CHINESE OPERA IN SINGAPORE

“I don't mind what language an opera is sung in so long as it is a language I don't understand.” - Edward Appleton

Singapore has a lively cultural scene with many events staged by both local and international artists. There is the renowned Singapore Symphony Orchestra, the Singapore Lyric Opera company, the Singapore Dance Theatre, theatre, numerous galleries, museums, artistic and cultural groups that reflect the multicultural community of this small but extremely successful Asian nation. One is constantly reminded of this mixed population by the signage, which is in the four official languages of English, Malay, Chinese (Mandarin), and Tamil. Singaporean culture is best described as a melting pot of mainly Chinese, British, Malay and Indian cultures - a reflection of its immigrant history.

Although the Western influence is still strong (remembering the British were here from 1819 till 1965), the Asian flavour of the culture is ineluctable and constantly reminds one that Singapore is a strongly Asian nation. Of its permanent residents (3.75 million), close to three quarters are Chinese, 13% are Malay and 10% Indian. However, it should be kept in in mind that Singapore has the sixth-highest percentage of foreigners globally, with about forty percent foreign nationals working and living here, bringing the population up to just over 5 million). This mix of people and cultures and cultures makes the country an interesting and vibrant place to be in, especially when looking at the cultural scene. The successful economy and subsidisation by the state of many artistic and cultural bodies ensures that art and culture receive strong government support.

As it is Song Saturday, I have chosen two clips of Chinese Opera, which is part of the Chinese cultural heritage that is alive and well in Singapore. Rather than being an entertainment that granny enjoys, Chinese Opera is also popular amongst the younger Chinese speaking people and represents a centuries-old tradition that still thrives wherever there are large Chinese populations. In Singapore there many live Chinese Opera performances staged, including many “street performances”, which literally bring art into peoples’ lives.

FOOD FRIDAY - TRAVEL FOOD

“Preach not to others what they should eat, but eat as becomes you, and be silent.” – Epictetus

We are travelling to Singapore where I have two work commitments, but I have also taken a couple of days off for relaxation. I always enjoy visiting Singapore as it is a compact country/city, which is very diverse and cosmopolitan, with a multitude of things to see and do. It is a vibrant place where things are always changing and new developments mushroom into existence seemingly overnight. Every time we visit we notice changes, new buildings, renovations, new services and widespread improvements throughout the city. The people are friendly, polite and nearly everyone speaks English well.

As it has been a period of travel, I shall blog about airline food. One of the advantages of travelling with our local airline Qantas is that I can use the Qantas Club, of which I am a member. This is a very handy lounge that members can use prior to travelling and where they can relax, snack on some food, have a drink and meet friends or colleagues. We were able to use the Business Lounge prior to travelling and this was a very peaceful and spacious place in which to begin our trip. An added bonus was a lunchtime snack by Neil Perry, on which we feasted. This was a plate composed of fried paper-thin pancetta, blanched asparagus with lemon oil and grated celeriac with seeded mustard dressing. It went very well with a Domaine Chandon sparkling wine. This was followed by some fried whitebait and French fries.

This little repast kept us going until we got on the plane. The food on planes can be a lucky dip. On this occasion, we had an Asian chicken dish with rice and steamed Chinese greens. It was quite tasty and spicily fragrant. The flight to Singapore form Melbourne is just over seven hours and the crew kept plying us with drinks, snacks, fruit and various other tidbits. Even if one is not hungry, one is tempted to nibble as it passes the time!

I would say that over the last ten years or so, airline food has deteriorated – at least in the Economy cabin. This is in terms of the food provided, the crockery and cutlery (which have degenerated to plastic!), as well as in terms of the service. I suppose that the airlines were hard hit when the oil price rose, but I remember with fondness the good old times, where some airlines had an excellent food service and even boasted a gourmet food offering even in the economy cabin. Business class still has an excellent dinner service, and I suspect even more so in first.

At the Hotel we have a Club Room, which once again allows us to have breakfast there, enjoy all day beverages and snacks, and evening cocktails and hors d’oeuvres. It is worth using this type of facility as it can give one a feeling of a home away form home. Always something to look forward too after a busy day working or sightseeing.

CHANGE

“All is flowing, ever in a state of flux. Change alone is unchanging.” – Heraclitus of Ephesus

The world is changing rapidly all around us at a terrifying pace. Regimes that are decades old tumble as revolutionaries rally in the streets; economies that once were the strongest in the world fail; once underdeveloped countries are now becoming dominant powers worldwide; people struggle to cope with the unleashed fury of the elements as climate variation seems to threaten our lifestyle, our cities, our environment. News of disasters from all over the world seem to underline the changing conditions of our existence and many people are terrified of all the change that is happening all around them.

When we first moved to Australia, the currency had changed from the old imperial pounds/shillings/pence system to the decimal dollars/cents system. I was fascinated to learn that an elderly lady had committed suicide because she could not cope with such a drastic change. The story of the old woman who killed herself because she could not cope with change amused me and repelled me, captivated my interest and my young mind attempted to understand it. I, of course, was no stranger to change, having just moved house all the way around the world and having to cope with a new language, new friends, new house, new language, new customs… A change of currency seemed such a piddly matter!

Change frightens most people. It forces them to move out of their comfort zone and they have to cope with new situations that challenge them in a multiplicity of ways. Routine bores us, but it provides such a security blanket for us that only when the routine is disrupted do we realise how comfortable its humdrum monotone is. We are lulled by habit, comforted by the schedule of our ordinary life, able to function with predetermined steps in procedures that are well rehearsed. No wonder change makes feel uncomfortable.

Libya is following in the steps of Egypt and the populace has risen up to demand its freedom and self-determination. The old regime holds onto power with carious tooth and bitten, cracked nail. The impassioned diatribe of the despot screaming at the people through the mass media has the appeal of a broken record stuck on a groove, repeating threat upon threat. The echoes of gunfire punctuate the violent words, as violent deeds cause innocent blood to be spilt on soil that both sides call “homeland”.

