daisy chapman at arnos vale

Ruth+I went to a concert at a cemetery last night… as you do.

Singer/songwriter/pianist Daisy Chapman was appearing in the Anglican Chapel at the wonderful Arnos Vale Cemetery last night. I’ve seen her a number of times before, but this was the first time she was accompanied by violin, viola and cello (MUCH better than the electronic-repeater-gadget she usually employs!) and was excellent.
One of the bonuses of the evening was that my lovely friend Anna was playing violin in the other band performing – Martin Callingham with Joyce The Librarian (what a great name!!).
Very enjoyable evening in brilliant, intimate surroundings.  
PS: Rather beautiful leaving the chapel at the end of the concert and walking along the illuminated roadway… beside gravestone angels!
PPS: Naturally, with friends like mine, going to a concert at a cemetery attracted a fair number of comments… these are just a few: “dead good”, “gravely poignant”, “was it underground music?” and “did they serve spirits at the interval?”… probably just as well that the Grateful Dead weren’t appearing.

playdays+holidays

Moira+I are SO lucky… we have three of our grandchildren (and their lovely parents!) living in Bristol and so we have the huge privilege of watching them grow up and develop at close hand. If ONLY we could wave a magic wand and have such regular playdays etc with our other three grandchildren in Leyland (and their lovely parents, of course!). Actually, Mikey, Dan+Jemima have Dave’s parents living just down the road from them – which is absolutely great.
Retiring when we did has ensured that Moira+I DO have the luxury (yes, I know we’re a privileged generation in many ways) to be able to enjoy spending time with our grandchildren – among lots of other things.
I’m not actually due/entitled to retire until February 2014, but I made the conscious decision to retire early (in the summer of 2011). I’m really not sure that I can afford to retire, but we live relatively simply and, so far, we seem to be muddling through reasonably well.
What I CAN say, after a little more than two years of retirement, is that (so far) it’s been a brilliant decision. We’re both active and reasonably healthy (albeit with the odd ailment!) and this has meant that we can REALLY enjoy our grandchildren NOW – in a way that my parents, certainly, did NOT do so… ok, yes, it was a different world and it’s probably just as well that my parents didn’t have a big involvement in our daughters’ lives!!
This involvement with our Bristol grandchildren’s day-to-day lives has taken on a new significance TODAY… it’s our first proper playday with just Ursula, because Rosa is now at school full time (obviously, Iris has been at school for some three years now).
Before I retired, Moira used to take a hand in looking after Iris+Rosa one or two days a week. In the school holidays before retirement and during subsequent term times, I have really enjoyed participating in our twice-weekly “playdays” – which, over recent months, has also involved Ursula.
During term time, we’ve had Rosa+Ursula playdays twice weekly and, over the school summer holidays this year, we’ve enjoyed the three girls’ company three days a week… yes, physically exhausting, but great fun!
With Rosa starting full-time school (she was in the nursery class two-and-a-half days a week last year), there has come a sudden (for me) realisation that in a little more than two years’ time, Ursula will be in full-time school too… if I hadn’t retired, I would have missed out on enjoying all those playdays with Iris+Rosa altogether (and several with Ursula).
What value can you put on witnessing/participating in these wonderful early days of your grandchildren’s lives to such a full extent? You simply can’t. Having gone through the experience, it’s priceless.
We continue to be incredibly lucky… and hugely privileged.
Photo: the Bristol contingent…
PS: yes, I know there COULD be more grandchildren… but I think six is a very good number to stick on!

 

august-september 2013 books

More book stuff:

