It’s Sunday morning, it’s very warm in Sydney and I’m just reflecting on my latest brush with fame and another week of “Christmas Drinks”.
I had a really nice surprise on Monday night. Actually, it wasn’t a surprise, I just had forgotten about it. A guy who I helped with some advice about a job asked me out to dinner, having now gotten the job he was after. We laughed, joked and chatted about a range of issues, ate some terrific food and drank some lovely wine.
I feel much more festive this year than last, for obvious reasons. Despite the shop decorations in the David Jones window, however, it still doesn’t feel like Christmas. Those childhood feelings of anxiety and excitement are long gone. I don’t really exchange many gifts anymore either. Still, I guess that’s what getting older is all about.
I do, however, like going to Christmas Drinks. On Wednesday night, I was invited to the Premier’s Media Christmas Drinks at Governor Macquarie Tower. There was the usual assortment of media literati and state parliamentarians with the added touch of Geoffrey Robertson, QC. Mr Carr made an amusing speech about the negativity of the media. I also met Helen Carr who seems very nice.
On Friday night, Damien and I went to Christmas Dinner at Pazzo. The food was, as usual very good, and Damien brought along a NZ Pinot he bought when he visited there a couple of years ago. After dinner, we went out for a few drinks at the Dolphin Hotel. In playing pool, we met a group of hilarious guys. They were both funny haha AND funny mad. They showed us pictures of their children, provided an elaborate critique of Radio National and 702, and one of the guys went on with an elaborate routine that he was a black gay man. I guess you had to be there.
Last night, Damo and I went to the opening of an exhibition at the Museum of Sydney about the desire and promise of the unknown inspired by the extraordinary voyages of J S C Dumont d’Urville. Like his hero Captain James Cook, Dumont d’Urville journeyed three times to the Southern Seas. His two voyages in command, 1826-1829 and 1837-1842 were the zenith of French maritime exploration, colonial ambition and scientific endeavour.
We were just there for the French champagne. Unfortunately, although the exhibition was about a French explorer and it was opened by the French ambassador, there was not a drop of French champagne in sight. Hmmm. On arrival we were presented with a lei, in keeping with the South Pacific theme of the night.
Archibald Prize – Margaret Whitlam
And I became best friends with Margaret Whitlam!
During the opening speeches, I was leaning against the wall, watching the proceedings when all of a sudden a face and voice appeared asking, “Do you mind if I borrow your wall”? It was Margaret Whitlam, the iconic wife of the former Australian Prime Minister. “If I don’t lean against a wall these days I fall over”, she said. When I replied, “Yes, I have the same problem”, she laughed.
After a little while, someone asked Mrs Whitlam if she would like a chair and if she would like to sit with Mr Whitlam. She said something like, “Oh, I’ll have the chair, but I’ll be fine here thank you”.
So we stood there with Margaret Whitlam on the chair in front of me. She became my new best friend with her witty remarks and wry observations about the ceremony underway. When a group of dancers came out with elaborate headgear, she commented, “Oh I wish they’d given us all those when we came in. Of course, you’d have difficulty keeping it on your head without sticking plaster”.
During the kava-drinking ceremony, Mrs Whitlam observed that it “tastes like dirty dishwater” and thought it was hilarious when Mr Whitlam was given some to drink. “Dishwater”, she said.
She was also amused to discover she had spent 30 years mispronouncing the name of a Tongan King and commented the dancers and singers, “Look more West Samoan than Tongan”.
After a while she and Mr Whitlam went to the book store, leaving her glass behind with a comment, “Can you look after that and make sure they fill it up by the time I get back”? I didn’t actually expect her to return, so I didn’t watch the glass, but when she did return she didn’t appear upset that I had neglected her wish. I asked her if she’d like some more and she replied, “Oh no, thank you… I’m fine”.
At the end of the evening she walked over to Mr Whitlam with the comment, “I’m just off to see what His Highness wants”. Shortly afterwards they left.
We then went for dinner at a French restaurant, Sel et Poivre, the place Colin had taken me for my birthday. The meal I ordered – Braised beef cheeks with Burgundy Sauce – was excellent. Highly recommended.
After dinner, Damo and I went out for a few drinks, which included cocktails at the Arthouse Hotel and beers at the Slip Inn, ending the night with – Damien’s suggestion, not mine – a cheeseburger at McDonalds.
Not much planned for the day, except writing my “year in review” which will appear here on December 31.
Wandering up to meet my friend John at Taylor Square (we ended up having a beer at the Bentley Bar) this afternoon I couldn’t help but notice the beautiful sunlight streaming down through the trees on Albion Street.
Yes i know it hardly compares with the rainforests of Northern NSW or the outback, but it’s not bad. It’s a really beautiful time of the year in Sydney, especially with the late afternoon gentle light evident in this photograph.
I’m having a day where the weather has matched my mood. It started off fine and sunny, but somehow ended up a little shitty.
Waiting for a bus at Circular Quay, and getting my recently dry-cleaned suit wet, wasn’t exactly how I thought I’d end the day.
When I woke this morning it was sunny and very pleasant. In fact, I went to work – deliberately – without a jacket. And as I looked around the city today and noticed people wearing thick scarves – honestly, it’s the second of August – I felt a slight level of scorn.
