FASTING AND FEASTING

“It’s clearly more important to treat one’s fellow man well than to be always praying and fasting and touching one’s head to a prayer mat.” - Naguib Mahfouz

While we are now well approaching Easter, it is still Lent. People of Greek Orthodox faith have been fasting for the past five weeks or so, with no meat, dairy products or eggs being consumed. The fasting gets even stricter next week, which is the final week before Easter. Some people will not even consume fish, or any kind of fat, as well as the usual restricted diet without meat, dairy products or eggs. So what will be eaten you may ask… Fresh fruits and vegetables, pulses, nuts, olives (yes, the ones from which olive oil comes – go figure!), pickles of various kinds, tahini (pulverised sesame seed paste, which is quite oily actually, so that is cheating a bit, but nevertheless allowed), bread, rice, sugar-preserved or glacé fruits, lollies, jams, marmalades. Some people also eat octopus and squid, but they are rather boring when prepared without oil.

Fasting is good for health, especially so the first kind, not the highly restrictive type mentioned in the latter case. During fasting the body is rid of toxins, lighter meals are consumed, seasonal fresh fruits and vegetables are eaten in greater quantities and there is a decreased fat intake, especially the saturated fats associated with eggs, meat and dairy products. There are several such fasting periods throughout the year, not only the Great Lent before Easter, but also the Lesser Lent before Christmas and then various other smaller fasting periods (for example the first two weeks of August before the Dormition of the Virgin), as well as Wednesday and Friday fast days. Here is a Greek Lenten recipe conforming with the dietary fasting rules of the less strict type (i.e. cake contains oil, but no dairy products or eggs).

ORANGE SULTANA CAKE
Ingredients

500 g white self-raising flour
500 g fine semolina
250 g olive oil (light)
500 g sugar
1.5 glassfuls of freshly squeezed orange juice
1 shot glassful of lemon juice
zest of one orange
2 tsps ground cinnamon
1 tsp ground cloves
1 shot glassful of brandy
1.5 tsps baking soda
1 glassful sultanas
Orange marmalade

Method

• Preheat the oven to 180˚C.
• Sift the flour and add the semolina, mixing well. Make a well in the centre and pour in the oil, mixing very well until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs.
• Mix the sugar and orange juice, stirring to dissolve well. Add the lemon juice, zest, cinnamon, cloves.
• Dissolve the baking soda in the brandy and add it to the sugar mixture. Add to the flour/oil mixture and mix well. Add the sultanas and mix well.
• Pour into a Bundt cake mould and bake in the pre-warmed fan-forced oven for about an hour, until it is well cooked.
• Once cooled, cut in half horizontally and remove the top carefully. Spread orange marmalade on the lower half and reassemble the cake. 

AN OASIS OF SERENITY IN SYDNEY CITY

“How fair is a garden amid the trials and passions of existence.” - Benjamin Disraeli

I was in Sydney for the day for work today, and once again it was a very full but satisfying day as a lot did get done and I was able to look at our new campus premises there. They are situated in the CBD and are in a large, modern building close to public transport, facilities, shops, services. I always like visiting Sydney, and especially so today as it was a glorious autumn day, mild and sunny. Although Melbourne is crowded and busy and cosmopolitan, Sydney is even more crowded and one often forgets that until one gets there. The traffic alone was horrendous, but walking in the City, the number of people rushing hither and thither was a bit of a challenge…

Our new premises are close to Chinatown and Darling Harbour, so it is an enviable location! One of my favourite places in Sydney is the Chinese Garden of Friendship. It is a serene, green and beautiful pocket of paradise in the midst of the helter-skelter of the metropolis. The Garden is located at the southern end of Darling Harbour, near the Sydney Entertainment Centre and adjacent to Chinatown. It is open daily from 9:30 am to 5:00 pm and attracts many local and international visitors.

The project of the Garden was begun by the Sydney Chinese community as a means of sharing their rich cultural heritage with their adopted homeland of Australia. The celebration of Australia’s 1988 Bicentenary, was the occasion for realising this project and the Chinese Garden is the result of a close bond of friendship and cooperation between the sister cities of Sydney and Guangzhou in Guangdong Province, China.

The Chinese Garden of Friendship was designed and built by Chinese landscape architects and gardeners. Similar to every classical Chinese Garden, there are traditional principles, which are considered and govern the use of four key elements of water, vegetation, stone and architecture. Together, these four elements combine to create perfect rapport with one another. The concepts of Yin and Yang, Feng Shui as well as artistic aesthetics all combine to create a harmonious and balanced whole, that leaves the visitors refreshed and calm once they have entered the compound.

The art of Chinese Garden design began in imperial parks during the Shang dynasty 3000 years ago. Later, gardens flourished on a smaller scale in the private gardens of China’s rich and powerful nobility and the successful merchant class. The Chinese Garden of Friendship at Darling Harbour is a scaled-down version of a typical private garden from this era.

Chinese Gardens differ from western-style gardens in that there are no planted flowerbeds or manicured lawns. Instead, wild aspects of nature are recreated in artfully designed landscapes that feature waterfalls, mountains, lakes and forests in “miniature”. While full-scale trees are used, there are symbolic elements that signify a clump of beautifully shaped rocks as “tall mountain”, a stand of trees as “forest”, and a large pond as “lake”, etc.

Exploring a Chinese Garden is a journey of discovery in which one finds many details that all blend together in a satisfying whole. One wanders along the pathways, crosses the bridges, climbs hillocks, observing only that part of the Garden that is visible at a time. Changing vistas bring into view new delights and surprising elements that refresh the soul and caress the eyes. As one follows the serpentine walkways, one encounters elegant pavilions, sheltered walkways and a pagoda or two scattered amongst the greenery and the rocky landscape. Private courtyards alternate with water features and art in the form of pottery, sculpture and bas reliefs for an integral part of the experience. A wonderful place to visit indeed!

serenity |səˈrenitē| noun ( pl. -ties)
The state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled: An oasis of serenity amidst the bustling city.
• (His/Your, etc., Serenity) a title given to a reigning prince or similar dignitary.
ORIGIN late Middle English: From Old French serenite, from Latin serenitas, from serenus ‘clear, fair’.

TO AUTUMN - KEATS

 
“The foliage has been losing its freshness through the month of August, and here and there a yellow leaf shows itself like the first gray hair amidst the locks of a beauty who has seen one season too many.” - Oliver Wendell Holmes

The autumnal mood has certainly taken hold of me with all this gray rainy weather we have been having, so what better for Poetry Wednesday than the old favourite, possibly what is th most anthologised poem in the English Language:

TO AUTUMN
John Keats (1795-1821)
1.
SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.

