I was given a brief reminder today of my glorious former career when notified of a new book by Steve Chase, a former ABC NSW Parliamentary reporter, recounting his days in the press gallery.
The mention is brief, and probably not all that flattering since it kind of suggests I was probably “used”, but it documents an interview I did a thousand years ago. The interview, it seems. played a significant role in the downfall of NSW Police Minister, Ted Pickering, and in the establishment of the Royal Commission into Policing in NSW.
For a brief moment, I was taken back to Wagga Wagga. I vividly remember the interview even now. I also remember the interview with Joe Schipp, the Member for Wagga Wagga and NSW Housing Minister in which he was critical of his leader, NSW Premier, John Fahey. More than the interview, I remember the newspaper headline that followed, “Shut Up Joe”. Classic.
As we have a six-year-old in the house, and as it was Easter Sunday (read easter eggs) no one had much of a chance to sleep in this morning. For a six-year-old, Easter lacks the excitement of Christmas Day, but the idea of an Easter Egg Hunt is still enough to get him up early.
For the rest of us, it’s been a day of doing nothing much at all, though we did watch a couple of movies together, including Bran Nue Dae which emerged as a family favourite. Although I’ve been “wanting” to see it for quite some time I never have gotten around to it, mostly due to the limited cinema release, and because I never hire videos anymore. My sister does, and she hired it a few months ago and loved it so much she thought it would be great family viewing. And indeed it was. A great story with a sense of humour, wonderful music, and very well-told.
The other movie a few of us watched today was a replay of “Paper Giants” which I wrote about last week.
And all by myself, I watched “The Emigrants” the classic 1970s Swedish drama which screened this afternoon on the commercial television station, GEM. “Wow”, I thought to myself when I saw it in the program guide. Prior to Bjorn and Benny’s composition of the musical, “Kristina fran Duvemala”, I had no idea of the movie, the books, nor of the immigration to the United States of something like 25% of the Swedish population during the nineteenth century.
Scene from classic Swedish film, The Emigrants
As a film, I don’t think it’s dated all that well, unfortunately, as there are moments when the acting is a little wooden. Still, it was an interesting historical document and still quite entertaining to watch. The best-known names in the film included Max Von Sydow and Liv Ullman, but I was also impressed to see the Swedish jazz legend, Monica Zetterlund play the role of Ulrika.
The only disconcerting thing I found in watching the film was that it was dubbed, not subtitled. The dubbing was very good, but it was still recognisable, particularly in one scene where Robert went from his dubbed English into real English (with a strong Swedish accent).
So, as you can see, it’s that kind of Easter Sunday. Chocolates and film.
Meanwhile, we’re having gorgeous weather in Lismore.
“We have a problem. We are a dance band, and the people need room to dance” was how Benny Andersson began the Benny Anderssons Orkester performance at Stockholm’s Skansen.
Clearly, he was referring to the large number of people who had rushed to the very front of the stage as soon as they were able. In the midst, I’m sure, there were a bunch of ABBA fans who were there to see the former ABBA-member still performing on stage, aged 65. Meanwhile, I was standing in the nearby queue to get a beer. Boy were the queues lengthy.
Once the dance floor was cleared, it was quickly filled by lots of middle-aged and older Swedes who love to waltz, to polka, and to do some of the traditional Swedish dances. As I watched them, I couldn’t help but think of the scene from “The Sound Of Music” where they perform “The Linden”. Lots of the more traditional dances appeared to have lots of skips and slides, and I was taken back to my high school years where it was compulsory, for a while, for us to learn how to dance. I’m not sure if that still happens?
Benny Anderssons OrkestersThe first half of the show was made up of lots of short dance pieces, some of them fast in tempo, others slower, before ending with an ABBA song, “Kisses Of Fire” from “Voulez Vous”. I didn’t know this at the time until a fellow ABBA-fan mentioned later in the night, this was a song never performed live by ABBA, even though it was very much in the height of their popularity, and out in time for the US/Europe tour of 1979. I loved the way Helen introduced this by talking about growing up as a teenager and listening to ABBA and Grease and getting the words wrong. In short, I liked the first half very much, but not as much as the second.
The second half of the show seemed to go into greater musical depth. In addition to the waltzes and polkas, there were a couple of wonderful pieces which stick in my mind: a strong, bluesy version of “Cadillac” a song by Benny’s first band, “The Hep Stars”, and another almost melancholic piece which heavily featured the saxophone. There was also a fantastic, lengthy instrumental piece with a virtuoso performance on the glockenspiel as its focus.
