by Isaure Cointreau

When I said I was going to Oslo for a couple of days the reactions I got were very uncanny. Normally everybody feels excitement upon the topic of travel but here utter surprise was in order.

-         Oslo, really? What are you going to do in Finland?

-         Try Norway. Finland is bit further east.

Looking for new sights to explore and a breath of fresh air, what could be a better idea than to check out a Scandinavian country? The whole prospect does have an edgy look to it though depends  what you are into. I for my part was not deceived. Arriving at Oslo with a Ryan Air 15£ return ticket, I was an hour bus ride away from the centre of the capital. Checking in at the Anker Hostel, this cheap way to put a roof above my head accommodated me with six Swedish roommates. Only a few blocks away from the interesting spots of the city, one only has to choose where he wants to start.

There are tons of sights to get acquainted to and although Oslo is a really nice and easy walk it is not as small as it feels. Public transportation is really accessible and well organized. You can then go from one point of the city to another in no time. However, if you ever get lost don’t be afraid to ask, I’ve never met so warm hearted people and they’ll gladly help you out. Plus, everyone speaks perfect English as if they were natives.  French and Italians can blush!

A good place to start your visit would be to follow Karl Johans gate. The Cathedral, the Parliament, the Oslo University, the National Theatre and the Palace set the background of this high end street. I must admit the architecture is mostly impressive although I was very much deceived by the royal residency. Too plain or too simple, the least would be to say that I was more impressed by its incredible view of the city and its gardens than the building itself. In terms of museum there are several not to miss. The National Gallery is one of them and has a wide varied collection of artists from Norway and afar. There, I was introduced to Kittelsen’s trolls and breathtaking landscapes,  Krohg’s exceptional portraits and “mise en scene”.

On the account of renowned Norwegian artists Munch, Ibsen and Vigeland are the pride and joy of the country. Therefore they all have a private space where their work is exposed. For one the Munch museum is a must see. Offering a true understanding of the artist’s perspective on live and art, this place is a cave of wonders. Ibsen, best known for Peer Gynt, Hedda Gabbler and The doll’s house had his own apartment turned into the museum of his life, plays and success. Let it be an introduction for those who don’t know Oslo’s favourite playwright. Other than that the Vigeland sculpture park is the most amazing experience I have ever had in a city garden. With as many as 212 statues the sculptor has shaped in clay lively and profound scenes of humanism. From children to the elderly, love to hate, peace to war, this park offers a parallel between life and death.

As far as food and drinks are concerned Oslo is a minefield of cute and trendy, rocky, jazzy and classic sites. Karl Johans Gate, the city centre’s main road offers a wide range of choices. I would recommend Samson for breakfast for its yummy traditional pastries. Although Norwegian’s are really big on sandwiches  with their coffee in the morning, try a selection of their desserts. If you like almonds you are in for a treat! For lunch I loved Lorry with it eccentric/attic look. You’ll find yourself eating with a bunch of antiquities such as a stuffed giraffe and zebra, army caps and wild art. Being the place to be for intellectuals and people within the arts, the quirky look of this place and your salmon will be quite the experience. Looking forward to a break? Stop by the local jazz bar held by Norwegian icon Bodil Anbefaler. It’s great music and fun people in a cosy (almost New York style) atmosphere.  The Bare Jazz AS on Grensen Street is one of my favourite spots in the city. Other than that I really enjoyed dinner at Cathedral. In a weird solemn candlelight ambiance, the heavy wood of the furniture recall a medieval look. The food is amazing, and the photos shot in this small pub-like restaurant are incredible ( as if Georges de La tour had guided the light effects of our snapshots.

It was so nice up North, I guess I have a little crush on Oslo. Inspiring me the desire to know more about Scandinavian countries, let’s consider this  the beginning of my exploration of the Baltic. It’ll take time but I can only dream about it.

All’s well that ends well and Schaübhne Theatre Company’s revised and updated production of Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler ends very well.

The final moments of this production border on gloriousness. Unfortunately, the 130 minutes that proceed them are nowhere near as satisfying. Overall, this up-dated version of Ibsen comes across like a well-executed soap opera intermittently punctuated with rare moments of aesthetic brilliance.

Hedda Gabbler, our heroine, is bored and petulant from the very moment we meet her. We soon learn that she has married someone she doesn’t love because, of all her suitors, he is the only one willing to foot the bill for her pampered but boring lifestyle.

An old love re-enters her life, riding a wave of unexpected success. Hedda, fueled by a toxic mixture of bordeom and jealousy, decides to destroy his life and, effortlessly, she does. Her game, however, does not play out as she hopes and, because of her own criminal actions, she ends up at the mercy of someone who intends to take full sexual advantage of his power.

In one last desperate attempt to rail against the people and the world around her, Hedda kills herself. Unfortunately, for our heroine, her final act of defiance is ignored by the very people she intends to defy. Their indifference carries with it a hint of ridicule.

I suppose, in the late 19th century, Hedda’s situation might have engendered some sympathy because, at least in that context, it is more plausible to believe her existence is largely determined by her social circumstances. Even so, it is difficult to sympathize too much with Hedda because the aristocratic tragedy of her circumstances seems to be only that she is forced to marry beneath her station.

In the early 21st century, however, Hedda’s situation does not generate any sympathy. She is simply a spoiled brat who plays with pistols instead of surfing the net, who destroys the lives of old lovers because it is more vivid than HDTV, and who kills herself because she can’t be bothered finding a good lawyer.

On the one hand, it is plausible that the production intends to satirize the lifestyle of the German middle class, generally-speaking, and the 21st century Hedda, in particular, and the satire is lost on me because the play is performed in German, with French and English surtitles. Moreover, this more charitable reading helps justify performances, costume choices, and staging choices that are reminiscent of television soap opera.

For example, at one point, the German actor seems to use the word “kitsch”, the French translation uses “kitsch”, and the English translation uses the word “sentiment.” The expression “kitsch” brings with it a host of conations not at all captured by the word “sentiment.”  The result is the francophones in the audience have a big laugh that simply does not translate.

