I was a little surprised to see Bob and Blanche in the audience last night at “Giant Dwarf”. Though, I’ve seen them at heaps of theatre events around Sydney, it’s often been at the “top end of town”, whereas “Giant Dwarf” is a little more down-market, and it’s a little more “alternative”.
Last night’s show was by Penny Arcade, the New York-based performance artist with ties to Warhol / The Factory etc back in the 1960s. Now in her 70s, she’s still at the cutting edge, with her critique of modern day life. In particular, she hates the so-called “gentrification” of inner city areas, “turning cities into suburbs”.
Though I knew of her work, I had never seen her perform. And so when a friend said she was getting a group of people together to see the show, I jumped at the chance. And I’m really glad I did. It was, honestly, one of the best shows I’ve seen in a long time. Penny makes you think, and Penny makes you laugh. And her timing, as she interacts with a musical soundtrack, is spot on. Highly recommended.
“The things you said on the TV about Warhol were really amazing”, I said to her as we chatted briefly after last night’s show. I was referring to an interview she did on ABC-TV in the last couple of weeks, in which she said Warhol wasn’t the great counter-culturalist you might expect. In the interview, she went on to say he just wanted to make money, hang out with other rich people, and had problems with his sexuality. Having read The Warhol Diaries all those years ago, I guess it makes sense, it’s just that I’d never heard anyone explain his life in those terms before. She was generous with her time, as she chatted with people after the show, and though she had a minder holding her hand, urging her to move on, she seemed genuinely interested in what I, and others, had to say, and ask her about.
Hawkie? As it happens, the former Prime Minister and the author spent a bit of time afterwards chatting with Penny. As it turns out, the Hawke Centre at the University of South Australia is a supporter of her current tour, and Bob, Blanch and Penny go back a long way, as I discovered earlier today, thanks to Google. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Hawkie was, after all, at Nimbin in 1973 for the Aquarius Festival, and I recall, our local newspaper The Northern Star, made a particular point of Hawkie having been seen skinny dipping in the creek.
Details Creator Milne, Peter, 1960- Title Penny Arcade with Bob Hawke and Blanche D’Alpuget and several erotic dancers backstage at the Seymour Centre Theatre, Sydney, April 1995 [picture] / Peter Milne Call Number PIC/10588/4 LOC Drawer PIC/10588 Created/Published 1995 Extent 1 photograph : b&w ; 51.2 x 51.2 cm, on sheet 61 x 61 cm. Physical Context PIC/10588/4 LOC Drawer PIC/10588-Penny Arcade with Bob Hawke and Blanche D’Alpuget and several erotic dancers backstage at the Seymour Centre Theatre, Sydney, April 1995 [picture] /
It’s late morning on the day after Australia Day, 2007. I probably did more this week to celebrate Australia Day than I’ve ever done in the past, having attended a few official functions, as well as yesterday’s activities in Hyde Park, The Rocks and last night’s Darling Harbour Fireworks.
It was actually the first time I’d been to the Darling Harbour Fireworks, having previously avoided them, believing they’d be far too crowded for my liking to attend. But no, they weren’t. Darling Harbour easily holds 150,000 people without too much discomfort. Regrettably, however, Darling Harbour doesn’t cope well with 150,000 people leaving at about the same time.
Australia Day 2007
While waiting for the fireworks to begin, I got to chatting with an older couple visiting from The Channel Islands. They were clearly unaware of the significance of Australia Day and had a number of questions for me such as “Do you get the day off”, and “Are these all your popular songs”, a reference to the music being played in the fireworks countdown. It was clear to me the mixture of well known tracks by “Hunters & Collectors”, “INXS”, “Split Enz” could only have been programmed by a forty-year old man, so I explained to her, “Yes, but only from a very narrow piece of Australian musical history”. It wasn’t until the fireworks themselves that we heard anything even remotely contemporary. “It’s funny”, she said, “because I don’t know any of them”. Nor did most of the audience who were, by and large, not forty year old men.