This was a change that was long time coming. The world is poised on the cusp of an enormous social transformation, which seems to mirror the environmental changes around us. Our politics, our economy, our environment, every aspect of our existence will be transformed. In five years time we shall look back and be confronted by a foreign world that we shall remember and feel… What shall we feel? Nostalgia? Fear? Relief? Regret? Sorrow? Happiness? Maybe all of these. It will depend on who you were and you are; where you lived and where you live; what you had and what you have.

change | ch ānj| verb
1 Make or become different: [ trans. ] A proposal to change the law| [ intrans. ] A Virginia creeper just beginning to change from green to gold.
• Make or become a different substance entirely; transform: [ trans. ] Filters change the ammonia into nitrate [ intrans. ] Computer graphics can show cars changing into cheetahs.
• [ intrans. ] Alter in terms of: The ferns began to change shape.
• [ intrans. ] (of traffic lights) Move from one color of signal to another.
• (of a boy's voice) Become deeper with the onset of puberty.
• [ intrans. ] (of the moon) Arrive at a fresh phase; become new.
2 [ trans. ] Take or use another instead of: She decided to change her name.
• Move from one to another: She changed jobs incessantly | Change sides.
• Exchange; trade: The sun and moon changed places.
• [ intrans. ] Move to a different train, airplane, or subway line.
• Give up (something) in exchange for something else: We changed the shades for vertical blinds.
• Remove (something dirty or faulty) and replace it with another of the same kind : Change a light bulb.
• Put a clean nappy on (a baby or young child).
• Engage a different gear in a motor vehicle: [ trans. ] Wait for a gap and then change gears | figurative With business concluded, the convention changes gear and a gigantic circus takes over the town.
• Exchange (a sum of money) for the same amount in smaller denominations or in coins, or for different currency.
• [ intrans. ] Put different clothes on: He changed for dinner.
PHRASAL VERBS
Change over Move from one system or situation to another: Crop farmers have to change over to dairy farming.
DERIVATIVES
changeful |ˈ ch ānjfəl| adjective
ORIGIN Middle English: from Old French change (noun), changer (verb), from late Latin cambiare, from Latin cambire ‘barter,’ probably of Celtic origin.

MY LIFE'S TWO SIDES

“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” - Henry David Thoreau

I was mining my archives again this evening looking through old notebooks, yellowing paper, loose pages. You know you’re ageing when the dates on old journals are those of the last century and the paper is starting to yellow. A poem I wrote now rediscovered as composed a long time ago during an “interesting” time of my life where youthful exuberance had already started giving way to more grounded maturity and when experiences (dearly paid for) had already started to colour indelibly my persona.

My Life’s Two Sides

My life is a lost city, hidden to all by the vast desert;
As sandstorms raised by relentless winds lash sand grains
Against the sharp rocks, wearing them down,
Travellers lose their way on duplicitous paths.
My life is a sand grain, raised by the wind
Whirling, falling, mixing with millions of others;
A single grain of sand, identical with all the rest,
Lost as it is, indistinguishable amongst others in the sand dunes.

My life is the lonely man walking along deserted streets
Of city drenched by storms and pelting winter rain.
The road, the man, the rain, all alone
Under downpour and leaden skies, with freezing cold inside and out.
My life a drop of rain, falling with all the others,
Indistinguishable from the rest, cascading down,
Splashing into the gutter, mixing with the roiling current
Lost, no longer pure rain, but now only muddy water flowing away.

My life is the carpet of wildflowers sprouting amongst
The graves of an old, disused cemetery, forgotten by all.
The wild gush of blooming energy, of vitality and zest
Next to the lifeless graves, amongst cold headstones and ancient marble.
My life a single bloom plucked, and already withering, fading,
As desecrating hand lets it carelessly fall to the ground.
Amongst the thousands of others, still in their prime, alive
Who’ll even notice that single dying blossom?

My life a greenwood tree, bursting with verdant juices,
The green of Spring an untold hope and energy,
Its branches home to singing birds, butterflies, bees;
A microcosm or a macrocosm depending on your point of view.
My life an autumn leaf amongst all others, yellow, dead, falling
As the first rains rush down and take it to the ground with hundreds more.
A single leaf, indistinguishable from the thousands of others, fallen,
My life a dead leaf, insignificant, desolate like so many of its brothers.

NEW ZEALAND - EARTHQUAKE AGAIN!

“Public calamity is a mighty leveller” - Edmund Burke

The terrible news of the New Zealand earthquake caught me on the road. Yet another forceful earthquake has hit Christchurch, which only barely recovered from the September 2010 quake. This morning a destructive 6.3-magnitude earthquake caused mayhem and devastation in the already ravaged city. GNS Science says the 6.3 magnitude quake struck 20 km southeast of Christchurch, at a depth of 5 km. Two more aftershocks were subsequently felt.  A 5.6-magnitude aftershock hit Diamond Harbour, which is 20km south-east of Christchurch at 1.21pm. The quake was centered at a depth of 5km. The second aftershock was a 5.5-magnitude quake centered at a depth of 5km in Lyttleton.

Unfortunately, this time scores of fatalities have been reported at several locations in the centre of the city with one person confirmed dead in the suburb of Sumner. Witnesses have also reported watching horrified as were people crushed by falling buildings. Two buses have been crushed and the cathedral spire was completely destroyed. About 20 people are reported trapped in high rise building and firefighters are desperately trying to rescue survivors trapped by debris. All airports and airspace in New Zealand have been shut down. Police have called in the defence forces to help evacuate trapped residents and the entire CBD.

The survivors were panicking, crying and shouting while trying to avoid the debris, the cracks in the ground and the clouds of dust, the fires, the gushing water from damaged pipes. The city still raw from last year’s earthquake is once again experiencing the might of Enceladus and we know that some of the survivors were not so lucky this time round. Many eyewitnesses have described the horror and it once again highlights how the might of nature can overwhelm us and reduce us to powerless puppets that can be crushed in the hands of an angry puppetmaster.

Unlike the previous earthquake last year, this tremor caused such a heavy toll as it occurred at lunchtime when Christchurch was at its busiest. The mayor of New Zealand’s second-biggest city says at least 200 people are believed trapped under rubble. Immediately after the tremor, people could be seen wandering the rubble-strewn streets in distress.Police said that among the dead were people on two buses which had been crushed by falling buildings. Officials said up to 30 people were feared still trapped inside the Pyne Gould Guinness building, where screams have been heard from beneath the wreckage. Power and telephone lines were knocked out, and pipes burst, flooding the streets with water. The suburbs of Lyttleton and New Brighton are reportedly “unliveable”.