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks (Rebecca Skloot): This is our Book Group’s latest book. It’s a true-story account of a poor, black, American woman who died of cervical cancer in 1951, aged 31. She was the mother of six children and, outside her immediate family, was unknown to the rest of the world. However, through her cancer cells (taken without her knowledge for medical research, she achieved “immortality”. More than 50 million tonnes(!) of HeLa* cells (*their medical name) have been grown over the past six decades in the course of developing a multimillion-dollar industry (and contributing to 5 of the past 10 Nobel Prizes for Medicine in the process) and yet her family knew nothing of this until more than twenty years after her death. I found this a truly remarkable, humbling, moving account of racism and injustice – brilliantly told and researched by Rebecca Skloot (who spent a decade working with family members and interviewing hundreds of people in the process). A few weeks ago, I described Laurent Binet’s “HHhH” as one of my best books of 2013… but I honestly think Skloot’s book surpasses it by some way! You MUST read it (despite its length!).
My Father’s Fortune (Michael Frayn): This is a beautiful memoir of Frayn’s father (written at the request of his daughters, “wondering about their origins”). In trying to do so, he realises just how much he’s forgotten and how much of his background he’d never bothered to question. Fortunately, he was able to enlist the help of his surviving relatives (a good reminder for all families!). His father, Tom, came from impoverished circumstances, married his childhood sweetheart Violet and became a travelling salesman. It’s funny (with a lovely sense of irony) and moving. His father’s life is not particularly exceptional and that’s what provides much of the book’s charm.
After A Funeral (Diane Athill): This is a work of non-fiction (that took place in the mid-1960s) and tells the story of how and why a talented writer came to kill himself. The man was an Egyptian in exile; Athill was immediately captivated by him and he moved into her flat (as a lodger). He was a gambler, a drinker and a womaniser… and impossible to live with. It’s an incredibly tender, honest and painful account of the three years they spent together before he finally committed suicide (I’m not giving anything away here – Athill mentions it in chapter one and it also appears on the book cover!). A powerful, haunting book.
The Four Elements (John O’Donohue): O’Donohue is a huge hero of mine and I just love his wisdom and his writing. This book (originally four pamphlets) reflects on nature through the elements of air, water, fire and stone and explores a range of themes relating to the way we live our lives today. For once, I’m sad to admit that I found this the least compelling book of his that I’ve read (and I’ve read them all – apart from his two poetry books). There, I’ve said it!
The Rain Before It Falls (Jonathan Coe): This is a sad, often moving story of mothers and daughters through three generations. It’s about relationships, families and honesty… amongst other things. Some of the story is told by a dying woman in her seventies speaking into a hand-held primitive tape recorder as she endeavours to pass on what she knows of a family’s history. At times, I found this “storytelling device” just too artificial and I also felt that the ending was rather too contrived. Nevertheless, it’s a well-written, powerful, rather beautiful book.

last day of the cricket season…

I went along to the County Ground, Bristol yesterday to watch the last day of the final game of the cricket season (and, somewhat ridiculously, my FIRST game of the season!).

It felt a bit like the last day of term.
Despite the sunny weather, the crowd was very thin and those who were there seemed to be members or regulars who were attending simply to bid goodbye to their mates until next season.
From the onset, I knew the game (Gloucestershire were playing Lancashire) was likely to peter out in a tame draw - nearly two, out of four, days had been lost to the weather. The only real “hope” was for both teams to make generous declarations in the hope that one of the sides could secure victory during the course of the afternoon. However, there was little hope of that happening because Lancashire needed only a draw to secure the second division championship. Gloucestershire were bowled out before lunch and, with game was heading for the inevitable draw, the only real challenge was to see if the Lancashire opening batsman, Luis Reece, could score his maiden first-class century… unfortunately, he was bowled for 97 and looked a VERY dejected figure as he slowly trudged off at the end (the captains having “shaken hands” on a draw immediately after his dismissal).
I overheard a conversation of a group of local spectators (all of whom seemed VERY knowledgeable about the game – anoraks might be the word! - and were regularly trying to out-do each other by quoting various bizarre cricket statistics) bemoaning the fact that the last day of the match “isn’t a very good advert for the game”. Obviously, they were right but, for me, it was just lovely sitting on the boundary, watching the cricket and the world go by and enjoying the banter and the sunshine.
I need to do it more often!
Photo: Lancashire’s Reece on his way to scoring 97 runs.
PS: Ironically, I had watched Lancashire’s last game of the season two years ago – against Somerset at Taunton – where a victory had secured them the very same second division title… they were relegated last season! I’m obvious a good-luck talisman as far as Lancashire are concerned and so, for a very large fee, would be prepared to see more of their games!

the last five years

No, this isn’t about the next General Election…

Moira+I went along to the Brewery Theatre last night to see/hear Jason Robert Brown’s “The Last Five Years”. It’s a one-act musical (apparently it’s the first ever musical to be staged there) that spans a doomed relationship between Cathy, an aspiring actress (played by Catriona Mackenzie), and Jamie, a successful novelist (Matthew Ronchetti). The quality of the music is excellent and both actors have fine singing voices (especially Cathy), very ably backed by two highly-accomplished pianists. At times, I was reminded of the musical “Tell Me on a Sunday”… but hey, what do I know?
The production is very cleverly conceived (and simply, but effectively, staged) and takes the form of a series of operatic monologues (virtually no spoken dialogue and the only time the couple interact is when they get married) – with Jamie’s story played out in chronological order, while Cathy’s is done in reverse. This might sound rather perverse, but it actually proved very effective. 
A very enjoyable evening. 

one year like this...