On the other hand, as far as I can gather from his interviews, director Thomas Ostermeier expects us to sympathize and identify with Hedda. From this I can only infer he also expects us to identify with her ennui, her disdain for the people around her, and her nihilism.

And with that discovery, we return to the final glorious scene.

Hedda lies dead, her suicide ignored. Suddenly, the conventions of realism are ruptured, as Hedda’s hopelessly naive husband discovers his home is revolving. He carries on as if nothing is really the matter. He ignores the absurdity of his metaphysical reality in the same way he ignores Hedda’s reaction to it.

I suspect Ostermeier’s intention is that we are meant to feel sympathy for Hedda whose last desperate effort at glory in an absurd world is ignored by a mediocre and naive middle class who likewise ignore the absurd foundations of their existence and carry on living as if nothing really is the matter.

On this reading, the final scene is a beautiful yet tragic homage to our nihilist heroine.

In contrast, in this final scene, I see a spoiled brat, whose last pathetic and self-indulgent tantrum is rightly ignored, along with the snobbery and metaphysical absurdity that motivates it. Her nihilist tragedy is, for me, a moment of delight. She is the fool, and the last laugh is on her.

The world’s middle classes are rightly criticized for many of their life choices, however, the decision to ignore the tantrums of a spoiled nihilist and to choose life in the face of its metaphysical absurdity is a choice that should always be celebrated — whoever makes it.

For more posts like this, click here.

Regissør Vegard Vinge og scenograf Ida Müller skapte oppstandelse under Festspillene i Bergen da første akt av deres oppsetning av Vildanden varte til klokken 0230 om natten uten forvarsel. Her kan du se en kortversjon av deres Dukkehjem-oppsetning fra festivalen i Linz i oktober i år.

Bakgrunn for produksjonen i intervju med Norsk Shakespeare- og Teatertidsskrift

Dyadebloggens reaksjon etter nyheten om at forestillingen under Festspillene ble stoppet.

Fascinerende avantgarde eller selvsentrert sprøyt? Døm selv. For en småbarnsfar faller nok YouTube-versjonen best i smak.

Publicado originalmente en la Revista Tiempo de Hoy

En Europa acogemos a los represaliados del islam que escribieron obras de arte y tuvieron que huir por no ser suficientemente cuidadosos. El arte de ser cuidadoso ha acompañado a los europeos en distintas épocas oscuras, pero siempre hubo valientes que dijeron lo que tenían que decir pesase a quien pesase. El héroe ruso Bulgakov, que desafió a Stalin dando su verdad sobre la URSS con su novela Corazón de perro y más tarde le escribió una carta suplicándole el exilio, es quizás uno de los ejemplos que más emocionan. O Stefan Zweig, que tuvo que alejarse de los que habían sido sus amigos intelectuales por decir que la I Guerra Mundial era un acto de inconsciencia. Acogemos en París al afgano Atiq Rahimi, un novelista de estilo descarnado que tiene en España otro hogar literario gracias a las traducciones de Siruela y Lengua de Trapo. Cuidamos de la seguridad de Salman Rushdie, condenado a muerte por los ayatolás por su novela Los versos satánicos. Escuchamos al hombre que, tras el velo de Yasmina Khadra, disecciona con novelas naturalistas la realidad podrida de Argelia. Y a lo largo de la historia, ¿cuántos no habrán venido aquí y a EEUU buscando el derecho de hablar sin encontrar la muerte o el ostracismo?

La moral reinante siempre vence al escritor con el arma más peligrosa: el silencio. Pero la moral islámica ortodoxa no es la única que ha silenciado, porque no sólo los que entran en nuestro esquema moral han quedado mudos en la historia de la literatura. Hay tantos esquemas morales… Mikel Azurmendi y Fernando Savater viven fuera de su patria chica por hablar claro sobre el nacionalismo radical. La diferencia con los anteriores es que estos dos son ensayistas y su escritura es vecina de la política. ¿Qué hay de Ayaan Hirsi Ali, la somalí que denuncia la situación de la mujer en los países islámicos, o el difunto Samir Kassir, brutalmente asesinado por preferir un islam moderado y defender la idea de que los árabes tuvieron su ilustración en momentos en que el monstruo fanático dormía? Los ejemplos de arte acallado o denostado por una mala decisión, a veces una decisión abyecta, son numerosos y dispares. El factor común es la muralla que separa los lectores y las obras: la red de desconocimiento, la ignorancia, el prejuicio. Hay personas que dedican la última parte de su vida a enmendarse y buscar la redención por sus actos equivocados.

Hay otros que cometen el error en sus últimos momentos y van a la tumba con un cortejo fúnebre de hostilidad. Para hablar de ejemplos dolientes es necesaria una gradación, porque los crímenes de los escritores son como los del resto, desiguales: Raúl Barón Biza, autor de El desierto y su semilla (Ed. Fahrenheit 451), destruyó la cara de su mujer con ácido antes de suicidarse. Knut Hamsun, premio Nobel en 1920, hirió al país que lo consideraba su hijo predilecto cuando apoyó la invasión nazi de Noruega. El francés Céline fue condenado a muerte por su colaboración con los hitlerianos. Mircea Eliade lloraba cuando el Eje se desmoronaba. Cuando las ideas o los actos son nefastos, como en estos casos, escritor y obra se escinden. La vida está hecha de leyes que castigan al criminal y, mientras el corazón palpita, la ley es buena. Si Barón Biza se adelantó a la ley pegándose un tiro, haciéndose esa fotografía del perfecto monstruo, y a Hamsun lo hundieron en la miseria los tribunales médicos de la renaciente Noruega, ¿no fue suficiente castigo? El caso de Barón Biza y su crimen es algo sobre lo que nadie pondrá la defensa, pero su obra no deja de ser magnífica por ello, pese a compartir el trasfondo vil del escritor.

