The New Stockholm
I hope this is helpful if you’re ever planning to visit Stockholm. I appeared earlier tonight on ABC Local Radio’s “Nightlife” with Tony Delroy, in his “Travel Spot” talking about Stockholm.
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Swedish Takeover
For the most part I “ignore” most Facebook Group and Application invitations. “By agreeing to install this application you agree to share all of your information and those of your friends”.. blah blah blah.. just screams information harvesting to me. But tonight I came across a Facebook Group that actually makes a lot of sense to me. It’s called, “I don’t mind if the Swedes take over Australia“.
Think about how good this would be…
* We would finally get an efficient and clean public transport system.
* The Australian Republican Movement would wither on the vine, as we would finally have a Royal Family that was well-liked and respected.
* We’d get to see Melodifestivalen on the ABC every year. And not forgetting Allsang pa Skansen
* We would get H&M instead of K-Mart.
* We would never go to war again. etc, etc, etc
But it’s not just good for us. For the Swedes, it would mean…
* Somewhere nice to spend winter.
* A dramatic increase from 9 million to 30 million in the number of people who spoke Swedish.
* They would finally get an insight into the mindset of a people that became obsessed with ABBA, etc, etc, etc,
Frankly… I can’t see a downside.
Stockholm Metro Art, Tunnelbana
I love how the Swedish subway is more than just advertising. As you’ll see elsewhere on the internet
The Stockholm subway system is said to be the world’s longest art exhibit – 110 kilometers long.Traveling by subway is like traveling through an exciting story that extends from the artistic pioneers of the 1950s to the art experiments of today. Over 90 of the 100 subway stations in Stockholm have been decorated with sculptures, mosaics, paintings, installations, engravings and reliefs by over 150 artists. The Kungsträdgården subway station looks like an archaeological excavation, with the remains of the old Stockholm Makalös palace. At Östermalmstorg the artist Siri Derkert highlights women’s rights and peace and environmental issues.
As well as that more “permanent art”, you can also see temporary exhibitions.
For example, I’m especially pleased “my local station”, Mariatorget, is currently exhibiting some terrific photographic/visual works by a Swedish artist, Helene Schmitz. With works from The Linneaus Project (another famous Swede), and The Carnivores, the metro is really brightened by these beautiful, and yet strange images of plants.
When you’re waiting for the tunnelbana, it’s great there’s something more to look at than just advertisements for mobile phone plans.
Life is a cabaret
I don’t remember exactly when I first saw the movie “Cabaret”, but it must have been when I was in my early teens (late 1970s). As a young “soon-to-be” gay boy living in a country town, it was life-changing.
I’ll never forget the scene when it was revealed Brian Roberts “liked men”. It was such an affirming scene for me at such a young age. I then went on to develop a huge crush on the actor playing the role, Michael York.
And of course, there was Liza Minelli in the role of Sally Bowles. I’d already known about Liza through her mother, Judy Garland who I absolutely adored. How could I be anything but gay with such an instinctive cultural pedigree?
And then there was the storyline, set in the Weimar republic years in Germany, as the NAZIs were coming to power. I studied German all the way through to the HSC, along with Modern History, and so my interest in that storyline was heightened.
I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve seen the movie since. However, I don’t think I’ve ever seen “Cabaret” on the big screen before, and that’s part of why tonight’s screening was so special.
As I listened to the response of my fellow cinema-goers, it was pretty obvious they were all fans of the movie too. Everyone knew the famous lines and often laughed out loud before the sentence was finished.
And of course, the thing about seeing these cinema classics now is that the digital “print” is so good. You see none of the imperfections you might have seen when it screened at cinemas back in the 1970s.
The memorable moment when the member of the Hitler Youth led the beer garden crowd in a rendition of “Tomorrow belongs to me” moved me tonight, as much as it did when I first saw it. In fact, a tear rolled down my cheek, as I thought about life then and now.
Over the last few years I’ve become increasingly worried we’re in similar times to that of the 1920s/1930s. The rise of fascism. The scapegoating of groups within society.
The personal issues, too. In 1920s Germany, there was a lot of open-mindedness around sexuality. Though things are probably a little more advanced in many parts of the world these days, there’s still a feeling that we could easily revert back to less tolerant times.
And of course, the music by Kander and Ebb and the performances by Joel Gray and Liza Minelli are awesome.
The story of “Cabaret” is based on the largely biographical works of Christopher Isherwood. The story was then turned into a play, and then into a musical.
And there’s the signature song. Who could not agree with the sentiment?
