Sibelius

Friday night...seemingly no longer Cava Night but increasingly Culture Night! Oh yes, this time around my very own Newsnight Review landed in the Barbican for a performance of Sibelius' 1st and 3rd symphonies - but not in that order. Also on the menu something else by someone else from Finland which was frankly rubbish - serving to demonstrate only how marvelous Mr S really is/was. Like hanging out with an ugly buddy.

Anyhow twas all good. The Barbican was on legendary form. Full to the brim with retired headteachers types - the kind who were running schools in the 70s. the Finnish conductor was flounce-tastic, quite absurd really but he sort of got away with it. Inspite of his very silly bow and instance on having at least 4 walk on...walk offs in the run up to home time as we clapped our little hands off. Get over it.

Orchestra geeks will be interested to note that the LA Philharmonic were spread unconventionally across the stage for the performance of the 3rd symphony. Namely the Cellos were sitting where the Second Violins should be and vice versa. And, there were loads more Double Bases than normal - I think. Gave the opening movement some real GUTs. Mentioned it to my brother the next day (he knows loads about orchestras) - his response "its sooo cool when they do that". There you go.

So, the Sibelius gig was part of a programme put on by the Barbican to commemorate the 50th anniversary of Sibelius' death. FAB, and frankly I'd have no interest in Finland were it not for Mr S - so more the better. Such a shame, therefore, that Finland was coincidentally in the headlines last week...not because of the celebration of Sibelius - but because of Europe's worst school shooting in many years. How sad and depressing. In stark contrast to the wrenching optimism that bounces out of almost everything Sibelius ever wrote....

Very Scary Nurses

So - just had a fab weekend and it started in a very fab - though scary way. Friday night off I went with SW to see Macbeth at the Gielgud. Wasn't quite sure what I was expecting.....but it ain't what I got - though in a good/very scary way...

So...this production had the dude from star trek (a Labour party supporter no less - originally from Yorkshire...) in the title role and a chick with some fab frocks (and great bum...according to SW, though I hadn't noticed) as Lady Mac...either which way, both were stunning. Moreover the whole design/idea really worked for me. Set in an interwar dystopia (early 30's?)....in a sort of basement/morgue/kitchen....pre-conceptions were immediately knocked for six as the ubiquitous witches were cast as nurses in a field hospital....they closed the first scene by murdering an injured solider (nice). Throughout the whole production they spooked about the place...with a real menace. OOOHH soooo scary! Wot eva you do...don't get ill in Macbeth's Scotland...cos the nurses will getcha.

In other highlights...there were loads of real guns...and a sink that worked (i.e. it was plumbed in and everything...how cool??!). The first half closed with Banquo's ghost turning up for tea in a dramatic bloodfest kind of way....thank God we'd pre-ordered large gin and tonics for the break - is all I can say.

Ever since, I've been having bad dreams about WW1 nurses in Gas Masks... where are the cognitive behavioural therapists when you need one..??!

later

Spell CHEKA

At some time in 1981, my Dad took me into his office/lab thing in Sheffield to show me the new Apple Computer they had just had "installed" in the computer room (as in the room that housed THE computer...) anyhow...my Dad being a bit of a card, had discovered the spell checker function on the word processing software and had spent a blissful afternoon typing in his mates names and seeing how the spell checker coped...accordingly his recommended alternative name was suggested as "Deviant Mauler" and one of his buddies..."Richer Pomposity"...how we laughed.....

Ever since, I've been marginally intrigued with spell checkers...not least because I'm a hopeless speller. But just who is it who decides what alternative words are suggested - which words go in the dictionary....are there some social truths hidden in the computer programme...? For example...I always thought it a bit weird that Microsoft Word didn't have "internet" in its spell checker for years....you had to write "the Internet"...(ok like wot eva)...Noika handsets with predictive txt (spell checkers for the new generation..) are great so long as you never want to swear or use rude words..."fucker" is predicted as "ducker"...."penis" is translated to "remis"...I was texting the guy who is doing some decorating in my place the otherday....tapped in "paint" - Noika turned it into "saint"....is there really a part of the world where "saint" is used more than "paint"?

May be - who knows/cares

OK - I'll go out and get a life now

Saying goodbye to the summer

This weekend, we went to the seaside to say goodbye to the summer.

Aldeburgh - what a magical place as you crunch across the shingle to Thorpeness. Haunting almost. J&D had consumed a pocket full of cute pills enroute and were pretty marvelous...

We caused a scene by not driving up the high street in a SAAB or VOLVO...AND we didn't que for fish and chips. Nope we had cheese and ham sarnies....with crisps stuffed in.

On leaving the A12 on approach...we played English Folk Music very loudly to get in the mood...

Saturday was a day when life was lived

Brian ENO

How have I never found you before? Where have you been all my life? You utter, utter, utter, mind blowing legend. Life will never be the same again. Thank you for being alive and for synthesising....

The South Circular

I've been hanging out with some folk from South London recently and they love it - South London that is. Never quite seen it myself...probably on account of the fact that I've not really seen it. Students of geography note: the impact of big rivers on human discourse...I've lived in London 13 years and probably visited south of the river....about 13 times. Which is quite shameful. Almost as bad as my 20 years of childhood in South Yorkshire, in which time I only ever visited Barnsley - err once.

Come to think of it, I did date someone who lived in Stoneleigh, for about a year. But her flat was about two miles inside the Surrey border, so I'm figuring that doesn't really count.