Many of our staff are New Zealanders or have family there and it is inevitable that they will have been affected, some in a very immediate and personal way. It was good to hear that our Prime Minister immediately pledged Australia’s support and help during this terrible time. I have visited Christchurch several times and it was one of my favourite New Zealand cities. The 300,000 strong city was a picture of serenity and elegance with its wonderful people full of joie-de-vivre and friendliness. That is has now been reduced to this devastated, warzone-like appearance is unthinkable. To think that 65 people are already confirmed dead and that unfortunately more are to be discovered is terrible…

MOVIE MONDAY - MOON

 

“Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.” - Mark Twain

We watched the 2009 Duncan Jones science fiction film “Moon”. This was more of a psychological thriller, rather than a “shoot-‘em-up” laser beam warfare type of adventure space epic. Although the story (which Jones wrote) was original, the film paid tribute to the classic 1968 Stanley Kubrick science fiction film “2001 – A Space Odyssey”. There were enough references there to evoke smiles of recognition and acknowledgement. The main similarity is in the computer that the hero of the film in each case develops a relationship with. The sinister Hal in “2001 – A Space Odyssey” is paralleled by the more benign Gerty in “Moon”.

The film (like any good science fiction) raises important moral and ethical questions. In this case (and without wanting to give anything away in case you haven’t seen it), it is the question of what makes an individual and individual? How do we know we are ourselves? A fundamental existentialist question, which is explored by this thoughtful film, which also looks at the price of our comfort and progress. Where do we stop? How many sacrifices must we make in order to maintain our lifestyle? Do the collective benefits and rights of a society outweigh the rights of an individual?

The plot concerns itself with a time in the near future where the world’s energy problems have been solved through mining for helium-3, which is carried out in a semi-automated manner on the dark side of the moon. The lunar base is looked after by astronauts from earth who do their three-year stint and then go back home. Sam Bell is the film’s hero and we see him anticipating his return to earth in a couple of weeks to join his wife and young daughter. There is no direct communication link available between the lunar station and Earth, so his only direct real-time interaction is with GERTY, the intelligent computer whose function is to attend to his day to day needs. He becomes aware that he is beginning to hallucinate as the end of his three years approaches. Just when all was going according to plan, he has an accident at one of the mechanical harvesters and is rendered unconscious. His personal odyssey then begins…

Sam Rockwell who plays Sam was given an opportunity to showcase his acting talents and he has done much with what is essentially a solo performance that carries the whole film. We enjoyed this film and would recommend it to both science fiction buffs as well as those who do not normally enjoy science fiction. Perhaps the latter more than the former.

HONORÉ DAUMIER

“Promise yourself to live your life as a revolution and not just a process of evolution.” - Anthony J. D'Angelo

It is the anniversary of the birth of Honoré Daumier, (1808-79). He was a French caricaturist, painter, and sculptor, who in his lifetime was known chiefly as a political and social satirist, but since his death recognition of his qualities as a painter has grown. Daumier’s paintings were probably done mainly fairly late in his career. Although he was accepted four times by the Salon, he never exhibited his paintings otherwise and they remained practically unknown up to the time of an exhibition held at Durand-Ruel’s gallery in 1878, close to his death.

The paintings are in the main a documentation of contemporary life and manners with satirical overtones, although he also did a number featuring Don Quixote as a larger-than-life hero. His technique was remarkably broad and free. As a sculptor he specialized in caricature heads and figures, and these too are in a very spontaneous style. In particular he created the memorable figure of “Ratapoil” (meaning `skinned rat'), who embodied the sinister agents of the government of Louis-Philippe. A similar political type in his graphic art was “Robert Macaire”, who personified the unscrupulous profiteer and swindler.

In the directness of his vision and the lack of sentimentality with which he depicts current social life Daumier belongs to the Realist school of which Courbet was the chief representative. As a caricaturist he stands head and shoulders above all others of the 19th-century. He had the gift of expressing the whole character of a man through physiognomy, and the essence of his satire lay in his power to interpret mental folly in terms of physical absurdity. Although he never made a commercial success of his art, he was appreciated by the discriminating and numbered among his friends and admirers Delacroix, Corot, Forain, and Baudelaire. Degas was among the artists who collected his works. 

Here we see one of his iconic paintings, “The Uprising” (ca 1860). The work is oil on canvas, 87.6 x 113 cm, and to be found in Phillips Collection, Washington D.C, United States of America. It is characterised by Daumier’s revolutionary politics and typifies the social commentary that his oeuvre displays. Daumier was the artist of the lower classes, the malcontents and the underprivileged. The artist has chosen to depict a public uprising, with masses of people marching in the streets. A charismatic figure, spotlit as it were, leads the crowd and his hand is raised in defiance. His open white shirt and determined face, chanting some slogan of rebellion is captured with a directness and immediacy that places the viewer in the thick of things. It is reportage in painting, as well as art as propaganda…

AMÁLIA RODRIGUES

“Is there anything better than to be longing for something, when you know it is within reach?” - Greta Garbo

Another busy week that was quite tiring and on some occasions stressful. Thankfully today was a day of rest and relaxation. We went shopping this morning, followed by a visit to the library. It’s always good to visit the library, and today it seems that many people had the same idea. The weather may have helped as it was hot and quite muggy. Libraries are always cool an air-conditioned! This evening dinner out and a wonderful time just enjoying intimate company.

For Song Saturday today, a singer that was a favourite of my grandmother, my mother and now of myself! She is the famous Portuguese Fado singer, Amália Rodrigues (1920-1999). She had a brilliant 40-year international career and her velvet voice was perfectly suited to the Portuguese “blues” of the fado – a passionate, mournful and emotional style of music. This music is usually linked to the Portuguese word “saudade” which symbolises the feeling of loss (a permanent, irreparable loss and its consequent life-lasting damage).

This song, “Coimbra” was written in the 1930’s, with music by Raul Ferrao and lyrics by José Galhardo, but more widely known as “April in Portugal”. Coimbra is a city in Portugal on the Mondego River about 100 miles north of Lisbon. It is also the seat of an old university, and the original lyrics of this romantic song are such an odd, incomprehensible allusion to student life that one can hardly imagine that anybody wrote them with any expectation that the song would become world-famous. It did indeed achieve fame, though, with new title and new lyrics in English, French and other languages. Choupal is a district along the Mondego, and Inês was the heroine of a medieval drama.

COIMBRA (Original Portuguese Lyrics)

Coimbra do Choupal,
Ainda és capital
De amor em Portugal,
Ainda és capital.

Coimbra, onde uma vez
Com lágrimas se fez
A história dessa Inês taõ linda

Coimbra das canções
Taõ meigas que nos pões
Os nossos corações à luz.
Coimbra dos doctores,
Pra nós os seus cantores
A fonte de amor és tu.

Coimbra e uma liçaõ de sonho e tradiçaõ.
O lente e uma cançaõ e a lua a faculdade.
O livro é uma mulher só passa quem souber
E aprende-se a dizer saudade.

COIMBRA (Literal English Translation)

Coimbra of the Choupal,
You are still capital
Of love in Portugal,
You are still capital.

