bethlehem observed by the Magi, or wise men of the East. The constellation of pisces or fishes is also noteworthy as ICTHYS in Greek is fish and also stands acronymically for Iesus Christos, Theou Yios, Soter (Jesus Christ, Son of God, Saviour). The fish has been used since ancient times as symbol for Christianity.

KINGDOM OF HEAVEN

“The age of chivalry is gone. That of sophisters, economists and calculators has succeeded.” - Edmund Burke

Well after spending all weekend proof-reading, I needed a little break and last night, for a Sunday night treat I watched Ridley Scott’s 2005 epic, “Kingdom of Heaven”. This was quite a film, especially as it was the director’s cut on Bluray disc, totalling to 192 minutes. Well, it was quite magnificent and despite its length kept me enthralled and engaged. The production was a joint European/American one and several good actors gave quite good performances: Orlando Bloom, Eva Green, Liam Neelson, Marton Csokas, Brendan Gleeson, Jeremy Irons, being just a few.

This is a film about one of the Crusades the film’s story beginning in the year 1184 AD. Balian, (Orlando Bloom) is a peasant blacksmith in France who has just lost his wife as she has committed suicide (an interesting case of post-natal depression after she delivers a stillborn baby). Balian is visited by Godfrey of Ibelin (Liam Neeson) who tells Balian that he is illegitimate son. Godfrey tries to convince Balian to join him as he is on his way to Jerusalem. Balian is reluctant, but circumstances force him to find his father and join him on the trip to Jerusalem. Godfrey dies of a wound sustained in battle, but manages to knight Balian and make him his heir to his Baronetcy of Ibelin in the Holy Land.

After various adventures, Balian finds himself in Ibelin that he makes fertile by introducing European “technology” and irrigation works. Balian also aligns himself with the leprous King of Jerusalem and with Sibylla, the king’s sister who is married and has a young son. Leprosy is depicted well in this film and there are all sorts of interesting little medical vignettes, which I enjoyed (but I am prejudiced in this respect). Balian proves himself to be more than worthy of being made a knight, while many nobles behave in a despicable way. Guy de Lusignan (Csokas), a member of the Knights Templar, is especially aggressive and intolerant, and causes a break in the good relations with the Muslims that was brokered by King Baldwin by attacking them ceaselessly. The powder keg of Jerusalem erupts when the King dies and the Muslim leader Saladin besieges the city...

The cinematography, music and direction in this film are excellent. Balian is a little bit too earnest and dour throughout, but of course he has to play the perfect knight. Jeremy Irons and Liam Neelson are very good in their roles as is the dastardly de Lusignan. The film is a very balanced view of the Christian/Muslim relationship, although the Christian clergy are the ones who are most contemptuously depicted. The true noble men whether Christian or Muslim are generous, kind, lofty of spirit and fair. The story is an allegory of sorts of the Middle East situation of the present time, as well as being a historical piece.

Saladin (Ghassan Massoud) the sultan of Egypt and Syria is shown to be a chivalrous and worthy man, who not only wins his battles but is prepared to be clement with the defeated. As such, he is respected by the Christian noblemen he ousts from the Middle East. This sympathetic depiction of the Muslim leader in this film corresponds with historical fact as Richard the Lionheart afforded Saladin, who was his nemesis, every courtesy and compliment befitting a fellow knight.

I enjoyed the film quite a lot and recommend it most highly, warning once again that there are some gory scenes of battle in it, so if you are faint-hearted then be warned.

BACCHUS BY VELAZQUEZ

“Bacchus has drowned more men than Neptune.” - Giuseppe Garibaldi

Diego Velázquez (1599-1660) is acknowledged as Spain's greatest painter and as one of the supreme artists of all time. A master of technique, highly individual in style, Diego Velázquez may have had a greater influence on European art than any other painter, and his canvases are always a delight to see. I remember visiting the Prado in Madrid several years ago and staring transfixed at his canvases. They combined superb composition, beautiful colour balance, marvellous technical expertise and above all a magnificent conception and understanding of the whole subject.

Diego Rodriguez de Silva Velázquez was born in Seville, Spain, sometime shortly before his baptism on June 6, 1599. His father was of noble Portuguese descent. In his teens he studied art with Francisco Pacheco, whose daughter he married. The young Velázquez once declared, "I would rather be the first painter of common things than second in higher art." He learned much from studying nature. After his marriage at the age of 19, Velázquez went to Madrid. When he was 24 he painted a portrait of Philip IV, who became his patron.

