Belvoir Street Theatre has a warning in their publicity for “Radiance” that it may raise issues for people who have experienced sexual assault. “OK, a bit grim”, I thought, but I was still really keen to see the play, as I’d heard so many good things about it over so many years. I also knew there was a movie based on the play, which I’d read was Rachael Perkin’s feature film. But I’d never seen it, so I didn’t know too much about the play. But I really liked the sound of the play, and I was really keen to see the cast: the amazing Leah Purcell, and two actors I’d come to know through the wonderful film, The Sapphires: Shari Sebbens and Miranda Tapsell.
Without giving away too much of the plot, the play concerns three women (half sisters) who come together for their mother’s funeral. One of the daughters had been living and caring for their mother through dementia, having previously worked as a nurse. There’s a couple of really upsetting descriptions of the mother’s experience with dementia, by the way. Another had been living a wonderfully casual life, with no real career, and was pretty fond of spending time with a lot of men. You soon discover, she’s probably the most similar to her mother. The oldest was a world-famous opera singer who had been living overseas for a number of years, and although she had “sent money home” to her family, hadn’t had all that much contact with her sisters.
Leah Purcell in Radiance at Belvoir Street
At the heart of the play is how they confront some of their family secrets and myths with tears and laughter. There were moments in the play when we laughed out loud, side-splitting humour. There’s a scene with a vacuum cleaner which is both hilarious and wonderfully dark. There’s also a moment in the play which had me in tears, almost on the verge of sobbing. There were a couple of occasions when I almost had to get up and leave. How embarrassing would that be? And what a terrible diversion it would have been to the experience of others enjoying the play. That said, a bloke sitting in front of us looked around as if to say “are you okay?”. I pulled it together, though I left the theatre with red eyes.
It’s a wonderful play. I’d highly recommend it, and this production was excellent.
It’s Monday afternoon and it’s a public holiday in Sydney. , although I’ve just spent a few hours at work. I also really enjoyed having a beer at the pub on the way home, since it’s a stinking hot day in Sydney. At the time of writing, I think it’s already in the 30s, meaning that summer is well on the way, as typified by the emergence of the leaves on the Plane Trees in my street. The last week or so has been quite busy and quite social. But to other things first…
Do you know how hard it is to be removed from an email list? Last year in Perth, I joined a couple of organisations which had an email distribution list. 11 months after leaving Perth, I’m still getting their crap.
And so on Thursday night, I wrote to them saying I know it can be hard running an email list… but honestly… I am writing to you once again asking you to remove me from your distribution list.
The first time I wrote was in January, soon after leaving Perth. I have used the unsubscribe function and I have written to this address on three or four occasions now, asking for my address to be removed from your list. And still I receive them…
As a result of your inaction, I have added you to my ISP’s list of Spam Providers. If I receive any more emails, I will write to the Telecommunications Industry Ombudsman detailing the correspondence. How’s that? By the way, I haven’t received an email to acknowledge this, so I’m just wondering if next month I’ll still be receiving their rubbish.
Over the last week, I’ve been out for a meal or two and a drink or two, but probably the biggest highlight was this weekend when my friend Patrick drove up from Canberra. On Saturday night we went to see Elaine Paige at the Sydney Opera House. And of course, she started with an encore! Yes, Elaine Paige came to the stage of the Sydney Opera House with the kind of song she’d normally be asked to come back to perform. In fact, when I think about it, most of the night’s songs were the kind of song you’d perform as an ecore.
”Yes, it’s like this every day”, my friend David told me with a certain disdain on his face. As I looked around the carriage most of the other passengers seemed to have the same look on their faces, as a group of buskers started playing music in our carriage. Although it was the first time I’ve experienced it, apparently it’s quite common on the Paris metro to have musical buskers in your carriage.
I wasn’t sure, though, if the locals genuinely disliked their peaceful trip on the metro being interrupted, or if they just didn’t want to make eye contact with the buskers, just in case they felt obliged when the hat was passed around.