2.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

3.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

And here is the poem read out also…

A VERY WET RAM NAVAMI...

“The best thing one can do when it’s raining is to let it rain.” - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The heavens opened up last night and we experienced the wettest April day in more than 30 years. Near-record rainfall fell on parts of Melbourne with the equivalent of a month’s rainfall in about 24 hours. Flash flooding, damage to buildings, roof leaks and disruptions to transport all meant that State Emergency Services personnel, police and fire services were kept very busy. More than 200 calls to emergency services were made last night during the storms that woke many up (including us!). The Eastern suburbs (especially Burwood, Doncaster and Nunawading) were hardest hit by the storms, but the inner city was also flooded in many areas. There were reports of drivers being rescued from cars trapped in flooded roads near Syndal Station in Glen Waverley.

Rail services were disrupted, as low lying stations and cuttings were inundated, with Windsor station tracks heavily flooded, disrupting rails services for about five hours as pumps had failed. Rail system faults also surfaced at various places and caused added disruptions and delays. My own train this morning at 6:31 am was delayed for about 15 minutes, which delay time was not unusual throughout the public transport system, with trams and buses also delayed. Needless to say that traffic was particularly heavy this morning. More showers and low temperatures are forecast for tomorrow. There has also been some snow falling in the Alpine regions, and predictions for a heavy winter with good snowfalls are making the skiers very happy.

Listening to the heavy rain last night while lying in my warm bed made me grateful and content that I was in a safe, dry and warm place, while many others were not so fortunate. How many homeless were coping with the deluge, how many people had damage to heir house to deal with, how many were rushing to their aid. A siren of an emergency vehicle passing by outside underlined this thought. The sound of the rain lulled me back to sleep only to wake up later during another period of heavy rainfall. I got up and looked outside. The rain fell in long sheets, highlighted by the streetlights. Big puddles of water on the road threw wave of water to the gutter as cars rushed by, their headlights showing the heavy rain falling. I felt cold and went back to bed falling asleep again, unaware of the extent of the damage caused by the heavy rain until the next day.

Today is the Hindu festival of Sri Ram Navami (राम नवमी), celebrating the birth of Lord Rama to King Dasharatha and Queen Kausalya of Ayodhya. Ram is the 7th incarnation of the Dashavatara of Vishnu. The festival falls on the ninth day of the “shukla paksha”, or bright phase of the moon, in the lunar month of Chaitra (April-May). The first day of Chaitra, or “Ugadi”, also marks the beginning of the Indian year.

Rama is one of the ten avatars of Lord Vishnu, and one of the two most popular, along with Krishna. Consequently, Ram Navami is widely celebrated, though not on the scale of festivals like Diwali or Dussehra. According to legend, Rama was born at noon. Rama is the epitome of perfection, the “uttama purusha”, fulfilling all his duties towards both family and subjects.

Rama was the first of the four sons of King Dasharatha of Ayodhya. When it was time for Rama to be made crown-prince, his stepmother, Kaikeyi, got Dasharatha to send him to the forest for 14 years. His wife Sita and his brother Lakshmana also accompanied him. In the forest, Sita was kidnapped by Ravana, the demon king of Lanka. Rama, together with Hanuman and the monkey army, built a bridge to Lanka, killed Ravana, and brought Sita back.  It is believed that listening to the story of Rama cleanses the soul. Meditating on the noble Rama and chanting his name is believed to ease the pains of life and lead one to moksha, or liberation. It is also common practice to chant the name of Rama while rocking babies to sleep. 

Though Ram Navami is a major festival for Vaishnavites, it is widely celebrated by worshippers of Shiva, too. It is considered auspicious to undertake a fast on the day in the name of Rama. The more devout fast for nine days, from Ugadi to Ram Navami. The objective of the fast is not to ask for special favours of the deity but to seek perfection as a human being. Devotees perform elaborate “pujas” (devotions) and chant the name of Rama.

Temples of Rama have special services and bhajan sessions through the day.  One significant and popular element of the celebration is the Ramayana parayana, a discourse on the Ramayana, by a “pundit” or a professional story-teller. It usually lasts nine days, beginning on Ugadi and ending on Ram Navami. A skilled story-teller who can liven up the event by weaving in contemporary events attracts massive crowds.

Since Rama is also one of the most sung-about deities in Indian classical music and literature, week-long (and sometimes, month-long) musical programmes are organised.  Sacred places associated with Rama, like Ayodhya, Ujjain and Rameshwaram, draw tens of thousands of devotees. In Rameshwaram, thousands take a ritual bath in the sea before worshipping at the Ramanathaswamy temple.  Many places in North India host fairs in connection with the festival, culminating in spectacular fireworks on Ram Navami.

MOVIE MONDAY - SOLOMON KANE

“If a man is not rising upwards to be an angel, depend upon it, he is sinking downwards to be a devil.” - Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Yesterday afternoon we watched a strange film. It is one of these relatively lately-spawned movies derived from obscure comic books, that have had or still have a cult following. It was Michael J. Bassett’s 2009 film “Solomon Kane”. Solomon Kane, the titular hero, is gaunt and dressed in black, with a gloomy demeanour wearing his trademark slouch hat. He carries a versatile sixteenth century arsenal, usually bladed weapons, often a rapier, and at least two old fashioned pistols. Kane wanders the world to vanquish all the evil he encounters in an attempt to regain his lost soul. The character was the creation of author Robert E. Howard, and the first story was published in 1928. Howard is more famous for creating the character Conan the Barbarian.

The movie starred James Purefoy in the title role, Max von Sydow as his father, Rachel Hurd-Wood as Meredith, the slight romantic interest (more so, the damsel in distress). Pete Postlethwaite as Meredith’s father, and a host of other actors hardly recognisable under tons of make-up, latex, prostheses and other monster-making devices. Michael J. Bassett also wrote the script and if the film starts with a spoken introduction by the director/writer, I tend to groan…

The film is very definitely made for fans and cult followers, and is of marginal interest to the casual film-goer. It comes with a warning of graphic violence, which is indeed well-placed. If slashing people’s heads off and curtailing of other bodily parts with rapiers is your thing this is the film for you, otherwise if you are fainthearted, stay well away! There was too much blood and gore and violence for our taste, but that is given with the gothic/heroic type of genre that this film represents. On reflection there were quite a lot of axes in the film as well, and they got a lot of use…

There is some very good cinematography in the film, especially in the quieter moments. The music tends to be generic, but at least it is not intrusive. The performances are generally OK, with some very good cameo roles (Max von Sydow is such an example), and poor Pete Postlethwaite, a very good character actor, gives his all in one of his last film roles before his death in 2011. Rachel Hurd-Wood does a good job in looking fragile and delicately beautiful, just the thing for a damsel in distress. James Purefoy looks stern and suitably heroic when called upon to do so, doing as much he could with the (mostly) nonsensical script.