The artist made two visits to Italy. On his first, in 1629, he copied masterpieces in Venice and Rome. He returned to Italy 20 years later and bought many paintings (by Titian, Tintoretto, and Paolo Veronese) and statuary for the king's collection. Except for these journeys Velázquez lived in Madrid as court painter. His paintings include landscapes, mythological and religious subjects, and scenes from common life, called genre pictures. Most of them, however, are portraits of court notables that rank with the portraits painted by Titian and Anthony Van Dyck.

Duties of Velázquez' royal offices also occupied his time. He was eventually made marshal of the royal household, and as such he was responsible for the royal quarters and for planning ceremonies. In 1660 Velázquez had charge of his last and greatest ceremony, the wedding of the Infanta Maria Theresa to Louis XIV of France. This was a most elaborate affair. Worn out from these labours, Velázquez contracted a fever from which he died on August 6, 1660.

Velázquez was called the "noblest and most commanding man among the artists of his country." He was a master realist, and no painter has surpassed him in the ability to seize essential features and fix them on canvas with a few broad, sure strokes. "His men and women seem to breathe," it has been said; "his horses are full of action and his dogs of life." Because of Velázquez' great skill in merging color, light, space, rhythm of line, and mass in such a way that all have equal value, he was known as "the painter's painter."

The painting above is his “Drunkards” or “The Feast of Bacchus”. Velázquez was inspired by Ovids Metamorphoses to paint this between 1628-1629. He held a point of view toward mythology, common in the 17th century, that saw the activities of pagan divinities as less than divine and the behaviour of humans under their influence as less than Christian. Thus, his Bacchus is a callow, overweight youth with flaccid muscles; the inebriated rustics are buffoons. Velázquez points his moral at the right, where a beggar is refused with false regret by one of the bacchants. The distant gaze of the god of wine is rather a nostalgic look towards the past and a means of distancing himself from the sordidness of the scene around him.

Bacchus was he Roman equivalent of the Greek god Dionysus, a distinctly Greek invention. This was a god of merrymaking and the theatre, entertainment and sexuality. Of green things and fertility, of festivity but also one of divine justice and a protector of innocence and youth. One of the myths recounted of his early life recounts how as a youth he was captured by Tyrrhenian pirates so that he could be sold into slavery. In the middle of the ocean, the god annoyed with their presumptuousness, made the ship fill with fragrant sweet wine and as the pirates greedily started to drink he turned them into dolphins and they leapt into the sea.

ALONE

“Parting is all we know of heaven and all we need to know of hell.” - Emily Dickinson

A very busy Saturday today, which was all spent proof-reading my pathology textbook. Reading proofs of a book about to be published is a little bit of an anti-climax. Once the book has been written and it has gone to the publisher, one wants it to be off one’s hands and out there. The proofs and the jolly hard work one has to do going through them with a fine tooth comb making sure all the T’s are crossed and all the I’s are dotted is a boring but essential task. And so it was today, but I managed to get through four chapters…

Tonight was a quiet night spent all alone. And this song is dedicated to the one I wish were here, but who is travelling…



Alone
(Heart)

I hear the ticking of the clock
I'm lying here the room's pitch dark
I wonder where you are tonight
No answer on the telephone
And the night goes by so very slow
Oh I hope that it won't end though
Alone

CHORUS:
Till now I always got by on my own
I never really cared until I met you
And now it chills me to the bone
How do I get you alone
How do I get you alone

You don't know how long I have wanted
To touch your lips and hold you tight
You don't know how long I have waited
You don't know how long I have waited
And I was gonna tell you tonight
But the secret is still my own
And my love for you is still unknown
Alone

CHORUS

How do I get you alone
How do I get you alone
Alone, alone

AN OLD FAVOURITE

“Part of the secret of success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside.” - Mark Twain

A classic dish for this Food Friday. This is Shepherd’s Pie, originally cooked on the day after a lamb roast was had, but one can now cook it as first off rather than a left over meal as well, since lamb mince is readily available. However, if you have some lamb roast left over from the previous day, you can certainly chop it up and substitute that for the lamb mince.

Shepherd’s Pie
Ingredients
800g potatoes, peeled and chopped
1 tbsp butter
1/4 cup milk
1 tbsp oil
1 onion, finely diced
1 clove garlic, chopped
500g lamb mince (or left over lamb roast)
2 carrots, grated
2 tbsp tomato paste
1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp chopped rosemary
2 tbsp plain flour
375ml beef stock
1/2 cup grated tasty cheese

Method
(Preparation Time: 20 minutes; Cooking Time: 25 minutes; Serves 4)
1. Preheat oven to 180°C. Place potatoes into a saucepan of boiling salted water. Cook for 20 minutes or until tender. Drain, return to saucepan, add butter and milk, mash until smooth.
2. Heat oil in a saucepan over medium heat. Add onions and garlic, cook for 5 minutes until softened. Add mince and carrot, cook until browned.
3. Add tomato paste, Worcestershire sauce and rosemary, cook, stirring, for 2-5 minutes. Remove from heat.
4. Stir in flour. Slowly add stock, stirring after each addition, until combined. Return to heat. Cook for a further 5 minutes, stirring constantly, until sauce has thickened. Spoon into a 2 Litre (8-cup) capacity ovenproof dish. Top with mashed potato then sprinkle over cheese. Bake for 15 minutes or until golden.

