I've written a couple of times over the years about Ronnie Ronalde (here and here). He was a most unusual artist, a singer and performer, but most of all, a siffleur, which is just a fancy word for a person who whistles.
Well, you'd think that whistling was hardly anything to write home about, but so popular was Ronnie that on one occasion he filled Radio City Hall in New York every night for ten weeks (it holds 6,000 people). He toured extensively, and even gave two performances at the Aotea Centre in 1990 (when he was in his late sixties) and filled the place both times. At one time he was as popular as Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby.
Ronnie died just last month at the age of 91 - I only heard about it this morning. He was from Islington in London, originally, but by the time he'd finished his life he'd lived in Guernsey, the Isle of Man, New Zealand, and the Gold Coast.
Whistling isn't as popular as it used to be - I don't hear many kids whistling these days. But Ronnie made it such a hit that his records would be broadcast week in and week out when I was a kid. The fact that he remained popular for so long is testament to the enjoyment he brought to people.
Showing posts with label auckland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label auckland. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 04, 2015
Friday, July 18, 2014
No sales tax
As an Auckland resident (which I'm not) I'm told that if I make any purchases from premiertablelinens.com I won't have to pay sales tax. Although that apparently excludes any shipments to Florida that I may make. I'm not sure if Florida has recently transplanted itself to Auckland, New Zealand, but I guess it's kind of possible. They have similar climates at certain times of the year, and lately Auckland has been getting more and more tropical weather of the typhoon/tornado kind. Aucklanders, who continually tell those who live in the rest of the country how badly off they are, have been losing their roofs, windows, trampolines and more in a series of hectic winds. We've never lost our trampoline, though it did shift place a little once. Nor have we ever had the roof blown away. Thankfully. However, glass from the glasshouse is prone to fly off and smash in a high wind, and that has happened to us. We can't be protected from all things down here in the South.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
PIffle
When someone tells me I can own some of the most expensive real estate in Miami (or anyone else) I tend to look at them and say, If you say so. Plainly they haven't realised that my pension hasn't increased that much - although it is getting a little rise at the beginning of next month, of a bout $4 a fortnight. That means I can afford to go out and buy one more coffee every two weeks.
Anyway, One Sothebys in Sunny Isles Beach is the one claiming I'm only a few dollars away from residing in a super expensive location. Why go so far, I ask myself? If I want an expensive location, I can go to Auckland, where a house that my grandmother would have thought rough and ready is going for more than half a million dollars.
Much of this prime real estate in Miami doesn't come with your own backyard and swimming pool. Nope, it consists of an apartment in a high rise: you may be up on the 31st floor. Yes the view is lovely but you can't open the windows in case you fall out.
New Zealanders haven't yet got to the point of thinking that an apartment up on the somethingth floor is a good idea; for them it's the old eighth of an acre (or its current metric equivalent), a place where you can plant a few veges, or mow the lawns, or pull the car apart, or dig in some lovely bushes that will one day knock over the fence between you and your neighbour.
Piffle to living in a high rise, I say!
Anyway, One Sothebys in Sunny Isles Beach is the one claiming I'm only a few dollars away from residing in a super expensive location. Why go so far, I ask myself? If I want an expensive location, I can go to Auckland, where a house that my grandmother would have thought rough and ready is going for more than half a million dollars.
Much of this prime real estate in Miami doesn't come with your own backyard and swimming pool. Nope, it consists of an apartment in a high rise: you may be up on the 31st floor. Yes the view is lovely but you can't open the windows in case you fall out.
New Zealanders haven't yet got to the point of thinking that an apartment up on the somethingth floor is a good idea; for them it's the old eighth of an acre (or its current metric equivalent), a place where you can plant a few veges, or mow the lawns, or pull the car apart, or dig in some lovely bushes that will one day knock over the fence between you and your neighbour.
Piffle to living in a high rise, I say!
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Toon
While we were in Auckland over the last couple of weeks, we frequently noted trees with strongly pink leaves scattered around the city. They were quite striking, and stood out wherever we saw them.
By chance I met a lady at the zoo - where there were several of these trees - and, since apparently she knew something about trees, I asked her if she knew what the name of these trees were. She said she thought they were called a Chinese Toom Tree. I may have misheard her, because in fact they're called Chinese Toon Trees. She made the interesting comment that while the trees are striking when they're pink, they're almost unnoticeable once the pinkness goes, and they revert to a much more common green.
Seemingly these trees are well-known in many parts of the world, and quite apart from their colour, their wood is useful for furniture, and their leaves for medicinal purposes.
Curiously, neither of the Wikipedia articles I looked at mentioned their wonderful colouring. Yet that seems to me to be their greatest feature. Obviously those who wrote the articles thought in terms of practical uses. I tend to think, as I so often do, in the purely un-useful: therefore it's the appeal to the eye that I found most interesting.
I don't know whether they grow here in Dunedin, but if they do, I'd love to have one!
By chance I met a lady at the zoo - where there were several of these trees - and, since apparently she knew something about trees, I asked her if she knew what the name of these trees were. She said she thought they were called a Chinese Toom Tree. I may have misheard her, because in fact they're called Chinese Toon Trees. She made the interesting comment that while the trees are striking when they're pink, they're almost unnoticeable once the pinkness goes, and they revert to a much more common green.Seemingly these trees are well-known in many parts of the world, and quite apart from their colour, their wood is useful for furniture, and their leaves for medicinal purposes.
Curiously, neither of the Wikipedia articles I looked at mentioned their wonderful colouring. Yet that seems to me to be their greatest feature. Obviously those who wrote the articles thought in terms of practical uses. I tend to think, as I so often do, in the purely un-useful: therefore it's the appeal to the eye that I found most interesting.
I don't know whether they grow here in Dunedin, but if they do, I'd love to have one!
Tuesday, September 03, 2013
Burbling on about snow
Well, the weather people predicted there'd be snow yesterday. There wasn't. A bit of foul weather, but hardly worse than some other winter days we've had. Snow is so often predicted for this part of the world that you get blasé about it. I was glad there wasn't any snow, as I was meeting my son for lunch yesterday as well as playing for four young people who did singing exams.
When we were in Auckland last week, we had to reassure our host, who's only been to the South Island briefly, that it doesn't snow here every other day, as the forecasters tend to indicate. I'm not sure if he believed me.
Back in June this year, the weather people got it right, though here in Dunedin, as is so often the case, it was mostly the upper hills that got the heavy snow. At the time, the ODT reported that a 'special weather advisory had been slapped on the whole country'. I like the idea of a weather advisory being slapped on the whole country, though I have no actual idea of what it means.
We were also told that 'emergency refuge centres are being set up, motorists warned off the roads, and shoppers urged to stock up, but to refrain from panic buying.' Of course, people didn't refrain, and supermarkets actually ran out of some items. But it was a bit of a mixed message: stock up, but don't panic buy. Of course, the supermarkets only have to announce they're going to be closed for one day (like at Christmas, or Easter) and people go crazy. How did they survive before supermarkets opened on Sundays? Did they all starve because they couldn't shop?