And then as the National Anthem began to play she asked me another question, “Don’t you sing the national anthem?”. I’d actually noticed I was the only person in our area singing along, something I put down to large tourist numbers, rather than anything else. I felt my own embarassment though when they launched into the mysterious second verse, which I explained to her most Australians didn’t know the words to. At that point I decided one of my resolutions for 2007 would be to learn the second verse of Advance Australia Fair .
Tony Becker
I was quite conscious yesterday of notions of national identity and pride, having spent the day with Tony, a member of ABBAMAIL visiting from Sweden. Wearing an Australian flag hat, Tony seemed to enjoy the day immensely, as we visited Hyde Park, The Rocks , The Wharves and, of course, for a couple of beers at Opera Bar. There were times when I felt a little of the cultural cringe, as various people declared Australia the best country in the world. The woman next to us as Darling Harbour said, “It’s a little parochial isn’t it?” Yes, I said, “Australia is a great country, but there are great other countries too”.
The display of nationalism seemed stronger than ever yesterday with many thousands of people draping themselves in the flag. I noticed a few lone figures – and yes, they were all by themselves – wearing T-shirts which declared, “If you don’t love Australia, leave”, which worried me. And there was something I saw out of the bus window where a group of older men, wearing Australian flags, who seemed to be taunting a group of young Asian women. But by and large these incidents seemed to be fairly isolated, and it’s hard to know whether it’s a new and growing phenomenon or not.
Clearly notions of national identity have been in the minds of many lately following those stupid comments by the Sheikh. I try to believe he’s just like Fred Nile was thirty years ago, with his every utterance – no matter how out of touch they are – reported by a naive media. For years, the Reverend Fred would appear at Mardi Gras and the media would assiduously report his comments about abomination, Leviticus and the like, until eventually they just lost interest. The same with Pauline. Hopefully it’s all just part of the history cycle, not something more serious.
In contrast to the over-the-top jingo-istic and flag-waving elements of Australian nationalism, I thought Thursday’s Australia Day lunch was a smart, sophisticated way of acknowledging the holiday and our notions of national identity. It was the first time I’d attended the Official Lunch for Australia Day, and so had little idea of what to expect. The company was good, the food was good, and the entertainment was great. Some of the performances – including David Campbell’s version of “The Forgotten Years”, Tim Friedman/Richard Clapton’s version of “Best Years Of My Life” and Bangarra Dance Theatre’s “Moth” – were all really tremendous.
Former NSW Treasurer, and now NSW Australia Day Chairman, Michael Egan told a wonderful anecdote about his First Fleet ancestry. One of his convict ancestors, apparently, carried the first NSW Governor, Arthur Phillip on his shoulders, as the First Fleet came to shore in 1788, with Michael Egan declaring “I used to tell former Premier, Bob Carr, I wasn’t the first member of my family to carry the weight of NSW on his shoulders”.
Speaking of which, the current NSW Premier, Morris Iemma also gave a fairly powerful and convincing speech in which he argued his views about the idea of multiculturalism within Australian national identity. Without wishing to oversimplify the essence of his argument, he seemed to be saying “multiculturalism” (as we’ve come to know it) is transition stage in which migrants are politely introduced into their new country. He was at pains to point out, he’s not an advocate of assimilation, but of the idea that Australian identity is constantly evolving and being influenced by waves of immigration, and that it’s all about remembering the past, but looking forward.
On a much lighter note, there was was the launch of the Australia Post “Legends” stamp series, acknowledging some of the most influential figures in Australian horse-racing. HG Nelson introduced the likes of Johnny Tapp and Bart Cummings to a very welcoming audience of 1,500 people.
Also this week, I went to the Australia Day Lecture, held Tuesday night at the Conservatorium of Music, given by Kim Williams, Foxtel’s CEO. It was an excellent speech, well illustrated with sound and video, in which he explained how he believed notions of Australian identity were inextricably linked with the media.
In our young nation – and I refer here to the time since political federation in 1901 – the role of film, radio and television in the development of that contemporary identity is more prominent than for nations with longer inherited histories which inevitably drive different outcomes. We, as the national anthem says, are ‘young and free’ – more open to the impact of film and TV than older societies.
