It’s been another day of doing nothing much at all. Well, not exactly nothing. I washed and ironed some shirts for work. I chatted to my sister and my friend Sue. I’ve watched some television. And I’ve been going through some photographs and old emails. But aside from that, it’s been a quiet do-nothing kinda day.
“I always kind of skip through the Wynne Prize.”, I told my friend Michaela. We were visiting the Archibald Prize, Australia’s most prestigious portraiture award. This year’s competition saw a record number of entries, with over 1000 works.
The unanimous winner was a portrait of singer Jessica Cerro, better known as Montaigne. She represented Australia in the Eurovision Song Contest a few years ago. Critics said Gutman’s painting captured the artist’s energy and charisma, while also conveying a sense of vulnerability. I thought it was okay.
The Archibald Prize is about portraits, the Wynne Prize is about landscapes, and the Sulman Prize is about contemporary art. All three are featured each year at the Art Gallery of New South Wales. Of the three, I often like the Sulman Prize works the best. They tend to be more cutting-edge. They often feature a wider range of subjects and styles than the Archibald Prize works. And they often feature more diversity in terms of the artists who create them.
I think the Sulman Prize is a great way to see the latest and greatest in Australian contemporary art.
These are some of my favorites from all three competitions this year.
And then there’s the Young Archy, which features work by under 18s. Sometimes that’s the best of all.
It’s late Saturday night. I still haven’t packed, I still haven’t organised the house, but I have set up an Online Diary, so I can record all of my thoughts and feelings while living in the Northern Territory.
I hope this period will be a significant one in my life. A real turning point. The last few months I’ve felt a little directionless. I hope this will give me the strength to make a new life.
As noted here and here, I enjoyed a terrific weekend catching with some current and former members of ABBAMAIL/Village, and watching Melodifestivalen with an assortment of Swedophiles, friends, and one Swede.
With thanks to Graeme, here are some photographs from the weekend…
When you have a computer that takes, literally, ten to fifteen minutes to boot up every day, you need something to pass the time. I check my mail, I check my voice-mail, and I take a swig or two on the coffee I’ve picked up on the way to work.
My favourite shop for coffee is “Coffee Trails” at Railway Square. I’ve been going there for almost as long as they’ve been open. I even follow them, and they follow me on Twitter. The shop has a good vibe about it, and they make good coffee. Clearly, however, I’ve been extolling their virtues far too much, as they’ve become more and more popular. Lately, the queue has been, literally, out the door. How I long for the days when they had just a loyal, but small customer base.
But I keep going back, because they known my name, they’re lovely people, and they make good coffee. But from time to time, lately, I’ve become a little promiscuous when it comes to purchasing coffee. If the queue there is too long, I’ll go to another “hole in the wall coffee shop”. And if it’s too busy there, I’ll try another. Just the other day, though, just about everyone in Sydney seemed to be purchasing coffee, and everyone had such a long queue, that I was forced to go to work without a coffee. I know, I know. First world problems.
We certainly seem to have embraced the coffee lifestyle in Sydney, or perhaps it’s just more and more people living in the city?
Also, I have a slightly weird theory though that we’ll see health problems emerge in a couple of years time, as people come down with a mystery illness due to the “leached plastic” in their systems due to the coffee cup lids. Seriously guys, it’s time to take the plastic lid off the paper cup.
If I was at home, I probably would have opened a bottle of wine, collapsed on the coach, and then later on, surfed the net for a while. Needless to say, my life’s not like that in Narvik. First of all, I’m not arriving home stressed, a bottle of wine is too expensive to contemplate, and I’ve yet to find a wifi connection here. So last night after dinner, I was content with some reading and watching some television.