There was a time when it people just got on with life when it snowed; kids went to school, people went to work. These days it's become a major crisis, in spite of the fact that Dunedin is mostly negotiable in the snow - though you might have to walk rather than drive. I can remember, as a child, walking to school in the snow, a trip of about three kilometres. I was quite small, and was frozen by the time I got there, and somewhat later than most of the other boys. I was allowed to warm up in front of a small radiant heater - it might have had two bars rather than one - for a few minutes before getting on with the school work. We might have had another similar heater down the back of the room. But in general we just froze.
Obviously they made kids a lot tougher in those days!
When we were in Auckland last week, we had to reassure our host, who's only been to the South Island briefly, that it doesn't snow here every other day, as the forecasters tend to indicate. I'm not sure if he believed me.
Back in June this year, the weather people got it right, though here in Dunedin, as is so often the case, it was mostly the upper hills that got the heavy snow. At the time, the ODT reported that a 'special weather advisory had been slapped on the whole country'. I like the idea of a weather advisory being slapped on the whole country, though I have no actual idea of what it means.
We were also told that 'emergency refuge centres are being set up, motorists warned off the roads, and shoppers urged to stock up, but to refrain from panic buying.' Of course, people didn't refrain, and supermarkets actually ran out of some items. But it was a bit of a mixed message: stock up, but don't panic buy. Of course, the supermarkets only have to announce they're going to be closed for one day (like at Christmas, or Easter) and people go crazy. How did they survive before supermarkets opened on Sundays? Did they all starve because they couldn't shop?
There was a time when it people just got on with life when it snowed; kids went to school, people went to work. These days it's become a major crisis, in spite of the fact that Dunedin is mostly negotiable in the snow - though you might have to walk rather than drive. I can remember, as a child, walking to school in the snow, a trip of about three kilometres. I was quite small, and was frozen by the time I got there, and somewhat later than most of the other boys. I was allowed to warm up in front of a small radiant heater - it might have had two bars rather than one - for a few minutes before getting on with the school work. We might have had another similar heater down the back of the room. But in general we just froze.
Obviously they made kids a lot tougher in those days!
Sunday, September 01, 2013
A surfeit of news
I just came across a line in a quote I'd kept which reads: institutions of fear that promise safety by the destruction of others.
This is a wonderful line that epitomizes what's happening in much of the Western world at the moment: we are being led increasingly to believe that we're in great danger from some (unknown) source and therefore the 'institutions of fear' need to look out for us, and in so doing, will destroy others. Hasn't this been exactly what's happened since 9/11? But it goes back much further than that: the McCarthy era was one particular and horrendous example of it; Hitler persuaded an entire country - or so it seemed - that one racial group needed to be destroyed in order that Germany would be safe. And there are innumerable examples of it throughout history. The worst facet of the contemporary version is that the media picks up on this fear and safety issue very quickly, and very quickly makes an enormous big deal out of the words of men (and some women) who ought to have been ignored for their foolishness.
Some people would claim that it's our own fault that the media is the way it is. The interesting thing is, however, that if you go without a newspaper, or without television or radio, even for a few days, you quickly realise how unimportant a great deal of the so-called news is. The news world is a fantasy, for the most part. For thousands of years human beings have got on without the wealth of news that we're subject to, and survived. Only really important things got through (or sometimes didn't), and these things were important to the particular people involved rather than their neighbours in the next city or country. News today involves us even when we have no need to be involved, and makes us feel guilty when we have no need to be guilty. So in many ways, the media is an institution of fear, like those in the first paragraph.
There are no safety equipment suppliers to overcome the problems of this kind of perpetual interruption of news from the outside as we receive it in this century. Some people, a very few, will not only ignore the news but will hide themselves away from society, as though this somehow helped. It helps them, perhaps; it doesn't get rid of the main issue, which is a superabundance of so-called news. How in the world can it be that we need 24 hour news channels? Who can absorb so much news? Who would want to?
Certainly there are advantages in having access to news as you need it, but it's the 'as you need it' factor that's important. And we don't actually need it as much as we think. We've just survived a week in Auckland with very little news: I gave the newspaper a cursory glance some days and spent more time on the CodeCracker or the Cryptic Crossword, or the Sudoku than I did on the news. We didn't watch the TV news the entire time, nor did we hear the news on the radio. Presumably it went on its blathering way, day in and out, and yet we survived with no problem whatsoever.
I don't want to go to the extreme of never hearing any news at all. I think that's foolish. But neither do I feel we need anything like the amount of news we get, and we certainly don't need it played up to the hilt as it's so often done. News needs to be kept in its place, or it becomes a fearsome monster that eats your life away.
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Doing things in Auckland
For the past week I've been in Auckland, and haven't heard a radio, haven't watched television, and have only touched a computer to print out the boarding passes for our flight back to Dunedin. Of course, we had an iPad with us, and my new Samsung Galaxy phone, so we had plenty of communication with the outside world, but in the house we were staying at they barely watch television any more (and who can blame them?) and the radio isn't turned on as a matter of course.
We did Sudukos and read books, and went out and so on, so we were hardly starved for entertainment. I finished one of Agatha Christie's least successful books, A Pocket Full of Rye, a book so contrived to fit to the silly nursery rhyme that characterization is virtually nil, and plot isn't much better. The murderer is a disappointment, because we actually want someone who provides a much more interesting solution to the plot. There were times when Christie could be quite witty, and could allow her characters to speak for themselves. Here, however, she's forever providing stereotypes, so that the characters are barely distinguishable from each other as people. She also introduces a new detective, Neele, but he's such a dullard (though she keeps telling us he's not) that she has to bring Miss Marple in about three-quarters of the way through to provide some light relief.
I also finished reading Justin Lee's Torn: Rescuing the Gospel from the Gays-vs.-Christians Debate. This is one of the most generous-hearted books on this usually contentious subject I've come across, that I would recommend it to anyone who wants to find a way through the current mire. Not that Lee has all the answers, or attempts to give them, but he does want people from both sides to acknowledge each other and be able to communicate. I'll probably write more about it at another time.
We went to see Speaking in Tongues, by Australian playwright, Andrew Bovell. This NZ production, at the Herald Theatre, was brilliantly put across by the four actors (all familiar faces from TV) and their director. The cast played nine roles in all, each person in the story intersecting at some point with at least one other character. Structurally I'm not sure that it quite works, but the scenes within the piece are often intense and there's a great deal of reflection on relationships throughout. It's certainly a very actor-driven piece; they're required to perform considerable feats not only of memory but of timing: the show opens with two actors often speaking in unison, but not necessarily the same two actors; they often cut into each other's lines and finish them off and so on. Other scenes are more conventional in approach but there's a terrific section in the second half when a recording of one of the actresses is intermingled with the live dialogue. The sound person is very involved in this play, and has to be on his/her toes constantly.
When I say structurally I'm not sure that it works I mean that individual scenes work to a climax - for the most part - but the two acts don't particularly. In fact, the night we went, so unsure was the audience that the first act had ended that no one clapped. When it became evident that it had indeed ended I was so amazed at the silence, that I started to clap and was soon joined by some others. The second act ends in a similarly abrupt way with a number of loose ends left hanging. While I appreciate that Bovell is probably not intending to write a 'well-made' play in the older sense, I couldn't quite see why he worked against the elements he presented to such a degree that he left his audience a bit stranded. Anyway, what do I know? The play has been a huge success wherever it's been presented. I think this is mainly because it provides the actors with such rich characters to work on. Apparently the film version, (Lantana) is more cohesive (our hosts actually watched it the next night on DVD), so maybe that's a hint that Bovell felt he needed to bring some more order to things in the screen version.