Coimbra, where once upon a time
The tearful story of the lovely Inês
Took place…

Coimbra of the songs
So tender that you turn
Our hearts to the light.
Coimbra of the professors,
For us, your singers,
The fount of love you are.

Coimbra is a lesson of dreams and tradition.
The lens is a song and the moon is the faculty.
The book is a lady. Whoever just passes knows
And learns to say ‘longing’.

TARRAGON

“Strong and bitter words indicate a weak cause.” - Victor Hugo

Tarragon, Artemisia dracunculus, is the birthday plant for this day.  It is named after Artemis, ancient Greek goddess of the hunt and of the moon.  The specific name is the Latin term for “little dragon”, alluding to the medicinal use of the plant for treating the bites of all sorts of venomous creatures.  Tarragon has been in culinary use for many hundreds of years, especially in France where it is an essential ingredient of French mustard, tarragon vinegar and the chicken dish known as poulet à l’ estragon.  To make tarragon vinegar, pick the young leaves of the plant, cover them with white wine vinegar and leave them to macerate for a few days. Strain the vinegar and rebottle.  The tarragon plant symbolises “strong and bitter words said in order to fan the flames of love”.  It is under the astrological dominion of Mars.

Here is Jacqueline Kennedy’s recipe for Poulet à l’ Estragon

Poulet à l’ Estragon
Ingredients
1.4 kg chicken parts (can use whole chicken)
50 g flour
salt & pepper
100 g butter, for browning (may need more)
2-3 shallots, finely chopped
120 ml chicken stock
120 ml dry white wine
1 bay leaf
1 sprig thyme
2 parsley sprigs
1 tablespoon dried tarragon or 1 bunch fresh tarragon
250 ml light cream
100 g parmesan cheese, grated
fresh tarragon leaves, to garnish (optional)

Method
•    Season the flour with salt and pepper to taste and coat the chicken; reserve the flour not used for making the sauce later.
•    Brown the chicken in some butter and sprinkle the shallots over the chicken, simmering for a few minutes.
•    Add the chicken stock, wine, bay leaf, thyme, parsley and tarragon; cover and simmer chicken parts for about 25 minutes, if using whole chicken, simmer about 45 minutes or until tender, turning frequently.
•    Remove from pan and keep hot.
•    To the pan juices add the cream and grated cheese, and any flour not used in coating the chicken.
•    Simmer over low heat until sauce is thick.
•    Strain sauce over the chicken and garnish with tarragon leaves.

THE UGLY TRAVELLER

“Seest thou a man wise in his own conceit? There is more hope of a fool than of him.” - Proverbs 26:12

While travelling I was once again painfully aware of some people that do not make good travellers. Most of the fellow passengers I meet on my travels are decent and considerate, they are respectful of the other people around them and generally make the trip an easy one, However, every now and then, one meets the “traveller from hell” that makes the trip a nightmare. You know the one: Loud, obnoxious, selfish, inconsiderate, oafish and rude. This sort of traveller can ruin the whole trip, not only for you, but for a large number of other people too.

I pity the flight attendants who have to deal with this type of traveller on a regular basis, whereas I can always say to myself: “This too shall pass, I shall soon be home and be rid of this nuisance!” On this recent trip, there was one these travellers sitting two rows behind me and the whole plane was aware of his presence. A very loud voice that proclaimed inanity upon inanity, a raucous laugh (at his own jokes – not amusing) and an attitude towards the flight attendants that verged on insult. Their professionalism and patience when dealing with this person amazed me.

My observations were timely as in the news in this evening’s paper there was a report of a similar incident on a flight from LA to Sydney where one Brian McFadden was apparently involved in an unfortunate “bad traveller” incident. I had to look up who this person was, even though the article assured me of his fame. Apparently he is a singer, talent show judge and Delta Goodrem’s fiancé (the significance of all these things was once again lost on me, but I admit I lead a sheltered life). Allegedly, the “star” was drunk, abusive, disruptive and also smoked on board the jet, running from his business class section into the economy cabin and having to be restrained by fellow traveller (and equally famous) Kyle Sandilands (who is an Australian radio and TV personality, I am advised).

The “stars” denied the allegations and although Australian Federal Police were on standby when the delayed flight landed in Sydney, the pair were released as the airline did not press charges. Twitter entries by McFadden and Goodrem sprang into damage control mode and remarks by McFadden about his “favourite airline V Australia” and the “very nice Virgin staff” hints at an “agreement” having been reached before the plane landed.

Fame does strange things to people and oh, so many of them assume a god-like attitude that is offensive and ridiculous at the same time. One is tempted to laugh if it weren’t so annoying and insulting to the “ordinary people” like us. Young sportspeople are some of the worse offenders and their shenanigans are the embarrassment of their coaches, their sporting clubs and their families. Their doting fans seem to be unfazed and they will forgive them anything, something that fuels further their self-importance and lengthens the list of their misdemeanours. As far as actors go, well, let’s not go there. I think the latest nonsense that Charlie Sheen has been guilty of, is a good example of silliness magnified by fame.

RAIN, RAIN, RAIN!

“Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.” - Langston Hughes

I was in Adelaide for the day for work today and it was a beautiful day weather-wise, although I saw remarkably little of it, being ensconced in meeting rooms all day. It was a full day as we were being audited and the panel was an interesting mix of people. There was one slightly problematic member, but he made the discussions lively and interesting. The good thing was that all went well and we passed the audit.

As soon as the plane landed in Melbourne on my return, the rain started to pelt down and we had very significant falls last night, with some flash flooding again in some parts of Melbourne. The climate has been subtropical this summer and the warm humid conditions have affected all sorts of things, including the vegetation, crops, insect numbers, infrastructure, people’s ability to carry on with normal activities, get to work, etc. The flash flooding in even some of the metropolitan areas has seriously disrupted everyday life and has caused lots of damage.

Climate variation is something that occurs routinely and we have to learn to not only live with it, but also be more proactive in planning for this variation. Changing the way that we construct our dwellings, being more prudent when choosing the geographical locations where we develop our housing and being more aware of sustainable and environmentally-friendly ways of utilising the technology available so that we work with climate variation pro-actively, rather than reactively.

Climate variation will almost certainly affect not only the ways that we produce our food, but also may fundamentally change the very components of our diet. Already there is much talk of utlising non-standard, but highly nutritious, food sources such as earthworms and insects for example. Most people would find these items revolting if they are on a menu, but the less prejudiced and more open-minded children that were given food prepared from such sources were delighted with these meals.

