Just a quick update on live music over the past week or so….
Monday 21st May – The Hilltop Hoods – Islington Carling Academy – Brilliant! Australian hiphop – my friend Groova’s favourite band – from Adelaide. My favourite line:
“I make origami of your lyrics” “Geez that’s good – what is it?” “It’s a swan”
Monday 28th May – Miriam Makeba – Trafalgar Square – Brilliant! As part of the “Africa Day” concert, my friend David and I went to see “Mama Afrika” and her band (including her amazing 12 year great grandson on drums!!). Unfortunately the weather wasn’t very African!
Diana and I went to visit Monica, who lives in Oslo. We were all in Malawi at the same time a couple of years ago.
After arriving late on Wednesday night, we were awakened on Thursday morning to a beautiful champagne breakfast. It was the 17th May - Norways National Day. Monica's friend Moona joined us for breakfast. Both looked gorgeous in their national outfits.
After breakfast we made our way into the centre of Oslo where the streets were packed with celebrating people, many wearing their national dress, which differs depending on where in Norway you come from. Moona had advised us that it was acceptable to stare at the men on national day. We didn't really understand what she was talking about until, while on the tube, a man walked on. The men's national dress is incredibly dashing - sort of Jane Austen style!!
There was a huge parade up the main street and past the palace, where the King and Queen waved from the balcony. Hundreds of school children were part of the parade, representing their school, as well as brass bands. There were flags everywhere and everyone was in great spirits. On the right is Moni climbing over the rails in order to cross the road - not very easy in national dress! Note one of the dashing men looking on!!
After watching and enjoying the parade, we headed down to the docks for a polser (hotdog) and an icecream. We would later become addicted to polser.
You can see on the left - the traditional mobile phone carriers.
Later on we went to a concert in the park where bands were playing. One of the bands was brilliant - so we had to buy the cd. To hear some Norwegian tunes - check out their myspace here The next day we took a boat on the fjord to get to Bygdoy (pronounced Bigday) to visit some museums.
The Fram museum (below - Aframe) houses the ship Fram, which sailed to the Arctic and Antartic around the beginning of the 20th Century. It is thought to be the strongest ship ever built and took some of Norway's most famous explorers, including Roald Amundsen. You could go onboard the ship. Absolutely brilliant museum.
The other museum held the raft Kon Tiki and the papyrus boat Ra II. Thor Heyerdahl, the Norwegian explorer sailed the balsa wood Kon Tiki from South America to Polynesia in 1947, and the papyrus Ra II from West Africa to the Caribbean to prove that there was contact between these places. On the right is Ra II.
Below - we are enjoying the most delicious curry in Oslo :)
Later we went to Vigeland Park, which is, I think, the most amazing park I have ever been to.
Gustav Vigeland was a Norwegian sculptor who created the hundreds of statues in the park, some bronze, some stone, all in the theme of the "Human Condition". The expressions on the faces of the sculptures are beautiful.
Below is one of the most famous sculptures - a VERY cross little boy!!
The next day we went to an enormous ski jump on a hill overlooking Oslo, where we went on a ski simulator - woohoo! The view was fantastic. Later to the Munch museum (didn't manage to steal anything).
Please bear with me while I despair – this won’t take long. I am having a why-on-earth-did-I-CHOOSE-to-go-back-to-uni moment...
There are three days left of this essay. I have started twitching and talking to myself. I feel like I have been in the library forever and the highlight of my weekend was the Eurovision Song Contest (could things get much worse?).
Why and how did I manage to choose this essay title? It must have been in a moment of madness. Basically, it is a case of talking about place (ie. EVERYWHERE), livelihoods (of EVERYONE), networks (how EVERYONE and EVERYWHERE are connected) and scale (what you find on fish), linking this all to the philosophical thought of the last few decades and making it coherent and interesting. And by the way – all knowledge is constructed, there are no truths, nothing is certain and it’s all about language and process. My brain is full. I feel like I have been chasing my tail for 2 weeks. AAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
OK, I have finished despairing. I will get back to work now.
Speaking of the Eurovision – for those of you who missed it… This year there was a marked decrease in men in white suits and an increase in vampy goth women in black dresses. As always, there was fake tan aplenty – Norway voted for Sweden, nobody voted for UK etc etc. The interval show had heavy metal cellists and an amazing trapeze artist. Low points – Ireland (bad karaoke) and Spain (Spanish version of Take That). High points - Ukraine’s silver drag queen, Terry Wogan’s commentary and my favourite – France in pink Jean Paul Gaultier – who unfortunately didn’t do very well.
