One of the really terrific parts of my job is that I get to meet some really interesting people who I would otherwise not meet in my normal day to day life.
Such is the case of Michael K. Chin. He’s a composer and DJ from Sydney who appeared at Parramasala on the weekend. He is doing some really interesting collaborative work with photographers. I like his music very much, and I like the way in which the music and the still images from the photographers he works with combine so well.
This first track is just fantastic on so many levels. Musically, it’s very interesting. Photographically, there’s much to engage.
The story behind the female vocal in the second clip is also interesting. She’s a Japanese friend of Michael’s who came to visit him in Australia. The song she sings is a song she learned to help her learn to speak English.
Closer to home, I really love this project he worked on about Hyde Park.
“All we’re asking is that you don’t applaud the Premier when he speaks…” a woman whispered in my ear, as my friend Kate and I entered the Art Gallery of NSW tonight. We were there for the opening of one of the hottest exhibitions in town: the retrospective exhibition of the works of Francis Bacon, which NSW Premier, Barry O’Farrell was expected to open. The likely presence of Mr O’Farrell was why about 150-200 had gathered outside to protest funding cuts by the NSW Government to TAFE courses in fine arts.
TAFE Art Cuts Protest outside AGNSW
As I listened in to the conversations of people standing nearby, lots of people were speculating out loud about whether or not Mr O’Farrell would turn up. Shortly into his welcoming speech, the AGNSW Director, Michael Brand told us NSW Arts Minister, George Souris would be opening the exhibition. He made no reference or comment about Mr O’Farrell. The room erupted with a chuckle and a guffaw.
Introducing the exhibition, theatre director and producer, Jim Sharman delivered a wonderful speech – erudite, humorous, touching – about the life and works of Francis Bacon.
Not long afterwards, Mr Souris made a speech which went largely ignored by the vast majority of people in the room. Although many people at the front listened intently, the vast majority ignored the Minister, talked through his speech, and many even turned their backs as he spoke. While a small group at the front applauded the Minister loudly, the vast majority chose not to, in support of those protesting outside earlier about the TAFE funding cuts.
With the protest over, it was time to wander downstairs to see the Francis Bacon retrospective. Before tonight’s opening I knew very little of his work, except that it was often quite dark. I also knew Bacon, like many of the other people he knew such as Brett Whitley (who painted his portrait twice for the Archibald) had led a rather erratic life. He clearly liked a drink or twenty-five. He obviously took a few drugs. And he apparently had lots of sometimes anonymous gay sex. You really get a sense for what an interesting and wild life he must have led by the photographs of his shambolic artist workspace.
Francis Bacon – Five Decades @ AGNSW
“I’d forget about the forties and fiftes”, I said to a few people tonight, a reference to the “Five Decades” title of the exhibition, adding “his most interesting works were from the 60s”. I thought the works from the fifties, in particular, were dark, uninteresting, and all a little the same. “They were like sketches”, a woman I met tonight called Melissa, added. But by the sixties, he really began to become a master of his craft, with works that were colourful, imaginative, and well executed. My two favourite works were the 1963 “Portrait of Henrietta Moraes” (which apparently slod for £21.3 million at Christie’s in London earlier this year) and 1969’s “Lying Figure”. I thought both works were stunning. As we chatted, Melissa observed “he was never very good at the female figure, though”. Maybe, maybe not.
If, like me, you’re from Lismore (Northern NSW Australia), there’s a good chance you’ll know, or have met someone with the surname Olley. There were Olleys across the road from near where my Aunty Joanie lived. There was an Olley in our year at high school. If fact, there were quite a few members of the Olley family throughout Richmond River High School. But the most famous member of the family is, without doubt, Margaret Olley, the Australian artist.
Though born in Lismore, she spent most of her life in Sydney. When I, too, moved to Sydney in the mid 90s, I would often see her at art exhibitions and talks around the city. In 2006, for example, I remember seeing her at a talk, where I described her as “a rather eccentric woman in her eighties with the funkiest walking frame ever, complete with “bike bell” and “horn” to alert people to when she was coming through.”
