Sunday, 7 February 2010

'We sat here together just to pass time'*

(* The Coffee Song by Colton and Smith)
(Morning Underground by Weaver Hawkins)

Met up at The Art Gallery of NSW for afternoon coffee with Rt and Jy, down from the Gold Coast to see the Edinburgh Tattoo, and with An. Whilst waiting for them I browsed the Australian section and snapped Hawkins' painting that has always appealed to me.

It was terrific to see the Gallery packed with visitors on this wet Sunday. Lots of families around enjoying the free entertainment available for children and lots of eye candy regardless of your sexual orientation. So lively compared with weekdays which is usually when I visit.

Friday, 5 February 2010

Let the stormy clouds chase...

(* 'Singin In The Rain' by Nacio Herb Brown and Arthur Freed)
As severe thunderstorms descend upon Sydney this afternoon.

Thursday, 4 February 2010

Tuning in and out

Ae was telling me of some problems with her television reception and mentioned that she does not receive the two newest free to air digital channels. I asked whether she had re-tuned her set for the new channels and that was the first she knew this was required. I offered to do it for her when it was clear she had no idea how.

I should not have bothered.

I turned up as arranged just after midday giving Ae time to walk her dog along with her dog walking friends.

To start with, Ae could not find the television manual. Then she wasn't sure which remote control operated the television. This surprised me given that Ae says she uses the television regularly. Anyway, I found the correct remote and also brought up the menu for system setting. A dialogue box asked me for the PIN and again Ae was stumped but after some thought she suggested the 'number' was her dog's name! This obviously was not correct and I guessed, correctly, that Ae had never reset the PIN from the factory setting.

At this point, and rather belatedly, it dawned on me that Ae was behaving strangely. Not only could I barely understand what she was saying but she was whispering oddly. And then I realised she was tanked. Drunk but not too disorderly from a morning's dog walking!

I should have stopped at that point but pressed on. I ran the auto tune and brought up the new channels but I could see that other minor channels were not being set and the reception problem was still noticeable. Deciding that a new indoor aerial might do the trick I ventured to a nearby Dick Smith's telling Ae I would only be half an hour. When I returned Ae was nowhere to be seen. She had decided to drive(!) to a nearby restaurant to get us some Thai takeaway for lunch. On her return I watched nervously as she maneuvered her car back in to her small off street parking space.

I had a few more goes at the auto tune without much success, eventually giving up and bidding Ae an apologetic farewell. I'm not sure who was more relieved at my departure; me for getting away or Ae who clearly was ready to do her own tuning out on the nearest sofa.

Wednesday, 3 February 2010

Tuesday, 2 February 2010

Six Impossible Things Before Dinner

(Philip Escoffey)

Psychic powers, fortune telling, mind reading and the like. Are you a believer or a sceptic or anywhere in between? It doesn't matter which, you will almost certainly be impressed when Philip Escoffey performs "Six Impossible Things Before Dinner" just as I was earlier this evening.

In a very clever performance, punctuated with witty adlibbing, Escoffey engages the audience and baffles and amazes for 90 minutes.

Make sure you take a parting gift when you leave the theatre so that you can savour his final flourish.

Highly recommended.

Monday, 1 February 2010

In The Loop

I enjoyed the BBC comedy series 'The Thick of It' in which a foul mouthed British Prime Ministerial senior staffer terrorises hapless Ministers and their staff for their political ineptness.

"In The Loop" is an off shoot from that series using some of the same performers to recreate how British and American bureaucrats engaged in 'negotiations' leading to the US intervention in Iraq. It is all wildly exaggerated - at least I hope it is - and wildly funny as well, provided that you can see the funny side of workplace harrassment, personal abuse and Government bureaucracy gone mad.

Having worked for a Government bureaucracy myself at a reasonably responsible level I can see plenty of truth hidden in the on screen buffonery.

All the best comedy has an underlying basis of truth.

Saturday, 30 January 2010

Tosca

Rosario La Spina (Cavaradossi) and Takesha Meshe Kizart (Tosca) during Act 1.

I have a special place in my memory and heart for 'Tosca'. My father introduced me to opera through a recording of Puccini's work over fifty years ago before I had reached ten years of age. I remember the circumstances vividly to this day.

It was a Saturday. My mother had won the princely sum of £10 in the State Lotteries, an amount which went a long way in those days. She asked my father to collect her winnings for her whilst she worked. My father took me with him into town to collect the cash and then we went straight to a record store where he spent half those winnings purchasing a two record set of the complete recording.

I still remember him asking the store clerk to play Scarpia's aria during the finale to Act 1 so he could check on the quality of the voice of a singer unknown to him, George London. The two of us crammed into a booth where the relevant portion of the disc was played for us. My father wasn't interested in listening to the rest as he was familiar with Mario Del Monaco (Cavaradossi) and Renata Tebaldi (Tosca), famous singers in the 1940s/50s whose voices he was certain would thrill. At the time all those names meant nothing to me, of course. Once satisfied that George London made a satisfactory Scarpia, my father purchased the recording.