Below is a sonnet which my mum wrote about Heather (clever mum!). Have a happy birthday Heath – wish I could celebrate with you xxx
HEATHER A special day dawned 30 years ago, And into this amazing world of ours, With mountains, valleys, oceans, trees and flowers, Arrived a baby. Mother said “I know This child is much more beautiful and fair Than any other baby ever born. All other mothers must feel quite forlorn Because their new-born babies can’t compare!” Throughout the 30 years that have gone by, This babe has grown in beauty and in strength, And we know she will go to any length To do what’s right and she will always try To help a friend in need. Oh lucky me! To have a loving daughter such as she.
This morning, as I approached the library, I stepped in the most enormous bird poo I have EVER seen.
As I continue my assignment, I trust that coming into contact with the aforementioned from the bottom up brings the same fortune as top down, and hope that it is does not bring the opposite…..
Last Thursday, my friend Kindrah was in London for 12 hours on her way to Botswana from Canada.
I met Kindrah and her husband Stewart when we were teaching English in Taiwan about five years ago. My flatmate Cara accosted Kindrah on the MRT (Taipei’s underground) and they became friends. Kindrah and I started chatting at the Laundromat in ShirDa and before we knew it we would all be spending most of the next 7 months together, along with Stewart, Sean, Anthony and a wider circle of friends.
As we walked around the sites of London (she had ONLY crossed 5 times zones and ONLY had another 11 hours on a plane – so I felt a five mile walk was in order) we reminisced. As the day wore on, we realised how bizarre our stories sounded and it made me want to document some of the experiences that I never wrote about at the time…
Sean, Cara and I lived in a little apartment, which we named the hovel. It was both wonderful and slightly revolting at the same time - down a little muddy alley, at the top of some concrete stairs. Every evening old ladies would do tai chi to special tai chi music outside our minute balcony which resembled a cage. We could squeeze up to four of us on the balcony for a sundowner and a smoke. We were very good friends with the smelly cat who lived in the alley. I can’t remember what we named her - she had one eye and half a tail.
About a month into living there, the bathroom light died – it had started sparking when the shower was turned on, so we decided that candles were the way forward. Cara pointed out how candle light was very complementary and enhancing to one’s showering silhouette. We bought paint for the walls and by mistake (the shop keeper didn’t speak English), we bought glossy acrylic and ended up with shiny peach walls.
The hovel was not exactly the Ritz but we were in the coolest part of town – ShirDa – the student area.
Kindrah and Stewart also lived in ShirDa – in a MUCH posher place. The funny thing about their apartment was that it was above a dentist surgery and in order to get to the apartment, you had to walk through the surgery and wander past the dentist treating his patient. The dentist was a lovely man – you could never see his mouth as he was wearing a mask, but could tell by his eyes that he was smiling broadly as he waved at us filing past. The patient wouldn’t be smiling.
We were there over Christmas and decided to organise a Christmas party. We ended up having it at Curria – the Indian restaurant in ShirDa. We knew the owner and he did a deal for us. A certain amount per head, a wide range of curries and he threw in a bottle of tequila (his idea). So it was Christmas at Curria - rather different from my usual Christmas celebrations - Canadians, Americans, Taiwanese, South Africans and a Malawian eating curry in Taipei.
New Years Day was spent (slightly jaded) at our friend Brantley’s house for a special Southern tradition (Brantley came from Savannah, Georgia) – black eyed beans and collared greens, which represents money for the year ahead.
The stories go on. Hitchhiking through Taroko Gorge (made of marble) – we never had to put our thumbs out for more than a few minutes before being picked up by a kind driver. Celebrating Chinese New Year (the year of the Ram). Visiting the museum (can’t remember its name) with the world’s largest collection of Chinese art and artefacts rumoured to be the reason why China didn’t bomb Taipei. The pride and glory of the museum was – a jade cabbage? Asparagus? spring onion? Can’t quite remember but it was tiny and (in my opinion) not nearly as impressive as most of the other stuff. Art…..
We had an amazing stationary shop round the corner and it became my obsession. I had the most gorgeous kids in my class, and they would roll out their sleeping bags after lunch for a nap. It was unbelievable how fast they learned English. I went to see Sean’s four year olds doing a production of “The Snowman” for their Christmas play.
There was a Seven Eleven almost on every corner – and I lived off their tea eggs. The night markets were unreal. We played badminton on top of a hill that emerged out of Taipei. The rubbish collection truck played a special tune to let you know that it was going past. I once tried a step class at my gym – I never realised how difficult it would be to follow it in Mandarin!
I remember being on the back of my friend Rocky’s scooter, flying through Taipei to the immigration department – I had managed to overstay my visa and had to do a visa run to Hong Kong, which turned into a bit of a group trip. When we got back Cara had managed to get proper wall paint and had painted our hovel and put pictures up. It looked beautiful.