As we sat and waited for a talk about Margaret Olley’s life, held this afternoon at Sydney’s S.H. Ervin Gallery, we got chatting to the woman sitting next to us on the couch. She, too, looked pretty funky. Probably in her 70s, she wore colourful glasses, and had a few stories about travelling around Australia as an artist and photographer.
“He’s from Lismore, so it’ll be interesting to hear his perspective on things”, she said. She was referring to the recently appointed CEO of the National Art School, Steven Alderton, who was giving today’s talk, and who formerly ran the Lismore Regional Art Gallery.
In a light-bulb moment, we told the woman next to us we were also from Lismore, and soon discovered she was too. Small world, eh. We continued to chat about our shared North Coast history, and then she added “The ice problem up there is terrible, especially at Casino”. Yes, indeed.
CEO of the National Art School, Steven Alderton, who was giving today’s talk, and who formerly ran the Lismore Regional Art Gallery.
A stark contrast, I thought to the kind of upbringing Margaret Olley would have enjoyed, living on a farm at a place called “Green Pigeon”, near Nimbin, “Have you heard of that?”, I asked my friend Sue who was with me, who grew up in Nimbin. She hadn’t and so, thanks to Google Maps, we quickly established it was probably closer to Kyogle, near Lillian Rock, if anything. Even now, it would be a good 45 minutes by car from the centre of Lismore. Heaven knows how long it must have taken them back in the 1920s and 1930s. Perhaps that’s why she was sent to boarding school in Brisbane during her high school years.
“She was very much a country woman”, Steven explained, as he related stories around her upbringing. “You would go to town on a Saturday, walk around the block in Lismore, and you would pretty much see everyone you needed to”, he said. Believe me, it was still like that during my upbringing in the 1970s and 1980s.
As she approached the end of her life, there was talk about establishing the Margaret Olley Arts Centre at Lismore, as a much needed replacement for the Regional Art Gallery. Though she was willing to leave $1-million towards the construction, the Lismore City Council had competing priorities, meaning the money went instead towards the Tweed Regional Gallery at Murwillumbah. Without going into too much detail, Steven explained some of the politics involved, and that Lismore’s Mayor (until recently), Jenny Dowell had been incredibly supportive. Though tempted to stay and chat, and learn more about the politics of it all (bloody curious journos!!), we left it at that, enjoyed the talk very much, and instead wandered on home.
“He’s conscious!“, were the first words that came out of my neighbour’s mouth when she, some other friends, and eight emergency service workers made their way into my apartment.
I’d missed an important work deadline. As a result, friends and family were concerned about my welfare, and when they knocked on my door, without response, they called the police.
As a journalist for several decades, I’m pretty good at meeting deadlines. Each weekend, I do three hours of pre-recorded radio. I don’t recall if I actually completed the programs for the weekend, but when I missed the deadline to send them through, there were concerned phone calls and emails, and finally a call to the police.
Drama in the back laneway
Since arriving back from Cambodia and Vietnam, I had been feeling unwell. I’d put it down to general illness, or maybe COVID. More seriously, an infection was taking over my body, and in particular my foot. The infection on my foot became gangrenous, and eventually led to a below-the-knee amputation.
Having a nap at St Vincent’s Hospital, Sydney
My nieces and an “army” of other friends have been amazing throughout this, with both emotional and practical support. Such deep love and commitment.
I’m grateful to be alive, and I’m looking forward to the future. More posts to follow, of course.
“I’m not sure I’d like to spend an evening over a few bottles of wine with him”, I joked to my friend, as we chatted over dinner, having seen Paul Capsis perform earlier in the night.. The musical universe he occupies is very sad. That said, I LOVE sad tunes, the melancholy, and so I’m probably just as sad in my musical tastes, and probably just as sad as someone to spend their time with.
Paul is a remarkable performer, in cabaret, theatre, and film. You might also know Paul from his performances in a range of movies, including “Head On” and “Carlotta” https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0135697/
A lot of people describe themselves as “fluid” these days, in terms of gender and sexuality, but as Paul commented at the show, “I’m not fluid, I’m a flood”. The last time I’d seen him perform was only a few years ago, but as Paul rightly noted a long time ago, a lot has happened since then.