We returned home where my father immediately played the full opera on our player arming me with the libretto so I could follow the English translation of the action. Even at that tender age my gay genes picked up on Puccini's passionate music and I was hooked - for life as it transpires.

Needless to say my mother was less than impressed when she came home from work to find her husband had spent a third of her winnings on a present for himself.

I have seen numerous productions of Tosca since then both in London at the Royal Opera House as well as in Sydney. All of those productions have been traditional; Act 1 set in a church, Act 2 set in Scarpia's apartment and Act 3 on the parapet at Castel Sant Angelo.

The current production in Sydney, which I saw last night, originated at Opera North in the United Kingdom and it throws tradition out the window. Not only is the setting updated to modern times but the locations, action and the famous ending have been radically, even shockingly, changed. Tosca, with its murders, suicides, torture and attempted rape has been described as a 'pot boiler' and I think it fits quite comfortably in a more modern setting even though that makes some of the libretto references appear odd. The other major changes are a matter of personal taste. In my case, I found this the most enthralling production I have attended. I was almost completely won over - there were some moments I thought were plain silly - but otherwise the more I mulled over what I had seen afterwards the more excited I was by the interpretation.

None of this would have rated however had the singing not been been up to scratch but I am happy to record that the singers were splendid. The three principals, Takesha Meshe Kizart (Tosca), Rosario La Spina (Cavaradossi) and John Wegner (Scarpia) all were outstanding.
John Wegner (Scarpia) and Takesha Meshe Kizart (Tosca).
The Opera Theatre during intermission last night.

Friday, 29 January 2010

An inconvenient truth


Yesterday morning my toilet packed it in. The flush wouldn't flush. I called in my favourite plumber, Phil who true to form responded quickly and provided excellent eye candy for me whilst he grappled with my antiquated toilet. It appeared he had fixed the fault but sadly an hour after he departed it broke down again.

This is, to say the least, an inconvenience. I only have the one toilet in my apartment and until the problem is rectified I have to rely on a common property toilet located in the foyer of the building five floors down.

We senior citizens require regular toilet stops not the least in the course of the night. I sleep naked and I suspect my neighbours would not approve of me roaming the building starkers in order to attend to my toileting needs.

I'm recalling Phil for a further go at the inconvenient convenience. He better succeed this time otherwise I might need to hire a Portaloo.

Thursday, 28 January 2010

Optimism


At the Sydney Theatre Company, Optimism, very liberally (according to Mk) adapted from Voltaire's Candide apparently retains little more than the characters from Voltaire's work. In this staging, which defies my powers of description, the characters fly from country to country somehow surviving a series of violent and excruciating calamaties.

The performances are skillful, none more so than Frank Woodley whose wit and ad libbing skills are used to great effect.

Wednesday, 27 January 2010

Rupert Bunny


Earlier in the week we went to the Art Gallery to see the Rupert Bunny exhibition. Although subtitled Artist in Paris the works on display were not confined to his paintings in France.

Bunny certainly produced diverse work. I wasn't keen on his religious paintings and those featuring nymphs, sirens and the like. I did like his portraits, still life and some of the leisure scenes, especially those set in the Luxembourg Gardens.

Tuesday, 26 January 2010

Australia Day

Festivities on the harbour today celebrating Australia Day.


Shooting Through


"Shooting through like a Bondi tram", a saying familiar to Sydneysiders especially in the first half of the twentieth century deriving from the supposed speed of the trams that ran the line to Bondi Beach. The saying meant to move, or get away, quickly.

As a child, I was fascinated by trams and planned that I would be a tram driver when I grew up only to be thwarthed when the Government shut down the entire Sydney tram network in the early 1960s. What was once one of the largest tram networks in the world disappeared.

The Sydney Tramway Museum does its best to retain memories of Sydney's former glorious system including by its DVD, Shooting Through, that chronicles the network in detail and of which I was reminded when I read Andrew's post.

I first came across Shooting Through, as a video, in bizarre circumstances more than 20 years ago. I was at the Bodyline Gay Sauna on a very quiet weekday morning and wandered into the screening room where customers would normally expect porn to be screening. To my surprise, instead of porn, the huge screen presented me with silent images of trams travelling around Sydney. Like Nero in ancient Rome, I planted myself down lengthways on a lounge and wearing only a sauna issued towel I watched old trams silently criss cross the screen for the next hour or so.

I have no idea what possessed the duty manager to screen that video in a gay sauna but the thought occurred to me later when I learned what the video was called that he had seen the title on the cover and assumed he was screening a tittilating orgasmic movie.

Monday, 25 January 2010

Nine


It is an embarrassing admission when I see so many movies and love just sitting in a cinema that I have never seen Fellini's ; regarded as an all time classic.

