As promised yesterday I am going to post about the rug I made on Sunday from raw fleece and Icelandic wool but before I kick things off just a quick reminder.  There is now only one adult and child place left in either the morning or the afternoon workshop here at Clasheen on Saturday 5th December and if you want to join me this coming Saturday and learn how to make a felt vessel using a resist please email me asap. 

Now for the low down about the hearth-rug that I made on Sunday.  Basically I was trying to experiment combining raw fleece with carded wool using the ‘Heart Rug’ project in Dutch Felt as my guideline.  It was a little bit like following a cookery recipe because author Ria van Els-Dubelaar recommends using a long fibred fleece but I really wanted to experiment with the Icelandic batts which are now available from my new Etsy store!  In the rug from her book she uses merino to back the fleece and silk fabric as a stabiliser for the final layer on the back.  I decided to use my beautiful Jacobs fleece (a present from a kind neighbour), Icelandic wool for the base and a middle layer of some cotton fabric that Mehmet Girgic packaged my Turkish rug bases in, waste not want not! 

Firstly I needed to decide which colour batts to compliment the cream and dark chocolate brown fleece, I went for my favourite apple green although I did have a bit of a toss-up with turquoise as well!  The deciding factor was that I didn’t know exactly how much wool I would need and I knew I had plenty of the green but not so much of the turquoise, oh what an exact science I make of things!  Selecting which parts of the fleece I would use was fun, I had about 4 different bags with some gorgeous sections of Jacobs and some dirty dags mixed in as well.  Once my choice was made the raw wool was laid on bubblewrap with the shorn side uppermost, sections were pulled apart by hand a little and silk tops and silk hankies inserted in these gaps.  I also laid some silk around the outside edges of the fleece and then covered the whole thing with a one layer of Icelandic wool.  At this stage I lightly wet out the entire and pressed the soapy water through the wool.  Anywhere I saw the colour of the raw fleece through the green wool batts I topped up the green wool before laying my cotton on top of the bundle.  The second layer of Icelandic wool went on next and then I wet the whole package and started the felting process. 

Pictures of work in progress and completion the rug to follow tomorrow!

My grandfather came to Canada in 1905 with his father: he was 5 years old.

His father stayed for a while, came to the conclusion that it was too late for him to start over in a new country, and went back to Belgium.

My grandfather was left with a Belgian family farming in Manitoba where he was treated poorly.

He ran away when he was 10 years old.

While walking down the dirt road he eventually came across some other kids speaking a different language and they took him to their home.

He became part of their family; he worked on their farm; and he learned their language.

One day a saleman came to the farm and my grandfather heard the saleman and the farmer discussing business in another language.

My grandfather was curious and asked the farmer what language he had been speaking.

“English” said the farmer.

“Then what the hell am I speaking?“ asked my grandfather.

“Icelandic” replied the farmer.

.

note: He signed up with the Canadian Expeditionary Force on Valentine’s Day 1916 and was discharged January 18th, 1919.
His discharge papers say that he was 20 years old and 9 months in 1919, but I think he lied about his age and was really only 15 years old when he joined in 1916.

double note: at the present time there are 10 wars and 32 civil conflicts taking place: http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/world/war/index.html

triple note: I only knew my grandfather as a person who could make something come alive out of driftwood and burls.

quadruple note: if any family members are reading this … yes I still have grandpa’s discharge papers … and the framed discharge portrait with all the bells and whistles is still stored at brother #2’s place for me one day.

quintuple note: from what I remember he was actually in a trench about 5 km away from where he was born at one time during the war, but didn’t know it.

.

notes to myself #52

The burl table you store at your brother’s place eventually gets borrowed by your other brother. It’s probably for the best since I don’t think you’ll be moving back to Canada anytime soon.

November sunflower: supported by invisible puppet strings from the heavens

Now there have been spates and floods before. Weather in Scotland, or Ultima Thule, is and always has been the topic which gets most discussion year-round. It’s because of its location:

Americans in particular are amazed to learn that the Moray Firth in Scotland lies at the same latitude as Juneau, Alaska.

For the latitude of Ultima Thule, the farthest and northernmost point of habitable land, read nine degrees below the Arctic Circle, or what is euphemistically named the Northern Temperate Zone. So it’s not unreasonable to experience weather conditions which are enormously influenced by the Atlantic Ocean on one coast and the North Sea on the other.

The powerful warm Gulf Stream current maintains waters mild in Ultima Thule

For those not aware of these obscure locations in an otherwise frozen belt of Icelandic waters, GoogleEarth will happily provide up-to-the-minute and up-to-the last aerially-photographed section of the Moray Firth, Orkney and Shetland Isles and Mainland Scotland.

The River Deveron near Duff House at Banff

The fact that these new houses were built on ‘flood-plain’ in the first place is something this blogger prefers not to discuss at this point.

Abnormally high rainfall in September washed out roads in the Highlands and Scotland’s West Coast at Oban and Skye. Over a four-day period in October, rivers Don and Dee in Aberdeenshire overflowed and took out roads and bridges in Banchory, Kintore and Inverurie and claimed the life of a farmer. The Rivers Spey and the Lossie at Elgin on the Moray coast reached record high levels. The Deveron at Banff flooded golf courses, links, part of the Old Town and made the A98 coast road impassible.

