Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Windows series
Anne Wyeth McCoy.
'I never studied with anyone. My work is completely personal. I paint things in my house that I love - views through my windows; I paint my own life, that's all.'
It's not just the pleasing simplicity of the picture that is worth a moment of your time here - there's a a bit of background too. The artist comes from a family that produced four generations of painters, the most successful of whom is Andrew Wyeth. An interesting website traces the line. Their story suggests that to stretch the elastic of a family talent, it's quite a good idea to keep marrying into complementary gene banks. There is certainly an in-house style in operation and the varying degrees of skill shown in the family oeuvre make for an absorbing browse. And they are into windows in a big way.
| Permanent link
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
How long it seems since we handled the old library card catalogues; I guess a good few months of my life must have been given to creating, revising, filing - and cursing them. Nobody who has ever had to stand and withdraw the records & cross-references of a hundred books at a time will ever mourn their passing. Vive the OPAC. But nostalgia for the charm of old ways is evoked by a clever piece of software at blyberg.net. the Catalog Card Generator. Make your own; and while you do it, you might like to consider trying my idea of cards as well-disguised aides-memoires, as indicated by the entry on the card.
From a novel read today:
'She wasn't stupid, she'd been a bright young thing, read everything she'd got her hands on, always in the library, before George. She could remember that place in such detail; all the different smells, the listed rules, the little catalogue cards in dark blue, titles in capitals, author in small letters, the dank, promising smell between the shelves, then the yeasty smell of the books themselves and the Lily of the Valley on the Head Librarian when you went to get your library card stamped. She used to think that the gate to heaven would be like that, kindly but official with the smell of flowers.' ( L.Dean: Becoming Strangers)
There aren't many reading people who don't have a strong memory of the public library of their youth. As a teenager I used the whole family's tickets to gather my fortnightly supply from a local branch. When that stock became too familiar, a bus ride took me to fresh plunder at the central library. A place of marble floors and dark wood shelving, I'd struggle there and back, giant shopping bags loaded with random mixes of novels, poetry, art books, biographies of stars. I still feel the guilt of keeping a plate of Laurence Olivier as Romeo (wearing far too much lipstick) that fell out of a loose binding. At that time a Francophile, I consumed the whole of Zola, Sartre, Mauriac & all the romantic poets in a great glut of rather pretentious 'intellectual' absorbtion.
I always felt instantly comfortable in a library - as if I had come home and was among my friends. My librarian at the time was a dark-haired, pre-Raphaelite-ish woman with a notably big backside. I lost a copy of Eugene Onegin on the bus, and she let me off the replacement fee. After that, we were cordial, but she didn't do friendly; there was a conscious air of municipal reserve maintained in those days, somthing I later tried hard to dispel when my own turn came to work behind the library desks. I know what that character in the novel was getting at though, the library was a gateway, especially for people who had a severe reading habit, to a sort of heaven that would not have been possible otherwise.
| Permanent link
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Stay With Me Baby
Most of us watch our own faces very intimately throughout life, aware of lines and pulls of gravity as they arrive. But it's not possible really to catch the final moments of the metamorphoses that translate them from adolescence to maturity, from youth to middle age and onwards; one just suddenly IS that new person. The results are not subtle, but the progression is. It works like that for people close to us too and to an extent for the well-documented celebrities whose lives we follow. Occasionally one suddenly sees the ageing face of someone known only in youth and since unseen, the telescoped effects of time can be very shocking
I've been revelling in the rich pickings at You Tube now that I have broadband; tonight I watched a load of sixties groups, Procol Harum, Manfred Mann, Stones, Swinging Blue Jeans - and The Walker Brothers. I loved Scott Walker back then, an exceptionally beautiful young man with a sweet depth of voice. Over the years I bought his esoteric albums as they emerged, saw the odd photograph, read articles about him. But nothing prepared me for the man in an interview found among the music clips. Little recognizable remained of the original beauty. Here was a perfectly pleasant, nice-looking older guy, a bit priest-like with the air of an ascetic, but one who had nothing to do with the delicious image I had applied to his music for so long. It made me sad that I had to lose it, another small evidence that life's escalator moves onwards and upwards, gaining pace.
| Permanent link
Thursday, January 18, 2007
E.T. at the bottom of my garden
| Permanent link
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
 | You scored as Alice. You're a dreamer with a vivid imagination and the curiosity of a cat. You enjoy nonsense, and prefer it to the real world.
Which Alice in Wonderland Character are YOU? created with QuizFarm.com |
| Permanent link
Movie (Meme)
1. Popcorn or sweets?
The odd Malteser, never popcorn.
2. Name a movie you have been meaning to see forever.
Truffaut: Quatre Cent Coups.
3. You are given the power to recall one Oscar: Who loses theirs and to whom?
Strip it from the historical travesty Braveheart and hand to Il Postino both nominated for best picture in 1995.
4. Steal one costume from a movie for your wardrobe. Which will it be?
Garbo's black dress in Queen Christina.