Have a good weekend!

REFLECTING ON GANDHI

“We have failed to grasp the fact that mankind is becoming a single unit, and that for a unit to fight against itself is suicide.” Havelock Ellis

Let me ask a question: Is violence ever justified? Think about it. Consider a situation where you are confronted by a series of events that leave you no other option except to react violently. What do you do? Will you resort to violence to save yourself? To save someone else? To defend family and home? To defend your country? To fight in a war that is “just”? To punish recalcitrant offenders? To execute a criminal? Human history is full of wars, killing, heinous acts of extreme brutality and cruelty of man against man. We acknowledge this and are quick to denounce these acts. And yet, we quickly justify self-defence and the defence of our loved ones who are under violent attack. We distinguish between just and unjust wars. We defend revolutions, which assume justified violence. Freedom fighters are heroes who die for just causes, wanting to liberate their country, their people, willing to die for their cause…

And it is from here on that we get into deeper water that keeps on getting hotter. When does a “freedom fighter” become a terrorist? When does a revolution become a massacre of innocents? When does a “just war” become an excuse for an economically or politically or racially or socially-driven pogrom? Who justifies it? Whose justice does the violence serve? Must we become personally involved in an evil action in order to realise that it is evil as we perform it? Is it not enough for us as logical beings to judge such actions as vicious and avoid them altogether? How can we justify the unjustifiable? Defend the indefensible?

Gandhi said “I am prepared to die, but there is no cause for which I am prepared to kill”. He was the ultimate proponent of non-violence at a time when his country was embroiled in violent clashes with the occupying British. When his countrymen advocated a bloody revolution in order to liberate themselves and their country from the oppressing colonial forces, he was the champion of the non-violent revolution. Through his passive aggression and gentle strength he was able to lead his people to independence. Gandhi was careful to distinguish non-violence from cowardice:

“Nonviolence is not a cover for cowardice, but it is the supreme virtue of the brave. Exercise of nonviolence requires far greater bravery than that of swordsmanship. Cowardice is wholly inconsistent with non-violence. Translation from swordsmanship to nonviolence is possible and, at times, even an easy stage.”

Gandhi showed that non-violence was an effective means of resistance, of revolution, of passive aggression. His ideas stemmed from his deep belief in the goodness of human beings and in the spark of the divine that is within each of us. His sincere belief in a benevolent, peaceful God motivated his philosophy and he was ready to espouse other religions in which he recognised his God called by another name. Christianity was familiar to him, although Christians were not always representative of their faith: “I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” His philosophy is summed up by: “Non-violence requires a double faith, faith in God and also faith in man.”

Tonight, on the eve of a terrible anniversary, it is appropriate to think of Gandhi and his ideas of non-violence. Terrorism had no place in Gandhi’s universe and even a justifiable act of violence was anathema to his philosophy. That a man like him died a violent death in the hands of an assassin is the ultimate irony. Such acts of terrorism are the most despicable acts that human beings are capable of. Killing the innocent, murdering the adherents of non-violence, executing the blameless are all acts like re-crucifying Christ all over again.

Have we learned anything in these last eight years since 9/11? Has the world changed? Has the “war against terror” achieved anything? I think not. Every morning I hear on the news reports of suicide bombings, of renewed terrorism threats, of violence and more violence. Where is it leading us, when will it end? And will there be human beings left on this planet to see the end of it?

passive resistance |ˈpasiv| |riˈzistəns| noun
Nonviolent opposition to authority, esp. a refusal to cooperate with legal requirements: They called for protest in the form of passive resistance.
ORIGIN late Middle English: from Latin passivus, from pass- ‘suffered,’ from the verb pati. + from Old French resister or Latin resistere, from re- (expressing opposition) + sistere ‘stop’ (reduplication of stare ‘to stand’ ).

Jacqui BB hosts Word Thursday.