With well known tunes like “Take Five” and “Those Were The Days”, I couldn’t help but hum along silently to the piano accordian, the trumpet and the boom box which seemed to appear from absolutely nowhere. After the third or fourth time this happened, though, and as especially as the musicians got progressively worse and worse, I began to understand a little of the frustration many Parisiens must feel.
Deep down, though, I still think it’s quite charming. And I guess it says a lot of good things about the French that they would allow something like this to flourish, when in many other parts of the world (including Sydney and London), you’d have the transit police trying to stamp it out.
The other thing I noticed on the metro today, and commented to David about, was that I really like the informal way in which people touch each other. Back in Sydney, if you saw three young blokes sitting together on a train, they’d be at opposite ends of their bench seats trying to avoid any physical contact. Here, however, it’s not been uncommon to see young men have close physical contact with each other. And not in “that kind of way”…
We spent a fair bit of time on the trains today as we travelled from David’s village, which is located about eighty kilometres south of Paris.
First there was the car trip, though, through the glorious countryside, as we made our way to Fontainebleu to catch the train.
Château de Fontainebleau
Fontainbleu is the main town in David’s area with lots of shops, a national horse-racing centre, and what was once a French Imperial Castle. The castle is pretty impressive, and David couldn’t stop from commenting about how much work had been done to improve the castle’s inside and outside. As a place to visit, it’s really quite good, with terrific gardens which actually afford you a view inside the house into rooms you can’t otherwise enter.
Arriving in Paris, we came straight to Montclair where I checked into my accommodation. It’s a nice enough place, with the only apparent downside being having to lug my suitcase up six flights of stairs. And although fairly basic, it has a terrific view and it’s located in a really nice part of the city. I had to laugh, though, when I booked in tonight behind a young American woman who was travelling with six pieces of luggage (one backpack, one suitcase and four handbags). The bloke behind the counter was quite clear in telling her there was no way she could have that much luggage in a dormitory room. And, she’s also on the sixth floor!
After a bite to eat, a visit to the toilet (David went to what I labelled the Voulez Vous toilet because of the resemablance it bears to the cover of an ABBA CD), and a wander around a record store, we began our “Day Of Death”.
The first stop was the Catacombs of Paris where six million Parisiens are buried in a mass-grave underneath the city. “Are you at all claustrophobic?”, David said to me as we walked down the stairs and through the walkway. Although I do suffer a little claustrophobia, I hadn’t actually thought of it until he mentioned it, and then I began to have just a moment when I began to wonder if it was such a good idea to go under-ground to look at a bunch of dead Parisiens.
Catacombs of ParisCatacombs of ParisCatacombs of Paris
As you go under-ground, however, you begin to loose track of both time and place, and any sense of claustrophobia I had quickly disappeared. It’s as peaceful as any other graveyard you might encounter, except here you see literally millions and millions of bones and skulls laid upon top of each other. Everywhere you look there are bones, though I didn’t really feel any great sense of “death”, possibly because the bones are organised so neatly. Perhaps this was why so many people going through the catacombs were failing to recognise the space as the final resting place of real human beings? Or maybe they were just disrespectful?
We also went to Basilique Saint-Denis which is final resting place of most of the French Royal family, with many of those buried there dating back to the sixth century. Located within a “very Catholic” cathedral, you see the tombs of every French royal you might want to imagine.
Basilique Saint-DenisTourists inspect the dead at Basilique Saint-DenisLes InvalidesAnd then late this afternoon, we went to the final resting place of Napoleon Bonaparte, Les Invalides. As it was late, we didn’t actually go in, but it was great to walk around the building and to enjoy the atmosphere.Nearby there were lots of people walking around, playing soccer, and generally enjoying the sunshine. A great day.
And so here it is, my final Saturday night in Europe before I return home. Next Saturday night I’ll be in Hong Kong. And although I could go out and enjoy a bit of Paris nightlife, I can’t be bothered. At the end of this long trip, I’m feeling quite tired. Still, I have another three days in Paris, and there are lots of adventures still to be had. Tonight, though, I think it’s just me and my computer and a bit of French tele.
