A slow awakening

Nothing like a devastating earthquake
in the foothills of the uninhabited
mountains of lost memories
(which once we called experience)
a tremor starts

its epicentre
neither seen nor known nor understood
but felt with all the close intensity
of a lover's breath upon the back
of a neck bending towards sunlight.
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Up

Charming. It's laugh out loud funny at times and I can't recall the last time I was at a movie when the entire audience laughed together. it's impossible not to be impressed by the people at Pixar. They create modern fairy tales (in contrast to Disney, the grand-daddy of re-telling old tales). Pixar takes risks too. Up is a very good example: it's the tale of an old man who takes to flight in a house carried by helium filled party balloons; perhaps the most charismatic character, Ellie, leaves the stage after 20 minutes; there's realistic death (last saw that in Bambi). Loved it. The short film that precedes Up, Partly Cloudy, is another Pixar gem.

Oracle

Meryl Tankard's new work at the Opera House based on the rites of spring is brilliant. Paul White's dancing was astonishing. I ended the evening with panache ... tumbling off the stair lift on to the floor. No real damage done but one was almost crushed to death by the stampede of available young men who ran to assist. Cool is not the word for it but 5.7 for the artistic merit of one's dive. dickhead.

Sign of the times

First of two days of discussion by the Council I'm paid to support. We presented an enormous cake to Chevoy, one of the AUSLAN interpreters we use regularly. She has recently been the winner of an award as the nation's top interpreter. Chevoy seemed genuinely touched. My over-ordering means she'll be eating cake until next year's winner is announced. The image was laser-printed onto rice paper then Michelle's cake-shop ... national chain ... topped the sponge with the jpeg image. Ah, the wonder of the Internet.

Acts of creation ... blow torch essential

Rabbit Proof Fence

First of two classes on the movie of 2002 based on the book of 1994. Asked by Dr Morrison what we thought of the film when first we saw it (on release) I found myself (surprisingly) letting rip ... didn't trust its story-telling from the moment it started until the end; tells us it's a "true story" but the film doesn't even stick with Doris's re-telling of her mother's story; scenes in the movie that simply aren't in the book - A O Neville never met Molly, no evidence that kids sang Swanee to him, the girls didn't travel south by train in a cage but by boat as passengers, Mavis is fictional, the girls didn't steal on their journey home, they didn't collapse in the desert to be saved by a bird, Gracie's capture at the railway line never took place, Molly and Daisy rode the last section on a family friend's camel. It was, I said, bleeding heart liberalism at its worse. Why couldn't Noyce simply tell the girls' story as they recounted it? Why do the whole Hollywood job on a story with enough drama in it to satisfy anyone?

The (male) movie-maker's gaze upon the precocious, defiant central character idealised her story. There were too many distorting fictions that reinforced conservative portrayals of undifferentiated aboriginality as perceived by the dominant ideology ... white, male, urban, middle-class looking at black, female, childlike, noble savage archetypes fixed firmly in the past. I suggested too that everyone in the room try the Neil Armstrong test ... name the second man on the moon or the third, fourth or fifth ... applied to black Australian actors ... name someone other than David Gulpilil ... big silence then, Ernie Dingo maybe.

But I felt the unfairness of my own argument. Phillip Noyce's movie took the story of the Stolen Generations to millions of people who would never have engaged with it otherwise. RPF raised interest in real issues at home and abroad. This is true for me as much as anyone. I find the book more compelling but I never thought of buying it until tjhe movie was made. that'll make me another bleeding heart hypocrite I guess.

Read the book. Watch the movie. Make up your own mind.

by the way ... read about the fence here. As if it could ever have kept out rabbits. What a monument to the silliness of men.

"Unfortunately, the fence did not stop the rabbits from moving westward. There were parts of the fence which eroded underneath, holes in the wire developed, and sometimes gates would be left open, enabling the rabbits to pass through."
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Study day

Spike worked on essay. I watched Rabbit Proof Fence, the movie made by Phillip Noyce. I know which one of us had the tougher academic task. My old doubts about the movie were not challenged by watching it once more. The word may be problematic.

New Breed

Thanks to free tickets as part of a promotion to spread the word about the access improvements at the Sydney Opera House we attended the afternoon show of new dance pieces at the Playhouse. The new wheelchair location is immeasurably better than the previous arrangement. We stayed for the Q & A with the choreographers. That was interesting.

The show offered the first chance for each of the choreographers to stage a piece at the SOH in front of a live (sold out) audience. All four behaved as if Christmas had come early. I enjoyed the four dances, each quite different from the others (although all of them were fairly muscular and athletic rather than balletic). Slack was the most engaging for me (Spike too) but all four were truly impressive.
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Follow The Rabbit Proof Fence

Started and finished the book by Doris Pilkington in preparation for next week's class on the movie. The short read contains a great deal. It's infinitely preferable to what I can recall of the film.

Why so loud?

Good question. Second Beloved class.

More then mildly irritated man ...

... discovers why those who do have been raving about the television series Mad Men. I didn't drive Spike to Dooralong for father's day because the damn chain broke yesterday. Do I think there's a link ... no pun intended ... to the six weeks and work done in Revesby? Well, is the Pope a Catholic and do bears shit in the woods?

Seriously pissed off, by myself and much in need of distraction I turned to the web for diverting entertainment. After reading the UK Sunday newspapers, listening to Just A Minute and Mark Kermode's movie reviews on BBC Radio I finally caught Mad Men. I'm hooked. It's brilliant. The bravado of the writing is awe-inspiring. It's like watching a Richard Yates character step out of one of his short stories. At times it's hard to believe the world was like that but I can accept that it was ... the search for a company Jew, the silence of black characters in this white-man's world, the advertising men with their views of women (like a dog with a typewriter!!), the vulnerability of the probably gay character. I've seen four episodes now. I hope it stays away from soap opera. Brilliant television.
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Happy birthday Simon

After Rosie's concert at the Concordia Club (at which she didn't sing) and after the chain broke on the van, which meant Spike had to hold the door closed using the oily chain, and after driving up and down Leichhardt's busy streets in search of a parking spot, we spent what was left of the evening with Simon and Dilys, the family and friends helping him celebrate his birthday. S & D are off to Spain in a couple of weeks. It's the first I've seen of them for 9 months. It was, of course, slightly odd at the outset but genuinely enjoyable in the end. That's progress I suppose.

Giles Bettison at Sabbia Gallery

Spike took me to an opening at Sabbia of work by South Australian glass artist Giles Bettison. I admire the commitment that's obvious in the pieces made using a traditional technique known as murrine. The troble is that as admirable as that commitment is and as technically precise as it must be I'm afraid Mr Bettison's work left me unmoved. I couldn't imagine living with any of his work. Still, at least half of the works sported red dots so my guess is Giles doesn't care what I think. In fact, he doesn't even know I'm alive.

I had a near-miss ... although strictly speaking it was a near hit. I moved in my chair, lost balance and headed toward the floor. I stopped when Spike grabbed me then hauled me back to upright. I missed a plinth holding two of Giles's pieces by the smallest fraction imaginable. There would have been a $15,000 fall I could certainly have done without.
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Happy man

6 weeks and $2,600 later ... I got the van back today. Hip, hip, hooray!!!
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