We also attended the Joan Baez concert, on Thursday, at the wonderfully over-the-top Civic Theatre. It's like Dunedin's St James Theatre used to be before it was hacked around and turned into several smaller cinemas. Joan was preceded by Kate Fagin, an Australian folk singer (or 'independent roots' singer, as she's dubbed on her website), who suddenly appeared on stage, sang a song, introduced herself, sang another song (again accompanying herself on the guitar) and then sang two more songs with piano accompaniment. She was good, but the crowd really wanted to see Baez. Most curiously, after Fagin, there was a fifteen to twenty-minute interval, in spite of the fact that Fagin had taken only about ten to fifteen minutes herself. The stage was reset for Baez and her group, and you had to wonder why what Fagin had done was so remarkably different to what was then set up; surely it could all have been left as it was. Anyway, after a bit of an irritating interval, with a kind of amateurish feel to all the jostling about that went on onstage, Joan finally appeared - unannounced, something that the NZ Herald critic thought was poorly handled - and just began to sing. Her charisma made you forget the weak start to the programme (in different circumstances, I'm sure that Fagin is a very good performer), and she was soon joined by her son, Gabriel Harris, on percussion, and the multi-instrumentalist, Dirk Powell, who during the evening played banjo, guitar, bass guitar, piano, fiddle, accordion, and probably something else. Baez's assistant, Grace Stomber, a short young lady, joined Joan in one or two of the songs, but mostly contented herself with swapping Baez's guitars between every song during the entire night. Presumably she was off tuning them and adding capos or maybe even giving them a bit of polish.
Anyway, Baez was wonderful when singing in her middle to low register; struggling a bit in her upper register. She is 72, so she has an excuse for no longer being able to sing as she once did, but for the most part her vocals floated with ease across the accompaniments, often sliding between the beats but never losing their rhythm. My wife was the one who'd been really keen to see her, since she's been a fan of Baez since the early sixties. But I was won over to her as well; I've heard her songs sung around the house as long as my wife and I have been married, but it was altogether different hearing them sung by a little old lady picking away at a guitar in front of a couple of thousand mostly grey or white-haired people.
For a full review of the evening read Liz Gunn on the 13th Floor.
We did Sudukos and read books, and went out and so on, so we were hardly starved for entertainment. I finished one of Agatha Christie's least successful books, A Pocket Full of Rye, a book so contrived to fit to the silly nursery rhyme that characterization is virtually nil, and plot isn't much better. The murderer is a disappointment, because we actually want someone who provides a much more interesting solution to the plot. There were times when Christie could be quite witty, and could allow her characters to speak for themselves. Here, however, she's forever providing stereotypes, so that the characters are barely distinguishable from each other as people. She also introduces a new detective, Neele, but he's such a dullard (though she keeps telling us he's not) that she has to bring Miss Marple in about three-quarters of the way through to provide some light relief.
I also finished reading Justin Lee's Torn: Rescuing the Gospel from the Gays-vs.-Christians Debate. This is one of the most generous-hearted books on this usually contentious subject I've come across, that I would recommend it to anyone who wants to find a way through the current mire. Not that Lee has all the answers, or attempts to give them, but he does want people from both sides to acknowledge each other and be able to communicate. I'll probably write more about it at another time.
We went to see Speaking in Tongues, by Australian playwright, Andrew Bovell. This NZ production, at the Herald Theatre, was brilliantly put across by the four actors (all familiar faces from TV) and their director. The cast played nine roles in all, each person in the story intersecting at some point with at least one other character. Structurally I'm not sure that it quite works, but the scenes within the piece are often intense and there's a great deal of reflection on relationships throughout. It's certainly a very actor-driven piece; they're required to perform considerable feats not only of memory but of timing: the show opens with two actors often speaking in unison, but not necessarily the same two actors; they often cut into each other's lines and finish them off and so on. Other scenes are more conventional in approach but there's a terrific section in the second half when a recording of one of the actresses is intermingled with the live dialogue. The sound person is very involved in this play, and has to be on his/her toes constantly.
When I say structurally I'm not sure that it works I mean that individual scenes work to a climax - for the most part - but the two acts don't particularly. In fact, the night we went, so unsure was the audience that the first act had ended that no one clapped. When it became evident that it had indeed ended I was so amazed at the silence, that I started to clap and was soon joined by some others. The second act ends in a similarly abrupt way with a number of loose ends left hanging. While I appreciate that Bovell is probably not intending to write a 'well-made' play in the older sense, I couldn't quite see why he worked against the elements he presented to such a degree that he left his audience a bit stranded. Anyway, what do I know? The play has been a huge success wherever it's been presented. I think this is mainly because it provides the actors with such rich characters to work on. Apparently the film version, (Lantana) is more cohesive (our hosts actually watched it the next night on DVD), so maybe that's a hint that Bovell felt he needed to bring some more order to things in the screen version.
We also attended the Joan Baez concert, on Thursday, at the wonderfully over-the-top Civic Theatre. It's like Dunedin's St James Theatre used to be before it was hacked around and turned into several smaller cinemas. Joan was preceded by Kate Fagin, an Australian folk singer (or 'independent roots' singer, as she's dubbed on her website), who suddenly appeared on stage, sang a song, introduced herself, sang another song (again accompanying herself on the guitar) and then sang two more songs with piano accompaniment. She was good, but the crowd really wanted to see Baez. Most curiously, after Fagin, there was a fifteen to twenty-minute interval, in spite of the fact that Fagin had taken only about ten to fifteen minutes herself. The stage was reset for Baez and her group, and you had to wonder why what Fagin had done was so remarkably different to what was then set up; surely it could all have been left as it was. Anyway, after a bit of an irritating interval, with a kind of amateurish feel to all the jostling about that went on onstage, Joan finally appeared - unannounced, something that the NZ Herald critic thought was poorly handled - and just began to sing. Her charisma made you forget the weak start to the programme (in different circumstances, I'm sure that Fagin is a very good performer), and she was soon joined by her son, Gabriel Harris, on percussion, and the multi-instrumentalist, Dirk Powell, who during the evening played banjo, guitar, bass guitar, piano, fiddle, accordion, and probably something else. Baez's assistant, Grace Stomber, a short young lady, joined Joan in one or two of the songs, but mostly contented herself with swapping Baez's guitars between every song during the entire night. Presumably she was off tuning them and adding capos or maybe even giving them a bit of polish. Anyway, Baez was wonderful when singing in her middle to low register; struggling a bit in her upper register. She is 72, so she has an excuse for no longer being able to sing as she once did, but for the most part her vocals floated with ease across the accompaniments, often sliding between the beats but never losing their rhythm. My wife was the one who'd been really keen to see her, since she's been a fan of Baez since the early sixties. But I was won over to her as well; I've heard her songs sung around the house as long as my wife and I have been married, but it was altogether different hearing them sung by a little old lady picking away at a guitar in front of a couple of thousand mostly grey or white-haired people.