MEDIOCRITY

“The first study for the man who wants to be a poet is knowledge of himself, complete: he searches for his soul, he inspects it, he puts it to the test, he learns it. As soon as he has learned it, he must cultivate it! I say that one must be a seer, make oneself a seer. The poet becomes a seer through a long, immense, and reasoned derangement of all the senses. All shapes of love suffering, madness. He searches himself, he exhausts all poisons in himself, to keep only the quintessences. Ineffable torture where he needs all his faith, all his superhuman strength, where he becomes among all men the great patient, the great criminal, the great accursed one--and the supreme Scholar! For he reaches the unknown! ...So the poet is actually a thief of Fire!” - Arthur Rimbaud

A poem for a thief of words – a poem that will not easily be “borrowed”. I thought that what was freely given could hardly be stolen, except by one whose joy derives from the act of kleptomania…

Mediocrity

Hail, all-bright Lady Mediocrity!
You shine on radiantly, unashamedly
Although your light is but reflected.

You utter well-turned phrases
Your ears so used to accolades,
Even if the applause you hear is for mouthing stolen wit.

Magnanimously you bend low
Giving alms to the needy all around you,
But your munificence runs on borrowed funds.

Hail bright, if slightly tarnished star,
Lord help preserve us from your indiscretions,
There is so much of your second-hand originality around us.

Jacqui BB hosts Poetry Wednesday

INTERNATIONAL LITERACY DAY 2009

“He who opens a school door, closes a prison.” - Victor Hugo

The photograph above by David Seymour moves me and makes me quietly introspective. The contrast between the gnarled old hands and the childlike letters they labour to write is a confronting sight. We take it for granted that an adult can read and write. We refuse to acknowledge that there is a reason nowadays for anyone to be illiterate. Yet, even today throughout the world, one in five adults is still not literate and two-thirds of them are women while 75 million children are out of school. Illiterate generations still cede their place to illiterate offspring and in developing countries, it still remains an enormous problem.

Have you ever thought what it would be like not being literate? I was immersed in such an experience when I was visiting Egypt about 30 years ago. I was in Aswan and in those days, English speakers were few and far between in Southern Egypt. I could communicate mainly with gestures and with a few elderly people in pidgin French. The most intimidating, humbling and disempowering experience that I had was being surrounded by signs, newspapers, magazines, street names, traffic signs, all written in Arabic – a script and language that I was completely unfamiliar with. It was then that I realised how an illiterate person felt, surrounded by a sea of mysterious symbols that they couldn’t understand…

Literacy is a human right, a tool of personal empowerment and a means for social and human development. The most effective way to disenfranchise and render powerless a group is to deprive them of the right to literacy. Spoken language and oral communication are a characteristically human trait that distinguishes us from animals, however, being able to command the written form of language is the difference between the civilised and the uncivilised, the powerful and the weak, the influential and ineffectual, the advantaged and the disadvantaged, the prominent and the obscure.

Educational opportunities depend on literacy and without literacy even the most basic of educations is impossible. Literacy is essential for eradicating poverty, reducing child mortality, curbing population growth, achieving gender equality and ensuring sustainable development, peace and democracy. A good quality basic education equips students with literacy skills for life and further learning; literate parents are more likely to send their children to school; literate people are better able to access continuing educational opportunities; and literate societies are better geared to meet pressing development.

This year, International Literacy Day put the spotlight on the empowering role of literacy and its importance for participation, citizenship and social development. Literacy and Empowerment is the theme for the 2009-2010 biennium of the United Nations Literacy Decade.

I look at the photograph above and I feel an immense gratitude towards my parents, my teachers, and the luck of the draw that resulted in me being born in an environment where I was assured of being amongst the four of five that were literate, rather than the one in five who isn’t. You are reading this and therefore you should celebrate with me your literacy. Happy Literacy Day 2009!

BANG BANG WEDDING

“Marriage (noun): The state or condition of a community consisting of a master, a mistress, and two slaves, making in all, two.” - Ambrose Bierce


We went to the 16th Greek Film Festival here in Melbourne, last week and saw one of the Greek films on show, “Bang Bang Wedding” («Το Γαμήλιο Πάρτι» in Greek, meaning “The Wedding Reception”). This was a 2008 romantic comedy directed by Christine Crokos and starred Alex Dimitriades, Faye Xyla, Betty Maggira, Chrysa Ropa, Wilma Tsakiri and Christos Biros. There was a connection with Australia as the leading man, Alex Dimitriades is an Australian-Greek who has been in several films in Australia already. This was his first Greek film.

The film was pleasant enough, although rather thin on plot and unfortunately, some great opportunities for great comedy went unexploited. It managed to raise chuckles in us, although some members of the audience had come prepared to laugh big time and they did (even at inappropriate points, I’m afraid – but maybe I am being a snob…). We felt throughout that the potential of the cast was underutilised and the fault was mainly with the script, but also the rather pedestrian direction.