It doesn’t seem like a year ago that I started my “one day like this” blog…

Following my return-to-sketching experiences on Iona last summer, I decided on a daily discipline of posting a photograph and a drawing on alternate days. One year on and it seems slightly bizarre to look back on folders of the posted completed images.
Predictably, the quality and style vary. The photos are comparatively easy to produce – just an extension of something I’ve done informally for some time (I usually carry my camera with me and just can’t stop myself from taking pictures of things that catch my eye!). Subjects vary, but frequently involve themes of light/shade, colour and composition.
The sketches are a completely different matter and can be anything from 5 minute scribbles to (very occasionally) drawings that might take me 90 minutes to complete. Again, the subjects vary but frequently include cafes, boats, buildings, people and domestic stuff. I would love to be able just to sit down and produce a very quick sketch of a group of people or of a location but, although I continue to persevere, I find it really hard to do this – my default characteristic is for rather careful, disciplined drawings! The most important aspect of the "project" is to draw regularly and certainly NOT the quality of the drawings.  
Whenever possible, I try hard to draw “on location” but, for various reasons (weather, nosey people looking over your shoulder, laziness etc!), I also end up working from photographs (or finish them off from photos). The good thing is that the discipline of drawing regularly has definitely speeded up my technique and also, over the course of the year, I think I’ve “loosened up” somewhat too!
When I first started this “project”, I did so with no specific idea of how long I would keep it up and, to be honest, I still don’t know. All I do know is that I’m continuing to enjoy it and that it’s certainly my intention to continue for another year or two at least – but who knows?
Photo: some of the 180 plus drawings from the past year!

the great beauty

Saw Paolo Sorrentino’s latest film “The Great Beauty” this afternoon at the Watershed.

It’s set in Rome and revolves around an ageing arts journalist, socialite, bachelor, ”tireless gigolo” (as the Watershed blurb puts it!), Jep Gambardella (wonderfully played by Toni Servillo), amid Italian decadence and glamorous, “well-preserved” rich people – including a fair number of naked females (this retirement lark is tough)! Even through a haze of ridiculously over-the-top parties, Rome looks stunningly beautiful (sigh).
I’ve just read Peter Bradshaw’s review in the Guardian and he describes the city (at least as far as the film is concerned) as being “populated by the formerly beautiful and the currently damned” – which seems entirely fair in my eyes. It’s a long film (something like 160 minutes) which starts off feeling like an excuse for everyone having a good time (and is very funny at times), but develops into a film about love, loss, regret… and death.
Very well worth seeing… I sense I might need to view it again to capture a more complete understanding(!).
PS: the accompanying music is absolutely wonderful… especially the haunting, closing piece (which I’m trying to track down!).
PPS: you might like to watch this trailer to get a “feel”.

goodbye gromits!

Yesterday was the final day of Bristol’s wonderful “Gromit Unleashed” trail.

Over the past 10 weeks, thousands (literally) of very happy, smiling people – NOT just parents/grandparents(!) and their children/grandchildren – have been travelling around the city (and a few miles beyond) in search of 80 beautifully painted, 5 foot high Gromits.
Aardman Animinations/Wallace+Gromit’s Grand Appeal joined forces to organise this wonderful art event (and supported by local businesses and communities) to raise funds for Bristol’s Children Hospital.  All the Gromits will be auctioned off on 3 October.
The only negative note, sadly, were the three Gromits that were vandalised during the course of the trail (no doubt by drunken yobs)… I suspect that, if these idiots had been caught, Bristol’s public would have welcomed the reintroduction of the stocks for general humiliation by rotten vegetables… and, no doubt, people would have turned out in great numbers to queue for the privilege!
However, this negative was massively outweighed by all the positives. We know lots of the local artists who painted the Gromits – and an added bonus for us were the two that Ruth painted (on behalf of wind-up radio man Trevor Bayliss and hat designer/maker Philip Treacy) and also the mini-Gromit (for one of the Aardman directors) that was a lovely figurehead for one of Bristol’s ferries.
It’s been just brilliant… what’s going to be next?
PS: you might recall the successful “wow! gorillas” public art trail in Bristol from two years ago (yes, I realise that that there are other similar trails around the country!).
PPS: the photograph shows the 72 Gromits that I managed to see (I feel just slightly guilty that I saw more than any of our grandchildren!).

family history repeating itself?