The second half also featured of a bunch of ABBA songs. The songs chosen were very much, though, in the style of a “dance band”, including “I Do, I Do, I Do” and “Hasta Manana”, both of which inspired much smooching on the dance floor. Nobody asked me to dance. :( The most inspired ABBA re-interpretation for for me was “Why Did It Have To Be Me” featuring the amazing vocals of Helen Sjoholm and Tommy Korberg. The song’s reprise was an alternative interpretation of the song, as featured on the ABBA song, “Happy Hawaii” (which is basically the same song, though with a slight variation).
Benny Anderssons Orkesters
However, I thought the greatest moment of the show, was when Benny and the core musicians of the band came right down into the audience. It was like the parting of the Red Sea as the crowd simply made room for the musicians, playing their instruments, to come right down onto the dance floor. Yes, there was a rush of ABBA fans with cameras to take photographs – luckily I was standing in the right place and so didn’t have to move – but mostly it was done calmly and smoothly.
What struck me most about the show was how hard all of the musicians worked. Most were on stage for close to four hours (including a 30 minute or so break), with some of them playing multiple instruments. By the end Tommy was showing signs of perspiration and Helen was starting to look a little tired which is understandable. Nonetheless, both Helen and Tommy, along with Benny and the other musicians seemed to really enjoy the show. They smiled, they jumped up and down, they seemed to have a great time. I was impressed.
The show was recorded by Swedish TV, SVT, so I’m guessing it will eventually turn up on screen, as a DVD, and whatever else they do these days.
It’s Sunday night and I’m struggling to find something interesting to watch on television, so I thought I’d update my diary, the first time since arriving home from Lismore. Upon reflection I enjoyed some aspects of going home for Christmas and didn’t enjoy others. I didn’t enjoy the heat and I still find Lismore a little boring, but it was great to see my family and to chill out for a while.
I also took the time to time in Lismore to read a few interesting books. Most noteworthy were The Perfect Glass Of Wine and The Dismissal, books about two of my favourite subjects – wine and politics – but I also read a few other books probably not worth mentioning.
Since arriving back in Sydney, it’s all been work, work, work, especially with the Central Coast bushfires on New Years Day. That said, I had a great fun night with Michaela last week, ending in dinner a terrific Mexican place on Riley Street. The Sydney Festival season has also begun, which means lots of socialising.
Last night I went to the Opening Night of the Sydney Festival which, I have to say, looks pretty good this year. Ahead of the party, I went to see Twelfth Night performed in Russian (with surtitles) by an all-male cast. Although you may have needed to re-read that sentence, it’s all true. At the Sydney Festival Opening Night Party, I overheard a conversation in which one person – a journalist I think – described it as “challenging”.
In fact the play was an absolute joy to behold on so many levels. The direction was excellent. There was never an occasion where I thought the actors over or underplayed their roles and they always seemed at ease with the work. The comedic timing was excellent with the final words of the play garnering a huge belly-laugh from the audience. One of the other particular highlights was the incorporation of music played live on stage by the actors, often drawing upon 1930s-style tango-style arrangements. I found it to be genuinely exciting theatre to watch.
Although I noticed a fair number of people left at intermission, those who remained were given a terrific second half, giving the cast an enthusiastic round of applause at the end. I think the audience really appreciated the efforts the actors had clearly undertaken to make sure their work was understood by an audience which, largely speaking, didn’t speak Russian. My friend Colin also observed “they look like a nice group of blokes” and I think most of the audience agreed.
In his opening night speech, Festival Director, Fergus Linehan acknowledge it was Russian Christmas. Much less controversial than his speech earlier in the night when we were asked to acknowledged the passing of Kerry Packer which received a muted response at Twelfth Night and boos at the Anderson Project. The party, as always, was great fun, though, with the exception of Cate Blanchett, celebrities were a little light on the ground. Mind you, I did see someone who looked like a younger Paul Keating who kept smiling at me throughout the night. I don’t know what to make of that (or maybe I do?).
Wandering home I noticed the Nativity Scene is still outside St Mary’s Cathedral. It’s a lovely scene and if you’re in Sydney over the next little while it’s well worth going to have a look at.
“Walking around Lismore after the first flood, when there was still mud around and large piles of trashed furniture out on the street made sense of what happened. But it doesn’t make sense now”, I said to Noreen who runs the Duck Pond Espresso Coffee Shop in South Lismore.
“The night of the first flood people told me I didn’t need to worry about moving the van”, she told me this morning, adding “But I just knew I should”. She then pointed to the wall of the building next door.
Duck Pond Espresso Cafe in South Lismore, where the water reached almost to the top of the nearby green wall.
Her’s was one of maybe half a dozen businesses open in the central parts of Lismore when I wandered around today.
In the CBD itself, there’s a temporary Woolworths that’s open with only two or three checkouts. Also in Lismore Central, there’s a fruit and veg shop, and a temporary coffee shop. There’s another coffee shop open on Keen Street, and the Pie Van has also reopened. But that’s pretty much it.