The film could have actually worked really well if the basics of the plot were retained, but the supernatural elements were eliminated. However, that would not be Solomon Kane and thousands of fans would have been disappointed. If you are a fan, no doubt you have seen this film and probably enjoyed it. If you have a good stomach for graphic violence and like supernatural themes, then you will enjoy the film. If you are a bit lily-livered, stay well away. Definitely a dick flick this Movie Monday…

ART SUNDAY - BUCOLIC RUBENS

“I roamed the countryside searching for answers to things I did not understand.” - Leonardo da Vinci

We had a wonderful Sunday today. The heating was on as it was quite cold outside, and we had a nice late breakfast with classical music and warm toast that made the house cosy. As the sun peeped out of the clouds now and then, we decided to venture out despite the weather report predicting showers and a cool day with a maximum temperature of 18˚C expected. We dressed appropriately and after some vacillation ended up going to Yarra Bend Park. This is the largest area of unspoilt native bushland left in inner Melbourne. It comprises 260 hectares of park only 4 km from the city centre with a large river flowing through it is something that few large cities can boast. This is about a kilometer from our house so it is handy to visit.

Fortunately the weather held for some time and we were able to walk along the river for a couple of hours, taking pictures, looking at the bushland, observing the many boats and canoes in the river and taking lots of beautiful photos. One of the highlights was having a look at the bat colony, which numbers about 12,000. They were all concentrated in a relatively small area of the park, hanging like furry/leathery fruits from the topmost branches of the gum trees. At about noon as we were going back to our car the showers started and thankfully we didn’t get wet, but also enjoyed the outing.

As the day was rather bucolic, here is a painting in a similar vein. It is Peter Paul Rubens’ (1577 – 1640) “Milkmaids with Cattle in a Landscape” c.1618.

Rubens was a Flemish painter and diplomat, who was educated in languages but nevertheless is most remembered as an accomplished baroque master. After apprenticeships in Antwerp, he was admitted to the painters’ guild in 1598. He went to Italy in 1600 and until 1608 worked for the duke of Mantua, who in 1603 sent him to Spain to present paintings and other gifts to Philip III, the first of many diplomatic missions he would perform for various courts over three decades. The enormous fame he would achieve made him welcome at royal courts, and sovereigns often discussed affairs of state while they sat for portraits.

Returning to the Spanish Netherlands (now Belgium) in 1608, he was appointed court painter to the Spanish Habsburg regents, and over the next decade produced numerous altarpieces. He was a devout Catholic and became the Counter-Reformation’s chief artistic proponent in northern Europe. In 1620 he was contracted to design 39 ceiling paintings for the Jesuit church, to be completed by his assistants, including the young Anthony Van Dyck. In France he painted 21 large canvases for Marie de Médicis and a tapestry cycle for Louis XIII; for Britain his Allegory of Peace and War (1629 – 30) commemorated the success of his own diplomatic efforts to end hostilities between Britain and Spain, and he decorated the royal Banqueting House for Charles I; in Spain he did more than 60 oil sketches for Philip IV’s hunting lodge.

Both kings (Charles and Philip) knighted him. His output was quite enormous, but he had a large studio full of apprentices and assistants who aided him in his work. Rubens was the greatest exponent of Baroque painting’s dynamism, vitality, and sensual exuberance. His profound stylistic influence extended over three centuries. His paintings often depicted religious and mythical heroes in realistic and exuberant poses, but he is equally respected for his landscapes and portraits. He is considered one of the greats in Western art history.

A RESTFUL SATURDAY

“My guitar is not a thing. It is an extension of myself. It is who I am.” - Joan Jett

The day today was thankfully rather more relaxed than yesterday. A late breakfast (at 7:30 am, as usually I am in at work by 7:00 am) and then a leisurely walk in the garden. The day started out fine, although windy, ahead of a change in the afternoon that brought rain. It’s still raining now and probably will for the rest of the night. How pleasant it is to listen to it gently falling outside, while in a warm, dry room…

We went and visited some friends in the morning and then did our shopping in Sydney Rd, Coburg. The street was busy with people were milling around the place, in and out of shops, in cafés and malls. This is multicultural Melbourne at its most vibrant with Turkish, Vietnamese, Greek and Lebanese shops, Chinese and Yugoslavian restaurants, Middle Eastern, Indian and Pakistani people talking their language as they walk in the street, many wearing their traditional clothes. We bought fruits and vegetables at the market, cheeses and bread and then finished by going to the library where we borrowed some books and CDs.

As it was still early when we got home, after putting away the shopping we went out again, this time to the Fairfield Boathouse by the Yarra River. This is very close to home and it is a beautiful restful place with extensive parklands all along the shores of the river and many venues for all sorts of entertainment and sport. Once again many people had the same idea, but nevertheless we enjoyed the walk and took some delightful photographs.

This evening was lovely as always and as I heard a some Spanish music on the way home, here is a wonderful Fandango by the group Mojacar Flamenco, featuring dancers Lauren Santiago, Misuda Cohen, Micaela Castellanos, with musicians Stephen Dick, Johnny Sandoval, Paulo Gustavo, playing Stephen Dick’s music.

LUNCH IN BRISBANE

“No one can understand the truth until he drinks of coffee’s frothy goodness.” - Sheik Abd-al-Qadir Gilani

I was in Brisbane for the day, for work, my day starting at 4:00 am to catch a 6:00 am flight. It was a day of non-stop meetings, which left me little time to even think, but at least it was a day of achievement as many things got done and some projects finalised. My flight back to Melbourne this evening was greatly delayed and that meant I didn’t get home until close to midnight. That makes for a very long working day. At least, the weekend is up ahead and this will be a useful time to recharge the batteries and not even think of doing any work…

Lunch today was on the run, provided by the café on the campus, which is a franchised outlet of Merlo Coffee. They do make good coffees, but also have a variety of foods, many of which are healthful and wholesome. Their blurb states: “BarMerlo stores are Italian-style espresso bars. Merlo Coffee Private blend is served – exclusive to BarMerlo espresso bars – delivered fresh-roasted daily, directly from the Merlo Coffee Torrefazione. We also have a range of freshly prepared food items, delivered daily from the team of chefs at Merlo Kitchen.”