La obra continúa con vida después de la existencia benigna o maligna del autor, pero frecuentemente el juicio moral sobre él (la persona) hace metástasis en la obra. No tenemos por qué comulgar con las ideas de escritores que amamos. ¿Debe García Márquez condenar el castrismo? ¿Fue más inteligente que el resto Albert Camus al alejarse del estalinismo cuando sus coetáneos hablaban del asesinato masivo con la boca pequeña? ¿Es el giro al liberalismo de Vargas Llosa algo más o menos malo que la comodidad en el viejo socialismo de José Saramago? Hay quien piensa que defender a un escritor que apoyó a los nazis es inmoral. Quizá es un acto de justicia artística.

Knut Hamsun
Se cumplen 150 años del nacimiento de Hamsun, al que algunos llaman nazi. Cuando el rey de Noruega viajó a su antigua casa en 1992 y dio la mano al hijo de Hamsun, uno de los diarios de mayor tirada escribió: “Harald V da la mano al hijo de un traidor”. Camilo José Cela hizo de Hamsun una emocionante defensa: “Se equivocó con su apoyo a Vidkun Quisling y su gozo ante el invasor alemán no fue un prodigio de oportunidad, pero su fallo fue dejarse arrastrar por los engañosos y melodiosos cantos de sirena de la política”. Knut Hamsun nació en Noruega en 1859 y murió en 1952. Pasó hambre, buscó fortuna en EEUU sin encontrarla, publicó 37 obras y ganó el premio Nobel de Literatura en 1920. Veinticinco años después quedó fascinado por el III Reich y apoyó al nazismo que invadía su país, regaló su medalla del Nobel a Goebbels y dijo que Hitler había sido un “luchador por la humanidad y el derecho de todas las naciones”, palabras de las que no se desdijo jamás hasta su muerte en 1952.

Quien toma partido por la idea equivocada tiene muy mala fortuna, pero es peor si esa idea resulta además derrotada y maldita. Diego Moreno, editor de Nórdica, que sacará antes de fin de año la primera biografía sobre Hamsun en español, llama la atención sobre una curiosa paradoja: si el nazismo hubiera triunfado en Europa, la obra de Hamsun seguiría teniendo exactamente la misma calidad, aunque él fuera un héroe. Kirsti Baggethun vive en España y se ha convertido en una promotora de la obra literaria de Knut Hamsun. Sus traducciones son las primeras directas del noruego en nuestro país y abren una brecha de conocimiento en la ignorancia. Hasta los años sesenta la publicación española de Hamsun fue bastante sólida (y mediocre, con traducciones del alemán y un aspecto de novela romántica en la mayor parte de los libros) pero con la Transición y la necesidad de publicar a quienes habían sido censurados la estrella distante declinó.

El incoherente nazismo
Dice Kirsti Baggethun que “escritores por encima de toda sospecha defienden a Hamsun como autor”. ¿Ocurrió esto antes o después de su resbalón político? Thomas Mann dijo que “nunca antes alguien mereció tanto recibir el premio Nobel”, homenaje al que se sumó Maxim Gorki, pero esto ocurrió en el 29. Franz Kafka se refirió a La bendición de la tierra con palabras muy elogiosas, también antes de que el noruego cometiera su crimen. Walter Benjamin demostró su admiración por Vagabundos, pero el autor murió en 1940, de forma que se fue a la tumba sin saber lo que deparaba a los admiradores de Hamsun. Saltando en el tiempo, encontramos palabras elogiosas de Paul Auster, quien dice que “en Hambre se plantea un pensamiento nuevo sobre la naturaleza del arte”. Pero, ¿qué pasó cuando todos le dieron la espalda? Esta indefinición ha sido la constante en todo lector relacionado con Knut Hamsun. Kirsti Baggethun cuenta que a la muerte de Hamsun los periódicos dedicaron escuetas necrológicas al que había sido el paladín de las letras junto a Ibsen. “Precisamente porque estaba en lo más alto, su caída fue terrible –explica–, pero nadie entiende por qué hizo lo que hizo, el país se quedó absorto y se ha mantenido así, entre la ira y la reflexión, durante cincuenta años”.

Poco después de su muerte, mientras los periódicos bogaban entre el desprecio y la discreción, se editaron sus obras completas y la edición tardó muy poco en agotarse. Frases como “no digas a nadie que estoy leyendo a Hamsun” comenzaron a escucharse en voz baja: la obra de Hamsun se estudiaba en la escuela, se emitía en forma de radionovela por la emisora estatal, pero toda mención al autor era… incómoda. Esta incoherencia dolorosa, mezcla de admiración por una obra y dolor por el ángel caído, fue atenuándose con los años. En 2009, año del sesquicentenario de su nacimiento, se ha construido en Hamaroy, donde tuvo su última residencia, una espectacular torre diseñada por Holl, torcida y negra: el Centro Hamsun, homenaje y recuerdo de una vida con doble sentido. Se han celebrado festivales y conferencias, se ha reeditado, ha vuelto a los medios de forma más positiva.

Eso sí, sigue habiendo voces disonantes: colectivos de memoria sobre el Holocausto, políticos de ambas tendencias ideológicas. En la plaza de Grimstad, donde los tribunales lo condenaron, se erige hoy un monumento en su honor que alguien decoró después con esvásticas. La reina de Noruega respondió entonces a la indignación diciendo que los homenajes a Hamsun serían una lección contra el totalitarismo. Repasando su última obra, La senda por la que crece la hierba, Kirsti Baggethun nos dice que Hamsun no se defiende de forma escandalosa. Sencillamente espera a que la tormenta pase, habla de lo que fue su amor por la vida rústica, su creencia en el individuo libre, y espera que “dentro de 100 años todo se haya olvidado”. El tiempo pasa mientras su genialidad sigue brillando en los libros. Europa, la que acoge a las víctimas de todas las ideologías, comienza a perdonar a los que más daño le hicieron. Porque toda obra de arte es un bien indispensable.

ales mai mult sau mai puţin întîmplător, sper să Vă placă

tuturor celor care trec cu mouse-ul sau cu gîndul pe aici, le doresc un sfîrşit de săptămînă frumos!