Normally on NYE there would be two or three parties in my apartment block (of 32). But last night, as we’re in COVID-lockdown in Sydney, there was barely a peak from my neighbours. The only neighbourly noise I heard was from a group of people walking down the street at about 1.00am. They were on their way home.
Going home at 1.00am? Gosh, I remember going out with friends on NYE and arrving home on January 3rd. I was much younger then. These days I much prefer going to bed early. As I listened to ABC Radio (my job) and ABC TV’s coverage of NYE, I struggled to keep my eyes open. (That’s no reflection on the content, just that I was a little tired).
Even today, in the city, there weren’t many people around. I had to go into town to buy a replacement kettle. As I wandered around, I saw small groups of young people, but mostly it was fairly quiet. Even Oxford Street, which would normally be “party central” on New Year’s Day was quiet.
George Street, Sydney
I called in to my local pub, and spoke to the security guard. He’s a big boofy guy from the Pacific Islands who works hard (in a couple of jobs) to support his extended family. “I was in bed by 10.30”, he told me.
I spent a fair bit of the day asleep. It’s been raining on and off, and so the desire to stay in bed has been strong. In between I’ve been watching a few things on Youtube. In particular, I quite like languge podcasts.
“The Swedish Lad” (Martin) has a terrific piece about the new words officially recognised in Sweden this year. Though it’s mostly in Swedish, you’ll be able to follow it, as many of the words are definitely “of the times” and sound like the English language equivalent. It’s worth turning on the subtitles (CC), as you’ll also see descriptions of the words in English. Some of these are words or phrases I’ve never heard before in English. I sent the video to my Swedish teacher, as I thought she might enjoy it. Heaven knows what she’ll think of “kemsex”.
The other language podcast I regularly watch comes from a Canadian bloke who has hundreds of videos about languages. Normally, I really enjoy his work, but was a little disappointed with this one. It’s about 3 or 4 minutes before he acknowledges there was a history of Australia prior to 1788, and even then it’s a very brief mention of some of the MANY words from Indigenous languages that have been absorbed into Australian English. There are literally hundreds and hundreds of words where that’s happened, and I thought it would have been a more interesting path to pursue than to repeating 1950s/1960s cliches about “Barbies” “Chrissy” and “Arvos”.
And then the other thing I’ve been watching today is “I, Claudius”, the classic BBC drama from the 1970s/1980s. I fondly remember watching it during my high school years, and I remember reading the books by Robert Graves.
Although it’s forty years old, it stands up remarkably well. It’s very “theatrical” in style, in the sense it could have been a recording of a stage play, but the script and acting are very good.
It’s Christmas eve… no I think it might be Christmas Day. As you can I see, I am imbued with the spirit of Christmas… or maybe it’s the champagne I bought earlier tonight. Damn damn damn… I bought a small ham at the supermarket earlier tonight and somewhere between the supermarket, the bottleshop and home, I lost it. Anyway, I figure if someone has stolen my Christmas ham while I was getting my champagne at the bottle shop, they probably needed it, and if I was stupid enough to drop it somewhere, it’s my own fault.
Had an interesting discussion today about Christians who don’t celebrate Christmas. On both ends of the Christian spectrum there are people who either see Christmas are too materialistic or too far from the Biblical tradition so that, although they are Christians they don’t celebrate Christmas.
For example, many Christians opposed to Christmas argue that Jeremiah condemns Christmas trees. According to Jeremiah 10:2-4 Thus saith the Lord, Learn not the way of the heathen…. For the customs of the people are vain: for one cutteth a tree out of the forest, the work of the hands of the workman, with the axe. They deck it with silver and with gold; they fasten it with nails and with hammers, that it move not. Other Christians argue Jeremiah is not condemning Christmas trees, He is condemning idolatry and yhe trees in Jeremiah 10 are cut down to carve them into worthless idols that will later be decorated with gold and silver. Jeremiah says nothing about Christmas trees, they argue.
Personally, I think Christmas is okay. As someone explained to me today, Christianity has a great history of appropriating non-Christian celebrations and traditions, turning them into Christian celebrations and traditions. Although I appreciate the essence of the argument – by celebrating what WERE pagan celebrations you may be honoring Satan, not Christ – I’m not sure if it really holds true if you actually spend the day honoring Christ. Anyhoo… it’s obviously a complex issue.
