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!

june 2013 books

More book stuff:

Umbrella (Will Self): I suspect that this is a truly brilliant book. I started reading it just before going on holiday and then decided to “put it on hold” in favour of more suitable holiday reading material. The story focuses on Audrey, a munitions worker in 1918, who is incarcerated in a mental hospital after falling victim to encephalitis lethargic, a brain disease that leaves some of its victims speechless and motionless. In 1971 she is treated by psychiatrist Dr Busner, who wakes her from her stupor with a new drug.
The book covers three time frames (1918, 1971 and 2010) and four viewpoints (the psychiatrist, his patient and her two brothers). The book is NOT easily accessible – well, certainly not for me. It’s 397 pages long and probably contains no more than 10 paragraphs in the entire book and NO chapters! It’s a rambling, poetic, stream-of-consciousness narrative. It probably took me at least half of the book to get into. Self frequently switches focus and time between (and during) sentences. By the end, I sensed that I’d read something quite remarkable- from an author of huge imagination, intelligence and skill.
A Time To Mend: Reflections in Uncertain Times (Peter Millar): I’ve read a number of books produced by Peter Millar over the years (he’s a former Warden of the Iona Community) and he’s always struck me as a very wise, gentle and fascinating man. This wide-ranging and poignant book of reflections is rather beautiful - as well as challenging – and one that I’ll no doubt refer to over the coming years.  
Pushing The Boat Out (edited Kathy Galloway): A collection of poems, from 16 authors, having its origins in the Iona Community magazine “Coracle”. Kay Carmichael describes it thus: “Poetry can speak to the intellect, the heart or the spirit. This is a rare anthology in that it speaks to all three”. I’d go along with that and will certainly keep dipping into over future months/years.
HHhH (Laurent Binet): This is our latest Book Group book and, although I’m generally not a great lover of historical fiction, this is just brilliant. The novel tells the true story of two Czech parachutists’ WW2 mission to assassinate Reinhard Heydrich, chief of the Nazi secret services. Heydrich’sa boss was Heinrich Himmler and the book’s strange title is taken from what everyone in the SS said of their association: “Himmlers Hirn heist Heydrich” (“Himmler’s brain is called Heydrich”). Again, rather like Will Self’s “Umbrella”, there’s a fair amount of stream-of-consciousness stuff – with Binet often speculating on what might have happened and then, perhaps, later rubbishing his original thoughts… or coming up with new speculation - with lots of its workings shown in the margins (as it were). It’s amusing, poignant, highly original, imaginative and completely captivating. Probably one of the best books I’ve read this year (to date!)!
So Many Ways to Begin (Jon McGregor): This a gentle, at times almost mundane, story of ordinary lives – but told in McGregor’s intricately-observed writing style. It tells of the relationship of a couple, David and Eleanor, from youth to age and of their own upbringings. Although perhaps not as impressive as “If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things” (it would be difficult to match this!) or “Even The Dogs”, I thought this was another beautiful McGregor book.

gromit unleashed

Two summers ago, 61 life-size, painted gorillas decorated the streets of Bristol. They were a great success – very popular with old and young alike. At the time, I asked “what’s going to be next?”.

Well, the answer is 80 five-foot tall Gromits!
TheTrail opens on Monday 1 July and will last for 10 weeks… at the end of which the figures will be sold to raise money for Bristol Children’s Hospital.
Rosa+I went along to the Harbourside yesterday afternoon to see Nick Park “drive” the steam train carrying 11 Gromits from Aardman’s Headquarters to the M-shed… for a reception attended by sponsors and artists (we’re very lucky to know a number of the artists involved – including Emily Ketteringham and David Bain… and Ruth was also delighted to work as the artist for two Gromits on behalf of two celebrities/contributors, plus a mini Gromit destined for one of the ferries, I think). “GromitUnleashed” is going to be a HUGE success in Bristol this summer… I know the artists have had a great time decorating their individual Gromits and, from all the happy, smiling faces who watched the Gromits arriving at the M-shed yesterday afternoon, the event is going to attract an awful lot of people to the city.
It’s going to be AMAZING!
Photo: Some of the Gromits that arrived at the M-shed by steam train yesterday afternoon (looking a little startled by the enthusiastic welcome they received, perhaps?).
PS: I can’t wait to join Iris, Rosa+Ursula on the Trail over the summer… and am probably feeling even more excited than them at the prospect!!

midsummer night’s dreaming

Across midsummer weekend (21–23 June) the Royal Shakespeare Company put on a unique performance of “Midsummer Night’s Dream” - directed by Artistic Director Gregory Doran and working in partnership with Google Creative Lab to provide a one-off theatre project in real time and viewable via the internet.