I used to have this girlfriend known as Elsie
Songwriters: John Kander / Fred Ebb
With whom I shared four sordid rooms in Chelsea
She wasn’t what you’d call a blushing flower
As a matter of fact she rented by the hour
The day she died the neighbors came to snick her
Well, that is what comes from too much pills and liquor
But when I saw her laid out like a queen
She was the happiest corpse I’d ever seen
I think of Elsie to this very day
I remember how she’d turned to me and say
“What good is sitting”
“All alone in your room?”
“Come hear the music play”
“Life is a cabaret, old chum”
“Come to the cabaret”
After tonight’s cinema screening, I think I’ll watch it again sometime soon.
My Favourite Album
There have only been a couple of occasions in my life when I’ve found my musical tastes have matched up with my peers. My earliest and strongest musical influence was probably “Young Talent Time”. I absolutely adored that program and, in particular, had a special place in my heart for Jamie Redfern. In what was undoubtedly a sign of things to come, I discovered many years later that in Kindergarten, I had scrawled “I love Jamie Redfern” on my pencil case. Yes, seriously.
And then for a couple of years, I kept up with the charts, with “Explosive Hits 75” being a particular favourite album. Even though it contained popular hits such as Sherbet’s “Summer Love”, I was probably more attracted to Al Martino’s “To The Door Of The Sun” and Gilbert Becaud’s “A Little Love And Understanding”, instantly labelling me to my peers as a musical outsider. I mean, I had the posters of Sherbert (without their shirts on) plastered all over my wall, but I guess (again in hindsight) it may have been for other reasons.
And so I guess it wasn’t until the ABBA explosion of 1975-1976 that my musical tastes actually matched with my peers. Quite vividly I remember bringing along my copies of “Arrival” & “The Best Of ABBA’ to be played on the record player during lunch break, at a time when the world was divided between ABBA fans and “Bay City Rollers” fans. And then, of course, it all went pear-shaped for ABBA in Australia, with just a few of us remaining as ABBA fans.
At about this time I discovered Peter Allen, Barbra Streisand, Liza Minelli and Judy Garland (yeah, the writing was on the wall wasn’t it?), further demonstrating just how out of touch I was with my peers. While they were listening to Sunnyboys & Midnight Oil, I was discovering show tunes and the avante garde pop sounds of Yazoo, Eurythmics and Grace Jones.
And then I went to university and discovered dance music, with the likes of “Dead or Alive”, “Man To Man”, “Paul Lekakis” and various other European disco artists, providing a soundtrack which I could actually share with my peers. Mind you, a fair percentage of my friends at university were also deeply into “The Riptides” (later Ganggajang) and “The Go-Betweens” popular bands at the time.
In the period since then I haven’t really cared about the musical taste of my peers. I’ve just gone through life happily enjoying the music that I do, covering a broad spectrum of genres and artists.
But once again tonight, I was reminded about how out of touch I am with my peers when it comes to music. I’ve just finished watching My Favourite Album and was more than a little disappointed. Unlike last year’s “My Favourite Movie”, it would appear those who voted this year represent a very narrow percentage of the population. I’m guessing most of those who voted were aged 35-45 males. But isn’t that me? Well, yeah, but while I have broad musical tastes and don’t really care what others think, I’m guessing most of those who voted tonight read serious “music magazines” and like “serious rock”.
As Renee Geyer pointed out, there were no Australians, no women (five out of 100 albums had female vocalists) and no black performers in the Top 10. Instead, we had the usual suspects of white American male singer-songwriters and guitar-based rock bands. A boring, predictable list, IMHO.
Sticky and Sneezy
“That’s because it’s such a disgusting and filthy place”, was the explanation offered by an inter-state colleague on the phone today, when I mentioned there was a bit of a pollution health warning on the radio this morning.
Although I’ve previously thought it might have been the spring clean I did at home on the weekend which led to my current case of hay fever, the news has confirmed my experience is much broader.
A health alert has been issued for some Sydneysiders to avoid outdoor exercise because of high pollution levels.
The Bureau of Meteorology says today’s air quality in Sydney is poor.
Children and those with breathing difficulties, such as asthma, are particularly at risk.
Although I’m feeling much better today than I was yesterday, I still feel a bit crook.
“I’m a bit of a hippie when it comes to this kind of thing” has been a recurrent comment I’ve made today as colleagues have suggested various drugs to deal with hayfever. “I’d rather my body dealt with it itself”, I’ve told them, as I honestly believe the human body is quite a resilient beast. My approach, rightly or wrongly, has been lots of fluids and lots of rest, and to let my body “heal itself”.