Nevertheless, last night I enjoyed the sound of the rain falling and once again felt fortunate to be safe, warm and dry in our home. That is a luxury that many humans on this earth do not have.

Quite apt this choice today, then, for Poetry Wednesday:

Rain In Summer

How beautiful is the rain!
After the dust and heat,
In the broad and fiery street,
In the narrow lane,
How beautiful is the rain!

How it clatters along the roofs
Like the tramp of hoofs!
How it gushes and struggles out
From the throat of the overflowing spout!

Across the window-pane
It pours and pours;
And swift and wide,
With a muddy tide,
Like a river down the gutter roars
The rain, the welcome rain!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

LUPERCALIA

“There has to be evil so that good can prove its purity above it.” – Gautama Buddha

Today is the day that the Lupercalia was celebrated in ancient Rome. However, even the Romans of the first century were at a loss to explain exactly which deity or deities were being honoured on this day! It was an ancient observance, that survived from the days when Rome was nothing more than a few shepherds’ huts on a hill known as Palatine and was surrounded by forested wilderness teeming with wolves (lupus = ‘wolf’ in Latin). The derivation of the term ‘Lupercalia’ makes sense for a festival that was connected with a settlement of shepherds, whose most feared predator was the wolf.

Lupercus, protector of flocks against wolves, is a likely candidate deity honoured on this day. Other scholars favour Faunus, the god of agriculture and shepherds. Others still, suggest it was Rumina, the goddess whose temple stood near the fig tree under which the she-wolf suckled Romulus and Remus.  There is no question about the importance of the Lupercalia, with official records indicating that Mark Antony was master of the Luperci College of Priests. He chose the Lupercalia festival of the year 44 BC as the proper time to offer the crown to Julius Caesar.

Dionysius of Halicarnassus tells us that in his day (first century BC), an ancient hut, made out of sticks and reeds, stood on the slope of the Palatine Hill towards the Circus Maximus. This hut was honoured as a sacred place and was kept in good repair. Modern archaeology has discovered the post-holes of huts dating to the eighth century BC (the traditional date of Rome’s foundation was 753 BC). The association of wolves with Rome is also highlighted by the legend of Romulus and Remus, the twin founders of Rome, who were abandoned in a forest by a usurper to the throne and suckled by a she-wolf, only to grow and take their rightful kingship of Rome.

In general, the Romans viewed the Lupercalia as a purification and fertility rite. The ritual involved the sacrifice of goats and a dog in the Lupercal (sacred cave at the foot of the Palatine to honour the she-wolf who suckled Romulus and Remus) by priests called Luperci, who smeared the foreheads of two noble young men with the blood of the sacrificed animals and then wiped it off. At this point, the youths were required to laugh. The luperci, clothed in loincloths, then ran about the area, lashing everyone they met with strips of skin from the sacrificed goats. Young wives were particularly eager to receive these blows, because it was believed that the ritual promoted fertility and easy childbirth. These ceremonies were accompanied by much revelry and drinking. Valentines’ Day is probably a continuation of the fertility aspect of the Lupercalia.

The Lupercalia was so popular that it survived the onset of Christianity, but in a different form. In 494 AD, the Pope made February 15 the feast of the Purification of the Virgin Mary, thus perpetuating the festival and preserving the purification aspect of the ancient holiday. This of course has occurred with many other pagan feasts and festivals which have been syncretised with the Christian tradition.

MOVIE MONDAY - THE SINGER

“Who, being loved, is poor?” - Oscar Wilde

Happy Valentines’ Day!

If you are into celebrating it, that is… Nearly everyone I know is not impressed with this observance and it seems that the older one gets, the more crotchety about poor old Valentine one is. It must say something about my immediate circle, mustn’t it? Well, even to me Valentines’s Day does reek of pubescent exuberance or fumbling attempts at romance by jejune first time lovers. It was disconcerting on the train to see scores of young women in their late teens and early twenties carrying sad and wilting flowers – single red roses were popular – dutifully delivered to their workplace by the obligatory boyfriend. They were being carried like precious booty, the spoils of some battle won. A pyrrhic victory, perhaps…

To me Valentines’ Day is every day. If two people love each other there are a multitude of ways to demonstrate it to each other every moment. An unexpected hand-written note, a gentle caress, a phone call for no reason, a gift on no occasion, an email just to say ‘I care about you’. A shoulder to lean on or to cry on, as is needed. A hug, a shared laugh, a reliance on each other. An ally in difficult times, a friend to share all the good times with. Someone to rejoice with when things all go right and to feel that you can share all with, the good and the bad.

We watched a couple of movies at the weekend, but I’ll choose something apt for the day, although it is apt in an offbeat kind of way. It was a French movie starring the irrepressible Gérard Depardieu and the gorgeous Cécile de France. That’s as French as you can get, I guess! It was the 2006 movie “Quand j’ Étais Chanteur” (“The Singer”), written and directed by Xavier Giannoli. For lovers of French croon-tunes, this is the movie for you! It is an offbeat romantic comedy of the Winter/Spring variety. He is old and experienced; she is young and vulnerable, he is love with her, she sees him with fascination; he is prepared to do everything for her, she vacillates. It’s more romantic than comedic, perhaps even quite tragic…

Gérard Depardieu plays Alain Moreau, an ageing “has-been” singer, who still sings for his supper in a dance hall, where the more second rate champagne that is sold the more commission he gets. He is managed by an old flame of his Michèle (charmingly played by the winsome Christine Citti), who although still in love with him is getting ready to marry his best friend, Bruno. Marion, a young seemingly unattached woman comes into Alain’s life one night, at Alain’s dance hall. They end up sleeping with each other, but Marion abandons him in the morning, deeply embarrassed. He is hurt and tries to win her, while all the while trying to deal with his insecurities, his growing loneliness, his awareness of his middle age, his fading singing popularity, his failing voice.

