Chinese / Lunar New Year (Year Of The Monkey)
On Saturday night, I was fortunate enough to be a +1 for the launch of the Chinese / Lunar New Year celebrations in Sydney. Here are some photographs from the festivities.
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Meeting Magnus
Over the last five years or so I’ve become quite a fan of the Swedish singer, Magnus Carlsson. Not to be confused with Magnus Carlson (one s, not two) from the band, “Weeping Willows”, it’s the dance band and pop singer that I really like.
I first became aware of him when he was a member of Alcazar. Though the story gets a little complex and there are conflicting stories on the public record, but it looks as though he and Alcazar mainstay, Andreas Lundstedt were in a relationship together. And while that relationship lasted, Magnus was a member of the band.
As much as I loved his work with Alcazar, I’m also a great fan of his Swedish language solo album which contains a bunch of my favourite songs by him, especially “Funnit min angel”. As someone learning Swedish, I really appreciate that he has really clear diction, which has allowed me to really enjoy the work and learn a little Swedish along the way.
His performance at Golden Times nightclub in Stockholm was terrific. In about 30-45 minutes (I lost track of time) he sang an extended “medley” of work from throughout his career, including a fair bit of Swedish language material which really went down well with the locals. Obviously, Barbados was a pretty popular band in its time here in Sweden. I was impressed.
Knowing that I was a fan, but also quite a shy person (yes, really), my friend Graeme grabbed him as he came off stage and asked if I could have a photograph with him. “Yes, but let’s do it over by the door”, he said.
With a buzz in my step it wasn’t long before I found myself on the dance floor. “Shall we dance?”, a middle-aged woman who was sitting nearby asked me. I didn’t need much encouragement, as I love to dance. Although it often takes me a while, and a few drinks for me to get on the dance floor, I love to dance, especially to Swedish pop music. Absolute joy.
“Golden Times is a real meat market”, I was later told by a woman living here. And yes, it was true. I think it may have been the Hard Rock Cafe at some point, as the bar was decorated with lots of pop music photographs and memorabilia.
The crowd was overwhelmingly straight, aged between about 20 and 50, and fitted into two categories: those looking for a shag and those looking to dance. Generally, it’s the woman who were looking for a dance and the guys who were looking for a shag. Still, the guys recognised they needed to dance if they were to have the shag. Fairly universal theme eh?
As one of about half a dozen gay men in the bar, I was clearly a “safe option” for a few of the girls who wanted to dance without someone trying to hit on them. Thus, I was asked to dance by three separate women all of whom I’m sure enjoyed the amusement of dancing with a gay bloke from Australia with a love of Swedish pop music, and who knew all of the words to the songs.
My only disappointment with the night was discovering all too late they had karaoke in the downstairs bar. OMG, I would have loved to have done Swedish language karaoke.
Sydney and Central Australia
There are two really wonderful exhibitions currently on display: one featuring art from Central Australia, the other focusing on homelessness in Sydney. Although I quite enjoyed the one about homelessness, it was a new art exhibition which really excited me the most. I’d love to share some images here, but no photography was allowed, and so I’ve shared only the image that was used for the promotion of the exhibition.
The great thing about the exhibition is you get to see the contemporary styles of Indigenous artists. Not every Indigenous artist does “dot painting”, I’ve heard a lot of people say. And it’s true. You go somewhere like Boomalli and you’ll see all kinds of work. But without travelling to Central Australia, you might not often see the incredible variation in the styles of work from artists there.
In this exhibition, my favourite works included the photography of Rhonda Unrupa Dick (which included some screen prints); “Tom Brown Roundabout” by Margaret Book (a modern variation on aerial style Indigenous works) and paintings by Sally Mulda (including a wonderful self-portrait).
We are in Wonder LAND: new experimental art from Central Australia runs until August 15 at UNSW Galleries, Cnr Oxford St & Greens Rd, Paddington
Freshly Ironed Shirt
“What’s it like being back in the office?”, my friend asked me at the pub this afternoon. “It’s exhausting”, I told him. He looked at me a little sceptically. He’s a tradie and, aside from a few weeks in lockdown, has been working all the way through COVID.
I’m well aware of the privilege I’ve enjoyed, having a job where I could work from home, and not being in the position of a number of people I know, of being out of work, thanks to the pandemic
Aside from a few days here and there, I’ve been working from home since March 2020, and I have the shirts to prove it.