“Torrefazione” is an Italian word for “coffee roasting house”. At the five Merlo Torrefazioni one can buy everything one needs to make the perfect coffee at home, from the beans to machines! Coffee is  roasted daily, and custom ground to the customer’s requirements to help make the best coffee at home. They also run “Coffee Appreciation sessions”, which are quite popular and will initiate the novice to the art and science of making perfect coffee in the Italian style!

We had delicious cheese and fruit platters for lunch, with several different kinds of imported and local cheeses, including leidsekaas, brie, cheddar, tasty and chèvre. There were grapes, strawberries, melon, pineapple, passionfruit and watermelon. Accompanying this feast were gourmet crackers and lavosh, breadsticks and grissini. Needless to say there was also great, freshly made coffee. The working lunch was well received.

WORLD HEALTH DAY 2011

“A good laugh and a long sleep are the best cures in the doctor's book.” - Irish Proverb

It is World Health Day today, with a special emphasis on antimicrobial resistance, which unfortunately is becoming a major problem world-wide. The World Health Organisation (WHO) is warning that antibiotic and antimicrobial drug resistance is being fuelled by widespread misuse of drugs and as a result, hundreds of thousands of people die of severe infections with multiply resistant microorganisms. As antimicrobial drug use is increasing and new drugs flood the market, illicit use and indiscriminate use of new drugs is making them useless, as the microorganisms they are meant to battle develop resistance and cause fatal infections, against which no drug is effective.

The slogan “Combat Drug Resistance” is the WHO’s call for urgent and well-organised action by governments, health professionals, industry, the community and patients in an effort to slow down the spread of drug resistance, limit its impact today and preserve medical advances for future generations. We have been spoilt these past few decades, having a wealth of miracle drugs that could cure effectively killer diseases of the past such as pneumonia, meningitis, peritonitis, tuberculosis, malaria, amoebiasis, syphilis, gonorrhoea etc.

Drug resistance of microorganisms is a natural phenomenon, through which bacteria and parasites acquire resistance to the drugs meant to kill them. It is a simple natural selection process whereby resistant mutant organisms survive because of the widespread use of drugs, which favours their survival while the susceptible organisms die. With each new generation, the microorganism carrying the resistant gene becomes ever more widespread until the drug is completely ineffective. Inappropriate use of infection-fighting drugs (underuse, overuse or misuse) causes resistant strains to emerge faster.

In 2010, nearly half a million of new cases of multidrug-resistant tuberculosis were diagnosed and extensively drug-resistant tuberculosis has been reported in 69 countries to date. The malaria parasite is acquiring resistance to even the latest generation of medicines, and resistant strains causing gonorrhea and shigellosis are limiting treatment options, with increasing numbers of people getting serious complications or dying of the consequences of widespread infection. Serious infections acquired in hospitals can become fatal because they are so difficult to treat and drug-resistant strains of microorganism are spread from one geographical location to another in today’s highly mobile and globalised world.

The WHO is advocating the following policies:
•    developing and implementing a comprehensive, financed national plan
•    strengthening surveillance and laboratory capacity
•    ensuring uninterrupted access to essential medicines of assured quality
•    regulating and promoting rational use of medicines
•    enhancing infection prevention and control
•    fostering innovation and research and development for new tools.

While governments and health organisations, are the first line of defence, hospitals and doctors must work within guidelines in order to put up a strong second line of defence. However, even the ultimate consumer, the patient, has an important role to play in this war against drug-resistant microbes. How often is it that a patient with a trivial infection, a virally-induced cold for example, demands from his doctor antibiotics? In such cases antibiotics are useless, but often the doctor bows down to the strong patient pressure and prescribes antibiotics. This is an example of indiscriminate use of antibiotics that promotes resistance of microbes that may reside in the patient’s body in very small numbers.

We are lucky to live in an age where we can be assured of timely, life-saving medical and surgical interventions that so often are life-saving. We are risking these advantages of modern medicine by misusing the very life-savers that can preserve us. Like the boy who cried “wolf” too often in jest, we too can lose all if a real wolf finally appears and threatens us and our life.

HAIKU FOR MORNING

“Do not hire a man who does your work for money, but him who does it for love of it.” - Henry David Thoreau

I have so much on at work now that there seems to be a slew of deadlines hiding under every bit of paper on my desk, ready to attack me in case I miss them. I had several appointments today, and the rest of the day was spent completing a couple of urgent documents that need be submitted by the end of the week. Several people had to contribute and because everyone else at work is also so busy, it is difficult sometimes to get them to deliver the goods. I am usually good at juggling tasks and mostly get people to cooperate, with even the recalcitrant ones managing to give me what I need by the eleventh hour. It’s sometimes stressful, but it’s good stress and I seem to thrive on it…

The morning today was crisp, dark and the sunrise was beautiful and gold. Unusually, the train was almost full this morning and they were all a talkative lot. Laughter, repartee, guffaws, animated conversations, giggles, iPods going at full blast, audible even through the headphones. And all this on the 6:30 am to the City! I walked up the stairs, eschewing the busy escalators and at the cafés by the entrance to the station I inhaled the inviting aroma of freshly roasted and ground coffee being brewed. A cup of strong, black, bitter coffee reminded me of the past…

Not dwelling on memories, I walked on to cross the road, mindful now of the empty, still cold streets and wondering whatever happened to the train crowd. The paperwork littering my desk a daunting sight, but a saving buzz from the phone ensured my day would start well. The voice at the other end warm, loving and reassuring.

Another day has started.

Haiku for Morning

Look! The East’s on fire
Darkness is quickly dispelled:
I start to think of work.

A crowded train; packed
Escalators, hubbub, din –
Cold streets are empty.

Fragrance of coffee
Warm cup; steam in the cold air.
Bitter taste, absence.

Words, numbers, papers:
My desk chaotic. Your call
Orders my morning.

A full day ahead,
The diary’s crammed, I talk on,
Loth to lose your voice.

A sunny morning,
Cool air and leaves that yellow:
Work as clouds gather.