It is a charming little film, not great, not earth-shaking, with no surprises, and yet it is quite honest and frank and deals with its subject matter with sensitivity. It’s a quiet, easy-going film that will please most people of my vintage who have a little romantic bone in them, even though they may think that single red Valentine roses are a little jejune…

Depardieu sings quite a lot of French hit songs, with a smattering of Spanish and Italian ones thrown in for good measure. However, there is one song, which is of special significance to him as he discovers the depths of his feelings for Marion, but which he doesn’t sing. Instead, he plays it on an old jukebox that he has in home (he also has a little pet goat that runs around the lounge room, but I won’t dwell on that!). The song is Bobby Solo’s “Una Lacrima Sul Viso” - here is that song:



Da una lacrima sul viso
Ho capito molte cose
Dopo tanti tanti mesi ora so
Cosa sono per te.
Uno sguardo e un sorriso
M’ han svelato il tuo segreto
Che sei stata innamorata di me
Ed ancora I lo sei…

From a teardrop on your face
I understood so much;
After so many months, only now do I know
What I mean to you.
A glance and a smile
Revealed your secret to me:
That you were in love with me
And now I know it…

GOOGLE ART

“Love must be as much a light, as it is a flame.” - Henry David Thoreau

Google is a big company that has become very successful on the back of the net revolution. It is innovative and ground-breaking in many areas and can be very influential. Sure enough, the bottom line is profit, but Google also has lots of nice freebies and it appears that it has a social conscience as well. It hosts Blogger, for example, and here I am using it and being grateful for this blog hosting service. As well as that there are various other projects of scientific or artistic merit.

For example, the Google Earth project is a geographer’s dream come true and this is now being used by all sorts of other enquiring minds for study and discovery. For example, there are many arm-chair archaeologists that are viewing Google Earth sites and making discoveries from the comfort of their own living room. The case of the Australian archaeologist who made some interesting archaeological discoveries in Saudi Arabia through Google Earth was recently reported.

The amazing Body Browser (you need the Google Chrome Beta browser to view this!) is a fantastic anatomical tool that will delight, educate and make the life of many an anatomy student easier. It presents a body, which can be electronically “dissected” layer by layer, organ system by organ system, rotated and magnified, labelled and viewed in all sorts of anatomical views. It’s a complete anatomical atlas and it’s free! This is an amazing resource that will no doubt find use in educational settings, but also it a wonderful tool for the artist.

Google has now embarked on a wonderful new venture, which is called the Google Art Project. This consists of a collaboration between Google and 17 of the world’s top art galleries and museums, to give you a “Street-view” type of approach to the world’s most famous art. You can view 1,061 magnificent artworks, but there are also 17 special “gigapixel images” – one image for each participating institution’s most treasured piece, allowing viewers to zoom right in to brush-stroke level of detail. Over the past 18 months, a Google team has been going around museums like Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam and the Palace of Versailles using trolley mounted cameras to photograph corridors and galleries. Users can explore each gallery from room to room and create their own collections of masterpieces.

Here is how it was done:



The 17 participating museums and galleries are:
Alte Nationalgalerie, Berlin - Germany
Freer Gallery of Art, Smithsonian, Washington DC - USA
The Frick Collection, NYC - USA
Gemäldegalerie, Berlin - Germany
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, NYC - USA
MoMA, The Museum of Modern Art, NYC - USA
Museo Reina Sofia, Madrid - Spain
Museo Thyssen - Bornemisza, Madrid - Spain
Museum Kampa, Prague - Czech Republic
National Gallery, London - UK
Palace of Versailles - France
Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam - The Netherlands
The State Hermitage Museum, St Petersburg - Russia
State Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow - Russia
Tate Britain, London - UK
Uffizi Gallery, Florence - Italy
Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam - The Netherlands

Here is Sandro Botticelli’s “The Birth of Venus” like you’ve never seen it before! You can zoom in and see every little brushstroke and crack in the paint, every nuance of colour and every touch of the master artist’s creative trail. It is an example of the “gigapixel” data paintings and gives an amazing insight into this remarkably beautiful work (see detail above).

BACH BLASPHEMY...?

“I have my own particular sorrows, loves, delights; and you have yours. But sorrow, gladness, yearning, hope, love, belong to all of us, in all times and in all places. Music is the only means whereby we feel these emotions in their universality.” - H.A. Overstreet

A routine Saturday, with the usual chores to do, shopping, some gardening. But at least a beautiful evening with an outing, a nice dinner, and quiet time for relaxation…

For Song Saturday today, something that will make the purists cringe, but I’m sure something that the more open-minded amongst us will appreciate. Bach would have liked it, I think!

Here is French songstress, Mauranne, singing “Sur un Prélude de Bach”.



Do you like it?

PUB FARE

“My favorite animal is steak.” - Fran Lebowitz

Another very busy day at work today, in which I achieved lots, at least. I just wish that all people would work together as a team – it’s enough to have a bad apple to make the whole crate go off. I really don’t understand the sort of person who is nasty and mean for no reason at all. If personal gain is involved, I would understand it, but to be bad just for the sake of being unpleasant or malicious is beyond me. Fortunately, I have the support of my staff and I have enough patience to deal with this person in a calm and conciliatory manner – for whatever it’s worth…

We presently have a group of Korean medical students visiting our College and they are doing a Summer short course with us. They are greatly enjoying it and are a very vivacious, fun-loving group. The professor who has come with them is also a very friendly and outgoing woman and today we had another two members of their staff join us. I took them all to lunch with members of our own staff and after asking them where they would like to go, what type of cuisine they wanted to sample (this being the very cosmopolitan Melbourne with an embarrassing richness of choices), we all went to a typical pub and we enjoyed a typical pub lunch. This the overseas guests also enjoyed greatly.

Melbourne pubs are omnipresent and vary greatly in terms of atmosphere, décor, cuisine, pricing and ambience. Everyone has a favourite one or two, and while they all mainly serve alcohol at a bar, they all also serve meals. The arrangement is more or less the same – one is seated, looks at the menu, selects their meal and then goes and orders, pays and the meal is served at the table. The quality of food and the service varies greatly, but pub fare is generally very similar, with most popular pubs having standard, popular meals like spaghetti carbonara, veal parmigiana, oysters Kilpatrick, Caesar salad, steaks of all persuasions, fish and chips and other such old favourites.

Some pubs are more trendy and they do some vegetarian meals, Thai food, Chinese cuisine, or “fusion”. The prices of Pub meals are generally quite reasonable except in the very trendy ones (pubs with a superiority complex) that are found in the more “aristocratic” suburbs. I have never enjoyed an outing in one of these “uppity” pubs and the food is pretentious and expensive – not good value for money at all. The wine is also quite expensive in these pubs (not to mention the clientele, which can be a little challenging as well!).

Today, we lunched at the Lion Hotel in the Melbourne Central Shopping Centre in the heart of the City. This is an average pub located in the upper level of the shopping centre and is in “faux” old English pub style. It is quite enormous and tends to be rather busy most of the time. There are many bars and lounges and eating areas, but the nook that we usually frequent is a private room called “The Library” which is in the back of the pub. It is a relatively small room that will fit about a dozen people at the most, all sitting around a big rectangular refectory table with bench seats along its three sides. It is decorated like a library with shelves and books and curios in cabinets, old prints on the wall and looks quite homey and “old-world”.