But there is something deeper
I had a fabulous evening in Crystal Palace in August. But with this notable exception, generally speaking bad things happen to me when I head South. My two previous trips across the water involved: a) me driving into the back of a 4x4 causing £3750 worth of damage to my motor (and not a scratch on the 4x4...tax the fuckers); b) me returning North to find my flat burgled (vigilante death squads anyone?) So it was with trepidation that J, D and I set off on the South Circ for my sister's surprise house warming in Beckenham (who'd have thought it?). True to form, the South Circular was utterly ghastly....a 14 mile journey took 2 hours....but the party was great. Sisters new boyfriend is a legend. A prime example of how the nice guy can win through. He loves her, so is nice to her. A simple concept - lost on many.

So one way or another, CJD will find excuses to learn more about our southern brothers and sisters. But we will do so avoiding the South Circular. It has to be the shitest, doom ridden, randomly signed excuse for a road in the history of shite, doom ridden, randomly signed excuses for roads eva. Love and kisses CJD

OK

CJD think we're ready to launch this blog. Here goes nothing

Sausage Shop Shocker

We saw this on the way back from my sisters this morning. The mind boggles.

Cafe De Paris

I've had a bit of a funny week. So last night - to cheer myself up - I went on a solo mission to Cafe De Paris. Cool. Every Friday they host Cafe Rocks a showcase for new bands and talent.
Headlining were a band called The Nites......but oh dear, oh dear, oh dear... they were shocking. So bad, in fact, I thought they were taking the piss. The lead singer clearly thought he was the son of Jim Morrison....when he so wasn't. In short, an uninspiring noise of heard it all before tosh.
In stark contrast were Tale of Two Halves...bascially a guy on a piano singing, and a dude bashing along on a drum kit. They were fantastic, loads of energy - they completely brought the house down. Quite geeky too. CJD WILL be seeing them again.

Zac Goldsmith: we should listen to what he says-he speaks from personal experience

Material wealth is not the secret to happiness: so say the Tories in their latest policy ramble (well it is a ramble at 549 pages..).

Speaking from personal experience the multi-multi-multi millionaire report author Zac Goldsmith writes....."...beyond a certain point - a point which the UK reached some time ago - ever increasing material gain can become not a gift but a burden". Really Zac? well done you for a) pointing out the fucking obvious and b) forbeing party to one of the most un self aware political publications of all time...

Mr D Cameron really needs to get his act together. If they carry on like this then the Tories are fucked.

POST SCRIPT: check out Zac's Wikipedia entry. One word.....crushing.

Normal just took a nose dive

Missing Madeleine: If anyone took and harmed J or D - I would want to find them and then kill them. No calm press conferences, media strategies, little chats on Woman's Hour about how I was feeling about it - nope, it would be animal and horrible. Or at least that's how I think I'd react. Who knows? Lets hope to God I never find out. But it does make you think...

...which is why the mystery of missing Maddie is turning into THE human interest story of the moment/year/decade(?) So many dimensions: it's "every parent's nightmare"; the bizarre twisting plot of her parents; and the ebb and flow of our faith and trust in pretty much everything - the media, our reaction to the media, the police, foreigners, yummy mummy's (come on...its being talked about..) catholics, forensic science, men who live with their mothers (and clean their drives...you gotta watch um), parents, those nice GPs...normal people.

J&D and I are normal, well normalish (divorced and stuff...but that's normal yeh?). But if the whole world were dissecting the intimacy of our family life, then I'm guessing people would figure that aspects of our lives are a bit weird. Enter stage the left the McCanns. They are seemingly so normal it hurts, but then they leave their kids when they go out for their dinner. Do other people do this sort of stuff? After the fact there's the whole media management thing. They want to find their kid, so anything goes....including on stage and being interviewed at the Edinburgh Fringe...??? The whole hanging about in Portugal.....visiting the Pope, clutching the teddy, continuing to keep a diary. Feels pretty weird to me...but then I'm not the one with the missing kid....

This week, we get the real kick in the guts....The notion of the predatory stranger seizing Madeleine was terrifying but 'normal' - not weird - not unexpected, we have the psychological space to compute etc. With the naming of the parents themselves as suspects - well - we're suddenly all over the place. Forget shaking the kaleidoscope - its smashed in bits on the floor. So now they're either normal/a bit weird and the victims of a really, really horrible smear....or...they're cold, psychotic killers responsible for the death of their own child...Heavy stuff.

Lets hope its the former and that the little girl gets found (and if so, then we're gonna feel real guilty about the shit we've been gossiping and bitching about - me included)....If its the latter, then we're in for one huge collective psychological head fuck. A whole new depth to how weird and fucked up the most normal of normals can seem, but not be.

North Wales: Hogs for Trogs

So a couple of weeks ago J&D climbed their first mountain. J without attention to risk and D mindful of how wet his trousers were getting (and not liking it - a lot). D lost the plot about half the way down - not a good look for a future boxer. A point lost on him. J rubbed it in. Later that evening we attended a Church related Hog Roast via Grandma. We sold some Mayonnaise and a home made Chutney in aid of a Dentist practice in Gazza....A collective mass charming of Grannies occurred. D told his "crab with only one eye story". I reflected on how utterly ugly everyone was in this particular part of the world. The beautiful clearly escape. Accordingly we returned to London the very next day.