“Do you remember much about the incident?” I was asked by the detective this afternoon.
“Yes I do”, I told him, “as I keep a blog and recorded my memories of the incident in a fair degree of detail”, I added.
I know this sounds awfully cryptic, I can’t blog about what happened today, but suffice it to say, it’s good news in response to a fairly traumatic incident which happened in my life a few months ago.
As it’s a current legal matter, that’s all I can say at this stage. Regular readers, stay tuned…
We dared to break all contact with our mother. Photo by Julia Nygren.
I almost cried when I saw this photograph. “What on earth have they been through to make such a declaration”, I asked myself. “We dared to break all contact with our mother” is such an incredibly sad statement. You just know that whatever’s happened must have been difficult for both the daughters and the mother.
It’s one of a series of images – about daring to do things – in a music video by the Swedish group, Säkert, a group I discovered about twelve months ago. Their song, Fredrik has been a real favourite of mine in the time since. I even translated it for Swedish class.
And now they’ve translated Fredrik into English also. Though the translation takes on a very different form, and personally, I don’t think it sounds as good in English as it did in Swedish.
“What if”, I thought, “I translate them almost word by word, and it nearly turns into a third language, English words used in a Swedish way?”*
And that’s what she’s done. Love the concept.
The last group to do that was ABBA! Well, maybe not intentially, but their song Fernando contains a wonderful example of a phrase that makes perfect sense in Swedish “sedan många år” (since many years) which makes absolutely no sense in English. We would never say “since many years” in English, though, thanks to ABBA, that’s maybe no longer the case.
Anyway, here’s a very beautiful example of Säkert with a song that was once “på svenska” but which is now “in English”.
It’s Monday night/Tuesday morning and I’ve just been to see “A Long Way To The Top”, with Kate, Frank and Joan, at the Sydney Entertainment Centre.
Based on the ABC-TV show, the concert featured the likes of Lucky Starr, Col Joye, Judy Stone, Little Pattie, The Atlantics, Normie Rowe, The La De Da’s, Ross Wilson, Marcia Hines, Spectrum, Axiom, and Billy Thorpe performing only their hit songs. It was somewhat surreal to see some artists, one hit wonders, come on stage, sing their song and disappear.
There were several personal highlights:
Marcia Hines sang three songs, including “Fire & Rain” shown on “the big screen”, and it was highly reminiscent of actually watching an episode of “Countdown”. Marcia has put on a few kilograms, but otherwise looked fantastic and sounded great.
Stevie Wright, who has had poor health, due to drug and alcohol abuse sang “Evie”. As he struggled through the number the crowd watched both in horror and adoration at someone who was once a great performer and for whom they still seem to have a great deal of affection.
John Paul Young gave strong performances of “Love Is In The Air”, “I Hate The Music” and “Yesterday’s Hero”, while Little Patti gave only competent versions of her songs.
Judy Stone sang “4,003,221 Tears From Now” (one of my favourite childhood songs) and her uptempo version of “Hasta Manana”. I was disappointed she didn’t sing another favourite of mine, “Would You Lay With Me In A Field Of Stone”, which was a hit for her in the 1970s.
Long Way To The Top at the Sydney Entertainment Centre
Dinah Lee sang a couple of songs. There was something odd about the way she looked which I couldn’t quite identify, until Joan suggested as interval “she needs to do something about that terrible facelift she’s had”.
Joan was in fine form, but when Joan started to dance in the aisle, she was ordered back to her seat by security… that was pretty funny.
Overall, I think it’s a great concept that was well executed. Because the performers were only on stage for two or three songs at a time (some of them only for one), they really gave exceptional performances.
In the last week, we’ve had a couple of really windy days in Sydney. Last Wednesday, in particular, was a day when conditions made the national nightly news.
I went out for lunch with some friends, and as we made our way towards the light rail, a strong gust of wind almost knocked me over. Thankfully, my friends held me up.
If I’d fallen to the ground, I would have done some serious damage, hitting the concrete.
As part of the rehabilitation program after my lower limb amputation last year, I did a two-hour falls prevention training course at the hospital.
Those attending the course were a combination of people like me, living with a disability, and older people.