In noi la memoria è più salda della coscienza (Nina Berberova)

E’ conosciuta maggiormente come narratrice Nina Berberova, ma ha scritto poesie per tutta la vita, senza mai pubblicarle, salvo rare eccezioni in riviste degli emigre russi in Francia (tra le due guerre) e negli stati Uniti degli anni ‘50. E’ una delle più importanti scrittrici della dispora russa. Amò Tjutcev, Baudelaire, Ibsen e in modo particolare Anna Achmatova e Aleksander Blok. Emigrò dalla Russia nel 1922 insieme al marito Chodasevic e visse  svolgendo il lavoro di traduttrice e insegnante prima a Berlino, poi a Parigi e negli Stati Uniti. Fu testimone eccezionale -lucida e fedele- della letteratura dell’emigrazione e dell’esilio e nelle sue poesie, scritte sempre in lingua russa, mescolò slanci metafisici a frammenti di quotidianità, privi  di intonazione egiaca o nostalgica “E son qui tra gli altri/ non sono in esilio, sono in missione”.  Sprezzante di ogni sentimentalismo, quando quattro anni prima della morte, nel settembre del 1989,  ritornò in visita a Leningrado, non volle rivedere i luoghi della giovinezza…

Ottave (I)

Quel giorno ci fu un tramonto così insolitamente prolungato,
nel cielo rosso erano nere le case e il nostro giardino deserto.

Quella notte il cuore non ce la faceva più per le innumerevoli stelle
e spalancammo le finestre sulla vasta notte caldissima.

E al mattino un vento leggero portò il fresco dei mari,
ci furono troppi colori per via dei glicini e delle rose in fiore.

E quella sera me ne andai, pensavo al nostro destino,
pensavo al mio amore, di nuovo – a me e a te.

1927

… what would you like written around your finger?

I have always loved words and I am an admitted font addict. I have a font for every occasion! I am continuously amazed at how a font can carry almost as much weight as the actual text in a graphic setting.

When I first put words in silver, my head swirled with ideas. What, and how to write it – the possibilities were endless. Rings are my personal favorite. There is a significant amount of work involved in the creation of a custom ring. The graphic design (size matters) is crucial, the actual sizing of the ring (size matters here even more so!)  - it all needs to be taken in consideration.  I start at my computer where I work in Photoshop to create a template from which to work. From there, I go through a series of steps to convert that 2D image into a three dimensional form that I can use to sculpt the ring. Working with photopolymers and some japanese techniques. I sculpt each piece by hand. I do not do engraving, nor do I stamp a plain silver band. The procedures I use make deep impressions will not wear away. After polishing and workhardening, I use  a liver of sulfur solution to create a patina that accentuates the words. The jewelry is then hallmarked .999fs (fine silver 99.9% pure) which tarnishes less than sterling silver due to its purity. Sterling silver is 92.5% silver.

I have had clients ask for some pretty cryptic pieces, secrets that only they and maybe a special someone know the meaning of…

Here are some of the other designs I have used on rings. JUST BREATHE has a been very popular!

I can also scan your (or someone you loves)  handwriting to create a very personal piece of jewelry. Let me know your favorite quotes – What do you think would make a great piece of jewelry?

]]> http://lrtiller.wordpress.com/2009/10/12/multimedial-konkurranse-og-workshop-for-ungdom/ Mon, 12 Oct 2009 19:37:33 +0000 atlehaga http://lrtiller.wordpress.com/2009/10/12/multimedial-konkurranse-og-workshop-for-ungdom/

“For tredje gang inviterer Trafo.no og StøpeSkien unge kunstnere fra hele Norge til å samles om gamlefar Ibsen. For å melde deg på til workshopen legger du inn ditt bidrag her på Trafo, du kan delta med tekst, bilde, lyd eller film. 15 heldige får delta og arbeide med video-djene i For Your Eyes Truely, som skal tapetsere fasaser og bygninger i Skien sentrum med videokunst!
Påmeldingsfrist er 31. oktober.”

Kilde: trafo.no

Another Three Winners in a Day

They just keep winning

September has started off with a bang with the Striding Success, the first runner for the month, winning at Balaclava over 1050m in a record time of 59.97sec. This three year old, in his first race after a spell, went to the front from barrier nine fighting off challenger About Me to win by one and a quarter lengths.
Congratulations to trainer Trevor Dansie who also owns the Bel Esprit gelding together with R N Liddy, B F Morris & A P Prosser.
Striding Success (AUS) [2006] Trevor Dansie

Bel Esprit (AUS) – La Bella Zoccola (AUS)

Sold $27000 at Magic Millions 2008 Adelaide Yearling Sale & Races Sessions 1 & 2 by Eliza Park, Kerrie Vic
Siblings not found
An hour and half later, Ibsen lined up at Belmont Park in the Support Your Local TAB Handicap (64) over 1000m and like the previous winner, went to the front from barrier eight holding on to win by a nose from the fast finishing Dante’s Diamond.
This well bred and costly horse is owned by Contract Racing Pty Ltd(Mgr: Mrs J S Moodie), D H K Investments Pty Ltd, P Anastasiou, N S Psaltis, Mrs G C Psaltis, A Sangster, P D Sidwell, some of the big names in racing and has now won three races from fifteen starts
Ibsen (AUS) [2004]Adam Durrant

Bel Esprit (AUS) – Scandinavia (AUS)

Sold $200000, Contract Racing, VIC at William Inglis and Son Ltd. 2006 Premier Yearling by Eliza Park, Kerrie Vic
Siblings
DANAVIA (AUS) [2000] – DANEHILL (USA)0w-1p-4s $5,600Race: 1000-1000m Won: 0-0m Wet: 0w-0p-2sLR 0w-0p-1s

MAGNUS (AUS) [2002] – FLYING SPUR (AUS)4w-11p-24s $1,273,100Race: 1000-1200m Won: 1010-1200m Wet: 1w-0p-2sG1 1w-5p-15s, G2 1w-2p-3s, G3 0w-1p-1s, LR 0w-2p-2s

BALTICS (AUS) [2003] – FUSAICHI PEGASUS (USA)0w-0p-1sRace: 1200-1200m Won: 0-0m Wet: 0w-0p-0s