For a full review of the evening read Liz Gunn on the 13th Floor.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Sunshine Good Rain Bad
People who present on the weather programmes on TV have a curious bias towards sunshine, and a tendency to denigrate rain. Yet earlier in the year we were supposedly in drought mode in New Zealand, not just in the 'Far North' (as the weather people call it) but right throughout the country. The Far North certainly was in a state of drought, though not of Biblical proportions, which is what you'd have thought was the case from TV.
Drought is a result of too much sunshine and too little rain, yet night after night we hear on the weather section of the news that tomorrow will be sunny for these areas or those, but unfortunately there will be rain in this or that place. Unfortunately? We need rain. The earth needs rain. We need rain to grow plants, to water animals, to keep our reservoirs full. Perpetual sunshine doesn't do this - ask any African who's lived through several years of drought.
The irony is, perhaps, that the TV channels that pronounce on the unfortunateness of rain are the ones that are based in Auckland...a city that gets more rain than many of its southern counterparts. NIWA tells us that the mean rainfall for Auckland over a 19-year period was 1240 mm. The equivalent for Christchurch was only just over half, at 648, and for Dunedin, supposedly in the 'Deep South', the mean rainfall was 812, around three-quarters of Auckland's precipitation. Dunedin, when it gets rain, lets it drizzle on for a few days, spreading it around in a nice even fashion. Auckland buckets it all down in a heap and drowns everything. Yet the number of wet days Dunedin got (still using the mean figures) was 124; the number Auckland got was 137. Christchurch got only 85! That's not to say that the South Island is altogether sparse in its rainfall: Milford Sound takes the prize by having 6749 mm and Westport 2274.
Whatever the stats, it's still worth rethinking how the weather section is presented: a constant insistence on Sunshine Good Rain Bad eventually makes viewers think this really is the case. It would be good to see a bit more honesty on the weather program. But I'm not holding my breath.
Drought is a result of too much sunshine and too little rain, yet night after night we hear on the weather section of the news that tomorrow will be sunny for these areas or those, but unfortunately there will be rain in this or that place. Unfortunately? We need rain. The earth needs rain. We need rain to grow plants, to water animals, to keep our reservoirs full. Perpetual sunshine doesn't do this - ask any African who's lived through several years of drought.
The irony is, perhaps, that the TV channels that pronounce on the unfortunateness of rain are the ones that are based in Auckland...a city that gets more rain than many of its southern counterparts. NIWA tells us that the mean rainfall for Auckland over a 19-year period was 1240 mm. The equivalent for Christchurch was only just over half, at 648, and for Dunedin, supposedly in the 'Deep South', the mean rainfall was 812, around three-quarters of Auckland's precipitation. Dunedin, when it gets rain, lets it drizzle on for a few days, spreading it around in a nice even fashion. Auckland buckets it all down in a heap and drowns everything. Yet the number of wet days Dunedin got (still using the mean figures) was 124; the number Auckland got was 137. Christchurch got only 85! That's not to say that the South Island is altogether sparse in its rainfall: Milford Sound takes the prize by having 6749 mm and Westport 2274.
Whatever the stats, it's still worth rethinking how the weather section is presented: a constant insistence on Sunshine Good Rain Bad eventually makes viewers think this really is the case. It would be good to see a bit more honesty on the weather program. But I'm not holding my breath.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Diet, Pullman, air travel
Who needs to know about the best diet pills ever? There are other ways to lose weight.
Last night I flew into Dunedin from Auckland. We were due to land at 9 pm, and were pretty much on time, in spite of a headwind. In the end we actually landed about 9.30 after half an hour of circling the city. That delay might have been okay, except that every time we approached the airport the squalling winds buffeted the plane around in a horrific way, and anxiety was the major emotion on board. The unfortunate thirty-something man in the seat opposite mine, across the aisle, brought up his dinner, then his lunch, and perhaps even his breakfast. That's not a pleasant way to lose weight, but it's effective. Anxiety is probably pretty good too. I'm sure I was several pounds lighter by the time I put my feet on the ground.
On a totally different tack, I came across this delightful piece by Betty Smartt Carter in the Books and Culture magazine today. It relates partly to Philip Pullman's most recent book, The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ, but it goes beyond that, back into Pullman's famous (children's) trilogy, His Dark Materials.
It begins:
The following is a story that attempts to show how a recent novel could have happened. It is not the story. It is not even a plausible story. Sometimes it reads like fairy tale and at other times like a product of Google Translate. The effect is intentional.
Once there were two brothers from Norwich. The younger brother, Philip, became a storyteller. He had a gift for describing the natural world without sentimentalizing it. The older brother, Pullman, became a teacher and a champion of human liberty. He liked stories, too, but thought they ought to serve a Greater Purpose.
Its tongue-in-cheek style takes the edge of its satire, but only a little.
Last night I flew into Dunedin from Auckland. We were due to land at 9 pm, and were pretty much on time, in spite of a headwind. In the end we actually landed about 9.30 after half an hour of circling the city. That delay might have been okay, except that every time we approached the airport the squalling winds buffeted the plane around in a horrific way, and anxiety was the major emotion on board. The unfortunate thirty-something man in the seat opposite mine, across the aisle, brought up his dinner, then his lunch, and perhaps even his breakfast. That's not a pleasant way to lose weight, but it's effective. Anxiety is probably pretty good too. I'm sure I was several pounds lighter by the time I put my feet on the ground.
On a totally different tack, I came across this delightful piece by Betty Smartt Carter in the Books and Culture magazine today. It relates partly to Philip Pullman's most recent book, The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ, but it goes beyond that, back into Pullman's famous (children's) trilogy, His Dark Materials.
It begins:
The following is a story that attempts to show how a recent novel could have happened. It is not the story. It is not even a plausible story. Sometimes it reads like fairy tale and at other times like a product of Google Translate. The effect is intentional.
Once there were two brothers from Norwich. The younger brother, Philip, became a storyteller. He had a gift for describing the natural world without sentimentalizing it. The older brother, Pullman, became a teacher and a champion of human liberty. He liked stories, too, but thought they ought to serve a Greater Purpose.
Its tongue-in-cheek style takes the edge of its satire, but only a little.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
How to spend a holiday
I'm on holiday for a week - which is going to be interrupted by a course in Auckland (at the other end of the country for those who don't know our geography) which will take four hours, but will cost me an entire day tomorrow. I'm going to take next Monday off in lieu.
The course was an afterthought: I'd been due to go on holiday for a few weeks, but the course notice arrived in my email last week - about Thursday, I think - and foolishly, instead of ignoring it, I showed it to my colleague (my de facto boss) and within a zippity doo of an hour I was booked to go to Auckland and had someone available to pick me up at the airport, transport me to the course site, and bring me back again. (A free early evening meal is now being thrown in as well, so I can't complain.)
As to the holiday, I've now had two days of it, and yesterday wasn't too bad weather-wise, although it got very cold in the afternoon. My wife and I got up early and loaded up the van with accumulated rubbish (accumulated and smelly) and headed out to the tip. The dog came too and was not impressed at being kept in the vehicle while I unloaded it. Frantic was the attitude he assumed.