Shortly after my father died (just over 21 years ago), we were all highly amused to find a drawer containing two tins of pens. These were labelled “good pens” and “not so good pens” respectively (or something along these lines).

Well, in a plastic wallet in my shoulder bag, I keep my various fibre-tip pens and assorted pencils. Obviously, my pens of choice (Kuretake “Writer”!) do need replacing from time to time but, because they still “work a little bit”, I’ve been loathe to discard them. So, over the past few months (in order to avoid getting the “worn” and “decent” pens mixed up), I've started marking subsequent pens with red rings… then later ones with red rings at each end… then two red rings at one end… and I’m currently using ones with one ring at one end and two at the other…
It was only then that I realised the painful similarities!
Oh dearie, dearie me… like father, like son.
PS: my family already laughs at me, so disposing with old pens before I die is the least of my worries!
Photo: a line-up of the pens out of my bag (note: the red marks fade with use!).

arnos vale blackberry+apple crumble…

Moira+I went to the stunning Arnos Vale yesterday morning for coffee, as you do.

I love walking around this wonderful, wooded cemetery and, today, our walk resulted in an unexpected bonus – blackberries! I just happened to have a couple of plastic bags in my shoulder bag (that I’d completely forgotten about) and so we helped ourselves to a few of the huge number of blackberries that were growing there.
The resulting blackberry+apple crumble was delicious (and there’s still a pie and a tart to go!).
I think we’ll be going back to Arnos Vale again very soon – to be mesmerised by the multitude of fascinating gravestones… and for some more blackberries!
PS: was tempted to write something about “life beyond the grave” (or something similar)… but then thought better of it!

alan partridge: alpha papa

After some fairly full-on family/child-minding days, yesterday was very much a day for relaxing, walking, sketching, drinking coffee and the like (you get the idea…). An afternoon trip to the Watershed cinema also seemed appropriate but, unfortunately, “Looking for Hortense” (with Kristin Scott-Thomas) wasn’t showing at that time, so I plumped for “Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa”. Actually, I’ve never really been an Alan Partridge fan and so this was probably a mistake…

In fact, I almost enjoyed the film. It’s clever, funny and predictably excruciating as he attempts to salvage his public career while being chief negotiator in a hostage situation at North Norfolk Digital Radio (you get the drift!). I thought the film worked better than the TV shows but, for me, the one laugh-out-loud moment didn’t even include Partridge (but a very brief piece involving the radio station security guard on Cromer pier… I won’t say any more!).
I’ve just read one of the reviews in The Guardian which describes it as a “coup de cinema… in its own superficially low-brow, cheapo way”… “it's a Fabergé egg disguised as a Kinder Surprise; an intricate piece of engineering done up to look like a whoopee cushion”.
I’m not sure we saw the same film!

running over rocks

Moira+I spent the weekend running over rocks…

Well, not literally. We were at a retreat run by our great friend Ian (Adams) at the Ammerdown Centre (situated between Radstock and Frome… and set in beautiful grounds). “Running Over Rocks” is the title of Ian’s second book – which explores spiritual practices for living/bringing goodness to the world in difficult times.
I have to say, I’m not very good at signing up/attending courses and the like (I think I fear that I’ll end up making a complete fool of myself… or worse!), but the weekend proved to be a really enjoyable, relaxing and stimulating time.
Obviously, much of this was down to Ian… but it was significantly helped by the other, lovely people on the retreat. We very quickly gelled as a group – which made conversations easy (and laughter plentiful!) and allowed us to share thoughts, insights and experiences with ease. It also proved to be quite a creative weekend in terms of ideas generated – even mini-art installations and ideas for our own personal tattoos (don’t worry, I have no immediate plans for displaying mine to the world)!!
A lovely, inspiring weekend.
Photo: avenue of trees, Ammerdown Centre.

oxford get-together

Moira+I have just had a lovely couple of days in Oxfordshire with Alan+Lesley.