WILANDER (AUS) [2005] – EXCEED AND EXCEL (AUS)4w-1p-8s $314,100Race: 1000-1200m Won: 1000-1100m Wet: 0w-0p-0sG1 0w-0p-3s, G2 1w-0p-1s, G3 1w-0p-1s, LR 1w-0p-1s
Later in the day Khairesprit who had changed hands, now owned by Mr E Stone and trained by Lyn Paton , flashed up to lose by the same margin as Ibsen won.
Ten dollars each way all the Bels today would have made a profit of $143.00 with Queen Esprit finishing second at Randwick-Kensington, paying $6.80 for a place.
After finishing this story, another Bel Esprit was about to start in the seventh race at Belmont Park and putting my words into action, an investment of ten dollars each way was made and that $143 turned into $226
The Package, who won on 20th of last month when Bel Esprit also had three winners on the same day, notably Bel Estar, The Package and Drifting Spirit, sat in fifth place behind the leaders till entering the straight where he burst between the leaders and win by a long neck.
The Package is trained by Neville Parnham who races him with S N Smith, M Cook, B R Williamson, W C Connor, J Manning, W G Walker, T A Spence, Mrs C A Parnham. The jockey was Duncan Miller who also rode him in his last winning start
The Package (AUS) [2005]

Bel Esprit (AUS) – Sorella (AUS)

Sold $40000, N Parnham, WA at William Inglis and Son Ltd. 2007 Premier Yearling by Carbine Vale Thoroughbreds, Toolern Vale
Siblings
GENORELL (AUS) [2003] – GENERAL NEDIYM (AUS)0w-1p-8s $1,500Race: 1000-1425m Won: 0-0m Wet: 0w-0p-0s

LA ROSSA (AUS) [2004] – TESTA ROSSA (AUS)1w-2p-25s $12,200Race: 1000-1980m Won: 1479-1479m Wet: 0w-0p-2s

Once I decided that I’d like to direct a tragedy, and had Hedda Gabler in my sights as a high probability, I proceeded to read, and read about, various translations and adaptations. The John Osborn version was almost decided upon when I stumbled upon a notice of a recent production of the play in Pittsburgh, adapted by Judith Thompson. It hadn’t been published, but, curious, I decided to contact her agents to see if they’d send me a copy. Thank you, Abigail Algar!

The play just seemed so fresh to me in this translation! Everything was at once the same, and different. Most importantly, however, as I read the play I could hear someone’s voice speaking Hedda’s lines. Coincidentally, I met that person days later at an audition in Portsmouth. I told her that I would submit the show for consideration if she would agree to play the lead. And that’s how Whitney Smith became my Hedda.

Frankly, I only do one thing well as a director. I’m very good at casting. Make sure that the actor is right for your concept of the role. Physicality doesn’t mean much, if you know where you are going with the character. However, never make the audience work at accepting your casting decisions. Don’t jar their sensibilities, or you lose them before you’d had a chance to win them.  And, stick to your instincts. I remember a time when I cast an actor with a glorious voice in a supporting role rather than a lead in a musical. This was because he had greater presence than anyone else for this character, which the part demanded. He wasn’t happy, but finally relented, and came to regard his “lesser” part to be one of his best roles ever.

Once I had Whitney, I could find actors who filled my expectations for the other characters. Who is tall, who is short, who is expressive, who can command a stage, who is vulnerable, who is the right age opposite Whitney in this part- ? For the first time in my years of doing this I had multiple actors accept roles, only to leave the show later. This is devastating when it happens once. It happened three times to me on this production. Remarkably, my “substitutions” are any Seacoast director’s dream. They’ve made my fears and frustrations vanish (well, casting wise, anyway). I am very fortunate, and I know it.

Matt Schofield is a fine actor and friend. His honest decency as a person is his best quality on stage and in life, and will serve him well in the part of Tessman, Hedda’s new husband. Nancy Pearson was cast against type as Berthe, but we’ve managed to find an interesting approach to her character. Constance Witman will play the fascinating Thea – a brave woman much detested by Hedda. Chris Walters will take a matter-of-fact approach to the powerful, and menacing, Brack. Helen Brock gives us vulnerability and grace as Aunt Juliana. Finally, there’s Chris Savage as Lovborg. I don’t know what I would have done if he had passed on this role. Like Whitney, I honestly can’t imagine anyone else in the part.

My cast is perfect. Any failings the show may have will not come from them. I hope to give them every opportunity to shine.

XMAS EVE DOUBLE – IBSEN & BACKABEL
Nice Christmas present for Bel Esprit disciples on 24 December with victories to Ibsen at Ascot and the well named Backabel at Wagga.
It was a tremendous performance by Ibsen to score over the 1000m at Perth’s premier track, racing away to win by near on four lengths.
Raced by some of Victorian breeding’s leading lights – including David and Jenny Moodie, David Kobritz, Peter Anatasiou, Adam Sangster and Peter Sidwell, Ibsen has only been lightly raced with 11 outings, highlighted by two wins and three seconds.
Two of those seconds led up to the Ascot victory, picking up the minors at Pinjarra and Ascot in December after resuming from a six month spell.
Ibsen is racing royalty and the third son of blue hen mare, Scandinavia, to make his presence felt. His year older half brother, Magnus won the AJC Galaxy-G1 and is now standing at Eliza Park (where it all began!), while the year younger half brother, Wilander (sold by Eliza Park for $625,000 at the 2007 Australian Easter Yearling Sale) won the 2008 Schillaci Stakes-G2 during the spring.
Sold by Eliza Park to David Moodie’s Contract Racing for $200,000 at the 2006 Melbourne Premier, Ibsen is certainly well named.
I’m not particularly familiar with the works of Henrik Ibsen, but turns out he was a noted Norwegian playwright of the late 19th century (the equine Ibsen is a grandson of Song of Norway). Some of his works include Peer Gynt, the story of a life based on avoidance (bit like myself come 9am Mondays!).
Ibsen died on 23 May 1906 after a series of strokes. When his nurse assured a visitor that he was a little better, Ibsen sputtered: “on the contrary” and died.
Backabel, on the other hand, doesn’t have quite the same ring to it, but was definitely an omen bet at Wagga on Christmas Eve.
Sent out an $8 pick over the 1200m, Backabel proved too strong for rivals which included another Bel Esprit in the unlucky Royal Express.
Backabel, a 3YO having just his fourth start, is trained and part owned by Rodger Waters at Wantabadgery after being passed in at last year’s Sydney Classic.
A half brother to five winners, including city winners Announcer and From the Boulevard, Backabel is out of an unraced sister to Blue Diamond Stakes-G1 winner Knowledge.
Bel Esprit looks as if he might have a few more winners up his sleeve over the next couple of days and you can check them out on the Bel Esprit blog by clicking here.