Then we went and picked up a trailerload of soil/compost from 'Designer Trees' and rejoiced in the fact that the trailer was thrown in for free...for an hour. Back home, and over the next hour we slaved away at emptying the trailer's contents into a couple of our raised gardens. That's hard work when you haven't done it for a while.
While it was still fine we went down to the nearly new Bunning's Warehouse (my first trip - it looks almost identical to Mitre 10 to my jaded mind) and bought some items for the garden. But by the time we got home the weather was turning off rapidly, and none of the plants have made it into the garden yet.
Today's plan was to replace some of the glass in the glasshouse. We measured up, and my wife had some thoughts about perhaps it would be more economical to replace some of the glass with a firm plastic, so that required another trip to Bunning's where we found the sort of thing we needed. We also got some glass for the missing panes out of the roof - the glasshouse had suffered quite a bit of damage in the terrific wind that we had a few days after Christchurch had its awful earthquake.
But today the weather wasn't going to give us any clemency whatsoever, and most of the glass replacement was done in the freezing cold, or with snowflakes drifting down onto us. We got the roof sorted but nothing else at this stage. I spent the other part of the day inside, getting warm again, and avoiding wasting my time looking at sites like those called acne treatments reviewed or how to gain a six-pack in three minutes a day, and worked hard at getting notes typed up for the Varsity course I'm doing. I had to tell myself severely that I wasn't allowed to do any music writing today; the course has been suffering a bit of late because of that.
So I guess you could call it successful, in spite of the weather. I had been hoping for lovely sunny days over this week, but it doesn't look as though my hope is going to be met. Pooh.
The course was an afterthought: I'd been due to go on holiday for a few weeks, but the course notice arrived in my email last week - about Thursday, I think - and foolishly, instead of ignoring it, I showed it to my colleague (my de facto boss) and within a zippity doo of an hour I was booked to go to Auckland and had someone available to pick me up at the airport, transport me to the course site, and bring me back again. (A free early evening meal is now being thrown in as well, so I can't complain.)
As to the holiday, I've now had two days of it, and yesterday wasn't too bad weather-wise, although it got very cold in the afternoon. My wife and I got up early and loaded up the van with accumulated rubbish (accumulated and smelly) and headed out to the tip. The dog came too and was not impressed at being kept in the vehicle while I unloaded it. Frantic was the attitude he assumed.
Then we went and picked up a trailerload of soil/compost from 'Designer Trees' and rejoiced in the fact that the trailer was thrown in for free...for an hour. Back home, and over the next hour we slaved away at emptying the trailer's contents into a couple of our raised gardens. That's hard work when you haven't done it for a while.
While it was still fine we went down to the nearly new Bunning's Warehouse (my first trip - it looks almost identical to Mitre 10 to my jaded mind) and bought some items for the garden. But by the time we got home the weather was turning off rapidly, and none of the plants have made it into the garden yet.
Today's plan was to replace some of the glass in the glasshouse. We measured up, and my wife had some thoughts about perhaps it would be more economical to replace some of the glass with a firm plastic, so that required another trip to Bunning's where we found the sort of thing we needed. We also got some glass for the missing panes out of the roof - the glasshouse had suffered quite a bit of damage in the terrific wind that we had a few days after Christchurch had its awful earthquake.
But today the weather wasn't going to give us any clemency whatsoever, and most of the glass replacement was done in the freezing cold, or with snowflakes drifting down onto us. We got the roof sorted but nothing else at this stage. I spent the other part of the day inside, getting warm again, and avoiding wasting my time looking at sites like those called acne treatments reviewed or how to gain a six-pack in three minutes a day, and worked hard at getting notes typed up for the Varsity course I'm doing. I had to tell myself severely that I wasn't allowed to do any music writing today; the course has been suffering a bit of late because of that.
So I guess you could call it successful, in spite of the weather. I had been hoping for lovely sunny days over this week, but it doesn't look as though my hope is going to be met. Pooh.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Over to degrees
My wife and I are just switching to the 2Degrees network, but both had about $4 on our Vodafone cards. So we thought we'd use them up. I rang my daughter in Auckland and we chatted and chatted and still no sign of the card coming to an end. Finally she had to ring off and put the kids to bed. And even then there was still $2 left. So my wife rang a good friend of hers in Christchurch, and within a minute had run out of money! How does that work?
Now I have to register with 2Degrees - we've already got a couple of their sim cards - and no doubt that'll be fiddly. Maybe not!
Meantime I'm coping with the new Google version of Blogger, where they've made some changes - some good, like a button for links which, most oddly, never existed before; and some not so good like not being able to pick up photos off your own PC. When you click on the add picture button it offers you a choice of getting something straight off an Url (or 'a URL' as they put it) or via Picasa - but online, not off your computer as I discovered after I'd installed Picasa - or from the pictures that you've already got on your blogs. Weird. Seemingly this is a bug that they're supposed to be fixing. Let's hope they hurry.
Now why I'd want to write about an Epson receipt printer I'm not entirely sure. One of the joys of blogging is that you find yourself writing about all sorts of things you know next to nothing about. Which requires research, which I sometimes do...sometimes well, and sometimes not. The latter is one of those occasions. A receipt printer is one used for Eftpos machines - as I'm sure you all know without my having to present you with any of my research - and they make that whining little noise as though it was some kind of pain to present you with a receipt.
They're ubiquitous. There now. That's enough. Plus I managed to sneak in a decently long and suitably incomprehensible word.
Now I have to register with 2Degrees - we've already got a couple of their sim cards - and no doubt that'll be fiddly. Maybe not!
Meantime I'm coping with the new Google version of Blogger, where they've made some changes - some good, like a button for links which, most oddly, never existed before; and some not so good like not being able to pick up photos off your own PC. When you click on the add picture button it offers you a choice of getting something straight off an Url (or 'a URL' as they put it) or via Picasa - but online, not off your computer as I discovered after I'd installed Picasa - or from the pictures that you've already got on your blogs. Weird. Seemingly this is a bug that they're supposed to be fixing. Let's hope they hurry.
Now why I'd want to write about an Epson receipt printer I'm not entirely sure. One of the joys of blogging is that you find yourself writing about all sorts of things you know next to nothing about. Which requires research, which I sometimes do...sometimes well, and sometimes not. The latter is one of those occasions. A receipt printer is one used for Eftpos machines - as I'm sure you all know without my having to present you with any of my research - and they make that whining little noise as though it was some kind of pain to present you with a receipt.
They're ubiquitous. There now. That's enough. Plus I managed to sneak in a decently long and suitably incomprehensible word.
Friday, June 04, 2010
Colm Toibin
The name, Colm Toibin, meant nothing to me until a few moments ago, when I came across a video of him answering a few questions in his own quirky way in a video interview shot at the Auckland Writers and Readers' Festival (should that be Writers' and Readers' Festival?). Of course, Colm Toibin will have never heard of me either - though perhaps with greater reason.
Anyway, here's the video - as always it may be better just to double-click and watch it properly on You Tube.
I love the way his face crinkles up; I love the way he continues to smile while commenting on his childhood - 'awful, miserable'; I love the way the way he answers the question on the things he's thinking about just now - none of which are Big and Important.