Our Koreans loved the ambience and atmosphere and were most impressed with this unexpected place on the top floor of a modern shopping centre in the heart of the bustling city centre with skyscrapers all around. We had typical pub fare, with some choosing traditional beer-battered fish and chips, others an expanded version of the other standard BLT (bacon lettuce and tomato) sandwich, others fyllo pastry vegetarian parcels and some choosing the Cajun-style chicken. We drank some beer and once again our guests were very pleased. I was pleased also as the expense account did not have too big a dint in it afterwards!

A pub that we sometimes go to closer to home if we want a typical night out (Sundays are usually good) is the “Old England Hotel” in Heidelberg, about a 10 minute drive away from our house. This is a slightly up-market version of a typical pub, but at the same time it is not pretentious. The food is reliably good and reasonably priced with the service average. It’s an easy solution to going out somewhere without fuss or need to dress up for when we are not in the mood for cooking (it doesn’t happen often, but it’s good to have this choice).

Another pub that is reliably good is the Railway Club Hotel, in Port Melbourne. This serves great steaks so when we are feeling carnivorous (that also doesn’t happen too often!), we go there for a very nice steak dinner. One can inspect the choice of meats in the glass fronted fridge and select the cut of steak they like (or for the squeamish like us, we leave it up to the chef!).

CONTACT

“The surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that it has never tried to contact us.” - Bill Watterson

A very busy day at work today, with hardly any time to sit back and have a quiet moment! We are working on so many urgent and critical projects at once that it’s really quite amazing that we are managing to carry on as normal with the routine day-to-day activities also. The good thing today at least was that I managed to catch up with three old friends (sure enough one was on the phone, one was on Skype and one on Messenger) and even though the conversations were short, it felt good to say “hello, how are you, how are things?”. Nowadays of course we don’t have any excuse for not keeping in contact – as I said, phone, Skype and Messenger – but even though I enjoyed the brief chats, I still felt I missed the “real” flesh and blood people and the wonderful feeling one has when chatting face-to-face for a leisurely amount of time…

The word of the day today is “contact”:

contact noun |ˈkänˌtakt|
1) The state or condition of physical touching: The tennis ball is in contact with the court surface for as little as 5 milliseconds.
• The state or condition of communicating or meeting: Lewis and Clark came into contact with numerous river tribes | He had lost contact with his friends.
• [as adj. ] Activated by or operating through physical touch: Contact dermatitis.
• A connection for the passage of an electric current from one thing to another, or a part or device by which such a connection is made: A one-way electrical contact between a metal and a semiconductor.
• (contacts) Contact lenses.
2) A meeting, communication, or relationship with someone: They have forged contacts with key people in business.
• A person who may be communicated with for information or assistance, esp. with regard to one's job: Francie had good contacts.
• A person who has associated with a patient with a contagious disease (and so may carry the infection).
verb |ˈkänˌtakt; kənˈtakt| [ trans. ]
Communicate with (someone), typically in order to give or receive specific information.
DERIVATIVES
contactable |ˈkänˌtaktəbəl; kənˈtak-| adjective
ORIGIN early 17th century: From Latin contactus, from contact- ‘touched, grasped, bordered on,’ from the verb contingere, from con- ‘together with’ + tangere ‘to touch.’

We so often speak of keeping “in contact” with people nowadays but actual physical touching or physical presence is not involved. We have contacts all over the world with whom we communicate electronically, but no actual “contact” is involved. We seem to be turning into people who physically touch others less and less, even though we may boast a huge number of “friends” and “contacts” in our electronic communication channels. Are we becoming a species of loners and solitary recluses, socialising only in virtual spaces? We seem to be thriving on multiple contacts with other hermits living a safe distance away from us?

In the train I often see people absolutely cringe during rush hour when there is the slightest chance that they may contact someone. The other day someone nearly toppled over as he stepped back to avoid being too close to another person. He was embarrassed, but at a safe distance, notwithstanding the near fall. I remembered the situation in India when I was there and the sardine-like proximity of people in trains and I almost burst out laughing there in the train, but I restrained myself, only because there were so many people crowding me!

Is this progressive, debilitating isolation and tendency to become loners that forces us sometimes to seek out crowded public events? Is the privation of contact that makes us seek out the crowds of football games, public events, protests, demonstrations, large parties? Do we need to periodically reassure ourselves of the gratifying presence of large numbers of our own kind close to us? Is this part of the reason why massage is such a popular therapy nowadays? Is it because it provides us with the sense of touch and contact that we miss in our daily solitary life? Is this what causes some people to perhaps thrive the close contact of peak hour trains?

Perhaps we are becoming too civilised for our own good. Contact but more specifically physical touch, is one of the most fundamental of our sensory perceptions and one that can trigger some of the most significant emotional responses. We may have iPhones and Skype, computers and messenger applications, Facebook and Twitter, but the fundamental and most satisfying way of communicating with other people remains the face-to-face meeting and the wonderful sense of touch.

COURAGE

“Valour is stability, not of legs and arms, but of courage and the soul.” - Michel de Montaigne

While we are still reeling under the effects of the floods in the Eastern states of Australia, Perth in Western Australia has been battling bushfires, with nearly 50 homes lost to the flames and many times more of them damaged. We live in a land of extremes and natural disasters seem to be a fact of life for Australians ever since this land was settled. I can only imagine what the poor British thought in the first few decades of the first white settlement when confronted with cyclones, floods, bushfires, locust plagues, sandstorms, high winds…

There is currently much debate in parliament regarding natural disasters and the way that Australia will rebuild and how we shall pay for it. Although most people support a short-term levy (paid by those who can afford it as a tax payment), there is also talk of spending cuts and allowing the budget to go into the red rather than preserving election promises of a balanced budget or one in the black. The aggregated bill that goes into many billions of dollars demands payment and one way or another Australia will have to pay…

These topics seem to be far removed from Poetry Wednesday, however, there is an underlying theme of adversity and courage that manifests itself in the most unfortunate conditions. The Australian psyche seems to be one that rise to the challenge of adverse situations and typically one can rely on one’s fellows in times of hardship in Australia. It is a harsh land that we live in, but it also one of bounty. While Australians are tough to match the land, we all tend to have a soft spot for those of our fellows that are down and out and we are all willing to lend a helping hand and be generous of spirit. However, the courage shown by the victims is something that is admirable and worthy of acknowledgement.