Rather than trying to cram in too many things into a single day, we decided on an overnight stay at The Bat+Ball pub in Cuddesdon. So, we met up on Friday morning and spent the day in Oxford - relaxing over morning coffee at Quod, then beer+lunch at The Turf, followed by afternoon tea+cake at Patisserie Valerie (as you do)… and, in between, going to see the impressive Master Drawings exhibition at The Ashmolian and an amble round Christ Church Meadow in the sunshine. This, naturally(!), was followed by yet more eating+drinking back in Cuddesdon during the course of Friday evening.
As if we hadn’t already eaten ourselves silly (and, of course, we HAD to have breakfast too!), our cousin David and wife Sally came out to join us for lunch yesterday at the pub!
VERY good to take the time to catch up… and lovely to be able to spend time in Oxford again.
Life is good!
Photo: me, Moira, Lesley+Alan at The Bat+Ball, Cuddesdon.

wadjda

Moira+I went along to the Watershed this afternoon to see this rather lovely film, directed by Haifaa Al-Mansour. It’s a remarkable film in many ways: it’s the first film ever to have been made entirely in Saudi Arabia (the country doesn’t have a single cinema!) and it’s been created by the country’s first female director. It also pushes boundaries as far as its subject matter is concerned too – focusing on the realities of life in Saudi Arabia for women (and girls). Wadjda is the name of the sparky, strong-willed, 11-year-old girl who has her heart set on a beautiful green bike… BUT “bikes aren’t for girls”!

It’s a beautiful, charming and funny film – but also one that left me saddened by the male-dominated society within the country.
PS: There’s a section towards the end of the film, where Wadjda recites/sings part of the Koran, which is absolutely lovely.

july-august 2013 books

More book stuff:

The History of the World in Ten-and-a-Half Chapters (Julian Barnes): I’m a big fan of Julian Barnes, so it seems strange that it’s taken me such a long time to read this (it was first published in 1989). As you probably already know, the book consists of 10 short stories - widely disparate but with recurring points of contact. It’s a very intelligent, thoughtful book but, frankly, not one that I found particularly satisfying or engaging.
Patrick Leigh Fermor: An Adventure (Artemis Cooper): An excellent biography of this rather extraordinary man. I’d previously read, and enjoyed, Fermor’s book “A Time of Gifts” a couple of years ago (shortly after his death at the age of 96). Fermor was a travel writer/soldier who was blessed which the sort of memory that enabled him to quote huge chunks of classical literature plus an ability to learn languages virtually at will. He also had the ability to get on with people from all backgrounds (especially people of influence… and women!). A remarkable, enjoyable book.
Running Over Rocks (Ian Adams): This is a really excellent book by my great mate Ian. On one level, it’s a manual that explores and provides 52 spiritual practices for living/bringing goodness to the world in difficult times - but it’s much, much more than that. A manual perhaps suggests a set of strict instructions to be followed, but this book can be used in any number of ways – exploring themes, seasons of the year… asking questions, making suggestions, highlighting refreshing insights… daily disciplines, practical wisdom. I read it through, cover-to-cover but, over the coming months, I can also see myself focussing on particular themes and practices… and our weekly Ithaca group has also decided to use it as its latest “study book”.
It’s a beautiful book… beautifully written and I found its structure and layout both clear and appealing. I loved the small photographic images and adored his stunning poetry. In particular, I was able to identify with the writer himself… the book is highly accessible and shows great perceptiveness based on experience and knowledge.
Goodbye to Berlin (Christopher Isherwood): Set in the early 1930s and evoking the glamour+sleaze, excess+repression of Berlin society under threat from the rise of the Nazis. Isherwood lived in Berlin from 1929 until 1933 and the book is based on his diaries from this time. Poignant, charming and sad… and set against an undercurrent of growing fear.
The Great Galloon (Tom Banks): I wouldn’t normally include children books in my “reading diary”, but this one was written by our good friend Tom Banks… and is very good (“Being a mostly accurate tale of the voyages of Captain Meredith Anstruther, his crew and his celebrated Great Galloon”). Inventive, quirky and funny (with lots of laugh-out-loud moments!). I found it impossible not to read it (silently to myself, you understand) imagining the voices Tom would have used at one of his story-telling sessions!
OOH AAARGH!!

the boy who cried wolf!