You know how I mentioned “Allsang pa Skansen”, the community singing program on Swedish television? Well, there’s an equivalent program in Norway called “Allsang pa Grensen”. The setting isn’t as glamorous as Skansen, though it obviously has some local importance and relevance. Unfortunately, I tuned in too late to see legendary country singer, Lynn Anderson who was a guest on the program. “I Never Promised You A Rose Garden” was her biggest hit, and a childhood favourite of mine. There was also a Freddie Mercury impersonator who kept urging the audience to “rock it”. He was quite good. In Australia, of course, the usual response to “We Will Rock You”, is the refrain “fuck you, fuck you, stick it right up you”. I was a little disappointed the Norwegian audience failed to respond in the same way. Now that would have been a Youtube moment…
And then after that, there was the nine o’clock news on TV2. Oddly enough, it didn’t appear to actually contain any “real news” until about seven minutes into the bulletin. The first part of the bulletin seemed to be stories about ordinary people, and their reactions to news and life. It wasn’t until about eight minutes into the bulletin before Condoleeze Rice popped her head up. Quite refreshing, I thought. I’ve also noticed there’s a lot of American programming on Scandinavian television. Lots of CSI. Lots of Cold Case. Lots of “Funniest Home Videos”. All of the American programs seems to be confined to just one channel in both Norway and Sweden. It’s kinda good to know that when I want some English language programming I know exactly where to find it. There’s not a lot of television from elsewhere, including the UK and Europe, aside from a few home makeover programs. I have to say, though, in both countries, I haven’t been able to find much “quality programming” on free to air. Maybe it’s just the non-ratings period?
Over breakfast this morning, I met a Swedish woman who comes from a small town near Eskilstuna (not far from Stockholm). She told me she had only planned this holiday last week, “Because life is so well planned, that sometimes you just need to be spontaneous”. The town she is from is, apparently very beautiful. We were later joined by a Norwegian couple. As the conversation continued in English, I suggested that since I spoke a little Swedish there was no need to speak in English. They seemed relieved! I think I understood about twenty-five percent of what was going on. I was completely lost when a funny story was told. It was just too complex and too fast. Anyway, the Norwegian couple told a story about the nearby Lofoten Islands. Apparently, several years ago the local authorities had built a bridge from the mainland to the islands at enormous expense. They didn’t, however, build a tunnel through the mountain at the other end. Thus, the bridge sat there completely unused for about fifteen years. “A typical Norwegian story”, the Swedish woman said laughingly.
I set out on my own little adventure today, determined to see a little more of the area beyond Narvik itself. I was determined, however, that it should remain relaxing. Nothing too strenuous, and nothing too rushed for this part of my holiday. So I packed my bag with a couple of oranges, some water, and my camera and started walking towards the nearby village of Beisfjord, which is about ten kilometres away. I chose there because I knew there was a regular bus route, and that if I get exhausted, bored, or the weather turned, I could always catch the bus. As it turned out, the weather has been spectacular. It’s like one of those great winter days in Sydney where the sun gently warms your bones. It’s warm enough for me to wear shorts and a shirt, though I packed my jumper just in case.
Along the way I had a chance to really have a close look at the local vegetation and rock forms. Sorry if you find this kinda stuff boring, because I find it quite interesting. I don’t remember enough about high school geology to remember if quartz is often found near iron ore, but there’s a hell of a lot of quartz in the area, nonetheless. There’s also a lot of very small plants, with those tiny flowers you often associate with alpine regions. Everything on the roadside is also growing wild and lush. Also in people’s backyards, they just seem to have let everything grow wild. I’ve yet to hear a lawn mower. I guess it’s because summer is so short, that they just let everything grow wild.
When I finally made it to Beisfjord, I sat there for an hour or so eating my oranges and looking at the mountains and the water. It’s truly wonderful landscape. Moments of wonderful contemplation. Not having the desire to walk all the way back, I sat for a while at the bus stop, waiting for the bus which I knew arrived at about three o’clock. Sitting just metres away from me was a teenage boy of about fifteen. You could see from the look on his face he seemed quite confused by me. After a few minutes he came over and asked me what time the bus was due to arrive (as if I’d know!) and then asked me where I was from. We chatted until the bus arrived. I got the sense from him of excitement in meeting someone from outside his small village in the far north of Norway. I know, because I was the same teenage kid growing up in country Australia. Because Narvik is really very remote, you can imagine the kids here would have same kind of issues faced by kids in many remote towns all over the world. The isolation. Concerns about jobs after high school. You know the stuff I mean.