Dette innlegget ble publisert på E24 på mandag. Det er ment som noen betraktninger rundt kommentaren til Per Valebrokks “Blytung vaktbikkje” i søndagens VG og på E24.no på mandag.
Hvor ligger fremtiden for journalistikken? I en uke har diskusjonen gått frem og tilbake rundt temaer som Twitter, sosiale medier og journalisters privatliv. Som i politikken har det dannet seg to klare blokker – de som ser at fremtiden er her nå og de som tviholder på gamle prinsipper.

I sin gjestekommentar i Søndags-VG setter Per Valebrokk generalsekretær Per Edgar Kokkvold i Norsk Presseforbund, pressens Peer Gynt, grundig på plass. Det er tydelig at det sitter mange ved det bordet; der Kokkvold og andre jamrer sine holdninger til journalistikken.

Valebrokk:«Nei, jeg gjør ei!»
Kokkvold: «Nå, så bann på det er sant!»
Valebrokk: «Hvorfor banne?»
Kokkvold: «Tvi, du tør ei! Alt i hop er tøv og tant!»
Valebrokk: «Det er sant – hvert evig ord!»

Kanskje var Ibsen fremsynt i sin åpning av Peer Gynt, der han på en usedvanlig passende måte klarer å oppsummere Per Valebrokks kulminasjon av Twitter-debatten som har rast den siste uken i Journalisten, Kampanje, E24, en rekke blogger og ikke minst på Twitter selv. En debatt som ble startet med at undertegnede skrev et motinnlegg til Jarle Aabøs ti antibud til bruk av Twitter.

«Det kan i virkeligheten aldri bli mediebedriftenes primæroppgave å tilfredsstille publikums behov,» har Kokkvold skrevet i en kommentar i Dagens Næringsliv. Og han lurer på hvorfor annonseinntektene har sviktet i de trykte mediene den siste tiden?

Får oss på innsiden
I følge Kampanje mener Kokkvold også at pressefolk ikke skal mene noe som helst. Til unnsetning kommer Valebrokk med deilige og kloke motspill som: «Debattfora, blogger og sosiale medier som Facebook og Twitter fører leseren og redaktøren nærmere hverandre», «Twitter er full av pressefolk fordi det er en god mulighet til å gi og få informasjon», «På Twitter betyr raushet og åpenhet alt. Den som gir, den får» og ikke minst: «Twitter handler ikke om å digge seg selv, men det handler definitivt om journalistikk».

Det siste året har nyhetsbildet vært mer fylt av Twitter-stoff enn mye annet. Som Valebrokk så sant påpeker, har denne kanalen i tillegg både vært nyhetsledende og grensesprengende i mange saker. Den har fått oss på innsiden der ingen journalister er eller får tilgang. Det er her «dagens medievirkelighet preges og skapes”.

Kokkvold og hans likesinnede er Peer Gynt i et nøtteskall. En liten porsjon av Gynts kjærlighet Solveig representerer godt Valebrokk (og for så vidt undertegnede). Tålmodighet skal til for å få til endringer. Motsetninger skal til for å få til en god debatt. Som i diktene og eventyrene er det stort sett de som tør å gjøre noe nytt og annerledes som vinner. Så også i denne debatten.

Journalistikken utvikler seg
Derfor er det på tide å løfte den opp noen hakk. Det handler ikke om Twitter. Det handler om utvikling og en naturlig evolusjon av journalistikken og kommunikasjonsfaget for øvrig.

Det er lett å miste perspektivet på hva utviklingen mot dialog på internett nødvendigvis må ha å si for journalister og kommunikasjonsrådgivere. Jeg har skrevet og sagt det utallige ganger de siste årene, men jeg gjentar det gjerne igjen. Det handler ikke lenger om deg, men om dem. Det handler ikke om teknologi, men om kommunikasjon. Sosiale medier er ikke en ropert, men et høreapparat. Og kanskje det viktigste av alt — det er ikke lenger «vi» folk er opptatt av, men «jeg».

Målet er ikke å kontrollere samtalen, målet er å muliggjøre, inspirere, lære og ikke minst engasjere. Dette gjelder i aller høyeste grad også i journalistikken.

Endrer perspektiver
Med dette perspektivet bør nok Kokkvold gjøre seg noen nye tanker om hva fremtiden for faget bringer. Hva skal til for at han kan finne sin Solveig. Det er ikke noe nytt med sosiale medier, sosiale nettverk eller debattfora. Vi har alltid snakket sammen. Men nå er plattformen Internett som kommunikasjonsfasilitator her, tilgjengelig for alle, hele tiden; journalister, bedrifter, organisasjoner, privatpersoner og politikere. Viktigst av alt – det endrer en del perspektiver for alle, enten man vil eller ikke.

Enig blir de nok aldri, Per og Per. Som Martine Aurdal uttalte i Kampanje: «Vi får være enige om å være uenige».

Så avslutningsvis håper jeg Per (Valebrokk) får siste ordet: «Vi treffes på siste korsveien, Per (Kokkvold); og så får vi se om —; jeg sier ikke mer»

Ruller videre
På Dagbladet  har de tatt tak i vitsestorm mot Kokkvold
Kampanje refererer også til samme sak

All cultures claim to value the truth.  However, sometimes when one person stands up to tell “an inconvenient truth” those around him don’t want to hear, it’s hard to see his words have value.