Nine is the musical based on the Fellini film.

Daniel Day-Lewis is the noted Italian director who may be over the hill and who is struggling to create a new movie if only he could come up with a script or better still some idea of what his movie is about. He is grappling with his past and the women in his life. They include his wife, Marion Cotillard, his mistress, Penelope Cruz, his favourite leading lady, Nicole Kidman, his costume designer, Judi Dench, the journalist pursuing him, Kate Hudson, his mother, Sophia Loren and his childhood lust object, Fergie.

Dench is her usual self, full of wry observations and the screen is alive whenever she appears. I'm enamoured of Cotillard who impresses in every role and makes a lot from her limited opportunities here. If I were straight I would be in lust with Cotillard. Fergie scores the musical's show stopper and her sequence is my favourite in the film.

I've read that Nine has been panned overseas. I'm not sure why although I acknowledge that as a musical, the work itself is on the average side. The film is basically a series of set musical pieces separated by the focus on an endlessly morose and duplicitious main character. But I liked the style and look of the film which evokes my own memories of Italian movies in the 1960s.

Sunday, 24 January 2010

Away above the chimney tops...

(* "Over The Rainbow", Harold Arlen and E Y Harburg.)


(Click photo to enlarge.)

I don't live at the end of the rainbow but I do live in the building at the left of the Harbour Bridge from which the arch appears to emerge.

The photo was taken earlier in the week as I ate (or 'et' as Andrew would say) a healthy salad lunch on the balcony at Westfield Bondi Junction.

Saturday, 23 January 2010

Red Lantern

We ate dinner last night at the Red Lantern in Surry Hills sharing entrees of Goi Cuon and Muc Rang Muoi followed by the mains, Con Dom Hap, Ga Chien Don and Cari De. It was my first time at this restaurant.

Our table was located in the front underneath the restaurant sign although, unlike this photo taken from the internet, the shades were down following a heavy downpour of rain which itself had come as a relief after a day of 41c (105.8f) heat.

It was a delicious meal. Just a pity that the restaurant's popularity meant that there were three fixed sittings last night and there was the slight sense of us being pushed through ahead of the next sitting. We strolled a few blocks up Crown Street afterwards for our coffees.

Friday, 22 January 2010

Between the sails

(Click photo to enlarge)

Bridge climbers seen between the sails from the forecourt of the Opera House today.

Wednesday, 20 January 2010

Tot Mom


American director Steven Soderbergh has created Tot Mom for the Sydney Theatre Company.

The play concerns a case currently in the news in the United States where a two years' old child, Caylee Anthony, went missing in 2008 and the child's mother was subsequently charged with murder. By coincidence the murder trial commences tomorrow.

The play focusses on the media attention given to the case; in particular by a current affairs journalist Nancy Grace. I've never heard of Ms Grace but the program notes states that her nightly show has made headlines around the world for its intense, and sometimes controversial, coverage of high profile cases. The play is not acted out in the traditional sense. Ms Grace is never seen in person but she inhabits the entire play through her presence on large television screens delivering her 'shock jock' style of questioning and comments. The various characters, expert witnesses and other contributors sit in a row on stage delivering their lines when the spotlight shines on them.

This is not the first time I have seen a play where the entire dialogue has been based on recorded transcripts but whereas those I have seen previously came across as dull and clumsy this play maintained my attention and interest.

The performances cleverly echoed the cadences and tempo in the modern trend of media sensationalism which has become all too familiar to us nowadays. Listening to this play I was reminded of the Azaria Chamberlain case and of various notorious Australian radio journalists who will remain unnamed by me.

Tuesday, 19 January 2010

Good times and bum times, I've seen them all...

(* "I'm Still Here", from Follies, Stephen Sondheim)

I saw my doctor this morning to renew my prescriptions. No problems for me to report to him but it is that time of year for him to organise a series of annual tests to determine my overall state of health.

He - or at least his heavily pregnant assistant - checked my blood pressure, weight, body fat and also put me through an ECG. Blood pressure was excellent and Doctor expresses he is 'very happy' about that. Bully for him; it's my blood pressure. Weight a little bit up. Not so happy now, he knows how hard it is to lose weight as you (that is, me) get older and, heck, he was once over 100 kilos. Again, bully for him, I have never reached 100 kilos. I must eat smaller portions he informs me in a serious tone and cut down on pasta, rice and noodles. These, of course, all are favourites of mine.

ECG shows my heart is working well. So there!, to those former lovers who thought me heartless.

Then on to the blood tests. He issues me a referral for sufficient blood tests to meet the needs of a battalion of men. Discreetly he ponders should he include tests for my sexual health? Sheepishly I admit an absence of sexual activity since my previous testing to warrant an update in that area. Embarrasingly, my admission appears to be no surprise to him.

Oh well, I suppose he is familiar with the senior variety of the gay species.

And, I'm still here.