Anyway, here's the video - as always it may be better just to double-click and watch it properly on You Tube.
I love the way his face crinkles up; I love the way he continues to smile while commenting on his childhood - 'awful, miserable'; I love the way the way he answers the question on the things he's thinking about just now - none of which are Big and Important.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Age creepeth on
I had no idea what adipex diet pills were, so had to look them up. And I did, and found a 'review' site of them which was sort of positive about them - and sort of not. I think on the basis of this review I wouldn't be trying them, quite apart from the fact that I'm not overweight enough to worry about it.
Which isn't what I set out to write. But my wife went to England (via Auckland and Kuala Lumpur) this morning (no, not all in one morning - come on!) and I'm feeling distinctly unsettled. People go on about 'baching' (as in being a bachelor for a period of time). Can't say it's a state I'm particularly keen to go back to. When you've been married as long as I have (36 years) you're pretty closely tied up with the person you've spent so much time with; at the moment there's a great sense of absence in the house.
And it's been a bit of a week, all up. Some stressful times at work which I won't go into here, but some other stressful things on top of that.
I went to get my driver's licence renewed, for example. You might remember that I had a bit of eyelid surgery about ten days ago. The eyelid's looking good, but the eye itself took a bit of time to recover; in fact I was getting worried that it might have got damaged during the few brief minutes of the op. Don't think it did, but the antibiotic cream I was using for the eyelid certainly blurred things up tremendously, and even when I stopped using it the eye didn't seem to
seeing things as clearly as I thought it should. The left eye seems to be doing most of the work, in fact.
To get back to the driver's licence. I went into the AA office here, paid my money, had my photo taken (took them umpteen attempts) and tried to do their eyetest. Crikey, I thought I'd gone blind.
The first lot of letters were an absolute blur, and I only started seeing things more clearly when they upped the size of the letters. And then I was told that there were three columns of letters when my eyes saw only two - and a big black blank where the third column should have been. The girl behind the counter insisted there were three columns; I insisted there were two. Didn't even get as far as checking my peripheral vision.
Felt quite gloomy and began to wonder if my eyesight was going completely. However, a quick trip to the optician's (an old acquaintance outside of his speciality) and it proved that there was nothing more wrong with my eyes than there has been for decades. I've had glasses since I was about nine, as far as I recall.
I could read his charts with ease, and tracked the peripheral light thingee with no problems. Pooh to the AA eye test machine, I say. In fact I later wrote to the AA Head Office, online, and told them that I thought it was a bit of a poor show that they had a machine that doesn't work for most of their customers - it's commonplace for people to wind up either at their doctor's or their optician's surgeries because they're 'failed' the eyesight test at AA, or haven't even bothered to give it a try because they know already how inefficient it is.
No doubt they'll respond by installing up-to-date, brand new, perfectly attuned machines in every one of their offices.
The other 'stress' was that I had to go to Work and Income to apply for my superannuation, which the Government is kindly giving to me after all these years. This shouldn't have been any big deal - people turn 65 every day - but the milestone of it affected me, and I felt quite nervous. And old.
Anyway, thanks to my daughter, who's adept at making sure every i has been dotted and t crossed, the application form was perfect when presented to the woman at W&I (bar one minimal easily-sorted thing) and I had all the right bits of paper to prove who I was, several times over. Notice that my daughter checked all this through before I went. Doesn't that say something about impending age...?
The photo is by Zarko Drincic - he also drew the original picture.
Which isn't what I set out to write. But my wife went to England (via Auckland and Kuala Lumpur) this morning (no, not all in one morning - come on!) and I'm feeling distinctly unsettled. People go on about 'baching' (as in being a bachelor for a period of time). Can't say it's a state I'm particularly keen to go back to. When you've been married as long as I have (36 years) you're pretty closely tied up with the person you've spent so much time with; at the moment there's a great sense of absence in the house.
And it's been a bit of a week, all up. Some stressful times at work which I won't go into here, but some other stressful things on top of that.
I went to get my driver's licence renewed, for example. You might remember that I had a bit of eyelid surgery about ten days ago. The eyelid's looking good, but the eye itself took a bit of time to recover; in fact I was getting worried that it might have got damaged during the few brief minutes of the op. Don't think it did, but the antibiotic cream I was using for the eyelid certainly blurred things up tremendously, and even when I stopped using it the eye didn't seem to
seeing things as clearly as I thought it should. The left eye seems to be doing most of the work, in fact.To get back to the driver's licence. I went into the AA office here, paid my money, had my photo taken (took them umpteen attempts) and tried to do their eyetest. Crikey, I thought I'd gone blind.
The first lot of letters were an absolute blur, and I only started seeing things more clearly when they upped the size of the letters. And then I was told that there were three columns of letters when my eyes saw only two - and a big black blank where the third column should have been. The girl behind the counter insisted there were three columns; I insisted there were two. Didn't even get as far as checking my peripheral vision.
Felt quite gloomy and began to wonder if my eyesight was going completely. However, a quick trip to the optician's (an old acquaintance outside of his speciality) and it proved that there was nothing more wrong with my eyes than there has been for decades. I've had glasses since I was about nine, as far as I recall.
I could read his charts with ease, and tracked the peripheral light thingee with no problems. Pooh to the AA eye test machine, I say. In fact I later wrote to the AA Head Office, online, and told them that I thought it was a bit of a poor show that they had a machine that doesn't work for most of their customers - it's commonplace for people to wind up either at their doctor's or their optician's surgeries because they're 'failed' the eyesight test at AA, or haven't even bothered to give it a try because they know already how inefficient it is.
No doubt they'll respond by installing up-to-date, brand new, perfectly attuned machines in every one of their offices.
The other 'stress' was that I had to go to Work and Income to apply for my superannuation, which the Government is kindly giving to me after all these years. This shouldn't have been any big deal - people turn 65 every day - but the milestone of it affected me, and I felt quite nervous. And old.
Anyway, thanks to my daughter, who's adept at making sure every i has been dotted and t crossed, the application form was perfect when presented to the woman at W&I (bar one minimal easily-sorted thing) and I had all the right bits of paper to prove who I was, several times over. Notice that my daughter checked all this through before I went. Doesn't that say something about impending age...?
The photo is by Zarko Drincic - he also drew the original picture.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Fraser's Gully
I've lived in Dunedin, New Zealand, for around 55 years of my life. I was in Melbourne for the first three years, moved to Dunedin, stayed here for my childhood and adolescence. Had some very brief stints in Wellington and Auckland while I worked for the NZ Opera Company, moved back to Dunedin, went overseas to the UK for six years, came back with my newly-married wife, lived here totally until 2007 when I spent another five and a half months in the UK, and have been here since.
In all that time I have never once walked up the track through Fraser's Gully - in spite of the fact that I've passed the entrance to it hundreds of times, and have even dropped children off there for football or softball or something in the past.
I said to my wife this afternoon we needed to go for a walk and she was agreeable (she has to keep her reputation up now that she's appeared as the poster girl for Green Prescription in the latest Sport Otago magazine). It was intended as a bit of a fat burner walk, and proved to be that and more.