Evidence of this has continued through the week in the way in which the media has both influenced, and been used, to advance notions of Australian identity. With fears of racial violence, the organisers of the Big Day Out, had asked people this week not to bring Australian flags to the event. In a typically Australian way, people responded by taking as many flags as possible.
I’m still a little tired from a full week of activities. I have no major plans for the weekend except for going to see a preview screening of “The Last King of Scotland”, the new film about Idi Amin. I’ll probably also go to the gym later this afternoon. So hopefully, just a relaxing weekend.
Mind you, it’s a warm day outside, though not outrageously hot. But the wind has picked up, and I have that “oh no, it’s gonna be a bushfire day” feeling.
Public art, thoughtful words from the Pigram Brothers, and the perfect place to check your hair and make-up before heading to The Court Hotel in Perth, Western Australia.I took my first work-related phone call from the Eastern States at about seven o’clock this morning. Even though it was in my diary, and I’d planned for it, I was still fairly bleary eyed. Still, I think I managed to make sense of it all.
I think I also made sense when I took a call the other day from The East where the person on the end of the phone hadn’t quite realised there was a three-hour time-zone difference between Melbourne and Perth. “So it’s 10.30 in the morning?” the person on the other end of the phone said, to which I replied, “No, it’s 4.30 in the morning”.
Three hours time difference between Sydney and Perth shouldn’t make a difference but it does. And I was reminded tonight of why, at the end of 2004, I decided to return to Sydney, instead of staying in Perth: it’s the time-zone difference. On paper, you wouldn’t think two or three hours makes a difference, but it certainly does.
The work stuff you can live with. That’s why you get the big bucks. But a three hour time zone gap makes the biggest difference when it comes to maintaining relationships with family and friends. You arrive home from work, and you think it would be terrific to ring up your family and friends, and then suddenly you realise they’re going to bed. Even though many of my friends back home are night owls, you still don’t want to call too late. And besides, there’s a difference between calling someone at seven and calling someone at ten.
Initially I was a little “ho hum” about Loreen’s entry in Melodifestivalen (the contest which leads to Eurovision) in 2011, “My Heart Is Refusing Me”. It kinda sounded like someone had put Swedish lyrics into “Google Translate”.
I have since come to love this song, thanks largely to seeing her performance at the Swedish Gay Gala in 2012. The song, which went on to represent Sweden at Eurovision was Eric Saade’s “Popular” was very good, even though, of course, it was musically a rip-off of Boney M’s “Rasputin” and Lilli och Sussie’s “Oh Mamma”.
But it was the Gay Gala performance that convinced me how great the song was, and what a terrific performer she is.
And of course, the reaction of the audience is terrific! In the midst of a bunch of nameless people, you get to see some well known (for Sweden) performers performers really getting into it. Swedes have a reputation for being quiet and reserved, which I know, from my many nights at many venues including the now, sadly closed, Victoria’s, isn’t true. The Swedes love a good sing-a-long.
It was another reasonably uneventful day for me. After a week on the road, I just wanted another quiet day at home.
I spent some time on genealogy research throughout the day, and then tonight I watched some television, including the Eurovision special on SBS.
“What are the worst songs this year?”, a colleague asked me this week. This is part of the whole Eurovision is crap philosophy that I don’t agree with. Sure, I love the camp stuff, but I also like it when there’s a good song.
“The song from the woman from Sweden is quite good”, I told him. He didn’t seem that interested. I also suggested “Satellite” by Germany, and I think that will get a run on radio this week.
Obviously having seen Anna Bergendahl in rehearsal, and being in Sweden for her win, I’m supporting her this year, though I did have songs from the Swedish finals I liked more, including Keep on Walking by Salem al Fakir and Manboy by Eric Saade. I like it, and I suspect it will do quite well, even though quite a few of my friends have declared it a “boring ballad”.
But there’s a few others I like too, including the entrant from Iceland, where it’s part liking the song, and part feeling a bit sorry for Iceland who’ve had their share of problems with volcanoes and economic crises.