Friday night’s performance, at “The Song Company” featured some of his favourite/influential music, from the works of Brecht/Weill to Elton John. Though a couple of years older than me, I connected strongly with the songs he chose. “Cabaret”, for example which Paul performed recently as the MC, has been strongly influential in my life.
The song by Elton John, “Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word” (performed beautifully by Paul) is one of my all-time-favorite-songs due to its very honest lyric. There were moments, as we listened to Paul when I felt so incredibly sad. The lyrics of the songs chosen were so beautiful. And the minor tone. I love a minor tone! There were also moments of comedy and intrigue. For example, the lyrics for “Mack The Knife” was updated to include contemporary Sydney. Who was the rapist and the misogynist Paul referred to in the updated lyrics?
As my friend and I chatted over dinner, we reflected on the melancholy in his work. Dinner, by the way, was at Lavana Tapas which we both highly recommend.
First, the good news: there was only one song which I thought was absolutely bloody awful in the second heat of Melodifestivalen, the contest which chooses Sweden’s entry for the Eurovision Song Contest. Maybe it was too early on a Sunday morning for me, but 100% by Viktor och Natten did absolutely nothing for me. For me, it was rushed and confused. I couldn’t work out what exactly they were hoping to achieve with this song. Clearly, Sweden agreed with me, as the song was voted out.
Now, the bad news: there was nothing in the second heat which grabbed my attention. Sure, there were some pretty good songs. For example, I really liked “We Are Your Tomorrow” by David Lindgren (through to the final) and “Hunger” by Molly Petterson Hammar (through to the second chance final). Surprisingly, I also really liked “Håll mitt hjärta hårt” by Patrik, Tommy and Uno. I say surprisingly, because I thought the idea of a bunch of mid 40s blokes who looked more like songwriters than performers, seemed a little weak, and would have little chance of making it through to represent Sweden at Eurovision, but the song and performance were pretty good. They didn’t make it through, though.
And I guess that’s my point about Melodifestivalen so far this year: there’s nothing so far which I think has “winner” stamped all over it. I’m sure there’ll be a song/performance which may be worthy of consideration, though. Fingers crossed.
At least they’re doing well with the presenters this year. Gina was great, and Charlotte was, well, Charlotte was Charlotte (and that’s a good thing). Mother and daughter?
Conscious that I sometimes share material on other platforms that never makes “the cut” here on my blog, I will start sharing a few bits and pieces here also. These are the tweets, posts, and observations that still seem relevant at the end of each month. Lots of ephemera, but hopefully still quite entertaining.
October 12 : This came in the mail today. You can take the boy out of Lismore…October 13 : This is opening only metres from my home. Very excited.
October 14 : Priorities!
October 14 : The vibe amongst people I’ve spoken to is this: “Even if Gladys knew everything, can’t we forgive her/postpone it for a couple of years? Everyone else is so totally hopeless…”
October15 : Google Maps tells me all of the different cities I’ve visited this week.October 16 : Apparently there IS a difference between coffee in Sydney and Melbourne. Spotted this at Coles tonight. It’s on a special. Of course I bought the Sydney. Ler’s see how it goes.October 19 : It’s amazing what you discover in a suit you’ve worn for the first time since March. A towelette from KFC. Very handy in these COVID times. Awesome day yesterday with my colleagues from #abcpride
October 24 : Overheard at the bottleshop, two young men. 1 : Do you think she’s pretty? 2.: Yeah 1: Do you think shes a lesbian? 2 : Yeah, yeah. 1: Yeah, its the art gallery thing. The other person in the queue, who I assumed was a lesbian, and I smiled and rolled our eyes.
October 25 : Some family photos from today’s storm in Brisbane (Holland Park).
October 26 : Getting NBN installed, and so I will soon have a home phone again. I’ve just emailed the two people likely to call me on it.
October 31 : Just ran into someone I know who is a former LNP staffer (for a fairly conservative federal MP) “God help the world if Trump is re elected” he said. Thinking it must be a fairly extreme part of the LNP who would want his success
October 31 : Watching the QLD election on ABC News. Though from Northern NSW, there’s a fair bit of Queensland in me.October 31 : Yeah, yeah, yeah I know I should reflect on his talents as an actor, and for all of the wonderful things he did in his life, and blah blah blah… But hey, he was also a total hottie. #callmeshallow