The plot revolves around a wedding taking place in Crete. The family is Cretan, but its members live all around the world and the wedding serves as an excuse to bring them all together in order celebrate and do some family bonding. The groom is a fashion photographer and the bride an ecologist –very modern and very emancipated. The parents, in-laws and extended family and friends provide some sub-plots which are rather insubstantial and to pad out the film there is also a private party in a villa that wedding guests crash into. This because the wedding invitations give wrong directions on how to get to the rather isolated country property where the wedding reception will be held. Most of the film revolves around the adventures of the guests and family as they try to get to the reception. The bride and groom argue and decide to get a divorce, each going their separate ways, only to find that they are still madly in love with each other. The bride’s stepmother gets amnesia, the groom’s mother gets drunk, the groom’s father turns up with his new English wife and throws a spanner in the works, while some wedding guests have a good time at the party, which is not the wedding party.

The scenery of Crete formed a gorgeous backdrop for some scenes and the music was interestingly quirky, although not so much Greek as one would have expected. The film was pleasant and amusing, but not one of the great comedies. If you come across it and one-and-a-half hours to spare, watch it. But certainly, don’t go out of your way to find it in order to watch it!

A CYNICAL ART SUNDAY

“True contentment depends not upon what we have; a tub was large enough for Diogenes, but a world was too little for Alexander.” - Charles Caleb Colton

For your delectation on this Art Sunday, a painting by Jean-Léon Gérôme (May 11, 1824 - January 10, 1904). Gérôme was a French painter and sculptor in the style now known as Academicism. The range of his oeuvre included historical painting, Greek mythology, Orientalism, portraits and other subjects, bringing the Academic painting tradition to an artistic climax.

Born at Vesoul (Haute-Saône), he went to Paris in 1840 where he studied under Paul Delaroche, whom he accompanied to Italy (1843-1844). He visited Florence, Rome, the Vatican and Pompeii, but he was more attracted to the world of nature. Taken by a fever, he was forced to return to Paris in 1844. On his return he followed, like many other students of Delaroche, into the atelier of Charles Gleyre and studied there for a brief time. He then attended the École des Beaux-Arts. In 1846 he tried to enter the prestigious Prix de Rome, but failed in the final stage because his figure drawing was inadequate.

A little before he died he wrote to Aublet, one of his students: “I begin to have enough of life. I've seen too much misery and misfortune in the lives of others. I still see it every day, and I'm getting eager to escape this theatre.” He was to live just ten more days and perhaps knew that his heart was weakening.

This painting of his is “Diogenes” (1860), the famous ancient Greek philosopher, foremost of the school of cynics (kyon/kynos – “dog” in Greek). Cynicism called for a closer imitation of nature, the repudiation of most human conventions, and complete independence of mind and spirit. Diogenes (ca. 400-ca. 325 BC) was the son of Hicesias, and was born in Sinope. He arrived in Athens after he and his father had been exiled from their native city for debasing the coinage in some way. His life in Athens was one of great poverty, but it was there that he adopted Antisthenes's teachings and became the chief exponent of Cynicism.

Diogenes was not famous for developing a strong theoretical argument for his way of life. Antisthenes, the pupil of Socrates, was his inspiration, and he put into practice his master's teachings in a way which made a striking impression upon his contemporaries. Indeed, it was Diogenes's application of Antisthenes's principles which gained for him the notoriety he enjoyed. His goals were self-sufficiency, a tough and ascetic way of life, and anaideia, or shamelessness. Diogenes held that through a rigorous denial of all but the barest necessities of life one could train the body to be free of the world and its delusions. Through anaideia one could show the rest of humanity the contempt in which their conventions were held. He is shown here to live in poverty in an old pot and be accompanied by the dogs that his philosophy took its name from.

The lamp he is lighting and which he used to hold aloft even in daylight was to aid him to find an “honest human being”. However, he used to say with disappointment that even with the aid of his lamp he found nothing but scoundrels and rascals. When Alexander the Great visited Diogenes, he stood in front of him happy to have met the famous philosopher. He introduced himself and asked him if he desired anything of him, as he was ruler of the world. Diogenes looked at him blandly and asked him to move sideways, as he was blocking the sunlight that warmed him. Alexander then asked him why he was staring at a pile of human bones so intently. Diogenes replied that he was trying to distinguish the bones of his illustrious father from the bones of a slave but could see no difference between the two. Alexander then said to him: “If I were not Alexander, then I should wish to be Diogenes”.

MARUZZELLA

“I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from a female mouth, And sounds as if it should be writ on satin With syllables which breathe of the sweet South.” - George Gordon Noel, Lord Byron

For Song Saturday today an old Neapolitan song from the 1950s, which I remember from my childhood. It exemplifies the idiom of this most musical of Italian cities in its lush melody and lovelorn lyrics, which need no explanation or translation, so expressive is the music. Sergio Bruni, one of the most lyrical of Neapolitan singers sings this song of unrequited love, “Maruzzella”.

