There was a fair bit of “eye candy” in the second heat of Melodifestivalen, the competition which chooses Sweden’s entry for the Eurovision Song Contest. From the opening number (a cover of Saturday Night Fever’s “Stayin’ Alive” featuring male pole dancers), and later, David Lindgren (the host) appearing in tighty-whities, to the homoerotic charm of Samir och Viktor, there was much to recommend.
Though not up there with the overall brilliance of Petra Mede’s work, the production numbers in this year’s Melodifestivalen have been terrific. In particular, Petra Marklund’s performance of “En tuff brud i lyxförpackning” (A tough bride in luxury clothing), with markedly older female backing dancers, showed strength and sophistication, with a nod to the past, as Lill-Babs performed the song many, many years ago at Melodifestivalen.
There were two remarkable things about the songs in the second heat. First, the large number of which were sung in Swedish, bucking the more recent trend of having songs mostly sung in English. Second, the overall quality of the melodies. There were no terrible songs, and no terrible performances in my view. It seems like even Samir and Viktor who have previously entered with “novelty songs” have had some singing and dancing lessons. Their song, Shuffla, was my favourite in this week’s heat, combining an awesome saxophone solo with a fun sing-a-long, and a rap in Swedish. It would be fun to see them make it through to Eurovision.
“They’re cute, but I’m not sure I’d like either one of them as a boyfriend”, I told my friends as we walked out of the movie. “You mean they’re a bit high maintenance?”, one of my friends replied with a twinkle in his eyes. We were talking about the twin brothers – Larry and Garry – at the centre of the documentary film, “From Hollywood To Dollywood”.
Not only are they twins, but they’re gay, they’re from a conservative Christian background in a small town in America, and they’re big fans of Dolly Parton.
I really like Dolly Parton, but these guys really LOVE Dolly. In fact, they’ve written a film for Dolly, and this documentary records their cross-country road trip from Hollywood to Dollywood, and their desire to personally present Dolly with a copy of their manuscript.
Throughout the film we learn more about their lives. Their parents know, for example, they’re both gay, but it’s not something they “talk about” You sense a fair bit of anger from these two young men they’re unable to do fully share their lives with their parents. There’s one point in the film, though, when one of the twins says something like, “we’ve got to stop talking about mom in this way… she’s just one person… lots of other people… millions have these feelings too” (or words to that effect).
It’s perhaps the lack of parental acceptance that’s drawn them to Dolly Parton. Although, like me, they would have grown up listening to Dolly – “Coat Of Many Colours” is one of my earliest musical memories – I think it’s the fact that Dolly has been so forthright in her opening her arms up to her gay fans that’s part of the attraction. They mention, at one point, a song by Dolly which I’d never heard before called “Family”. They tell the story of putting it on their mother’s car sound system, and how she just cried and cried when she heard it.
When it’s family, you forgive them for they know not what they do
When it’s family, you accept them, ’cause you have no choice but to
When it’s family, they’re a mirror of the worst and best in you
And they always put you to the test
And you always try to do your best
And just pray for God to do the rest, when it’s family
Some are preachers, some are gay
Some are addicts, drunks and strays
But not a one is turned away, when it’s family
Some are lucky, others ain’t
Some are fighters, others faint
Winners, losers, sinners, saints, it’s all family
Like all “road” movies, it’s got a great sense of narrative. Will they meet Dolly? What will the circumstances be? Will they overcome the road-blocks along the way such as flooding?
At one point later in the film, a boyfriend of one of the twins asks, “Why did you want to drive across America; why not just catch a plane?” In response, one of them says something about how the road-trip was also an opportunity to re-write the script, and to meet other people whose lives have also been touched by Dolly Parton in some way. I’m not convinced that’s the entire story, but I’ll take it on face value.
Anyway, it’s a lovely film which I enjoyed very much.
A couple of weeks ago, I had a grand plan that I would re-commence blogging every day. Inspired by people like Carol and Andrew, who post more regularly than I do, I thought I’d give it a shot. For a few years I did in fact blog every day (or pretty close to it), as I thought it would be a great way for me to keep a track of my life, hoping to improve things. And for a good while, it happened. But then life and work got in the way of things. Instead of coming home, inspired to share some pearl of wisdom or exciting adventure, I found myself coming home, collapsing on the couch, and barely able to string a few words together. Yeah, I can tweet, or share a brief update of my life on Google+ or Facebook, but blogging requires (to my mind), more thoughtful consideration. I definitely have that space when I’m travelling, and in 2017, I’ll be travelling to both Spain and Sweden. So yeah, I haven’t got there yet in terms of more regular posts, but in the meantime, here’s a few photographs from the first couple of weeks of my life in 2017.
One of many things of childhood I’ve never grown out of is the ability to sleep. I’m one of those people who can fall asleep at the drop of a hat. I can do a micro-nap on a bus from the City to Surry Hills. A couple of years ago, I even had a brief nap during a work-related conference call. It was an afternoon conference call on a day where I’d been at work since about four o’clock in the morning. I took the call at home and napped briefly during the call, I’m ashamed to say. I reckon if I lived in Japan, I could easily be one of those commuters who could sleep standing up.
While sometimes the cause of these mini-sleeps is not having enough sleep the night before, and other times it’s physical exhaustion (the result of a hard day’s work), tonight it was a case of thinking too much. I walked in the door, made a quick phone call, checked some personal email, and fell asleep on the couch.
I’m working reasonably hard at the moment, with quite a few major projects taking up a lot of time and energy. And on top of that, we’re in the midst of an election, for which I have a couple of important roles to play.