Anyway, I’ve just arrived home after a quite exhausting day. I mean, it’s only four o’clock in the afternoon, and so there’s still plenty of the day left. It’s Friday night and I’d like to “do” something with my Friday night. But what do people in Narvik do on a Friday night? Is there a pub with a meat tray somewhere?
It’s Sunday afternoon, I’m having a Gin & Tonic, and I’m listening to show tunes by Jodie Gillies. Don’t worry, no need for suicide watch, it’s just a wet Sunday afternoon in Perth and what better way to spend the afternoon.
I really love this CD by Jodie Gillies and play it fairly often. The only time I have ever seen her perform was at the Wagga Wagga Civic Theatre in the early 90s. Disappointingly the crowd was small, but she sang with intelligence and emotion. I fell in love! The CD contains really spectacular performances of a range of popular musical theatre songs from the 70s, 80s and 90s. Although at times, she can be a little “Ethel Merman” there are also moments of great tenderness. What’s she up to now? Who knows? I hope she records again.
I’ve also been reading quite a bit lately, including two books about the American presidency, both from a Democrat perspective, although “Worse Than Watergate” was written by John W. Dean, former Counsel to President, Richard Nixon who draws parralels between the apparent lack of openness of presidencies of Nixon and George Bush Jnr. Indeed, the central thesis of the book is that Bush’s Government is probably even more secret, but so far haven’t been caught out in the way the Nixon was. The book argues the secrecy pre-dated September 11, but became even greater in the period since then. The architect of the secrecy, argues Dean, is Dick Cheney. While there are a few things I didn’t know – such as the existence of an alternative government in the event of terrorist attack – the book’s argument becomes a little repetitive after a while. An enjoyable read.
The last week has been reasonably busy with both work and social engagements, two of which came about through my connection with ABBAMAIL.
The first involved a meeting with a friend of ABBAMAILER, Paul, called Kate who has been living in Europe for about a decade and who has just returned to Perth. Paul gave us a virtual introduction a few months ago,
On Thursday night, Kate and I had a glass of chardy at “The Queens”, followed by dinner at a fabulous restaurant called, Dusit Thai, and then a coffee in town, during which we chatted, compared notes on Paul (we’ll write a character assessment of him sometime soon!) and had a great old time, although I must say meeting her was odd in that she reminded me quite a bit of a woman – both physically and in her personality – I knew millions of years ago. Quite unnerving! But very nice!
I also went out to lunch with Trent yesterday. I first met Trent, who is now in his late 20s, through ABBAMAIL seven or eight years ago when he was just a young pup. On my suggestion, Trent and his friend Tristan went on the Swan Valley Cruise that Damien and I went on a couple of months ago. Like Damo and I, T & T had a great time, with Trent declaring it one of the most entertaining days of his life. And so, planning a day at Fremantle, I suggested we catch the ferry to Freo so Trent could experience the other end of the river which took as past the houses of Perth’s rich and famous. Trent noticed that the commentator for the cruise had an unhealthy obsession with the man made structures – bridges and highways – of Perth!
We had a terrific lunch at the Mussell Beer, feasting on a lovely Pinot Gris from the Adelaide Hills and baked Fremantle snapper. Excellent value and great fun. Although we’ve known each other for quite some time, I don’t think we’ve ever chatted so openly before, which was good. After browsing around Fremantle, we travelled back to the city via the train network, which Trent found amusingly small. Overall a great day.
It’s also been great to have been invited to have a few beers after work this week. It’s four and a half months, now, since I arrived, and I’m starting to feel really at home with the people here. Almost without exception everyone has been really nice.
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Sounds like a perfect day! (Apart from the washing and ironing shirts bit, and particularly the “for work” bit). :)
Aren’t you going to start tomorrow on the new job? So a day of rest in advance is always good.
No.