And generally speaking, this approach works, as I’m generally a fairly healthy person. It’s ages since I’ve had any major health problem, and the last time that happened, it required surgery. That’s one case where I don’t believe in letting my body “heal itself”. “Give me major pain control and whack it out”, was my attitude then.
In contrast, a bit of a sneeze is minor. Anyway, I’m sure it will all be fine, once the pollution clears.
Aside from that though, it’s been a pretty good day, especially at work.
In the midst of it all, I also had a chat on the phone with Damien who arrives back in Sydney on Saturday. Time flies? He’s currently in Beijing and having a great time.
It’s pretty cold there, as you might imagine, in stark contrast to Sydney. As I went for a walk down the street tonight, I couldn’t help but notice how sticky and yucky it is. I’m sitting here now with the balcony door open and there’s absolutely no breeze.
Generally speaking, I love Sydney in the summer, but right now, I gotta say, it could be better.
Finding My Footing in Luleå
There was a truly hilarious moment today when I realised just how much of a fish out of water I am: my wheelchair got stuck in the snow. I’ve flown up to Luleå in the north of Sweden, and throughout this trip, I’ve been using wheelchair support to navigate the airports. Usually, the terminals are massive and confusing, and with the added complexity of security checks for my prosthetic limb and hip, the assistance just makes the journey so much smoother.
Luleå is the most remote stop on this trip—a municipality of about 80,000 people on the far north coast, only about 90 minutes from the Finnish border. It’s a part of the world where the lakes and rivers literally freeze over for months, and daylight is a rare commodity. The hour-long flight from Stockholm was spectacular; as we descended over the coast, I realised the vast expanse of white below wasn’t land, but the frozen ocean. The line between earth and sea is completely blurred this far north. It was absolutely stunning.
Upon landing, a young man met me to assist with the trek to the terminal. We walked down a few stairs onto the tarmac, which was blanketed in snow. He started pushing me, but the chair struggled immediately in the deep powder. I offered to walk—I can manage that distance—but he was persistent, and we eventually crunched our way inside.
I was greeted by my friend and colleague, Carrie. She’s a fascinating mix—half Swedish, half Australian. She lived in Australia for 15 years, which seems impossible to me; the time has flown. She eventually fell in love, and her partner moved back to Sweden with her.
We spent the day sightseeing, starting with a visit to the local recycling centre. The Swedes do recycling on a scale that puts us to shame; it’s not just bins for cans and bottles, but massive hubs for clothes and everything else imaginable. Afterwards, we drove around the area. Everything is a blinding, flat white. We visited the harbour, which was being prepped for a big festival where people ice-skate over immense distances.
Walking on the ice and snow is a challenge with my disability, but I discovered the kick-sled. For me, it functioned like a Nordic walking frame. You’re supposed to put one foot on a blade and kick with the other, which I obviously can’t do, but using it for stability made me feel incredibly mobile and confident.
We also dropped by Carrie’s workplace—a local radio station. It was a “busman’s holiday” moment, seeing a station operating in a format so similar to my crew at the ABC. Despite the distance, the role in the community and the staff energy felt exactly like home. They’re currently in the thick of Winter Olympics coverage. We paused for a coffee and a kanelbulle (cinnamon bun) before heading to Gammelstad.
Gammelstad is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and we stepped into a 15th-century Lutheran church just as one baptism was ending and another was beginning. I saw a woman running through the snow carrying a baby who looked absolutely frozen! The highlight, however, was the “church town”—hundreds of tiny red cottages nestled in the snow. It was overwhelmingly beautiful. We drove back over the frozen river and through forests where the trees were bowing under the weight of the snow. I felt like a child; I was beside myself with excitement at an environment so alien to the Australian Outback.
Later, I ventured out independently while Carrie rested. Luleå’s shopping district is fairly standard for a country town, but I enjoyed a quiet coffee before navigating the bus system back to Carrie’s. I’m not entirely sure I paid—the driver said something in Swedish, I tapped my card (I think?), and he let me on. When I hopped off 15 minutes later, I was momentarily lost—every house looks identical when covered in white! Thankfully, I heard a voice call out, “James, I’m here!” and Carrie guided me home.
The evening ended with a dinner party with several of Carrie’s colleagues from Swedish radio and TV. They were a lovely, eclectic group. The highlight of the night was the Melodifestivalen (Mello) fever. Even in the middle of a sophisticated dinner conversation, the intensity of interest in the Eurovision heats was incredible. Everything stopped so we could watch the final entries and the voting. They seemed genuinely shocked that an Australian knew as much about the contest details as they did.
The Swedes really do love their Mello. A perfect end to a day in the deep north.