5. Your favorite film franchise is?
Harry Potter.
6. Invite five movie people over for dinner. Who are they? Why did you invite them? What do you feed them?
Cate Blanchett, Michael Gambon, Mel Brooks, Helen Mirren, Michael Palin.
Buckets of charm, wit guaranteed, enough edge on them work up a touch of abrasiveness. Gambon would get pissed & misbehave, but we could handle that. They would eat big friendly bowls of aioli, warm bread and crudites /filet steak & salad/treacle tart.
7. What is the appropriate punishment for people who answer cell phones in the cinema?
Obligatory giant tub of hot chili popcorn, no Coke.
8. Choose a female bodyguard.
Sigourney Weaver
9. What's the scariest thing you have ever seen in a movie?
The bear in The Edge, I have nightmares of such a pursuit.
10. Your favorite genre (excluding comedy and drama) is?
Hollywood epics. Or anything set in India: Pather Panchali, Heat & Dust, Passage, Ghandi, Fire, Pyaasa, Two Daughters, Shakespeare Wallah, Waris Hussein's Sixth Happiness. Any old late night Bollywood with subtitles.
11. You are given the power to greenlight movies at a major studio for one year. How do you wield this power?
I'd be a bit chauviniste and call an intimate conference of British directors and screenwriters; their brief, to firm up ambitious ideas for four strong big budget movies. (Maybe a life of Mother Theresa directed by Gurinder Chadha; Polanski to have a crack at Proust: Nick Park to do something plasticene on Strictly Ballroom: make a grab at Daniel Craig on the crest of his wave for a remake of Wuthering Heights.) I'd give Tim Burton time & money to make what he wanted post Corpse Bride, likewise Roger Michell & Kevin Macdonald. And a cluster of encouragements for new starters. I'd re-invest some profits in a better marketing machine for the Brits.
12. Bonnie or Clyde?
Neither of those bloody bullet-riddled heralds of the age of screen violence.
(Meme found on One Word )
The odd Malteser, never popcorn.
2. Name a movie you have been meaning to see forever.
Truffaut: Quatre Cent Coups.
3. You are given the power to recall one Oscar: Who loses theirs and to whom?
Strip it from the historical travesty Braveheart and hand to Il Postino both nominated for best picture in 1995.
4. Steal one costume from a movie for your wardrobe. Which will it be?
Garbo's black dress in Queen Christina.
5. Your favorite film franchise is?
Harry Potter.
6. Invite five movie people over for dinner. Who are they? Why did you invite them? What do you feed them?
Cate Blanchett, Michael Gambon, Mel Brooks, Helen Mirren, Michael Palin.
Buckets of charm, wit guaranteed, enough edge on them work up a touch of abrasiveness. Gambon would get pissed & misbehave, but we could handle that. They would eat big friendly bowls of aioli, warm bread and crudites /filet steak & salad/treacle tart.
7. What is the appropriate punishment for people who answer cell phones in the cinema?
Obligatory giant tub of hot chili popcorn, no Coke.
8. Choose a female bodyguard.
Sigourney Weaver
9. What's the scariest thing you have ever seen in a movie?
The bear in The Edge, I have nightmares of such a pursuit.
10. Your favorite genre (excluding comedy and drama) is?
Hollywood epics. Or anything set in India: Pather Panchali, Heat & Dust, Passage, Ghandi, Fire, Pyaasa, Two Daughters, Shakespeare Wallah, Waris Hussein's Sixth Happiness. Any old late night Bollywood with subtitles.
11. You are given the power to greenlight movies at a major studio for one year. How do you wield this power?
I'd be a bit chauviniste and call an intimate conference of British directors and screenwriters; their brief, to firm up ambitious ideas for four strong big budget movies. (Maybe a life of Mother Theresa directed by Gurinder Chadha; Polanski to have a crack at Proust: Nick Park to do something plasticene on Strictly Ballroom: make a grab at Daniel Craig on the crest of his wave for a remake of Wuthering Heights.) I'd give Tim Burton time & money to make what he wanted post Corpse Bride, likewise Roger Michell & Kevin Macdonald. And a cluster of encouragements for new starters. I'd re-invest some profits in a better marketing machine for the Brits.
12. Bonnie or Clyde?
Neither of those bloody bullet-riddled heralds of the age of screen violence.
(Meme found on One Word )
| Permanent link
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Windows series
| Permanent link
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Inter alia
Have you heard of a minisery? I was reading someone's filmography at Imdb and it mentioned a couple of times the actor's participation in the miniseries. I honestly didn't pick up the real sense at all, interpreting it as some sort of medieval band of performers. Should it have a hyphen, do you think?
This looks like a jolly little read, new to me though it has been out a while. I fancy a touch of gentle parody as a change from the usual diet of brutish political viciousness. I note from the Amazon reviews that Parris liked it. I might stump up for a second-hand copy
You might also enjoy a wander down the Blair years with Private Eye. Just select Tony in the covers list.