AN APRIL BIRTHDAY

“The secret of staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age.” - Lucille Ball

If it is your birthday today, you are in good company! Here is a list of some famous people also born on this day:

Thomas Hobbes, British political philosopher (1588);
Elihu Yale, founder of the University (1649);
Catherine I, empress of Russia (1684);
Jean Honoré Fragonard, French artist (1732);
Ludwig (Louis) Spohr, composer (1784);
Jules Dupré, landscape painter (1811);
Linus Yale, lock inventor (1821);
Joseph Lister (Baron Lister of Lyme Regis), father of antisepsis (1827);
Víteslav Hálek, Czech poet (1835);
Algernon Charles Swinburne, poet (1837);
Albert Roussel, composer (1869);
Mistinguett (Jeanne Marie Bourgeois), French singer (1875;
Spencer Tracy, US actor (1900);
Bette (Ruth Elizabeth) Davis, US actress (1908);
Herbert von Karajan, conductor (1908);
Gregory Peck, US actor (1916);
Arthur Hailey, Canadian author (1920);
Ivar Giaevar, Nobel laureate (1973) physicist (1929);
Nigel Hawthorne, actor (1929);
Jane Asher, actress (1946);
Judith Resnick, US astronaut victim of Challenger (1949);
Agnetha Faltskög, ABBA singer (1950).

The blue violet, Viola odorata, is today’s birthday flower.  It symbolises love and faithfulness.  The plant in Greek mythology supposedly sprang from drops of blood shed by Ajax, one of the valiant Greek warriors of the Trojan War.  The ancient Greeks called the violet, ion, after Io, one of the loves of Zeus. Hera, Zeus’s wife, became very jealous when she discovered this affair and Zeus turned Io into a heifer so that she could escape Hera’s wrath.  Io fed on violets when she had been turned into a heifer.  Astrologically, the violet is under the dominion of Venus and the sign of Aries.

ARIES THE RAM (March 21st - April 20th) is your sign, which is ruled by Mars. It is a cardinal, positive, masculine, fire sign.  Polar or opposite sign is Libra. Fixed Star: Hamal. The Arian is Adventurous, Choleric, Competitive, Daring, Direct, Energetic, Enthusiastic, Eager, Forceful, Generous, Hasty, Honest, Impatient, Leading, Optimistic, Pioneering, Warm.

The Arian may be summarised with the verb: “I am”.  They are pioneers and trendsetters, go-getters and daredevils who know what they want and are sure of their abilities.  An Arian quote: “I want what I want and I want it when I want it!”

The Sun in Aries represents new beginnings. The Arian is full of enthusiasm and creative energy and is ready to apply this energy to initiate new enterprises. Never intimidated by failure, they are always ready to overcome obstacles and seek new challenges. These people have a strong desire to lead the way for others, finish first, and prove themselves more through actions and deeds than through words. They rarely give up things they have started and it is not unusual to find Arians amongst the explorers and adventurers.

The Arians are energetic and restless, generally excelling in sports and games.  They will rarely put up with situations that irritate them either in work or personal life.  As they are often uncompromising, their partners will need to yield.  When provoked the Arian can be violent, aggressive and argumentative. However, the anger is soon dissipated and grievances do not last long.  In love, the Arian can be possessive, jealous and faithful, often idealistic.

Leadership and challenge are what the Arian excels in and under a well-placed birth chart, these people will direct their energy to useful enterprises in which their courage and good sense will prevail with beneficial and fruitful results. Creativity is often neglected as the Arian is too busy and too active with other interests.  Dull routine is not for these people and in their career they engage in trendsetting activities, explore new areas, and develop original ideas.  The Arians abhor people getting in their way and they can be ruthless in achieving their aims.

The birthstone for April is the diamond.  The name of the gem is derived from the Greek adamas, meaning “unconquerable”, referring to the extreme hardness of this gemstone. The pure clear fire of the diamond is unmatched by any other stone.  Very expensive diamonds may also be coloured yellow, pink or blue. It is identical to graphite in composition, but is crystalline, thus formed under extremes of pressure and heat.  South Africa is the world’s most famed producer of beautiful diamonds, often of a large size.

Happy Birthday!

MOVIE MONDAY - NANNY McPHEE

“If you carry your childhood with you, you never become older.” - Tom Stoppard

As we were babysitting for a little while at the weekend, we watched a kids’ movie, which certainly pleased our young charge, but also left the grownups quite amused. It was a sequel, the 2010 Susanna White movie “Nanny McPhee and the Big Bang”. The first film in the series was the 2005 “Nanny McPhee" directed by Kirk Jones. In both cases, the talented Emma Thompson not only stars in the film, but also has written the screenplay, based on characters in the Christianna Brand books, where Nurse Matilda is the equivalent Nanny. The films have as their foundation a governess who uses magic to rein in the behaviour of the naughty children in her charge. Along the way she teaches them valuable life lessons and with each lesson learnt, her hideous face becomes a little more beautiful. This of course is not a new plot, as one may remember the Mary Poppins series of children’s books by P.L. Travers. Once again a magical nanny comes into a troubled household, not wanted but needed, to put it right and leave just when she is no longer needed, but wanted.

This particular episode is set in England at the time of WWII, in the countryside. Nanny McPhee appears to help out a farmhouse family where the father is at war. The mother (Maggie Gyllenhaal) is under pressure to sell the farm to her nasty brother-in-law (Rhys Ifans), a ne’er-do-well who will not rest till he gets his way in order to repay his gambling debts. Meanwhile the children’s snooty, upper crust, spoilt London cousins come to stay in order to avoid the bombings in London.

 Nanny McPhee deals with all problems calmly and teaches the children five important lessons.

The cinematography is beautiful and the special effects engaging. One of the highlights of the film is the synchronised swimming piglets (look out Esther Williams!), while quite amusing is Nanny McPhee’s pet blackbird with the eating problem. The music is light-hearted and suited to he action, the children play well, while an added bonus are supporting role parts by Maggie Smith, Ewan McGregor and Ralph Fiennes.

The film has some sensitive themes that are dealt with light-heartedly, yet not dismissively nor off-handedly. Particularly poignant is the warm, loving relationship of the children with their absent father, while the cousins’ relationship with their divorcing parents provides a contrasting counterfoil. The confrontation between Cousin Cyril (Eros Vlahos) and his soldier father (Ralph Fiennes) in the War Office in London is particularly touching. The final scene containing a link between the first film and the sequel is very plaintive as it gets the viewer to reflect on childhood versus old age, with the indomitable, ever-capable and magical Nanny as the link.

This is a very entertaining film which I recommend for children of all ages, and if possible try to watch the first film before the sequel. Both are very good and will appeal to very young children as well as older ones. There are enough adult references to keep the movie appealing enough for grown-ups and both movies are excellent family fare. Well done, Ms Thompson!