Moira+I took Iris along to the open-air, matinee performance of “The Boy Who Cried Wolf!” at the Bristol Old Vic yesterday. Amazingly (and contrary to local weather forecasts), it didn’t rain! The production was based on Michael Morpurgo’s “Aesop’s Fables” and, in addition to the main title, incorporated other stories (“The Hare and the Tortoise” plus some lesser known tales “The Miller, his Son and the Donkey” and “The Donkey and Belling the Cat”).

We’ve seen a number of plays directed by Sally Cookson and they’ve ALL been excellent and this one was no exception. Combining music, humour and an engaging and talented cast, the show was very, very enjoyable.
A really lovely afternoon.

horace batchelor+frances ha

Moira+I are having a busy theatre+cinema week this week*.

Last night, we joined our lovely friends Chris+Lal to see the opening night of “An Audience With Horace Batchelor: King of Keynsham” at The Brewery Theatre. The theatre was absolutely packed to bursting (tickets were discounted at just £5 for the first performance, so we can't really complain!). If you’re under 40 years old, you’ve probably never heard of Horace Batchelor and his adverts on Radio Luxemburg promoting his “infra-draw method” for winning the football pools (“Keynsham… spelt K-E-Y-N-S-H-A-M, Keynsham, Bristol”!).  Needless to say, the average age of the audience was well above 60 years of age!
Roland Oliver was convincing in the “Horace” role – except for his frequent (and rather embarrassing) need to check his lines in the folder on top of his desk. One of the main themes of the play underlined Batchelor’s sense of being unappreciated by society at large (eg. no streets named after him or blue plaques erected in his memory).
Not the best live theatre we’ve experienced, I’m afraid!
On an altogether more positive note, we THOROUGHLY enjoyed Noah Baumbach’s “Frances Ha” at the Watershed this afternoon, starring the excellent Greta Gerwig. It’s essentially about an aspiring dancer who moves to New York to try to make a life for herself as a performer. It’s beautifully shot (in black+white) and a funny, enjoyable film and it contains some lovely moments – such as Frances running down a New York street to accompaniment of David Bowie soundtrack. After watching the “Imagine” programmes on Woody Allen earlier in the week, it was difficult to avoid comparisons with “Annie Hall” and “Manhattan”.
We enjoyed “Frances Ha” a lot!
PS: *We’ve also got tickets to see an alfresco version of “The Boy Who Cried Wolf” at The Old Vic on Saturday (the weather forecast is for rain!).
Photo: Horace Batchelor (left) plus Sophie (Mickey Sumner) and Frances (Greta Gerwig).

architecture+retirement: mixed emotions

We were round at Hannah+Fee’s house the other evening and they were asking me some basic town planning+building regulation questions about a potential extension they were considering for their house. It was only then that I realised that, even though we were talking about very basic matters, I no longer had such information immediately to hand (actually, I was never very good at the “technical” aspects of architecture!).