Hannah’s husband Felix was one of a number of actors invited back to the RSC to perform the play (with just a week’s rehearsal time!) and so Hannah, Ursula, Moira+I went to Stratford yesterday to watch some of the action. Felix played the part of “Snug” (one of the “Mechanicals”).
Obviously, much of the action took place out of doors and, this being midsummer in England, account needed to be taken of a certain amount of inclement weather! We attended some of yesterday afternoon’s rehearsals and “wedding events”.
A lovely, happy, relaxed atmosphere and a very enjoyable day.
Photo: Felix (the lion!) and some the other “Mechanicals” plus Google cameraman and props person… you can see other rehearsal images here (including one where the prompter is sheltering through the action under an umbrella!).
PS: as well as being able to watch the play “in real time” over the course of the weekend, hopefully, there will be an audio of the performance available in due course via this link.

alice roberts at bristol’s big green week

As one or two of you may know, I think Alice Roberts is quite a talented broadcaster(!)… (ok, I mean, she can do no wrong in my book). I went along to the lunchtime lecture at the Arnolfini today to hear her talk about “Survivors of the Ice Age” (filling in the background to her recent BBC series, amongst other things). She spoke informatively and entertainingly for 50 minutes, without notes, before answering questions from the audience.

There’s something incredibly inspiring to hear someone talk with huge passion and knowledge about their subject.
She’s a brilliant communicator... and I want to be a scientist when I grow up.
Photo: après-lecture conversations.

 

protest

Erdem Gunduz, pictured, has become a legend… just by standing completely still. He began to stand still, and silent, in Taksim Square, Istanbul last Monday at 6pm and remained there until 2am. In a matter of hours, his photograph was being shared globally.  

Dignified, powerful, passive resistance.
As someone who is frequently accused (in a friendly, light-hearted way) of ranting – via this blog or on facebook, perhaps I could learn something from Mr Gunduz!

Anyway, I’ve been reflecting on last week’s G8 Summit…
Although any solutions on Syria remain sadly far off, I’m relieved that the immediate prospect of arming the opposition to the Assad government has apparently been put on the back burner – at least for the time being. What WAS heartening, however, was that the G8 has made it clear that tax abuse is an issue of the highest priority and that tax evasion is within the G8 mandate and the requirement has been established to crack open the secrecy on tax havens.
Over the years, I’ve read several books by Peter Millar (former Warden of the Iona Community) and I’m currently reading “A Time To Mend: Reflections In Uncertain Times”. I’ve always found him a very wise man and someone well worth listening to… on a wide range of subjects. Whilst the G8 Summit’s intentions on tax are hardly mind-shatteringly new (or far-reaching), they do perhaps take account of the many protests that have taken place (especially over the past couple of years) about injustices surrounding what is sometimes termed as “predatory capitalism”.
This is an extract from one of Millar’s reflections (“Global Protest at Predatory Capitalism”):  
“Around the world people of all ages and of all faiths are saying that enough is enough in relation to our present-day pervasive predatory capitalism. We see this protest expressed in the Occupy London and Occupy Wall Street campaigns. These protests are opening up a long-needed debate about unbridled capitalism and about ethical bankruptcy which lies at the heart of many global financial institutions. This moral vacuum within financial structures has become clearer to the general public following the bailout by governments of major banks. It is also reflected in the growing divide between rich and poor…
There is a growing awareness and a legitimate anger about the unjust ways in which wealth is distributed. But there is more at stake. Many of those who believe in such protests also know that society needs a paradigm shift. As one protester put it: ‘We want to change minds and hearts’. To raise fresh questions in all our minds: Why cannot real change take place? Why are these institutions not more accountable for their behaviour? Is it inevitable that the gulf between rich and poor becomes wider year by year? The British journalist Madeleine Bunting described the aims of the protest in this way: ‘It is about seeding questions in thousands of minds, shaking certainties and orthodoxies so that there is space for new alternatives’”.
Perhaps people in authority have, at long last, started to realise the public, national and international strength of feeling when it comes to injustice and abuse of power? That might be too much to ask… but, perhaps we do all need to become Erdem Gunduzs.