Today, a poem by the English poet William Ernest Henley (1849 - 1902), whose popularity sky-rocketed as it was used in the film of the same name: “Invictus” (2009). The theme of the poem being one of adversity and the struggle to survive, suits my topic well today. Invictus means “unconquerable, invincible” in Latin and if we have strength of character, great stores of courage and fire in our soul, we can overcome anything and we are truly unconquerable!

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley (1849 - 1902)

VASANT PANCHAMI

“I believe that all wisdom consists in caring immensely for a few right things, and not caring a straw about the rest.” - John Buchan

Today is the Hindu Festival of Vasant Panchami. Vasant Panchami is devoted to Saraswati, the goddess of knowledge, music and art. It is celebrated every year on the fifth day (i.e. Panchami) of the Indian month Magh (January-February), the first day of spring. During this festival children are taught to write their first words, under the tutelage and protection of the goddess. Most educational institutions organise a special prayer for Saraswati and invoke her guidance and protection.  Pens, notebooks, and pencils are placed near the goddess’s feet to be blessed before they are used by students. Brahmins are fed and ancestor worship is performed, while the god of love Kamadeva is worshipped. The colour yellow rules this festival, with people usually wearing yellow clothes and the goddess Saraswati herself, being worshipped dressed in yellow. Children are give yellow-coloured sweets and customarily will fly kites on this day.

Saraswati is the consort of Brahma, and her name derives from the Sanskrit word “saras” (meaning ‘flow’) and “wati” (meaning “woman”). Initially Saraswati was a river as well as its personification as a river goddess. In the post-Vedic age, Saraswati began to lose her status as a river goddess and became increasingly associated with literature, arts, music, learning and knowledge. In Hinduism, Saraswati represents intelligence, consciousness, cosmic knowledge, creativity, education, enlightenment, music, the arts, and power. Hindus worship her not only for secular knowledge, but for “divine knowledge” essential to achieve liberation from the cycle of reincarnation (moksha).

Saraswati is shown with four hands, which symbolise ego, intellect, alertness and mind. She carries a lotus and scriptures in two of her hands and she plays music on the veena (an instrument similar to a sitar) with her other two hands. She rides on a white swan. Her white dress is a symbol for purity. The swan signifies that people should have the ability to discern good from evil. If the goddess is depicted sitting on a lotus, it is an indication of her wisdom and veracity. When the goddess is shown sitting on a peacock, it is a reminder that a strong ego can be held back by wisdom.

Vasant Panchami marks the end of the winter season and welcomes Spring. Yellow signifies the brilliance of the sun and the vibrancy of life. During the Vasant Panchami festival, India’s crop fields are filled with the color yellow, as the yellow mustard flowers at this time of the year. Hindus will prepare and feast on a special pastry called kesari halwa, which is made from flour, sugar, nuts, and cardamom powder and saffron strands. Saffron gives the sweetmeat a vibrant yellow color and its distinctive fragrance.

The holiday is celebrated with great splendour and affection in India and it is a public holiday. Government offices, schools, colleges are closed on this day. Some private offices are operational as is public transport, however, there is heavy traffic due to many processions at various places.

MOVIE MONDAY: A WESTERN AND AN... EASTERN

“A good film is when the price of the dinner, the theatre admission and the babysitter were worth it.” - Alfred Hitchcock

We watched two films at the weekend, one relatively new and the other “vintage”. We enjoyed both of them although they were very different and represented two entirely different genres. We can recommend watching both of them, unless you are allergic to one or both of the genres…

The first was the classic 1972 Mark Rydell Western “The Cowboys”, with John Wayne in one of his best mature roles. This was a typical Wayne Western, but it had some surprises, as well as a delightful performance by Roscoe Lee Browne who played the black cook of the cattle drive. The film was big and bold and the cinematography was beautiful. It dealt with a coming of age of a group of young cowboys (aged 9 to 15 years!), who are hired by Wayne in desperation as he cannot get any cattle drovers on account of them running away to take part in the gold rush. Their job is to take a herd of cattle across the country, dealing with all sorts of dangers and villains in the process.

The film is typical Hollywood and in this case that is to its credit. There is a luscious music score, good performances, interesting plot, humour and pathos, light-heartedness and poignancy. John Wayne aged 65 years in this movie gives one of his best performances, I think. He interacts beautifully with his fellow-actors, especially the young boys, who are very convincing and give good performances all round. Bruce Dern makes a convincing villain, but the honours must go to the great performance by Roscoe Lee Browne, whose every scene is a stealer.

We thoroughly enjoyed this movie (which oddly enough we hadn’t seen before) and we can recommend it most highly. As well as lots of shooting, it does have a sad ending, so be warned.

The other film we watched was the 2010 Mike Newell fantasy “Prince of Persia – The Sands of Time”. This was an elaborate fairy tale seemingly straight out of the Thousand-and-One-Nights. The Disney studio, which was responsible for this movie, has a tradition of such fare and it does it well. The movie was inspired by the video game series “Prince of Persia”, so I’m sure we shall see one or two sequels, although at a budget of $200,000,000 to be made, it still has to earn a quid or two to break even!

The film concerns itself with the King of Persia and his three sons, two of whom are his own and one of whom is adopted. The adopted son is the hero of the story, Dastan, played by Jake Gyllenhaal. Gemma Arterton plays his leading lady, Tamina, who is the princess of a mysterious sacred city, Alamut. The King’s brother follows the three princes to Alamut to do battle with it as there is evidence that Alamut has a store of weapons that it is selling to the enemies of the King. The city is overtaken by Dastan’s strategy and bravery, and he takes as booty a magic dagger that has the capability of turning back time. However, all is not what it seems, and there is traitor amongst the three Princes – or is there? Alamut had no store of secret weapons (tongue in cheek dig at Iraq’s weapons of mass destruction?) and the Princess Tamina has to grudgingly side with Prince Dastan to recover the dagger and save not only the kingdom, but also the world it turns out.

The film was entertaining and was pure escapism and fantasy. However, as is the case with many Hollywood historical or quasi-historical films what history was shown was grossly inaccurate – but never mind, we won’t show this film in a history class. However, one does wonder, with a budget of $200,000,000 couldn’t they employ a historian to vet the film? But that’s Hollywood for you, the historian’s wages were instead used for the pedicurist who did the dogs’ nails!

One again we enjoyed this film, as it was full of humour, incident, action (some wild parkour sequences!), lavish costumes and scenery, fantastic CGI that blend imperceptibly with the real scenery and actors. The result is a polished, high quality bit of fluff that will keep many amused. Not having seen the video game (much less played it), I cannot comment on how accurate a depiction of the game the movie is, but as a movie it worked for me – within its genre.