I retired from architecture in 2005 and, apart from the odd occasion, haven’t really missed it.
However, I have to acknowledge that, watching the BBC’s brilliant Imagine programme on Richard Rogers (actually, I’d originally watch part of it when it was first screened in 2008), did give me a yearning for the old days of working with clients and members of our office in pursuit of architectural elegance and excellence!! This is clearly a somewhat romantic view of my former life, but we did produce some (not all!) significant projects. 
Richard Rogers is now 80 years old and a truly inspirational figure (well, for me at least – and very much so as someone who is prepared to stand up to the Prince of Wales on the matter of architecture!). He studied at the Architectural Association in London, before continuing his studies in the States at Yale (together with Norman Foster and, indeed, his first wife Su Rogers).
From the beginning, he was very much a follower of the Modern Movement and drew inspiration from the likes of Frank Lloyd Wright, Le Corbusier and Mies van der Rohe (weren’t we all!).
Yes, the Imagine programme did make me rather nostalgic for the exciting, frustrating, dynamic, scary world of architectural practice…
Clearly, despite the economic downturn, I would have secured a better retirement financially had I continued (and not eased down “to spend more time with my family” and work with young people in education for six years!), and yet retiring when I did has provided me with a wealth of simple joys I would never have realised…
Moira+I may not have built our own dream house… or toured the world… or enjoyed exotic holidays BUT these simply cannot compare with the joys of watching your grandchildren flower in their early years at close hand (they’ll be teenagers being you can blink!).
Sometimes, I feel like a bit of a cheat or a fraud.
I don’t currently undertake any voluntary work on behalf of charities or local groups (although I do sign a lot of petitions and write to politicians on occasions!)… some of my friends put me to shame in such matters. At the moment (as well as the huge grandchildren+family element of my life), my time is enjoyably spent: walking on a daily basis; finding things to sketch or photograph each day; and making up for all those comparatively non-reading years by reading a book every week… plus more time for music, concerts, theatre, the cinema and spiritual values (oh, and cafes!)!
If the RIBA (Royal Institute of British Architects) hadn’t insisted that retired architects still had to maintain their annual hours of CPD (continued professional development) – how ridiculous is that(?) and, believe me, I wrote several letters before finally giving up in despair(!) - then perhaps I might have retained a regular involvement in architecture in some capacity.
As it is, I’m simply a retired architect who loves his current life… so I can’t complain.
Photo: Pompidou Centre, Paris by Piano+Rogers (photographed on our visit in September 2011).
PS: I LOVED the fact that Rogers was still DRAWING when it came to producing his design concepts (there was a scene in the programme when he was sketching out of doors at his house in Tuscany!)… all too often, it seems to me (old school that I am!), some young architects apparently don’t think that an ability to draw is important these days.

 

the ugly, depressing world of yah-boo politics

I listened to “Yesterday in Parliament” on Radio 4 last night… and, in particular, the so-called “Prime Minister’s Questions”. Although I’d already seen snippets on television, I have to say that it left me feeling utterly depressed and embarrassed at the state of politics in this country.

It was an absolute farce… a wall of noise – from both sides of the House.

Sadly, there WERE some serious points to be made – funding of political parties; donations from trade unions and hedge funds alike; MPs’ second jobs; MPs’ pay etc – but such matters were lost in the ridiculous shouting contest that PMQ has become.
At a time when the rich are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer, the country is crying out for sensible, measured, political debate… but there seems little chance of that.
Do politicians wonder at the disillusionment of the British public? Do most of them really care?  
As things stand, I won’t be supporting any of the major parties come the next General Election… and, although I acknowledge that my individual vote will not have the slightest effect on which party/parties form the next government, I’ll be voting for the Green Party.

stories we tell

Moira+I made a rather late-in-the-day decision to go along to the Watershed yesterday to see Sarah Polley’s semi-documentary film “Stories We Tell”. After 20 minutes, I remember thinking that it was going a watchable, but unremarkable, film – but soon after that I began being enthralled by its story and the way in which Polley had chosen to tell it (she uses Super 8 film, “fake” footage from home movies plus genuine archive material  – somewhat pathetically, it took me half the film to realise that actors were being used for some scenes!). The film is a portrait of her troubled parents (retired British actor, Michael Polley, and his Canadian actor/television presenter wife, Diane). I’ve just seen it described as a “love-letter to her father and mother” and, although this seems a little trite, I think it’s a fair description. Diane died of cancer when Sarah was just 11 years old. Sarah Polley gets other family members (she has two brothers and two sisters) and friends of Diane to tell their own stories and to give their own interpretations. It all sounds so simple (and even quite boring!), but I assure you that it isn’t.

For me, one of the most poignant, telling aspects of the film was Michael’s deeply felt reminiscences which he’d written down (thanks to Sarah’s encouragement) and was made to read passages aloud for part of the film.
I’m delighted we decided to go along and thoroughly recommend that this is a film you should definitely try to see (it’s on at the Watershed, Bristol until at least 11 July).
Certainly one of my films of the year so far!
Footnote: I came out of the film reflecting on the unreliability of memory in all our lives. Ask any member of our own family and, inevitably, you’ll get vastly different viewpoints. For me, I’m pretty awful at remembering specific occasions (that might be one of the reasons I now write this blog?)… or, rather, I THINK I have complete recall of them – until Moira gently reminds me of the ACTUAL details. This has gone on throughout our married life (and I’m sure that our daughters will back Moira up on this!). The only problem is that I am apt to recount stories of these events at the drop of a hat… and this process of recalling “untruths” merely acts as a way of transforming unreliable memories into fact!