As the day progressed, I became increasingly grumpy. There were a few things today which kinda annoyed me, and actually took me most of the day, and some the night, to recover from.
In fact, the grumpiness continued into the night, and took quite some time to overcome. I guess it happens to everyone whose life and work merge somewhat? As I long as I’ve had a job, the line between both has been blurred. I guess it’s because my job is “about life” in many ways, or at least that’s how I rationalise things, I guess.
Helpmann Awards Finalists
But in the midst of it all, there was a bright spot: I went to the announcement tonight at the Opera House of the finalists for this year’s Helpmann Awards.
The Helpmann Awards is the annual awards celebration for live performance in all its forms. Thus tonight’s announcement of finalists included everything from pop concerts to opera.
Some years at the Helpmann Awards you actually get a little bored, as the same show seems to come up again and again. This year, there are some repeat finalists, but there’s also quite a few unexpected ones too. And quite a variety in the selection of finalists, which I think is a good thing. There’s a report here about who’s in and who’s out this year.
Best of all this year? There’s a cabaret category for the first time, and the host is David Campbell. Campbell conceded he’s following in the footsteps of some great performers, including Jonathan Biggens who has been terrific over the last few years.
After a bit of a shitty day, it was nice to attend something with such a degree of happiness and optimism.
Aside from that, it’s a cold, wet night in Sydney tonight. After a glamorous early evening, I’m at home wearing my jarmies and watching tv.
Oh, and did I mention my tv challenge for the week? I’m trying my best NOT to watch Foxtel this week. I’m trying to see if I can “give it up” now that free digital has improved somewhat. If I can do without it for a week, I’m gonna dump Foxtel. My only weakness so far was succumbing to an episode of “Are You Being Served?”. In the meantime, Madonna is on Letterman, free to air, and so I better go. Cya.
As a long time fan of Frida, aka Anni-Frid Lyngstad or “the dark one” from ABBA, I was really excited when I heard news of the release of this DVD to co-incide with her 60th birthday. I bought it a couple of months ago, watched it from start to finish, and have come back to it on many occasions since then, so I thought it worth writing about.
She’s living mostly in Zermatt in Switzerland, these days, and chose the Matterhorn as the backdrop for a series of reminiscences about her life and career over the past forty years (or so).
And so the DVD chronicles her life and career before, during and after ABBA, ending with a rather wonderful piece about her life now, in which she explains she no longer has an interest in music or performance, choosing to spend her days with friends, enjoying the wondrous Swiss landscape.
As a simple chronology, the DVD goes from reminiscence in front of the mountain, often with an amusing anecdote, to a (usually) high quality piece from the archive. Although many of them I’d seen before, there were also many others I’d never seen.
Frida – The DVD
Although she is sometimes identified as having been a “jazz singer” prior to ABBA, she makes it clear she wasn’t, that she sang “ever greens” and “schlagers” (big blustering Swedish pop songs). And for that reason it was fascinating to see footage from a Swedish television program where she sang classics like “Mad About The Boy” and “My Man”. Although her English language diction is sometimes a little wanting, she sings with a great deal of passion and beauty.
As she reminisces about her work, you clearly get the impression she’s largely happy with the career choices, and musical selections she made, at one point confessing that she never really had a career plan, that it all just happened.
She speaks with fondness about her days with ABBA, but makes it clear that it was also a long time ago, and that she feels that part of her life probably ended with the 30th anniversary of Waterloo a couple of years ago. Mind you, there’s also a lovely anecdote she tells of her step-daughter quite co-incidentally sitting by a pool in Spain next to Agnetha.
By the end of the video (three hours) you are given a sense of a really very beautiful person who has had to deal with some terrible personal tragedies but who has made it through happy and content. The tragedies include the death of her mother when she was two (her father was a German soldier in Norway during World War II and she was born with all of the associated baggage), and the recent deaths of her daughter (in a car accident) and her husband (from cancer). She also also speaks about being “rootless” (a bad translation) meaning she has had to continually find new roots in her life with a degree of wisdom, without any real hint of regret. Mind you, although she mentions some aspects of her private life – the divorces, the death of her husband, her close friends now – she doesn’t mention her early upbringing in any detail (the issue with her father), nor the death of her daughter.
But now, living in Switzerland and hanging out with a small group of friends – we are introduced to Urs and Heinz two obviously gay men – she seems genuinely happy with her life, which is a good thing to be at age 60.
This is really a video for fans only, tho I suspect a shortened version could be of some interest to a wider audience.
It’s an absolutely beautiful summer day in Sydney, though I wasted half of it by sleeping in until lunchtime! Last night, a friend and I went to the Sydney Festvial First Night and had an absolute whale of a time. And then we had a few drinks afterwards, as you do. I seem to recall getting home about 4.00am, or something like that. Despite the rain, it was a terrific night, and I was particularly impressed with the band, Pink Martini which played in Hyde Park. Unfortunately I missed the three weddings on Macquarie Street, as we had dinner – excellent roast lamb and peas – at about that time at Bills in Surry Hills. Fortunately, I was lucky to be invited to attend the Festival Party at Hyde Park Barracks, which was an absolute hoot. Much dancing, chatting and drinks were had.