We wound up walking up Fraser's Gully, right from Kaikorai Valley Rd at the bottom to Dalziel Rd at the top - and then to cap it we walked around down to Taieri Rd, visited my son and his family for a bit and walked back to the car in KV Rd. Quite a bit of a jaunt.
Fraser's Gully turns out to be a delight. I've included a couple of photos here - which I took on the cellphone so the quality may not be high - but I could have photographed a heap more. The track is accompanied by a stream running downhill (naturally) on the left as you climb, and there are small waterfalls and lots of rocks and a
ll the stuff that goes with a normal stream. The track itself is steep in places, although it wasn't as much as I thought it might be - and certainly no worse than climbing Brockville Rd, which runs parallel to it some blocks further south. Fraser's Gully track comes out in Dalziel Rd, which runs along the top of Brockville.The walk certainly cleared the brains, which had become pretty foggy over the weekend, and helped get our muscles moving. We might not have done it if we'd thought about how far we were going to go, but we did!
On the way back down Taieri Rd we passed the Fernhill Reserve. I haven't been in there since I was a teenager, when Brian Hellyer lived in a house there. He was a doctor who sang in several Dunedin Opera Company productions (and other shows) and I once visited this house which seemed to be hidden away in miles of bush - we went there at night!
Friday, October 30, 2009
My wife and I go on holiday
Since this blog isn't normally about what we do on holiday, (even though there are a couple of earlier posts relating to the one we've been on most recently - here and here) I'll revert to using my Travel blog for further posts on the subject. So this one is just by way of introduction, and to alert you that there's more to the Crowl world of blog than this Random one.
The main focus of the holiday was a wedding we were attending in Napier, and when we were invited some months ago, we decided to take a week all up, fly to Wellington, stay there for a couple of nights, drive to Napier, stay there for the wedding and then drive on to some other destinations and then back to Wellington.
We hired a car on the Net through a company called Apex Rentals, whom I'd be happy to recommend. I don't think they provide up to date vehicles necessarily (or rather, we chose one that wasn't new) but their service seems fine, and they run efficiently, and the cost overall was within our budget. Best of all, we had no problems with the car, or the hiring. We could have hired ourselves an RV (or the NZ equivalent thereof), and saved ourselves some accommodation, but RVs (or the NZ equivalent thereof) are expensive to hire here, and thereby we avoided any RV breakdown (!) [Just had to sneak all that in, and it's roughly relevant.]
My wife has gone off to Auckland (she flew out from Wellington for another week's holiday, this time with my daughter and her family) with the camera and the smart drive with all the photos on it, so I won't be able to add photos to this post, or to those on the other blog. Maybe I'll come back and include them later...something I've been meaning to do since 2007 in relation to the overseas trip we took.
So....off you go to the Travel blog and check out some of the highs and lows...!
The main focus of the holiday was a wedding we were attending in Napier, and when we were invited some months ago, we decided to take a week all up, fly to Wellington, stay there for a couple of nights, drive to Napier, stay there for the wedding and then drive on to some other destinations and then back to Wellington.
We hired a car on the Net through a company called Apex Rentals, whom I'd be happy to recommend. I don't think they provide up to date vehicles necessarily (or rather, we chose one that wasn't new) but their service seems fine, and they run efficiently, and the cost overall was within our budget. Best of all, we had no problems with the car, or the hiring. We could have hired ourselves an RV (or the NZ equivalent thereof), and saved ourselves some accommodation, but RVs (or the NZ equivalent thereof) are expensive to hire here, and thereby we avoided any RV breakdown (!) [Just had to sneak all that in, and it's roughly relevant.]
My wife has gone off to Auckland (she flew out from Wellington for another week's holiday, this time with my daughter and her family) with the camera and the smart drive with all the photos on it, so I won't be able to add photos to this post, or to those on the other blog. Maybe I'll come back and include them later...something I've been meaning to do since 2007 in relation to the overseas trip we took.
So....off you go to the Travel blog and check out some of the highs and lows...!
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Auckland and Vancouver tie
You may not believe it if you're a Mainlander (that's people from the South Island for those who aren't familiar with the expression) but Auckland comes fourth equal with Vancouver in Mercer 2009 Quality of Living survey, which covered 215 cities and was based on criteria including political, social, economic and environmental factors. Even more amazing - to Australians at least - is that Sydney only came in 10th.
Here are the 10 Best Cities:
1. Vienna (Austria)
2. Zurich (Switzerland)
3. Geneva (Switzerland)
4. Auckland (New Zealand) and Vancouver (Canada)
6. Dusseldorf (Germany)
7. Munich (Germany
8. Frankfurt (Germany)
9. Bern (Switzerland)
10. Sydney (Australia)
And here are the 10 worst, most of which will hardly surprise you:
1. Baghdad (Iraq)
2. Bangui (Central African Republic)
3. Ndjamena (Chad)
4. Brazzaville (Congo)
5. Khartoum (Sudan)
6. Sanaa (Yemen Arab Republic)
7. Pointe Noire (Congo)
8. Nouakchott (Mauritania)
9. Kinshasa (Democratic Republic of the Congo)
10. Port au Prince (Haiti)
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Ryan Youens
A few years ago at Dunedin City Baptist (somewhere between 2002 and 2005) a young fellow called Ryan Youens used to play the piano during the worship, on occasions. It was a period when we had a number of fine pianists; there was also another youth who was training to be a doctor.
Ryan's been gone from Dunedin for at least three years, so it was good to catch up with him on Facebook today, and learn something of what he's doing.
He completed his Masters degree in composition early in 2007 at the New Zealand School of Music in Wellington, working with Jack Body, Michael Norris and John Psathas. (Note that his teachers include one of my favourite composers and one of my not-favourites!)
Ryan had already had a fairly illustrous academic time: he began studying at Auckland University in 2001, moved to Otago University, studied with Anthony Ritchie and graduated with a Bachelor of Music degree with first class honours in 2005. He also received a couple of prizes during his Otago stint.
Ryan’s work has been performed by the Gruppetto Quartet (Greece), Auckland Symphony Orchestra, Southern Sinfonia, Marama Chamber Orchestra, Dunedin Youth Orchestra, Southern Consort of Singers, The Committee and at the 2007 Asian Composers League Festival in Wellington.
He's been a part of the NZSO/TODD Young Composer Awards on three occasions and his piece “Rakaia” was a part of the 2008 NZSO/SOUNZ Readings.
Ryan now lives back in Auckland, his hometown, works as a composer, music copyist and engraver, teaches music, conducts several orchestras and is frequently arranging and orchestrating music which has been performed in New Zealand, Europe, North and South America.
Sounds like Ryan has a busy career ahead of him!
Thanks to the SOUNZ site for some of this info
Ryan's been gone from Dunedin for at least three years, so it was good to catch up with him on Facebook today, and learn something of what he's doing.
He completed his Masters degree in composition early in 2007 at the New Zealand School of Music in Wellington, working with Jack Body, Michael Norris and John Psathas. (Note that his teachers include one of my favourite composers and one of my not-favourites!)
Ryan had already had a fairly illustrous academic time: he began studying at Auckland University in 2001, moved to Otago University, studied with Anthony Ritchie and graduated with a Bachelor of Music degree with first class honours in 2005. He also received a couple of prizes during his Otago stint.