A TASTE OF SINGAPORE

“Asia is not going to be civilised after the methods of the West. There is too much Asia and she is too old.” - Rudyard Kipling

I am very much looking forward to the weekend this week, a sleep in, and a little rest too. The trouble is although I start with the best intensions, come the weekend and I am busily doing the same I have been doing since a long time past: Getting up very early and working away on many projects. A leopard can’t change its spots, I guess.

Here is a recipe today, which is perfect weekend food. Doesn’t take too long to prepare and the ingredients are fairly easily obtainable at a pinch. How did I remember it? Well today I was told I may have to go to Singapore for work at the beginning of October…

Singapore Noodles with Chicken and Cashews
Ingredients (four serves)
375 ml chicken stock
125 g rice vermicelli noodles
2 tbsp olive oil
500 g chicken breast fillet, thinly sliced
1 onion, thinly sliced
2 carrots, cut into thin sticks
200 g snow peas, trimmed and halved
3 tsp mild curry powder
2 tbsp soy sauce
4 green onions, sliced
1/4 cup unsalted, roasted cashews

Method
(Preparation time: 15 minutes; Cooking time: 25 minutes)
1. Place stock in a saucepan and bring to the boil. Remove from heat. Add the noodles, toss until slightly softened. Cover and let steep for five minutes, stirring occasionally, until fully softened.
2. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a wok, or large frying pan, over high heat. Cook chicken strips in batches, for 5 minutess or until golden. Remove and set aside.
3. Heat remaining oil in wok. Add onion, cook, stirring, for two minutes.
4. Add carrots, snow peas and curry powder. Cook, stirring, for two minutes.
5. Return chicken to pan. Add soy sauce, green onions, soaked noodles and any remaining stock, toss to combine.
6. Cook, stirring, for two minutes until noodles are coated and stock is absorbed. Stir through cashews and serve.
Enjoy your weekend!

POSTCARD FROM SYDNEY!

“Who can hope to be safe? who sufficiently cautious? Guard himself as he may, every moment's an ambush.” - Horace

I was in Sydney for the day today, so another early morning flight and then back home with an evening one. So, one more long day, but once again worthwhile as its results were good beyond expectation. We had a government regulator audit to survive at our Sydney Campus, but instead of the expected problems that had foreseen, the auditors were most complimentary and identified many of the things we do as examples of “best practice”. This was most satisfying and it certainly was great encouragement for my team who worked so hard to get it all right. It was so good to see the delight in everyone’s eyes when the auditors delivered their verdict and said they recommended that we pass with flying colours!

Sydney weather was quite variable today and what started out as a sunny day ended up rainy. I took my team out to lunch, seeing how the audit was going so well and we wanted a little celebration. We had a delicious repast at one of the area’s good Italian restaurants. There was chicken schnitzel with a seasoned crumbed coating and mustard sauce on mashed potato with rocket salad, barramundi fillets with butter lemon sauce and spring vegetables, a chicken Caesar salad with crispy bacon and foccacias of various kinds, followed by wonderfully aromatic, strong Italian coffee. We managed to evade the rain and then walked back and finished with the audit.

After we had finished and got the good news, I took the train to the airport (how convenient and sensible it is to have a train station right at the airport!) and almost met a colleague at the airport, however, our planes were leaving at different terminals and the times just weren’t conducive to us meeting in the end. As I was going to the terminal where my plane was leaving, I was crossing the road at a pedestrian crossing and was nearly run over by a limousine taxi, which didn’t stop at the crossing. I was clipped on the side and nearly fell over, but managed to hang on and even though my knee was banged and my wrist was sprained, nothing else was injured. The car stopped and the driver was quite distressed, whereas I was rather relieved that I didn’t break anything, or worse… At least the car was a Mercedes and if one gets run over, it may as well be in style.

An eventful day, again and as the saying goes, “never a dull moment”!

audit |ˈôdit| noun
an official inspection of an individual's or organisation's accounts, typically by an independent body.
• a systematic review or assessment of something: A complete audit of flora and fauna at the site.
verb ( -dited , -diting ) [ trans. ]
1 conduct an official financial examination of (an individual's or organization's accounts): Companies must have their accounts audited.
• conduct a systematic review of: Auditing obstetrical and neonatal care.
2 attend (a class) informally, not for academic credit.
ORIGIN late Middle English : from Latin auditus ‘hearing,’ from audire ‘hear,’ in medieval Latin auditus (compoti) ‘audit (of an account),’ an audit originally being presented orally.

Jacqui BB is hosting Word Thursday!