ROCOCO & CANALETTO

“Venice is like eating an entire box of chocolate liqueurs in one go.” - Truman Capote

Rococo, which is also referred to as “Late Baroque” is an 18th century style which developed as Baroque artists gave up symmetry in their works. Their style became increasingly ornate, florid, and playful. Rococo rooms were designed as total works of art with elegant and ornate furniture, small sculptures, ornamental mirrors, and tapestry complementing architecture, reliefs, and wall paintings. It was largely supplanted by the more severe and simple Neoclassic style.

In 1835 the Dictionary of the French Academy stated that the word Rococo “usually covers the kind of ornament, style and design associated with Louis XV’s reign and the beginning of that of Louis XVI”. It includes all types of art produced around the middle of the 18th century in France. The word Rococo is seen as a combination of the French rocaille, meaning stone, and coquilles, meaning shells, due to reliance on these objects as motifs of decoration.

Italian Rococo was mainly inspired by French Rococo, as France was the founding nation of Rococo. The styles of the Italian Rococo were very similar to those of France. The style in Italy was usually lighter and more feminine than Italian Baroque art, and became the more popular art form of the settecento. The leading artistic centres during the Rococo in Italy were Venice, Genoa and Rome. Most Italian Rococo artists came from Venice, such as Canaletto, Tiepolo, Guardi, Piazzetta and Bellotto, but also from Rome and Genoa, such as Piranesi and Pannini. Artists such as Castiglione and Magnasco brought the vogue of Rococo art to Naples, and Neapolitan Rococo was mainly based on landscapes and naturalistic themes. Canaletto and Tiepolo were possibly one of the greatest rococo painters of all time, and they painted many frescos and cityscapes (particularly Canaletto).

Giovanni Antonio Canal (1697 – 1768), known as Canaletto, was born in Venice, the son of a theatrical scene painter. He was very influential, famed for his precisely depicted and evocative views of the city (“vedute”). He found that providing formulaic paintings for tourists was very lucrative. These, still highly skilled works, were produced by him often in collaboration with an organised workshop. They usually record the lavish Venetian public ceremonies, as in “Regatta on the Grand Canal”.

Canaletto was favoured by English collectors. He visited England repeatedly between 1746-56, painting works like “Eton College”. His most important assistant was his nephew Bellotto, who became an accomplished artist. Canaletto often made meticulous preparatory drawings. He may have used a camera obscura for topographical accuracy in creating some of his designs, but he always remained concerned with satisfying compositional design, not simply slavishly recording views.

Here is Canaletto’s “The Bucintoro at the Molo on Ascension Day” painted circa 1732. It is an oil on canvas painting, part of the Royal Collection, UK. It is typical of his Venetian “vedute” and a perfect souvenir for a young gentleman after completing his “grand tour” that had included famous Venice. One can imagine it afterwards hanging in pride of place in some dark grey but noble house, reminding the nobleman of his wild oats sowing in sunny Italy…

MOONLIGHT

“How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank.
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night
Become the touches of sweet harmony.” - William Shakespeare

A relaxing day today, just as I had hoped it would be. And just to finish the day off gently and sweetly, here is a beautiful Hindi song from the film Eklayva. It is called Chanda Re (“The Moon Song”) and sung wonderfully by Hamsika Iyer.

APPLE CLAFOUTIS

“And there never was an apple, in Adam’s opinion, that wasn’t worth the trouble you got into for eating it.” - Neil Gaiman

I am so glad this week is over. It has been full-on and I feel exhausted. I am looking forward to the weekend in order to rest a little and relax. Hopefully there won’t be too many chores around the house and garden to do, although that is too much of a vain hope, as there so many little jobs always waiting, especially as autumn advances...

It was April Fool’s Day today and I heard nothing clever, I’m afraid, only some very tired and corny jokes, pranks and tasteless pictures. It surely is a sign of getting old, I think.

A French-inspired autumn recipe today, to take advantage of the wonderful new season apples that are now appearing in great numbers and variety in the markets and greengrocers’ shops at the moment. The clafoutis is a typical French dessert, which is like a tart crossed with cake and typically consists of cherries baked in a sweet batter. Numerous variations on this theme exist where different types of fruit take the place of the cherries. Here is such a seasonal variation:

Apple Clafoutis
Ingredients
4 cups peeled, sliced apples
1 ½ cups whole milk
4 eggs
½ cup self-raising flour, sifted
½ cup sugar
1 ½ teaspoons vanilla essence

Icing sugar and ground cinnamon for dusting

Method
1) Preheat oven to 175°C. Lightly grease a deep 25 cm pie plate.
2) Arrange the apples evenly over the bottom of the plate.
3) Combine milk, vanilla, sugar and eggs in a blender until smooth.
4) Add the flour and blend 5 seconds.
5) Pour batter over apples. Bake 60 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out dry.
6) Serve warm after dusting with icing sugar and cinnamon.

TWILIGHT

“The greatest gift of the garden is the restoration of the five senses.” - Hanna Rion Ver Beck

I got home a little earlier than usual this evening and made the most of the fine, mild autumn evening and went out into the garden. The sun was setting, the evening air crisp and cool and the garden starting to become filled with violet shadows as it surrendered to the reign of approaching night. The sun turned the treetops a golden orange and the white flowers of the cosmos only shone out like beacons, but as the eye examined them the white was an illusion, their petals more a steely-greyish, light blue, their normally chrome yellow centres a drab beige. The red flowers of the azaleas and the roses were a crimson brown and the bright orange of the marigolds had turned a dull terracotta.

The crepuscular mood suited me well and I lingered in the advancing dusk, smelling the sweet fragrance of the late flowering jasmine, the bracing pungency of rue, the freshness of mint and pennyroyal, the flowery softness of rose geranium. I examined the reddish lantern-like physalis, the burgeoning seedpods of dying summer annuals and the yellowing leaves of the tomato plants, still holding on tenaciously to their ripening fruit. The foliage of the orange tree was a dark, vivid green and the small green unripe oranges full of life, promising bursts of juicy sunshine in the depths of winter ahead.

We rush around and keep ourselves forever busy, not really taking in much of what surrounds us. A veiny fern leaf hides so much beauty, a sun-warmed rock possesses a wealth of tactile pleasures, a sprig of rosemary conceals a thousand memories of the spicy aromas of Arabia. A ripe apple bursts in our mouth and releases sweetness and honeyed favoursome juices and remembrances of spring blossoms. The two-note chirping of a bird echoing in the evening light as the leaves rustle in the rising breeze, with the distant chiming of a wind-harp become a sweet symphony. Such simple things can give so many and such great pleasures, if only we sit, relax and take it all in…

The back garden this evening became a serene place, a quiet refuge, a cloister, an isolated hermitage. I secluded myself there and removed all thoughts from the rush of the day, the petty squabbles, the deceit and the treachery, the mad noise of traffic and the loud hubbub of crowds. The silent statues looked on complicitly and their smiles frozen in stone seemed to signal approbation of my little respite. I shut my mind to the harshness of environmental disasters, the agony of wretches battling for survival, the torment of populaces embroiled in wars and battles. I meditated on my good fortune and thanked with all my being the happy accident of my existence that was generous enough to allow me to enjoy this quiet time in the peace of an autumn garden.