much ado about nothing

Went along to the Watershed this afternoon to see Joss Whedon’s take on a Shakespeare play. It’s filmed in black+white and set in a Californian suburb in the 1970s(?). For me, it was an enjoyable film with some amusing touches (eg. Dogberry and his constables become NYPD tough guys), but no more than that. Good to watch on DVD on a wet Sunday afternoon perhaps, but nothing more. I thought Amy Acker made a pretty good Beatrice and, somewhat predictably, I fell in love with Hero (played by Jillian Morgese) – for the way she looked rather than her acting!

A pleasant afternoon in the cinema, but maybe I should have been out enjoying the sunshine?   

drimnin+iona (1-12 June 2013)

I’ve been reflecting on a wonderful time that Moira+I have spent with great friends Bob+Christine at the Old Schoolhouse, Drimnin (thanks to Richard+Sarah’s generosity). The last time Moira+I were there was the summer of 2006, but this holiday echoed a time we spent here with B+C fifteen years ago. It’s a stunning location – situated some 11 miles west of Lochaline on the Scottish mainland, looking across the Sound of Mull towards Tobermory on Mull (near enough to make out the town’s colourful, harbour facades).

You do NOT venture into Scotland without being prepared for very wet (and cold?) weather and so, we duly armed ourselves with waterproofs, fleeces, thermals and plenty of jumpers. What we experienced was very, very different…
We had wonderful, warm, sustained SUNSHINE every single day (intermittent on the first day and mixed with some brief showers on our final day). Apart from one day (when we had an excellent lunch on the terrace at the Fish Café in Tobermory), we had a daily picnic lunch. We spent huge amounts of time sitting in the garden reading – or, from time to time for me, drawing.
We did plenty of walking – although I did feel somewhat restricted due to my hip/leg problems – towards Aluston Point, the Old Castle, Ardtornish House gardens, St Columba’s Chapel, beside Loch Arienas/Teacuis and Tobermory (as well as countless walks along the shoreline).
We also spent two lovely days on Iona – staying at The Argyll Hotel (at last!). Stunning sunshine, the beauty of the island and a chance to catch up with some very good friends (made during my time volunteering there last year). Again, picnic lunches consumed at the stunning Port Ban beach and at North End.
We’ve seen plenty of wildlife – including, THREE eagles (together, and between say 100-250m from Old Schoolhouse), several red/roe(?) deer (one relaxing in the garden for some TWO HOURS in the early morning of our last full day), a pine martin (again, in the garden… twice), a porpoise (well, almost certainly,… near Tobermory), a jay and at least a couple of common sandpipers… plus buzzards, herons, ravens etc!
I think the overriding memories – as well as very enjoyable times with very good friends – were a) the simply AMAZING number of bluebells, wild garlic and gorse, b) the sound of bees, birdsong and boats, c) the vibrant sunsets, d) meeting up with old friends on Iona and e) the incredible weather.
We feel very blessed.
Photo: trying to convey some of the good times with a bundle of holiday images.

 

 

may-june 2013 books

More book stuff:

A Visit of the Royal Physician (Per Olov Enquist): This is our latest book group book. It’s an historic novel based on Danish political turbulence and the enlightenment of the 1760s (power, sex and love feature strongly!). I appreciate that the book has been highly-acclaimed, but I’m afraid I frequently found it quite tedious and repetitive – I’ve just read a review which says: “Enquist writes in short, jerky sentences which often seem to repeat themselves. Although disconcerting at first, the technique works brilliantly”. Not for me it didn’t! I love history but, in truth, I’m not a great lover of historical fiction. No more than two stars from me… sorry!
Even the Dogs (Jon McGregor): This is just brilliant - DESPITE the unflinching desolation of the subject. It’s about homelessness, addiction, degradation and selfishness. It’s about people being caught up in a cycle of hopelessness and yet, it’s written with extraordinary tenderness and empathy and it’s also non-judgemental. It’s a powerful, unrelenting and grim book which offers some explanations of the plight (and people’s survival skills) but, at the same time, doesn’t offer excuses… and, perhaps most important of all, it’s simply beautifully written.
Levels of Life (Julian Barnes): I’m a great fan of Julian Barnes’s writing. This short book, written some four years after the death of his wife, Pat Kavanagh (they’d been married 30 years), is a mixture of history, fiction and memoir and is arranged in three sections: “The Sin of Height”, “On the Level” and “The Loss of Depth”. The opening paragraph establishes a theme: “You put together two things that have not been put together before. And the world is changed…”. Somewhat strangely (you might think), it begins on the subject of ballooning and photography (two wonders of the 19thy century), then deals with a fictionalised account of the relationship between one of the pioneering balloonists and Sarah Bernhadt, before concluding with Barnes's powerful account of/reflections on his wife’s death. I have no doubt that this is one of those books that I’ll re-read several times over future years. Beautiful.
Spies (Michael Frayn): This is a rather beautiful book. It’s a mystery/war story and a reflection on childhood from the perspective of old age. It’s set in England during WW2 and the title refers to two boys’ imagination of German agents within their quiet suburb. The actions of the boys brought back my own childhood memories of “secret clubs” and invented/unreal situations.
Sea Room (Adam Nicholson): This was my holiday book while we were in Scotland – and it just felt SO appropriate for our time there. Nicholson’s father bought the Shiants (three small,  isolated, craggy islands some 5 dangerous sea miles off Lewis, Scotland) for £1,400 over 70 years ago. Nicholson was given the islands by his father when he was 21 and will pass them on to his son Tom is 21. It’s an extraordinary and passionate book (“a love letter no one else could hope to write so well” according to a review in the Sunday Telegraph) and I loved it.

"sea room" connections

The above image shows, on the left hand side, the cover of Adam Nicholson’s extraordinary book “Sea Room” – which represented part of my holiday reading while staying at the Old Schoolhouse, Drimnin. The image on the right is a photograph (not a particularly good one and taken on what was our only cloudy day!) from our holiday bedroom… overlooking the Sound of Mull.

It proved to be the perfect “holiday read”.
The book is the “story of one man, three islands and half a million puffins”. Adam Nicholson’s father had bought the Shiants (three small, inhospitable islands set five dangerous sea miles off Lewis in Scotland) over 70 years ago for £1,400. Adam Nicholson was given the islands by his father, Nigel, when he was 21 and subsequently passed them on to his son Tom when he turned 21 in 2005 (the book was written in 2002). It’s a beautiful, passionate book (“a love letter no one else could hope to write so well” according to a review in the Sunday Telegraph) and I loved it.
But the book cover and the view from our holiday bedroom window was just the first of a series of small coincidences…
2.    Initially, I hadn’t made the connection between Adam and his grandfather Harold Nicholson. I had read “The Harold Nicholson Diaries 1907-1963” (edited by Nigel Nicholson) in November 2011 – about his times as a diplomat and conservative MP. As I noted in my blog at the time: “despite his privileged background… and his smugness and snobbery (at times)”, I found the diaries gave a fascinating portrayal of British politics in the first half of the 20^th century. Harold’s wife was poet/author/gardener, Vita Sackville-West. Adam Nicholson is married to Sarah Raven – gardener, writer, television presenter (you probably know all this… certainly, Moira did!).
3.    A good friend, Bob, lent me Nicholson’s book after a conversation (over red wine, I suspect) when I told him our (then) imminent holiday in the western isles. He decided that the book would make appropriate holiday reading… and how right he was!
4.    I think this was the fourth time we’d spent a holiday at Drimnin over the past 15 years but, in fact, we first had a holiday in this area 23 years ago (Easter 1990, blimey!) when we stayed in the Garden Flat at the impressive Ardtornish House, Lochaline (Jon Snow was a holiday neighbour and he and I spent many a happy hour chopping firewood together… well, a few minutes anyway!). The opportunity to stay at Ardtornish largely came about due to my architectural partner, Matthew, who had studied with the man who later became “factor” of the Ardtornish Estate. His name was Andrew Raven (he sadly died of cancer in 2005, aged 46).
5.    And, wait for it… Sarah Raven was Andrew Raven’s sister.
Well, I think they're slightly spooky connections/coincidences, anyway!