Flood cleaning around the traveller’s centre in LismoreOne of the few places around Lismore’s CBD where you can grab a meal. “We opened last Monday” the owner told me.
Everything else in Central Lismore, South Lismore and North Lismore remains pretty much closed.
As I wandered around there were lots of blokes in hi-viz. Largely it seemed they were still in salvage mode rather than re-build mode.
Looking down into Lismore’s Star Court ArcadeLooking through the broken window of the Station Hotel, South Lismore
There were moments when I got a little bit teary about my hometown. The town where I was born and raised, have continued to think of as “home”, and where I have been planning to retire. Though I personally have managed to avoid the devastation of the two recent floods, I feel like some of my dreams have also been shattered.
And then of course, there’s the impact on my family which I’ve written about here. I managed to get some photographs off my nephew’s phone of what it was like inside our house on the Sunday night/Monday morning of the first flood before they were rescued. There’s a photograph of Pat sitting on the kitchen benchtop with water up to her knees. An hour later, she had water to her chest. An hour later, she would have drowned.
At the corner of Elliott Road and Union Streets, South Lismore, there’s a car dealership adjoining a butcher. This is on their shared wall: a mural which notes the 2017 flood level down the bottom, and the 2022 flood up the top.Visiting my old high school, Richmond River High School. Located in North Lismore, flood water will often come near the high school, but never enter the building, as it did a few weeks ago.
“I’ve spoken to a lot of people in Sydney”, I told Noreen, “and they just don’t understand the devastation. Lots of people have kept in touch, wishing me and everyone the best. Lots of people have donated money and goods, including directly to my family. But they still don’t really know”.
“Walking around after the first flood made sense. But walking around today doesn’t make much sense. All you can see are empty shops, collapsed buildings including houses washed off their stumps, and there’s erosion along the riverbank. But the river is back to normal. And it’s a lovely sunny day. It just doesn’t make sense.”
Having seen Au Pair, Kansas the other day and all of its faux Swedish-ness, it was great to see a real Swedish film, as part of the Mardi Gras Film Festival.
“Fyra år till” (Four More Years) tells the story of two Swedish male politicians with contrasting lives and viewpoints who fall in love. From the right-leaning Folkpartiet, there is David who is thought of as a potential future Swedish Prime Minister. From the left-leaing, Socialdemokraterna there is Martin who also has a bright future ahead of him as Party Chairman. The contrasts between the two are further emphasised by the fact that Martin is completely out as a gay man, while David is a fairly closeted man who is actually married to a woman. She knows he is gay, but doesn’t seem to mind, since they have politics as a common interest.
It’s a classic love story in many ways, as you see the two come together, fall apart, and all the while you’re hoping they’ll end up together by the end of the film.
It was a good film which my friend and I both enjoyed very much, particularly with all of the very specific Swedish cultural references which we both laughed out loud to, but which may have gone slightly over the heads of a few of those attending.
At one point, for example, David asks Martin how many men he has slept with. Although I can’t remember the exact wording of his very funny answer, he replies by equating the figure to the number of seats held by the different political parties in the Swedish parliament. It would be like saying, more than the Greens, but not as much as the National Party (or something like that).
There’s also an ongoing reference to the 1980s/1990s Swedish pop band, Ratata. I guess the closest equivalent would be Savage Garden. Ratata and Mauro (the lead singer) provide the soundtrack to the film, which was enjoyable, as I like their work very much.
One of the really terrific things about the film was the role of David was played by Björn Kjellman. He’s one of Sweden’s best known actors, and who I first became familiar with from his role as a transexual in the film, Livet är en schlager (Life is a pop song), which was a wonderful film about an “ordinary” woman who wins the the Melodifestivalen, the Swedish finals which lead to the Eurovision Song Contest.
Björn has an encyclopaedic knowledge of Melodifestivalen, and was actually a contestant in 2006. I think he and I could become good friends.
I got out of my sick bed briefly tonight to go to the Opening Night of the new exhibition by Bill Henson at the Roslyn Oxley 9 Gallery. Henson is a reasonably controversial photographer with allegations of teenage pornography previously levelled at his work. Irrespective of that debate, his photographs are always beautifully shot and presented, and so I was keen to see whether or not he would be as interesting or as controversial this time.
The topless teenage girls are still there in this exhibition, along with two other image themes, working ships and parklands. All three thematics are shot at the period just after dusk but before it has truly become night, that wonderful period where the light somehow conveys the peacefulness of a day’s end. But there’s also a danger in some of these photographs, especially in the ones featuring the teenage girls (notions of sexuality) and in the parklands (you might imagine a murder has just occured or is about to occur). I don’t really understand how the working ships fit into the exhibition, though I’m sure they do.