The great Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen uses the theme of courage in “An Enemy of the People” as one man stands against his town. When I first read this play as a sophomore in college, I was immediately struck by the sub-theme of responsibility and accountability.

Dr. Stockmann, a doctor and man of science, discovers that the water supply for the new baths that have brought the town financial prosperity are polluted by conduit pipes from a neighboring city. The waters are dangerous to everyone, whether taken internally or absorbed externally through the skin. The report he intends to write will ruin his town’s tourism, increase unemployment, and bankrupt the town should they correct the problem.

The town wants to keep the information private and tries to discount his findings.  Stockmann takes the moral stand that protecting public welfare should be the only concern.

As the story unfolds, however, Ibsen shows the way Stockmann’s stance affects his family, and this was for me the most intriguing aspect of the play. We rarely see how one person’s courage in the face of overwhelming odds affects that person’s family.

This had particular importance for me because I saw a correlation between Ibsen’s Stockmann and my father during our years in Mississippi. There is no question that Dad was a brave man, a man of principle and courage.

During the fifties in Mississippi, he took a strong public stance in favor of integration. He wrote a letter to the editor of one of Jackson, Mississippi’s newspapers laying out why Christians had to support integration. However, Dad’s work frequently took him out of town for two or three weeks at a time as he set up education centers for pastors across the country.

That left my mother, my sister, my brother, and me to deal with the fallout from his stands. It isn’t that I thought he was wrong. I’m still very proud of him and what he tried to do. But it’s hard for children to understand when people around them treat them differently, when mothers suddenly won’t let their children play with them.

When someone becomes a parent, he or she takes on a new level of responsibility. But morally how far does that responsibility extend? Ibsen’s Stockmann saw his responsibility to the greater good of his community. Dad saw his actions as being inevitable, because he was a Christian. He was a magnificent example, despite the isolation we sometimes encountered. We did learn an invaluable lesson – you can disagree with an entire society and be right.

That was a powerful lesson for us. It’s why all of us, at different times in our lives, have stood alone and known unequivocally that we were right and everyone else we knew was wrong.

Eventually, I faced that issue with my parents. What was liberal in Mississippi in the fifties looked pretty conservative in the sixties and seventies. We disagreed on the war in Vietnam, women’s rights, gay rights, and some aspects of civil rights. I think Dad was surprised when African Americans wanted more than integration of schools.

He was not surprised when I joined a group from our Baptist college, teaming with  students from an all black college, to tutor African American students who had integrated Birmingham public schools. Our college tried to stop us, even though it was a Saturday morning activity. They claimed the right to control every activity students participated in, regardless of when it took place.

Finally, the college’s business manager approached my father and told him to make me stop. Dad told him he had never been able to stop me doing anything I wanted to, but they were welcome to try.  Our group met with the president of the college and explained what we were doing not as social activism, but as a natural extension of the teachings of Christ. It seemed unlikely the college would come out as opposed to Jesus’ teachings. The college eventually gave up, and we continued to tutor the kids.

I asked Dad to read Ibsen’s play several times, but I don’t know if he ever did. He wrote a wonderful piece about living on the boundary and having the courage of your convictions. After I divorced and came out as a lesbian, I told him I was glad he understood. I felt that my life was lived on the edge of what society approved of and I was always stretching the limits of what was acceptable. He said that wasn’t what he meant, but later I knew it was exactly what he meant.

(c) 2009 jgschenck

“¿Se vuelve uno más sabio con la edad? ¿Y si la edad y una salud precaria no dan lugar a la serenidad de la madurez?”. Estas preguntas se las hace el gran crítico literario Edward W. Said, nacido en Jerusalén en 1935 y muerto hace seis años. En su obra póstuma “Sobre el estilo tardío” (Debate), Said alude a tres edades del artista: una primera edad, que es la de un proyecto de creación o de descubrimiento de un mundo nuevo; un segundo momento, que significa la continuidad en la obra; y un momento tercero, que es en el que Said se detiene más: el último periodo de la vida o decadencia del cuerpo:”el deterioro de la salud – dice - u otros factores que, incluso en el caso de una persona joven, dejan entrever la posibilidad de un final prematuro“. El gran ensayista palestino analiza de forma más detallada este momento ya que es el que más le afectaba personalmente, aquejado como estaba de una grave enfermedad que le llevó a su final. Es esa edad tercera en la  que Said ve luces y  sombras ante lo que se ha dado en llamar el ”estilo tardío“. Las últimas obras de Ibsen, por ejemplo, recuerda Said, no transmiten precisamente serenidad; dejan entrever la imagen de un artista furioso y trastornado, provocando más ansiedad, dejando al público más perplejo y descolocado de lo que estaba antes.

Sobre la enfermedad y el arte ya escribí en Mi Siglo:  Klee y Matisse, entre tantos otros. También sobre los cuadros últimos que muchas veces resumen una vida colmada. Pero aquí Edward Said evoca nombres variados: un “Edipo en Colono” de Sófocles, por ejemplo, en donde el retrato que se hace del héroe anciano es el de un hombre que ha conseguido una santidad extraordinaria; un “Otelo” o un “Falstaff” de Verdi, obras de sus últimos años, que no rezuman un espíritu de sabia resignación, sino ” una energía renovada y casi juvenil, una apoteosis de fuerza y creatividad artística”. Por su parte, Rembrandt, Bach, Wagner, coronan en sus obras tardías una vida entera de esfuerzo, y en cambio -comenta Said - en lo que se ha llamado “el tercer período de Beethoven (las cinco últimas sonatas para piano, la Novena Sinfonía, la “Missa solemnis“, los seis útimos cuartetos para cuerda, las diecisiete bagatelas para piano), se percibe el momento en que el artista, a pesar de ser dueño absoluto de su medio, abandona la comunicación con el orden social establecido y alcanza una relación contradictoria y alienada con él”.