Generally, when the phrase “he/she has had a fall” is used in relation to older people, it’s often a phrase used to indicate it was the incident that led the person into a nursing home.
And so when it was mentioned I would need to do the course, I was skeptical. But at 57 years of age, I’d lost a lower limb and was getting around in a wheelchair, so it made sense.
It was a really good course, as it helped me to think about the things around my home that might have contributed to a fall, including the placement of furniture.
Thankfully, I haven’t had a major fall at home, though it came close a few months ago when I woke up in the middle of the night, was desperate to go to the toilet, and “forgot” that I didn’t have a lower right leg, and fell flat on the floor.
Out in public, there have been a few occasions when I’ve found myself overwhelmed by the surroundings, particularly in crowded environments. There have even been a couple of occasions when people have literally pushed me out of the way, failing to notice my disability. Yes, seriously, people have pushed me out of the way.
Though I don’t need crutches anymore when I go out in public, I recently bought a walking stick to take in the event of crowded venues.
There was also an occasion a few months ago when I suffered a terrible bout of vertigo, meaning I had terrible balance issues, and couldn’t get up without wanting to vomit, as my head was spinning. In that circumstance, I had to call a friend who came to my house, and ordered an ambulance, which took me to the hospital.
This was the impetus for me to buy a watch for the first time in a couple of decades. It’s a digital watch that connects with my mobile phone, meaning I can make phone calls and alert emergency services without having to go looking for my phone.
Thankfully, my physiotherapist, Peita, has also done a couple of sessions with me on how to recover from a fall.
There are lots of resources out there with helpful tips if / when this becomes an issue for you or someone you know, but here’s a YouTube video which explains a bit more.
I’m have both knees, so this method works well for me.
Above the knee amputees will find the recovery slightly different. I’m not an expert, so won’t offer an opinion, except to suggest checking in with a doctor or physiotherapist.
While the rest of Sydney headed into the CBD for the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras Parade, a couple of friends and I headed west to the Penrith Regional Art Gallery. One of the guys I was travelling with has a work in the exhibition “Wonder Mountain”. Through my friend Kate, I’d also met a couple of the other exhibiting artists.
The first thing I noticed on arriving at Penrith was the smell of a country town. Even though Penrith is on the outskirts of Sydney, it’s very much a country town in lots of ways. The river dominates the landscape. Housing on the streets varies considerably: the McMansion and the old weather-board cottage can sit side-by-side. But overwhelmingly, what distinguishes where I live now (in the centre of Sydney) from Penrith is the smell. As we arrived at the the gallery, I jumped out of the car, headed straight over to the river, and I could “smell” I wasn’t in Sydney anymore.
What followed was a brief moment of wondering “why did I move to Sydney, when I could have stayed living in the country”. It’s been several months since I’ve felt that way, as I haven’t been home to Lismore in over twelve months. But every time I have the experience of being in a country town I have similar feelings. For a good part of the exhibition opening, I sat in the garden and simply enjoyed the environment. In particular, it was great to simply sit there and watch the live art by Hua Tunan (画图男).
Live art by Hua Tunan (画图男)
It was raining on and off for a while, and although the heavier rains forced me inside for a while, I was also happy and content to get a little wet. Growing up on the North Coast has clearly had an influence on me – turned me into a bit of a hippy. :)
Over the next few hours I chatted with a few people, including a local couple who had also lived in a number of the country towns towns I’ve lived in. We chatted about some of the “lost jobs” no longer evident in country towns. We chatted about the “black pubs and the white pubs” in places like Bourke where we had both lived. In so many ways it was a stark contrast from so many of the gallery openings I’ve attended in the inner city of Sydney, taking me back to the many years I’ve lived in the country.
As for the exhibition itself: there were works I really liked, and works I didn’t like so much.
The work I enjoyed most was by Sydney artist, Peter Nelson. The mixed media work by Peter included porcelain and a video which I spent quite a long time watching.
After the exhibition a whole bunch of us enjoyed dinner at a local Thai restaurant where the food was suprisingly spicy. Quite often in country towns, the local Thai and Chinese restaurants tone down the level of chilli they use. That was not the case this time. So yeah, a really nice experience.