Ryan’s work has been performed by the Gruppetto Quartet (Greece), Auckland Symphony Orchestra, Southern Sinfonia, Marama Chamber Orchestra, Dunedin Youth Orchestra, Southern Consort of Singers, The Committee and at the 2007 Asian Composers League Festival in Wellington.
He's been a part of the NZSO/TODD Young Composer Awards on three occasions and his piece “Rakaia” was a part of the 2008 NZSO/SOUNZ Readings.
Ryan now lives back in Auckland, his hometown, works as a composer, music copyist and engraver, teaches music, conducts several orchestras and is frequently arranging and orchestrating music which has been performed in New Zealand, Europe, North and South America.
Sounds like Ryan has a busy career ahead of him!
Thanks to the SOUNZ site for some of this info
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Second Hand Wedding
The movie we saw at home (see the previous post) was Second Hand Wedding, a NZ film with Geraldine Brophy in the lead. It stands or falls on her skills, basically, as she’s the focus of a good deal of it. And she does a great job. Her acting is full of subtlety and humour, and pathos in the scenes where she faces how her daughter truly sees her.
The story is simple. Brophy plays a woman (almost) obsessed with garage sales. But she’s crafty and clever and knows how to strike a bargain, as well as knowing what’s worth getting. Her house is chocker with acquired goods, and somehow she and her ever-patient and retired husband manage to live peacefully in the midst of it all. Her daughter gets engaged, but doesn’t want to tell her mother because she thinks the latter will take over the wedding and bring all her specifically-acquired bargains along with her. There are a couple of minor subplots, but the story sticks to a pretty straightforward telling of events, and does it well.
Ryan O’Kane (whose face is very familiar, but I can’t see why, since the only thing I might recognise him from is Out of the Blue, the film about the Aramoana mass murder) and Holly Shanahan make a pleasant young couple; Patrick Rose, who’s been in a host of NZ films and TV, plays the long-suffering husband, and there are various other familiar faces amongst the cast, including Ray Henwood.
The film is set in Wellington's Kapiti Coast apparently (I'd thought it was Auckland!) and nicely shot amongst the persimmon trees and the rata and all the other typical suburban foliage. Fun viewing.
You can watch a scene from the film on Flicks.co.nz
Friday, July 25, 2008
Pacific Blues
My wife and I are flying to Auckland today via Pacific Blue, one of Virgin Blue’s offshoots. We’d booked a flight several weeks ago when fares were particularly cheap, so we’re hoping we won’t be sitting in seats that make you keep you knees under your chin somewhere.
Pacific Blue offers a web check-in system and notified me by automatic email yesterday that I could do this. (For some odd reason you can only do it a day in advance, compared to Air NZ’s facility to book your particular seats weeks in advance.)
So I clicked on the link in the email, put in my number and then tried to find my departure city from the drop-down list. Hmm, all Australian cities, and I’m leaving from Dunedin in New Zealand.
Rang Pacific Blue. Turns out I have to be on the New Zealand web check-in section. Try again. Put the reservation number, drop down, find Dunedin, and click next. Receive message: Web Check-in is not available for itineraries containing international flight segments. Please proceed to the airport and see the Pacific Blue Guest Services Staff..
Ring Pacific Blue. Must be a temporary glitch. Try again later.
Try again later. Still a glitch.
Try again when I get home from work. Same message. Ring Pacific Blue. This operator’s explanation is that there must be an international component in my flight! I tell her I’m only going from Dunedin to Auckland. I look at the flight plan. Is it likely that the Christchurch to Auckland section is international? Seems unlikely, since Pacific Blue, as the operator ought to know, is New Zealand based, not international!
We have an impasse, I say. She doesn’t understand the word, since she’s probably sitting in the heat of Malaysia. We have reached a wall. She tells me she can’t check in for me because she doesn’t have access to that facility. That makes two of us. We don’t depart on the greatest of terms, since her willingness to help doesn’t go beyond what she’s been trained to do, apparently.
Hopefully, when we get to the airport today, the check-in staff won’t have the same difficulties!
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Update on Gareth Farr
Some updates on Gareth Farr (whom I’m listening to at present on my CD player).
1. He’s currently the resident composer of the Auckland Philharmonia, which is kind of being like the Poet Laureate of a country, but on a smaller scale. As a result of being RC for the AP, he wrote a fanfare for their annual al fresco concert, the Mazda Summer Matinee. (Not sure how the Mazda people got in there, but no doubt they have a good reason.) The orchestra’s chief executive, Barbara Glaser, said the fanfare is ‘”so bright and vibrant. Gareth understands just what the spirit of a fanfare is. It has all the excitement and rhythmic touches that we love about him.”
Sounds like Gareth all right. Excitement and rhythm are second nature to him.
2. As well as writing a fanfare, Farr arranged a couple of songs written by the NZ pop group, Evermore. Evermore performed these with full orchestral backing. Gareth was quoted as saying, “Orchestras are such dramatically wonderful ensembles.” He should know; that’s certainly how he writes for them. The orchestra was also playing some of its more regular repertoire: Mozart, Bach, Beethoven. Wonder how those three would feel being alongside Evermore? And I wonder which of the four will be heard evermore?
3. In a report from gaynz.com, someone wrote about the Te Papa Museum’s 10th birthday: “Other highlights throughout the day include the reprisal [sic] of Gareth Farr's composition Te Papa performed by the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra.”
Now some listeners might think Gareth’s music is a reprisal for their view that he’s too modern, or too loud, or too everything, but I suspect that the writer actually meant ‘reprise,’ which means that the piece is being played again, in this instance in the same place where it was first performed, and by the same orchestra that played on that occasion.
1. He’s currently the resident composer of the Auckland Philharmonia, which is kind of being like the Poet Laureate of a country, but on a smaller scale. As a result of being RC for the AP, he wrote a fanfare for their annual al fresco concert, the Mazda Summer Matinee. (Not sure how the Mazda people got in there, but no doubt they have a good reason.) The orchestra’s chief executive, Barbara Glaser, said the fanfare is ‘”so bright and vibrant. Gareth understands just what the spirit of a fanfare is. It has all the excitement and rhythmic touches that we love about him.”
Sounds like Gareth all right. Excitement and rhythm are second nature to him.
2. As well as writing a fanfare, Farr arranged a couple of songs written by the NZ pop group, Evermore. Evermore performed these with full orchestral backing. Gareth was quoted as saying, “Orchestras are such dramatically wonderful ensembles.” He should know; that’s certainly how he writes for them. The orchestra was also playing some of its more regular repertoire: Mozart, Bach, Beethoven. Wonder how those three would feel being alongside Evermore? And I wonder which of the four will be heard evermore?
3. In a report from gaynz.com, someone wrote about the Te Papa Museum’s 10th birthday: “Other highlights throughout the day include the reprisal [sic] of Gareth Farr's composition Te Papa performed by the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra.”
Now some listeners might think Gareth’s music is a reprisal for their view that he’s too modern, or too loud, or too everything, but I suspect that the writer actually meant ‘reprise,’ which means that the piece is being played again, in this instance in the same place where it was first performed, and by the same orchestra that played on that occasion.
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