WAITING

“Old Time, in whose banks we deposit our notes
Is a miser who always wants guineas for groats;
He keeps all his customers still in arrears
By lending them minutes and charging them years.” - Oliver Wendell Holmes

Continuing my peregrinations through my old notebooks and journals, finding words written long ago. How we change as we grow older… It seems only yesterday that I was writing these words and yet more than two decades have gone by. Looking at old photographs and seeing another person, full well knowing that stranger is I. The world changes, we change, and it’s only these words scribbled on yellowing paper that remain the same, but not constant. Even the meaning they are meant to capture varies with time and with my perception of the words themselves, are altered by time and experience.

Waiting

Sometimes, I feel you’re so close
When for a split second,
I find you in a stranger’s fleeting glance.
Or when I hear by chance
Words said for someone else’s ear,
And I, I make believe they were for me.
But other times,
You’re far away, light years away,
Just like tonight…

It seems impossible that we two shall meet,
But then, I close my eyes
And feel you next to me,
Even if insubstantial,
Even if only in my dreams.

Sometimes, you seem so close,
But at the same time so distant,
That I lose heart, lose hope,
I think that never shall I find you.
And then sometimes,
I think you’ll knock on my door
And come into my life,
Like you’d enter my room,
Just like tonight…

Jacqui BB hosts Poetry Wednesday!

POSTCARD FROM ADELAIDE

“The true way to render ourselves happy is to love our work and find in it our pleasure.” - Françoise de Motteville

I was in Adelaide for work for the day today and a very long day it has been, getting up at 4:30 am, catching the 6:00 am flight and then slogging through back to back appointments all day (fortunately all concentrated around the CBD). Although I finished by 4:30 pm, I had a 7:30 pm flight out of Adelaide and seeing how it was a cheap one, I could not get it changed for an earlier flight. I used the time to catch up on some work in the Qantas Club lounge and also to have a drink and something to eat.

The weather this morning was cloudy and rainy, but it soon cleared to a fine, sunny day. This was good as I was able to walk around the city for my various appointments. It was very pleasant and the city was crowded and the people buoyant and happy. The trip was successful and all of my meetings went extremely well and achieved all that had been anticipated. This is always such a good feeling at the end of the day when ne is returning home and can at least be happy that the exhaustingly long day have been worth it. The picture is of one of my favourite buildings in Adelaide, the Haigh’s Chocolates Beehive Corner building. A fine 19th century red brick edifice that rises up in a neo-Gothic flurry and is undaunted by the surrounding modern high rise buildings. A wonderful touch is the flying bee on top of the corner turret.

Work that has variety associated with it vitalises me and rejuvenates me. I dislike routine and a boringly recurring timetable. My present job provides that variety and several surprises (OK, not all of them pleasant!) that keep me interested and involved in what I do. The occasional extra long days and the frequent travel add to the variety and the challenge of my position.

Tomorrow, I spend the day in Melbourne, interviewing people for a high management position, finalizing some reports and resolving some issues that have surfaced, and on Thursday I have another day trip, this time to Sydney. It will be quite a hectic week.

MOVIE MONDAY - AMERICAN HISTORY X

“A rattlesnake, if cornered will become so angry it will bite itself. That is exactly what the harboring of hate and resentment against others is - a biting of oneself. We think we are harming others in holding these spites and hates, but the deeper harm is to ourselves.” E. Stanley Jones

At the weekend we saw Tony Kaye’s 1998 film “American History X”, which we had resisted watching up until now as we had been told that it was a very violent movie. Subsequent to that I had two friends whose judgment I trust tell me that this was an excellent movie and well worth watching, despite the violence, strong themes and foul language. Being in a suitably prepared mood, we watched this film last Saturday and I must confess that we found all of the things we had heard about were true: Yes, it is very violent; yes, it has confronting themes; yes, it had foul language; but yes, it was also a powerful and important movie that looked at some of issues that are relevant today not only in the USA, but in most countries of the Western world.

The casting was excellent and all actors played their part exceptionally well, but most importantly, Edward Norton and Edward Furlong, as the two brothers, Derek and Danny Vinyard gave award-winning performances. Beverley D’ Angelo, Avery Brooks, Jennifer Lien, Ethan Suplee and Elliot Gould also give great supporting performances. The result is a gut-wrenching, moving film about self-discovery and redemption, but at a terrible price.

The plot centres on Derek Vinyard, a brutal Neo Nazi skinhead who is tried and sent to prison for three years for the murder of two black men who tried to steal his truck. In prison he discovers that things are not always what they seem, and reformed, returns home to try and salvage his family. His younger brother Daniel Vinyard who idolises him, is on the brink of following in Derek’s footsteps. The relationship between the two brothers becomes strained as Derek tries to save his younger brother from a fate similar to his own.