Kindrah and I couldn’t help but feel that we were so much more sensible now - our lives getting less and less random and chaotic. Becoming more planned and organised. More to think about. Not so much rushing into situations without much consideration. It was wonderful to get all the memories back, but a little sad to think a situation like that would probably not happen in the near future. But that’s OK. I guess we always have a mid life crisis to look forward to.
PS. With the recent bout of long-winded waffling posts, you may be suspicious. Yes I have a big assignment due in next week. But I feel that this last post is very relevant to my essay about place, livelihood, networks, scale, globalisation, glocalisation and one-eyed cats ;)
“After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music” Aldous Huxley (1894 – 1963)
One of my favourite things about living in London is the live music. If you wanted to (and were financially able..), you could watch a different band playing every night for the rest of your life.
In the last three months I’ve been to see three bands courtesy of three dear friends, that were brilliant (four, if you count the sixteen year olds playing at the bowling/diner/karaoke place for Tova’s farewell).
Last week I went with David to see Lucky Dube at the Elephant and Castle Coronet. Awesome. If you have never heard of him, he is a South African Reggae artist. He is one of the South Africa’s most toured artists and “the only South African artist to have a record signed to Motown Records”. For more fun facts, check out his website here. The atmosphere was wonderful – the feeling one can only get at a reggae concert. I had had a particularly weird weekend, and meeting my old friend David, and relaxing to the tunes made life feel good again. Lucky had a large band playing with him who were great, in particular the three ladies singing. I had seen one of them singing in a jazz bar in Cape Town before. Vibrant in bright colours, beads, and voices like angels. The lyrics are incredibly powerful too.
Shepherds Bush Empire, about a month ago, my friend Anna had got tickets to see Ozomatli, for her birthday and she invited me along. I had never heard of them before. Both of us were feeling quite tired and almost didn’t go. I’m so glad we did. Within minutes we were loving it. I don’t know how you would fit this music into a genre – there’s about 9 of them; one minute it is rap, then reggae, then Latin American influence, then Middle Eastern all interspersed with messages of social justice. They were having SO much fun – just loving the music, the audience and atmosphere. The Empire is now one of my favourite venues – perfect size, great ambience. We made friends with the people next to us and I saw the biggest hair I have EVER seen. If you haven’t ever heard of Ozomatli – please check them out – they’re awesome and their website is right here.
Two months ago - Wembley Arena - The Killers. When my friend Mark told me that he had managed to get tickets, I almost feinted. So I got the best birthday present in the world. They have been on my top five list since Hot Fuss came out three (?) years ago. I remember listening to them all the way from Scotland to London driving with my sister (remember Heath?). I am going to put a video in now, the quality is not very good but every time I watch it I get shivers down my spine (one day I will have a good quality video on my blog). It was phenomenal.
So…. Why is it that music touches us so deeply? How can it be so powerful?
Now please understand, this is a rhetorical question; I do not want an answer. Undoubtedly, there have been studies that have reduced the power of music to some psychological theory. Deconstructed the phenomenon; attributing it to some evolutionary explanation. And I don’t want to know.
I rather want to marvel at the power of music.
I rarely feel an emotion that can rival listening to a favourite song. Music makes me run faster and further. It can make me cry. It makes me feel like I can conquer the world. It brings back the most vivid memories – Nirvana at high school, The Cure at boarding school, Henry Eight at Uni, Ben Harper driving across America etc etc etc.
Some days I can ABSOLUTELY NOT listen to any music whatsoever. Some days only Mozart will do. Others, it’s Tracey Chapman. I can’t count the number of times I’ve had to stop on the stairs going up to my flat to air drum Green Day after a night out. I will never get bored of jumping up and down at 3am, with my old flatmates, to the dance version of Mr Brightside.
And I love seeing the effect on other people. The dance group at the mall in Portsmouth all ages, shapes and sizes, enjoying the sun and jiving to New Order’s Blue Monday (this does bring in the sub-category “dance” which I can’t really go into now). My friend Groova at his decks mixing. My friend Matthieu mixing on his mac.
About 8am one Sunday morning in Lilongwe a few years ago. I had got home at 5am and had had a few carlsbergs the night before. Suddenly, with sound to rival the Royal Albert Hall, I was awakened. My mum was up and happy to be alive, ready to enjoy her Sunday morning with music. It was something to rival Rachmaninov - this is your cue to finally comment on my blog mum, and correct me. While it didn’t make me smile at the time, I love looking back on it and laughing.
Ok, I will stop rambling. That’s enough for a Sunday morning in London.
If music be the food of love, play on. Actually, even if music isn’t the food of love, please play on anyway.
The next day we took a boat on the fjord to get to Bygdoy (pronounced Bigday) to visit some museums.