A strange and beautiful photograph that I bookmarked a while ago; I remembered it today when we saw a pair of crows in the garden again. I'm sure they are the offspring of the Osbournes, a noisy pair of foul-mouthed cawers that nested in the pines last spring.
I went to the sales today to buy two single beds for the guest room. The salesgirl was a lot of fun and encouraged plenty of bouncing about; nothing bad happened as in the famous water bed video. She did make me laugh when I chose a model with a large under-bed storage space; "Handy that," she said "if your husband comes home unexpectedly".
This looks like a jolly little read, new to me though it has been out a while. I fancy a touch of gentle parody as a change from the usual diet of brutish political viciousness. I note from the Amazon reviews that Parris liked it. I might stump up for a second-hand copyYou might also enjoy a wander down the Blair years with Private Eye. Just select Tony in the covers list.
A strange and beautiful photograph that I bookmarked a while ago; I remembered it today when we saw a pair of crows in the garden again. I'm sure they are the offspring of the Osbournes, a noisy pair of foul-mouthed cawers that nested in the pines last spring.
I went to the sales today to buy two single beds for the guest room. The salesgirl was a lot of fun and encouraged plenty of bouncing about; nothing bad happened as in the famous water bed video. She did make me laugh when I chose a model with a large under-bed storage space; "Handy that," she said "if your husband comes home unexpectedly".
| Permanent link
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Choral clicks
There was some fine choral music about over Christmas.
The King's College Chapel Nine Lessons & Carols was heaven.
- That acoustic is so special.
- They chose a modern carol Lux Aurumque* which soared and swam around just like golden light.
- music by the American composer Eric Whitacre
(*link to choral version added)
BBC4 offered Colin Davis' swansong as principal conductor of the LSO - an engaging and minimal Messiah done with small chorus and soloists who sang with a pleasing individuality. I was having supper in front of the TV and nearly choked on my sausage roll while joining in the jolly bits. It's a bit flippant, but the tenor, Mark Padmore, is a dead ringer for T. Blair. It was bizarre to see our leader thus, pity he wasn't the bass - then he could have sung "Why do the nations so furiously rage together?" with some conviction.
| Permanent link
Tempting
| Permanent link
New Year's Eve morning
Needing to buy stuff for the evening's bit-of-a-do I set off early to Waitrose in Swaffham. After days of boring grey skies came the first brilliant sunshine of the holiday, it flattered the landscape into spring mode and, though it didn't last, did wonders to dispel that lingering SAD feeling.
With the shopping in the boot, I chose the long way home, round a string of villages, past meadows full of cows and molehills, new-ploughed land rose in sharp, narrowing perspectives to the sky. On a whim, I turned for Shingham, feeling the pull of an hour's peace by its church and the promise of some pictures.
Heading home past Oxburgh, there was a glimpse through the gates of the moated house where we had had fun at a "Victorian Christmas" event with the children a week before. A stern looking old lady, dressed-up in a lace cap and pince-nez, gave a couple of ill-behaved kids a telling-off in the old style; their abashed faces were a wonder to behold. I forgot my camera.
I had been looking for a photo of a sugar beet 'clamp' to go with a piece of Norfolk humour. I found a beauty; these great piles of beet, a vital local crop with a new potential, sit waiting for lorries to transport them to the processing plant at Whissington. Here's the dialect gem that E. Daily Press reader, W. Esden, submitted.
With the shopping in the boot, I chose the long way home, round a string of villages, past meadows full of cows and molehills, new-ploughed land rose in sharp, narrowing perspectives to the sky. On a whim, I turned for Shingham, feeling the pull of an hour's peace by its church and the promise of some pictures.
Heading home past Oxburgh, there was a glimpse through the gates of the moated house where we had had fun at a "Victorian Christmas" event with the children a week before. A stern looking old lady, dressed-up in a lace cap and pince-nez, gave a couple of ill-behaved kids a telling-off in the old style; their abashed faces were a wonder to behold. I forgot my camera.
I had been looking for a photo of a sugar beet 'clamp' to go with a piece of Norfolk humour. I found a beauty; these great piles of beet, a vital local crop with a new potential, sit waiting for lorries to transport them to the processing plant at Whissington. Here's the dialect gem that E. Daily Press reader, W. Esden, submitted.
Noendonem Are Coming In
The old Norfolk habit of running several words into each other is shown in this account of growing and harvesting sugar beet in the days before mechanisation. The busy programme carried out by two landgirls 'and a reluctant hoss' went like this:
Adrillinonem
Ahoenonemwiaoss
Achopenonemout
Asinglenonem
Afeedinonem
Ahoenonemaginwiaoss
Amowldenonemup
Ahoenonemaginwiaoss
Apullenonem
Aknockenanopenonem
Acountenonem
This wasn't the endonem as they had to be loaded onto a tumbril and taken two miles to the station. The romance seems to have gone out of farming these days. But some say goodriddancetewit!