Tony Kaye’s direction is a little conventional at first, but even then, never hackneyed. As the film builds up to its climax, subtlety and innovation become apparent and the viewer is drawn into the drama with a style that builds the tension and erupts into an ending that is both apocalyptic and immensely crushing. The sheer brutality of some of the scenes of the film are quite graphic and will shock many viewers. However, the most sad thing about it is that these are everyday crimes that are occurring even now. The film contains scenes of sex, violence, murder, rape, references to drug use, racial vilification, foul language and yet all of this is relevant to the theme and the plot. Not for the faint-hearted, but it is a film for people with a heart.

I do recommend that you see this movie if you haven’t seen it, but prepare to be shocked and moved, enraged and confronted by powerful themes. The emotional response that it evokes is strong and it is done in a way that caters to the intelligence and critical review of the watcher.

A HOMELY SCENE BY HOOCH

“Home is a place not only of strong affections, but of entire unreserve; it is life's undress rehearsal, its backroom, its dressing room.” - Harriet Beecher Stowe

When I was young and we were living in Greece, I remember spending summer holidays at my grandparents’ place. These were some of the most idyllic and happy times of my life. I was carefree and spoilt, used to play with the neighbourhood children and I adored my grandfather, especially. There was a garden with fruit trees and vines, a flat roof with a little storeroom at the back of it where I found bundles of old magazines that I read in the summer afternoons when everyone else took their siesta and nearby fields where I went exploring.

One of the things I remember about their house was that there was a series of Dutch Master prints hanging in the walls of the hallway. One of those always fascinated me and I used to look at it often and was drawn into its quiet mystery. It always seemed to me that if I looked at it long enough and willed hard enough I would somehow be transported into the painting and explore its mysteries. Once we moved and after my grandparents died, it was many years before I saw those paintings again.

As far as my favourite mysterious painting is concerned, it was “The Mother” by Pieter de Hooch, painted about 1660. I encountered the original of this when I was living in Amsterdam and visited the Rijksmuseum. This museum became one of my haunts and every couple of days I used to visit it in order to immerse myself in its treasures. The de Hooch painting is fairly small, 52.5 x 61 cm, but nevertheless it exerted on me the same magic as it did in my childhood. The immediate comparison one may make is with the paintings of Vermeer, another Dutch master of the Golden Age of Dutch painting.

Pieter de Hooch (1629-1684) has gone down in art history as a painter who rendered Dutch domestic life with great precision and verisimilitude. The everyday life of the bourgeoisie in all its ordered tranquillity and its private moments, is the subject of his works. He depicts a world whose calm is never shattered by any sensational event and the scenes he chooses to immortalize are curiously familiar, timeless. De Hooch opens a window on narrow alleyways, small gardens and courtyards, and gives us a glimpse into the antechambers and living-rooms of the Dutch citizens. Like Jan Vermeer, de Hooch specialized in the portrayal of interiors.

However, the paintings of Vermeer centre on a self-absorbed figure pausing momentarily in some activity, while de Hooch's paintings are dominated by the room itself, by its perspectives and views through doors and windows where people become an integral part of the interior. Light is an important factor, especially daylight, as in the work of Vermeer, with its refractions and reflections adding vitality to the rooms. Whereas people and animals interpose in their activities, light itself becomes the active element, permeating and moving over walls, floors and tiles, illuminating objects or casting them in shadow. This depiction of figures immersed in light, whether indoors or outdoors is what makes de Hooch’s painting luminous and deep.

The painting above shows a mother checking the hair of her child for lice. A very mundane theme, but a beautifully rendered painting bathed in warm golden light. The homely touch of the pet dog looking out towards the spring garden and the patch of sunlight on the floor, attract the eye outward towards that beautiful landscape visible through the half-open door. The bed warmer and the heavily curtained bed ensconced in its own little niche (a room within a room) hint at the heavy winter that has passed. The child is squirming, eager for the ritual of the louse hunt to finish so it can go and play with the dog in the sunshine outside. A gem of a painting, ordinary and yet extraordinary in its directness and simplicity. Quite charming!

Hope you had a good weekend, enjoy the week ahead!

GREY SATURDAY

“And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares that infest the day
Shall fold their tents like the Arabs
And as silently steal away.”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

A grey lingering winter’s day today, with some rain and coldness reminiscent of late July. After a hurried morning sortie to do some shopping we came back home and stayed in for the whole of the day. In the evening, as the sun was setting the clouds parted in the western sky a little and the golden glow illuminated the grey landscape creating an eerie and almost preternatural picture.

For Music Saturday, a piece from Michael Nyman’s soundtrack of Jane Campion’s film “The Piano”.