It was in the mauve depths of late twilight that I made my way back into the warmly lit house, as the wind began to blow and its bite could be felt through my clothes. I had entered a temple and had prayed, I had mediated and had rejoiced. My senses had been refreshed and my mind lightened. Now it was time for me to return to the everyday routine and anticipate tomorrow as yet another day full of the mad rush of urban living. But I was grateful and refreshed, my mind was at ease and my heart was delighted…

crepuscular |krəˈpəskyələr| adjective
Of, resembling, or relating to twilight.
• Zoology (of an animal) appearing or active in twilight.
ORIGIN mid 17th century: From Latin crepusculum ‘twilight’

BETRAYAL

“All a man can betray is his conscience.” - Joseph Conrad

Betrayal is hard to cope with, but it is perhaps felt even more sharply and keenly when it is combined with ingratitude on the part of the traitor. Such behaviour can highlight the worse in human beings and shows the basest kinds of motivations and urges that people can display. While we may all have been betrayed to an extent at one or another stage of our life, major forms of disloyalty and treachery that affect us can crush us and have widespread effects, psychologically and emotionally.

THE WORLD

BY day she woos me, soft, exceeding fair:
But all night as the moon so changeth she;
Loathsome and foul with hideous leprosy
And subtle serpents gliding in her hair.
By day she woos me to the outer air,
Ripe fruits, sweet flowers, and full satiety:
But through the night, a beast she grins at me,
A very monster void of love and prayer.
By day she stands a lie: by night she stands
In all the naked horror of the truth
With pushing horns and clawed and clutching hands.
Is this a friend indeed; that I should sell
My soul to her, give her my life and youth,
Till my feet, cloven too, take hold on hell?

Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)

THE VEXED CASE OF JEREMY MORLOCK

“Never think that war, no matter how necessary, nor how justified, is not a crime.” - Ernest Hemingway

Have you heard of Jeremy Morlock? He is an unfortunate 22-year-old American soldier who was found guilty in a court martial on the 23rd of March 2011, for his reprehensible actions while part of a “rogue killing squad” that murdered unarmed Afghan men between January and May in 2010 in Afghanistan. He was sentenced to 24 years in gaol The judge, Lt Col Kwasi Hawks, said he had intended to sentence Morlock to life in prison with the possibility of parole but had been bound by a plea bargain under which Morlock would be sentenced to a maximum of 24 years in prison in return for testifying against his comrades.

Morlock pleaded guilty to three counts of murder and one count each of illegal drug use, conspiracy and obstructing justice. He told the court that the killings were planned in late 2009, and that he and his comrades had conspired to plant weapons on the corpses to make the killings appear justified. Morlock admitted that he and his fellow-soldiers were killing people who were completely innocent. He said the murder plot was led by the unit’s leader, Staff Sgt Calvin Gibbs, who is also charged in the killings but who maintained the killings were justified.

These proceedings came two days after German magazine “Der Spiegel” published photographs showing US soldiers grinning over the corpses of Afghan civilians they had allegedly killed. In addition to Staff Sgt Gibbs, charged in the murders are Pte First Class Andrew Holmes, Spc Michael Wagnon and Spc Adam Winfield. Other soldiers are accused of dismembering the victims and collecting body parts in a grisly trophy hunt. The photos published by Der Spiegel were said to be among many seized by US Army investigators.

Morlock perhaps was typical of his generation, being brought up in uncertain times and having few options in terms of a job or prospects, given his underachieving school career. He was originally from Wasilla, Alaska, and he enlisted in 2006 after stopping his high school studies at 19 years of age. When he was training in boot camp, he was homesick and often became depressed. His condition deteriorated after his father’s death by drowning in 2007.

Two years later, while on combat duty in Afghanistan he suffered a concussion. There are letters to his mother, which indicate that he was not sleeping well and may have been traumatised. He was prescribed over ten different medications (including painkillers, anti-depressants, and sleeping pills), so the medical doctors treating him knew that something was seriously wrong. The big question at this stage is where is the duty of care shown to their patient by these doctors? Why wasn’t he sent home as he should have so that he could recover? He needed his family, and close to his mother he could perhaps have overcome his father’s death and put back together the broken pieces of his life.

Instead, Morlock stayed on in Afghanistan and began to become habituated to the local hashish, diagnosed by his doctors as cannabis dependence, PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder), post-concussive disorder, and a slew of other psychological disturbances. The soldier was still not sent home and he continued to serve actively in combat duty. Is it surprising that this young man with a multitude of psychological problems, heavily medicated and addicted to cannabis became involved in the plot to kill Afghan innocent civilians?

Who is the real guilty party here? Morlock or his doctors? Morlock or his military leaders? Morlock or the government that sent him thousands of kilometres away from home to fight an invisible and ever elusive enemy? Morlock’s brief was to kill terrorists and enemies of democracy. In the dark every cat is gray. In Morlock’s blackest hour is it surprising that every turban-wearing Afghan became a terrorist threat and easily accessible target to shoot at? In his hashish-addled mind was it so difficult to transform the heinous acts he was committing to glorious and heroic deeds? Perhaps he was a sad victim of circumstances, a pitiful casualty of the bewildering war he was sent to fight. Morlock committed acts of extreme barbarity and inhuman savagery. As a society we condemned him as we would a rational human being that committed these acts in full possession of his faculties. But was this a sane, rational man who possessed his faculties and thought through his actions?

The judges thought he was. Morlock admitted that he was aware that he and his comrades-in-arms were shooting innocent civilians. The brutality of the callous acts was magnified when every detail of the slaying was immortalised on video and film and the savage cries of triumph were recorded for posterity. In their minds, these soldiers were on a holy mission for their country, for democracy and freedom, fighting against terrorism and communism and everything un-American. The results of their actions were that some poor innocent Afghan wretches did not return to their family that night and their wives and children had to weep over their bloody and mutilated bodies.