I’ve been espousing my theory the last few days to whoever will listen that Labor will be returned next weekend not because of anything either side of politics has done, or hasn’t done, but because of sense of the “inevitability” of infrequent change in Australian political history.
If you look at the list of election results on Wikipedia, a reasonably consistent trend emerges. If you exclude the first twenty years or so after Federation (on the basis of the extraordinary factor of the First World War, and as our democracy began to settle down into a pattern of consistency), you see very few changes of government.
The longest period of consistent government was, of course, between 1949 and 1972 when the Coalition was returned consistently.
And since then, we’ve only had governments change in 1972, 1975, 1983, 1996 and 2007.
What’s interesting, though, is when you look at the results of the first election after that change of government. Consistently there’s a swing away from the government, but not enough for them to actually lose the election. In 1974, Whitlam lost one seat and in 1977 Fraser lost one seat. 1984 is a little different because the house was increased from 125 seats to 148 seats, but still there was a swing away from Hawke, but not enough for him to lose government, and then in 1998, Howard lost nine seats, but never lost government.
This slowness to change could be a factor of the two-party system, or perhaps it’s part of the Australian electoral psyche that everyone deserves a second chance, no matter how good or bad they are?
I had a lovely surprise at work today, being presented with this autographed copy of the new book by Edmund White, an autobiography.
White had been in to work a few days ago and I’d mentioned to a colleague how much I’d enjoyed A Boy’s Own Story (and after that “The Beautiful Room Is Empty”) as a teenager living in a small country town in Northern NSW.
As the book deals with growing up gay, it was a crucial book to read at the age of sixteen or seventeen. I told my colleague who was about to interview White how important the book was for me, and how I’d read half the book in the local “Angus & Robertson” before I’d summoned up the courage to actually purchase it. I also remember in hindsight, the young man behind the counter telling me how much he’d enjoyed reading the book, and how much I’d also enjoy it, without realising what he was “really saying”.
“He’s outside, tell him”, my colleague urged me. “No, he’s heard this before, he wouldn’t care”. After a little urging, my colleague convinced me to go with him to meet White and to tell him the story of how important his book had been in my life, which, nervously, I did.
And that was it, or so I thought. Until today, when my colleague brought in this signed copy of his latest work.
Receiving this touched me in a number of ways: first, that White (who I admired immensely because of these books) could be bothered to do this. Second, that my colleague thought enough or me to either ask for this, or organise this. Nice stuff.
“What do you think the inside of a radio station would look like…?”, Terrence asked. We were standing on the footpath, admiring the facade of Koori Radio, as part of a tour of Sydney’s Redfern by the Architectural Association. It’s the kind of question a large group would, undoubtedly, have had a multitude of answers, based largely on what they’ve seen on television and film. The difference this time was there was no “large group” to answer the question: there was just me.
When I first turned up at Redfern Post Office, the starting point for the the tour, and soon noticed there was no one else hanging around, I thought I’d made a mistake. I thought maybe I had the wrong address. I thought I’d put the wrong date in my calendar. Then I thought they might have cancelled the tour and I’d missed the email notification. But right on time, Terrence turned up, introduced himself and confirmed I was indeed the only person on the tour.
Koori Radio – although the design looks complex and random, there’s actually only three different “panels” which makes them easier to replace, Terrence explained.
I’ve been on a few of these walking tours organised by the Architecture Association previously, including walks around Middle Cove and Surry Hills and remembered them fondly. I actually recognised Terrence from the tour of Surry Hills in 2007. That was quite a big group, as I recall, and so it was great to have something a little more personalised.
National Centre for Indigenous Excellence – the scale of the building is minimised for the pedestrian walking along, as all you really notice is the Mondrian styling.
There were a few things I really liked about the tour, aside from the personalised nature of it all, and the obvious passion Terrence has for both architecture and the area itself. I really loved the way the tour gave me a better understanding about some of the principles underlying design in Sydney. I really loved how it opened my eyes to the types of buildings which I would otherwise see as ugly or incongruous. And I really loved the way I got to see parts of a nearby suburb I don’t otherwise usually see.
A really nice house.
“The main difference between Melbourne and Sydney architecture is the way Sydney architects try to design with context in mind”, Terrence said, as he pointed to a large white building. He talked about how the lines were in keeping with the other terrace houses. He also pointed it out in the design of the gym at the National Centre for Indigenous Excellence, a large building on a residential street, but designed so it didn’t feel so large for the pedestrians walking along side it.
White. Minimalist. Industrial. But in keeping with the lines/styling of a terrace house.
“I don’t think I could live in the white house”, I told him, as he showed me photographs of the internals. Minimalist. White. There was, however, a nearby house which I quite liked the look of with a timber facade, neighbouring a small park. Not that I could afford either, as Redfern is definitely a suburb “on the way up”, and already out of the price range of most people I know.
We both laughed when I mentioned to Terrence the reason I couldn’t answer the radio studio design question in the way he would have otherwise expected.
Architecture Association tour of Redfern
It was a really enjoyable tour that was supposed to go for two hours, but which we completed in ninety minutes due to the more personalised service, and because there were no “stragglers”. These tours are regularly advertised on the Architecture Association website, and I’d recommend this one if you, like me, have a passion/interest in architecture and in Redfern.
In the midst of the light rail construction currently underway in my neighbourhood, Surry Hills, there’s a terrific public art project, Double Take, which includes some wonderful night-time projections. Here are some of the photographs I snapped tonight.