As usual, on the weekend before the big lockdown, I dropped some shirts into the dry-cleaner. By the time the lockdown started, I’d only worn one of the freshly ironed shirts. Four of those five ironed shirts have stayed in the wardrobe ever since. But on Monday, I pulled one out, along with a suit I haven’t worn in ages, either.
I’m back in the office full-time for the next month or so. I’m back doing my “old job” at ABC Radio Sydney, filling in between when the previous manager finished, and a new manager starts.
At today’s staff meeting I mentioned that in the 10 or more years between when I last worked there, and now, one thing had remained consistent: “The kitchen is still a mess!” Everyone laughed, and then someone on the Teams call put me on “mute”. We all laughed even harder. Later in the day I acknowledged someone had done the washing up!
Despite previous comments from some well-known politicians that we have spent lockdown “under the doona”, I’ve been working very hard. In fact, I’d say I’ve put in more hours and have been more productive than when I was previously in the office. I think it’s because the lines between work and home have blurred. I wake up in the morning, have some breakfast, and then I’m at work. It’s also been pretty easy to do work at home at night.
Going back into the office means a greater formality. You get up in the morning, you get dressed more formally (no trackie dacks in the office), and then you make your way into work, grabbing a coffee on the way.
And then you login to your computer, chat with a few people about what they’re doing and do the daily 15-minute more formal catch-up on plans for the day,
Then, you need to think about some lunch which usually involves an excursion out of the building. Along the way, people want to discuss things face to face with you. And then it’s 45 minutes or so getting home again.
I don’t want to call it “wasted time”, but there’s certainly a lot of time back in my day when I could have otherwise set aside for other things.
Like, going to the pub, and catching up with my mate. And today is when I mentioned this to him, and also the “emotional energy” involved in chatting to people throughout the day. By nature, I’m quite introspective, and I have really enjoyed the solitariness of working from home. It can be exhausting.
On a very positive note, it’s nice to be able to see people face to face again, instead of at the end of a computer screen.
Big Red
There’s something a little scary about asking for directions in King’s Cross. Anyone you go up to ask for help is either a little scarey themselves, or perhaps thinking you’re looking to ask them for money or sex.
In the end, I asked a bouncer outside a bar if he knew where “The Bootleg Bar” was. He didn’t. I needed to know, because it was where I was meeting a friend tonight for dinner and a drink. It’s a great bar/restaurant and one I’d highly recommend. We both had beef dishes, by the way. Mine was the beef cheeks, which were excellent and reasonably priced. The calamari entree we shared was also very, very good.
Over dinner we chatted about life, the universe and everything. And my friend, a single woman in her forties, without children, and with flaming red hair joked “it’s our time”, commenting on the election today of Julia Gillard as Prime Minister. By the way, Julia is not our first red-head PM. James Scullin, the 1930s Prime Minister was probably the first, as history records.
It was obviously the talk of the nation today. A sign of this was when when I got my hair cut late this afternoon where the hair-dresser I went to near central was very, very busy. The barber told me it’s because it was so very quiet at lunchtime, as he concluded everyone had stayed at work to watch television.
In the place where I work it was, understandably, a busy day. We watched a lot of television and listened to a lot of radio. We watched the speeches, in particular, huddled around a television together.
For all his faults, the Rudd Speech was devastating. We – men of a certain age – have been brought up not to cry in public. And so as we watched the television together, there was a feeling both of sadness and disquiet in the room. “Keep it together Kevin” some people said. “Have a good cry Kevin”, others encouraged.
Fraser and Hawke both cried in public, of course, and were ridiculed for their tears. Hopefully in 2010, where much was made today of our first female Prime Minister as a sign of a maturing nation, there’s also room for reflection on the modern man who can be “human”, which is also a sign of our nation’s increasing maturity.
Politics is obviously a cut-throat business, and presumably Rudd also “lived and died by the sword”, and politics-aside, I suspect you’d have to be a fairly tough nut yourself not to be even the slightest bit touched by the personal tragedy in Rudd’s speech.
Wandering home at about 10.30, I sat down to watch the Julia Gillard interview on the 7.30 Report with Kerry O’Brien. Watching the two red-heads go head-to-head, I concluded my friend was right…. “it’s our time”. :)
The fireworks that night were for Lunar New Year were quite spectacular.
You were there?
Sadly no James, I saw the fireworks from my apartment.