What society can look at its actions and forgive itself the wrongs that it meted out to Morlock and his comrades? What society can forgive itself for the killings perpetrated by Morlock and every other soldier like Morlock on a phantom battlefield, fighting ghostly enemies, jousting at windmills because they viewed them as ogres? What society can forgive itself when it commits these acts of barbarity in the name of freedom and democracy? By what strange delusion can such a society masquerade cruel and calculated acts that serve its economy as idealistic and kind acts of liberation? The answer is the same society that absolves itself by sacrificing scapegoats like Morlock. The same society that creates monsters in order to send out posses to destroy them in self-righteous rage…

ONE WEDDING INVITATION NOT TO ACCEPT...

“The Wedding March always reminds me of the music played when soldiers go into battle.” - Heinrich Heine

Under sufferance, at the weekend, I sat through one of the worst movies I have seen recently. It was Gary Winick’s 2009 “Bride Wars”. This very definitely falls into the “chick flick” genre, and more specifically (I guess) the teenager market. I took one look at the synopsis on the back of the DVD and was certain I would not go for this film. However, one has to make concessions and I braced myself and watched it. In the end although none of the four of us watching it liked it particularly, the other man and I really disliked it, while our women companions were the ones giggling now and then (while we were rolling our eyes up at the ceiling!)…

The plot is formulaic and pulls every cliché out of the tattered bag of tricks in order to concoct the unlikely and ostensibly funny story. In New York’s Manhattan there are two childhood friends who have grown up to be a successful lawyer, Liv (Kate Hudson), and the underachieving schoolteacher, Emma (Anne Hathaway). They both have boyfriends and both are obsessed with marriage, having planned lavish weddings at the Plaza Hotel from their childhood when they were playing at being bride and groom in their attic. They are proposed to by their boyfriends on the same day, and as they always dreamed, they plan their wedding parties at the Plaza Hotel. They use the services of the most famous wedding planner, Marion St. Claire (Candice Bergen); who else would plan the perfect wedding? However, due to a mistake made by Marion’s secretary, their weddings are scheduled for the same day, at the same place at the same time. Neither of them wishes to negotiate and neither agrees to change the date of her wedding. From friends they become mortal enemies and for most of the film they keep trying to sabotage each other’s wedding preparations and the ceremony itself.

Unfortunately, the film is too contrived, the characters two-dimensional, the acting average and the jokes too sparse and too predictable. If you see the trailer, you’ve seen all the jokes, I think.  As is usual in these films there is a transformation and a happy end (of course), but it is all just so tedious! The production may be slick and the sets (especially the Plaza) lavish, however, at the end of it all I could think was “what a waste…” Waste of money, waste of actors, waste of production staff, waste of resources, but most of all waste of my time.

I was so intrigued by the film’s under-average performance that I googled it to see what the critics had to say. I was not surprised to find out that Mark Kermode (BBC’s film critic) found the film execrable. He nominated it as one of the worse films of 2009 and in fact, threatened that if this film was not one of the 10 worst films of 2009 he would quit film criticism! Fortunately, he was not wrong.

This film is not particularly challenging in terms of your attention span, not really funny, nor original. It is not a romantic comedy, not particularly successful as a film about friendship, nor is it a film that is memorable or one that I would recommend to someone to watch. It’s enough admitting here that I watched it. Maybe I should now consider joining “Terrible Film Watchers Anonymous”…

SCULPTURE AT HEIDE

“Sculpture is the best comment that a painter can make on painting.” - Pablo Picasso

It turned out to be a beautiful autumn day today. Sunny, mild and calm. We went out for a drive and after visiting a market we went to the Heide Art Gallery, but rather than confine ourselves to the interior and the exhibition of some rather freaky Albert Tucker Australian modernist paintings, we decided to spend the whole of the beautiful day on the grounds. It seems that many people had the same idea as there were visitors all over the place, people having picnics, tourists, families with children and elderly couples out for a stroll.

There is a huge range of sculptures on show on the grounds and one can find all sorts of styles, but largely the theme is modern art, with some outrageously cheeky pieces, as well as some horrific concoctions that make the wonderful art there even better. Nevertheless, as much as one enjoys the art, nature is the supreme artist on the grounds and every season one can find a number of blooms on show, as well as various fruits and magnificent trees, herbs, ground covers and wildflowers displayed in the way that only nature can.

One of the best places to start from is the kitchen garden, with its rows of seasonal vegetables, herbs and flowers, which offers not only a crop for the table, but also delights the senses with wonderful colours, forms, rich smells and delightful textures. Even in autumn this garden was beautiful and we enjoyed rambling around its paths and admiring the plethora of plants growing there. There were ripe figs (delicious as we sampled them), acorns, wild strawberries, rose hips, haws, seeds of every kind ripening on the spent flower stalks. There cleomes in bloom, geraniums and sage, mallows, jack-in-the-pulpit, late roses, callistemons, naked lady lilies, bachelors’ buttons, cyclamens, and many kinds of daisies and asters.

For Art Sunday, here is a sculpture from the Heide grounds. It is David Wilson’s “Small Sculpture for my Grandmother’s Vase”, created in 1990. David Wilson arrived in Australia in 1965 having studied painting at the Harrow School of Art in England. He completed his Associate Diploma in Sculpture from the National Gallery School, in Melbourne in 1970. Much of his earlier sculptural works were very much within the welded steel tradition often associated with the work of Anthony Caro. From the 1980s onwards, texture and later paint became key elements in his work. With a painter’s eye, he uses colour for constructing space and volume.

I like this particular sculpture as it is compact and reminds me of something familiar and homey, although one cannot quite say what it is exactly. It looks like a table, or maybe even a chair or a stool, a magazine rack, or a letterbox. At the same time it’s quite fluid, graceful, organic and almost floral in its arrangement. Truly something fit for a vase. It is pleasing and perfect for the garden setting it is in.

The artist has this to say about his sculptures:

“Much of the inspiration for both forms and colours comes from observations of landscape and skyscape, particularly the skies which I often photograph as a source material. The look of the sky seems to be one of our few remaining daily surroundings unblemished by human interference - it is distant, uncompromised, both innocent and indifferent – and it is these aspects of its character which make it so suitable a source for an artist who has become somewhat contemptuous of our culture’s preoccupation with itself. A kind of incest where humanity and its delusions are treated as the measure of all things. The look of the sky, shapes and colours, seems untouched and invulnerable to our conceits. I want my sculptures’ physical presence and painterly textured surfaces to seem to share that cited innocence and indifference, to be unequivocally ‘there’ and ‘here’, but apart, never really known except in the experiencing of them, alluding to things natural, without ever being able to be placed.”