“El arte de Beethoven, y de las templadas regiones de la tradición – se lee en el “Doktor Faustus” de Thomas Mann -se elevó, ante los ojos asustados de sus contemporáneos, a esferas que son del exclusivo dominio de la Personalidad, de un yo aislado dolorosamente, aislado incluso del mundo sensorial por la pérdida del oído, príncipe solitario de un reino espiritual, libre de extraños testigos, incluso los más benévolamente dispuestos, cuyos pavorosos mensajes sólo por excepción y en contados momentos eran comprendidos“.

Cuando se llega a esa edad tercera, que a veces coincide con la sabiduría primera, puede alcanzarse también lo que Said comentó de Brahms en otro libro suyo, “Elaboraciones musicales“: a esa edad – dijo – “siguen existiendo el placer y la intimidad y puede lograrse, como consiguió Brahms, “la música de su música“, la música íntima que perdura cuando se han hecho todas las concesiones a la política y la economía de cualquier arte mundano“. 

A esa edad igualmente el rostro del artista se atreve a acercarse ante el espejo y el espejo le transmite en pintura lo que él no quiere ver de su rostro. El 30 de junio de 1972 Picasso pintó lo que podría considerarse su último autorretrato. El célebre ojo de Picasso permanece aquí fijo, taladrando el fin de una vida. No es una creación casual, y así lo ha reconocido Valeriano Bozal en un extraordinario ensayo, “Picasso clásico. La pintura del viejo” (“El realismo“) (Fundación Mafre). Reonocemos la consistente bóveda craneana  de Picasso, sus ojos poderosos, su nariz, los labios y el mentón, y todo ello impresiona por su “deformidad”. “El tiempo, como decrepitud física, se impone aquí en todos los ámbitos que a él pretendían escapar – dice Bozal – y que durante tantos años parecían haber escapado (…) Revela ahora lo que guardaba en su interior: pudo expulsarlo todo menos la temporalidad que en él anidaba“.

Sabiduría y edad. Seguramente lo más difícil sea ajustar en cada momento la sabiduría a la edad y ,sobre todo, aprender bien pronto en qué consiste la sabiduría.

(Imágenes:.-1.-Marcel van Eeden.-2009.-Galerie Michael Zink.-artnet/.-Giuseppe Verdi.- wfc.no.-/ 3.-Thomas Mann.-libraires. uc.edu/ Picasso.-autorretrato del 30-6-72.- Fuji Television Gallery.-Tokio)

LDI

Got a nice email from Annie Jacobs over at Showman Fabricators yesterday about their effort to add some green to this year’s LDI. “Showman Fabricators has teamed up with LDI to try to bring the issues of sustainability in our industry to the forefront,” Jacob wrote.

You can check out info on this year’s greener LDI here.

Aquila Theatre presents a Green Tour

I’ve been working on a piece for Jacob Coakley over at Stage Directions about Aquila Theatre’s upcoming touring production of Ibsen’s An Enemy of the People. I’ve spoken with both Peter Meineck, the company’s AD, as well as their Production Manager Nate Terracio. I’ve been very impressed with both of them and their honest, holistic approach to the idea of greening a touring production to the best of their ability. Look for the piece in SD soon, and keep an eye on Aquila’s tour — they might be bringing Enemy to your town. If they do, I’d check it out.

You can access the so-called poems by clicking on their titles in the right-hand column. There is also an introduction, called “*Eric Chaet.”

Tho, given
prevailing conditions
it is approximately
impossible
this collection
of so-called poems
exists—
as much as
Homer’s Iliad
or Lao Tzu’s Tao Te Ching
or Isaiah’s Book
or Dante’s Divine Comedy
or Whitman’s Leaves of Grass—
or a rock or water
or the Chinese Communist Party
or the American
Republican or Democratic Parties
or the Iranian or Russian government
or the national oil companies
of Brazil, Malaysia, or Mexico
as Somalia, Sudan, or Guinea
or BP or Shell or Exxon-Mobil
or Al-Qaeda or JPMorgan Chase
or the Bank of England
or Apple or Google or Microsoft
or various nuclear arsenals
or politically-awarded subsidies
or the cost of getting elected to represent people
who can’t afford to contribute to your campaign
even if they weren’t so furiously cynical, so fatalistic
so trapped in the herd they wrap themselves in for warmth
as light, photosynthesis, sight, as blood, bone, breath
or the place where you buy groceries, or the groceries.

Patience & perseverance
learning & practice
integrity & adaptability
refusal to accept what’s wrong
initiative & follow-thru
one life-time at a time.

I don’t find most poetry
whether ancient, modern, or contemporary
of much value to me—
but the poetry I find that is valuable
is valuable as little else is.
I hope you find these so-called poems of real value to you.
I wrote them with that intent.

///

///

Picture: U.S. Geological Survey

Although Norway is a relatively small country (4.5 million people) they have their fair share of things to be proud of.  Here’s a list of things that Norway can lay claim to…feel free to add a comment if you know of more!

Products:

• The cheese slicer – more info here
• The paper clip – more info here
• Helly Hansen outdoor clothing - originally started in Moss, Norway – more info here
• Salmon – Norwegian salmon is farmed and shipped all over the world
• Open sandwiches – less carbs but tricky to eat…  – more info here
• Oil – Norway is the 3rd largest exporter of oil in the world – more info here

People:

• Edvard Grieg – Composer (1843-1907)
• Roald Amundsen – Led the first Antartic expedition to the South Pole explorer (1872-1928)
• Roald Dahl – (Norwegian-British) Author (1916-1990)
• Thor Heyerdahl – Explorer and Archeologist (1914-2002)
• Henrik Ibsen - wrote the play Peer Gynt
• Edvard Munch – Expressionist painter – painted The Scream (1863-1944)
• a-ha – Famous Norwegian band from the 80’s  (don’t ever say that they are Swedish!)
• Vikings - these Norsemen used their longships to explore new countries (including England)

Events:

• Winter Olympics – were first held in Oslo in 1952
• Nobel Peace Prize - is presented anually in Oslo

Places:

• Fjords – Monty Python’s dead parrot pined for them.  They are awesome.
• North Norway – made famous in the UK by Joanna Lumley when she saw the Northern Lights