As well as having to choose a favourite, I’m also facing a real dilemma this year: how to spend Eurovision.
After a number of years hosting a party at my place, we ventured out last year to a party at The Flinders Hotel.
In some ways it was good, in other ways it was crap. It was fun watching it with other people, and I loved chatting to a Swedish bloke but it wasn’t taken all that seriously by the organisers. There was a drag show which showed no connection to the event, they used a tarp for screen projection, and that’s just the start.
The same people who hosted an event last year are doing it again this year, though at a different venue.
I suspect the solution will be to download the show, watch it during the day, and then go out for a drink that night to watch the show on the big screen with a bunch of other poofs.
Along with watching elections, Eurovision remains my favourite sport, so I’ve got to choose carefully.
Having spent a couple of weeks overseas I’ve obviously fallen off the distribution list. Or maybe it’s because I’m no longer on Facebook. Whatever the reason, I’ve clearly missed the “memo” that this year declared Halloween part of the Australian cultural landscape. And yet it’s odd, since I’ve managed to keep up with almost every other overseas trend over the 45 years of my life.
Like most of my generation who’ve grown up with the television as surrogate parent, I’ve watched hundreds, thousands, maybe tens-of-thousands of hours of American television. Almost every program I watched as a child featured an episode where the children would get dressed up for Halloween and then go out trick-or-treating. But even though we all watched it, I don’t recall anyone ever wanting to do it here. The general consensus amongst my age group was that it was an interesting American tradition, but nothing we would actually consider doing here.
I wonder, then, about the views of my old school-mates and what they must be thinking now. Most of them now have children in their late teens to mid 20s, so they’ve probably missed the boat on the 8 to 10 year old fantasy aspect of Halloween. I kinda understand the fantasy aspect of it all, by the way. I totally get the excitement a lot of kids will get out of this. And I totally get the dual emotions of delight and the horror parents must feel: isn’t it great to see their kids having “harmless” (?) fun?; and isn’t it awful to have something further commercialised, and costing money, so close to Christmas? And it has been commercialised. In my local supermarket last night, for example I noticed a shelf of merchandise for Halloween right next the Christmas merchandise shelf.
What I guess I don’t really understand is why it’s happening now. Have we reached the point as nation that we are so incredibly bored, so entirely lacking in imagination, that we have to follow every lame-arse tradition that we’ve seen from watching too many Hollywood movies, and having a television schedule that increasingly appears to be taking a direct feed of CBS, NBC, ABC and Fox?
And it also seems totally at odds of where we’ve heading with our children, the trend to lock them up, drive them to school, and blow their noses for them. This trend to allow your children to go out and about knocking on strangers doors seems completely at odds with the “stranger danger” paranoia of the last twenty years. There again, it may be a reaction against this. Maybe we, as a nation, want kids to be able to go out and knock on the neighbours doors again without fear they’ll be abused in some way?
I have a thousand and one other objections, many based around issues of religion and faith.
Despite my concerns, and the concerns of a number of friends expressed on places like Twitter, I’m left with the a sense of resignation. It’s happened though, and there’s nothing I can do about it except write this rather pointless blog post. And so tonight, in the unlikely event someone would press the downstairs buzzer, I went and had a look at what treats I might have in the fridge. Oh yes, there’s some lovely fetta. Oh that pate looks gorgeous. Best treat of all, though? Kalles Kaviar. They love it in Sweden. It’s a creamed salmon roe that comes in a tube, and is as salty as vegemite. Now that’s a treat! I’ll bet the kids will love that.
Continuing my “Eurovision Countdown” and highlighting another wonderful song and performance. And highlighting something which I wish there was more of in modern Eurovision: songs in languages other than English. This song is awesome, and was easily my favourite from 2007. Marija Šerifović from Serbia. There’s an English language version, too, but in my opinion, it lacks the passion of this.
I should remember Penny Arcade. I remember the name, but I cannot remember her. Rather a few revelations about people alive and no longer with us. Interesting.
I should remember Penny Arcade. I remember the name, but I cannot remember her. Rather a few revelations about people alive and no longer with us. Interesting.