Mud Maps
Although we had a vague idea it would be fun to make it back in time to see at least a small amount of the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras Parade, we never made it. I’ll make it next year, I’m sure. I mean, it doesn’t vary much from year to year, does it?
My mind was taken back this weekend, to my last visit to Stockholm in 2017. In particular, to Gröna Lund, the amusement park on Djurgården, located on one of the central islands of the city.
Gröna Lund
Swoon
Although you would normally associate the idea of an amusement park with a story that is light and fluffy, the film Swoon (original Swedish title “Eld & lågor”) tells a far deeper story of crime and corruption, as the original owners of the park, and a nearby park across the road competed for customers in the 1940s.
It was one of a couple of films I attended this weekend, and was part of the annual Scandinavian Film Festival in Sydney.
Eld & lågor
In some ways, Swoon had the feel of “Moulin Rouge”. There were moments of hyper-reality, and modern pop songs from the likes of ABBA and Bon Jovi were taken back to the 1940s in style to provide the film’s backdrop.
Amidst the crime and corruption, there was also a love story between a man and woman from the competing families. And there was the story of Lennart, a brother who was homosexual, who has an interesting story also. In the midst of the love story there was also darkness, both in plotline, and cinematically with most of the scenes set at night.
The film was released only a few months ago in Sweden, and so it was great to have it showing at this year’s festival.
The Man Who Played With Fire
The Man Who Played With Fire
Even more “dark” was the documentary film, “The Man Who Played With Fire”. Though best known around the world as the author of the “Millenium” trilogy, Stieg Larsson was also an active researcher and activist against the political extreme right wing in Sweden. This film goes deeply into the story of why he was so interested, what he and others did, and, more fundamentally, what caused the rise of neo-Nazism (in the 80s and 90s in Sweden), and how it has been transformed.
The film describes the relative “failure” of neo-Nazism and right wing terrorism in the 1960s and 1970s. By the 1980s, the large-scale bombings of (for example) Bologna, were replaced by day to day violence against immigrant communities, the establishment of “Viking Rock” to fund the movement through CD sales, and an increasingly mainstream (dress icely, cut your hair short) “outward appearance” which would eventually see political parties like “Sweden Democrats” end up with parliamentary representation.
Throughout all this, Stieg Larsson (and others) were writing books, newspaper articles and appearing in the media, warning about the rise of neo-Nazism. Though I have a long-term interest in Swedish politics and culture, I had no idea there was such a story of violence (including bombings and murders) occuring during this period.
The film was about 100 minutes long, and it was compelling throughout.
The White Crow
Oleg Ivenko in The White Crow
And then today I also went to see “The White Crow”, the biographical film about Rudolph Nureyev. Beyond a scant understanding that he was one of the great dancers of his generation, and had defected from the USSR, I had little previous knowledge of his life story.
A story which began as he was born on a train in the 1930s. Though his family was poor, he had a natural talent, and eventually became of the USSR’s great dancers. The film portrays his curiosity of the outside world from a very young age. The film jumps back and forward between his early life, his life in Leningrad, and finally, his life in Paris.
I enjoyed the film very much. It’s visually very beautiful, and the ballet, of course, is superb. But of course, there’s also the complexity of his life story that also intrigues, and made me come home immediately, and read as much as possible as I could about him.
For a week or two, I’ve been in search of a video to use at the “Tribute to Colin”, to be held in a couple of weeks on what would have been his birthday. Colin was one of those featured in a copy of a 1994 documentary about Arthur Stace, the man who wrote “Eternity” on Sydney foothpaths for many years.
The documentary originally screened at the Sydney Film Festival in 1994, and later on the ABC. Colin featured in the documentary as the actor who sang the song about Arthur Stace in a SUDS production (Sydney University). With many thanks to the film-maker, Susan Mackinnon, I’ve obtained a copy of the documentary, and I’m sure this segment will make a wonderful contribution to the tribute.
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Hope they’ve caught the bastard. I’ll ‘old ‘im while you ‘it ‘im.
Hope they’ve caught the bastard. I’ll ‘old ‘im while you ‘it ‘im.