A bloke I spoke to today suggested that with the increasingly secularisation of society, the modern Christmas – with Santa, gift giving etc – may turn into an essentially secular celebration, while many Christians may look for something different in Christmas.
Christmas has truly hit Sydney. This year, for the first time, I have received more “virtual” Christmas Cards than paper ones which is an interesting trend. I also got a mention in someone’s Christmas Letter.
…second big blast form the past was catching up with James O’Brien who did a program on ABBA (my favourite childhood group) on community radio when we were both teenagers. I hadn’t seen him in years since we both went to the same university.. it was cool to catch up and yes, we both still list to ABBA (although I’m more likely to have Moby or Pink on the stereo these days)
James’ involvement in ABBA fandom goes back to his teen years when he ran his own ABBA radio program on a community radio in Lismore, New South Wales. This program, the ABBA SCRAPBOOK, ran for 5 years and eventually lead James to his present career as a radio announcer for ABC Radio Australia. James hosts the “Statewide Drive” program which is heard right throughout New South Wales each day between 4pm and 6pm. James has been a big supporter of ABBAMAIL from the very beginning and has been on our mailing list for more years than he cares to remember. An all-round nice guy, James has impressed many fellow ABBA fans with his warmth, sincerity and down to earth sense of humour. James has been a fixture at ABBAMAIL’s fan events and conventions over the years.
So there… what a way to end the year!
But don’t forget, my “Year In Review” post will appear on December 31.
Though there’s still no apparent “winner” for me in this year’s Melodifestivalen (the Swedish heats which lead to the final where Sweden’s song for Eurovision is chosen) I thought there were some pretty good songs in the third heat. Once again, I woke early, turned on my laptop and television, and settled back to enjoy the tunes from the other side of the world. Gosh, I remember the days when you waited for the DVD release to come through the mail. It’s all so different now. Although there are online previews, and lots of pre-contest online commentary, as with Eurovision, I still like to listen/watch with a fresh set of ears/eyes to Melodifestivalen.
Melodifestivalen always has a few surprises. And this year, it was the re-appearance of drag act, “After Dark”. The creative project of Christer Lindarw, “After Dark” has previously appeared in Melodifestivalen with “La dolce vita” (which actually did pretty well in the competition, finishing third in 2004) and “(Åh) När ni tar saken i egna händer” (“When You Take Things In Your Own Hands” – widely seen as a song about wanking) in 2007. Although I really like “After Dark”, I wasn’t prepared for just how good “Kom ut som en stjärna” (“Come Out Like A Star”) would be. It’s a really great tune, and the performance was excellent. Unfortunately, the song never made it through to the final, reflecting I guess the influence of a younger voting profile, and the increasing presence of those who’ve come up through TV talent competitions. I guess it was just seen as a little “dated”, though I really liked it.
On paper, I really should have liked “You Carved Your Name”. First, it was co-written by Kleerup, and second it was performed by Swingfly feat. Helena Gutarra. But unfortunately it never really did it for me. Instead, I was drawn to “Weight Of The World” by Smilo and “Put Your Love On Me” by Boris René (both great singalong numbers with catchy choruses) and “Human” by Oscar Zia (not the greatest song, but I thought the performance was excellent). On Twitter, I read someone say teenage girls in the arena where the contest was taking place were going crazy for Oscar. In a lounge-room in Sydney, Australia, I was feeling similarly.
Melodifestivalen – Gina plays drums in Bowie Tribute
Melodifestivalen – Smilo sings Weight Of The World
Melodifestivalen – Songwriters for After Dark
Melodifestivalen – Christer Lindarw aka After Dark
Melodifestivalen – Oscar Zia sings Human
In related news, it seems like they’re adopting “The Swedish Model” for Eurovision voting this year. And with Petra and Måns as co-hosts, it’s looking good for this year’s contest in Stockholm. Gosh, I wish I could afford to attend.