One of Gen. Wade's bridges a little worse for wear

Aberdeenshire’s North Coast shares something in common with those river valleys in the glacial excavation grinding through the Mounth, the Cairngorms, and the Grampian and Ladder Hills. They have always had extremes of weather. Prophets of global warming suggested cooling temperatures for North Britain in 2005. Yet in the interim, except for the Wet Summer of 2009, Scotland has experienced record high temperatures. House building in floodplains has progressed apace. No wonder Mother Nature decided this year to rebel and balance the books.

She did something similar in the summer of 1829. It was the year of the Great Flood, or in the Northeast vernacular, The Muckle Spate o’ ‘29.

If records are to be believed, three months’ worth of rain fell in one week in August of that year, inundating crops and farmland, transporting cattle, sheep, dogs and men from their homes downstream for miles. Bridges were heavy casualties. Even those robust granite bridges built by General George Wade (1673-1748) in 1724 to withstand the weight of his marching troops and to guide his mapmakers through the wilds of Scotland on their first attempt to document the country for King George I. But two centuries have elapsed since then and road- and bridge-building has advanced a pace. Or have they?

Turra United: the fitba' pitch at Turriff, Aberdeenshire

For all our computer-generated map-making and architect-free design models of flood plains, physical geography and world climate patterns, one would think we had learned something. Last week’s freak storm suggests we haven’t.

I thought you’d like to read a brief excerpt from the vernacular poem ‘The Muckle Spate o’ ‘Twenty-nine’ by David Grant, published in 1915 by the Bon-Accord Press, Aberdeen. Its subject matter was focused on the River Dee at Strachan (pronounced Stra’an) – a mile of so from the base of the Mounth. If you need a translation, I might suggest you ask someone from the ‘old school’ and keep handy a copy of Aberdeen University Press’s Concise Scots Dictionary. Enjoy.

Giant sunflower and stone circle after three storms

It rained again today after three days of watery sun. I think she may still have time to stretch herself into the record books: as the latest-bloomer of all time to brave insane weather and still reach her goal: the Giant Sunflower of Ultima Thule. Spates be damned.

The Muckle Spate o’ ‘Twenty-Nine by David Grant
‘At Ennochie a cluckin’ hen wis sittin’ in a kist,
Baith it an’ her were sweelt awa’ afore the creatur’ wist;
We saw her passin’ near Heugh-head as canty as ye like,
Afore her ark a droonit stirk, ahint a droonit tyke,
An’ ran anent her doon the banks for half-a-mile or mair,
Observin’ that, at ilka jolt, she lookit unca scare,
As gin she said within hersel’ – ‘Faur ever am I gyaun?
I nivver saw the like o’ this in Birse nor yet in Stra’an.
Faur ever am I gyaun, bairns? Nae canny gait, I doot;
Gin I cud but get near the side, I think I wad flee oot.’
We left her near the Burn o’ Frusk, an’ speculatit lang
Gin she were carri’t to the sea afore her ark gaed wrang,
An’ may be spairt by Davie Jones to bring her cleckin’ oot,
Gin she wad rear them like a hen or like a water coot.

Nothing to say about this really.

It’s just nice packaging.

“Throw me a dream please, it’s been a dreamless sleep
For such a long time, such a long time
Sing myself awake
Watch the branches break
No one could ever take your place”

Link: MySpace

I want to marry Björk. I think she is one of the few artists that can make such explosively powerful music with such seeming ease. With just one cry, she makes all my hairs stand on end and my heart well up to the point of explosion, sating everything one could ever want in a song. I’ve been listening to a lot of her lately too. There’s too much music to listen to it overwhelms me so I procrastinate listening to the “new stuff” and I retreat back into my lovely cocoon of past music. Once I enter back into a discography like Björk’s, it’s just too hard to leave because I just don’t want to be saved from the darkness. I am a fountain of blood, in the shape of a girl. You’re the bird on the brim, hypnotized by the whirl… HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEA!!!

Anyways, here is one of my favorite favorite all time favorite favorite love love loved songs of all time. Of ALL TIME. Ok. I think I made myself clear. After the jump!

P.S. I am still working on those updates guys! Have faith! Gaaah!

Björk – Pagan Poetry

Pedalling through
The dark currents
I find
An accurate copy
A blueprint
Of the pleasure
In me

Swirling black lilies totally ripe
A secret code carved
Swirling black lilies totally ripe
A secret code carved

He offers
A handshake
Crooked
Five fingers
They form a pattern
Yet to be matched

On the surface simplicity
But the darkest pit in me
It’s pagan poetry
Pagan poetry

Morsecoding signals (signals)
They pulsate (wake me up) and wake me up
(pulsate) from my hibernating

On the surface simplicity
Swirling black lilies totally ripe
But the darkest pit in me
It’s pagan poetry
Swirling black lilies totally ripe
Pagan poetry

Swirling black lilies totally ripe
….

I love him, I love him
I love him, I love him
I love him, I love him
I love him, I love him
She loves him, she loves him

This time
She loves him, she loves him
I’m gonna keep it to myself
She loves him, she loves him
She loves him, she loves him
This time
I’m gonna keep me all to myself
She loves him, she loves him
And he makes me want to hurt myself again
She loves him, she loves him
She loves him, she loves him
And he makes me want to hurt myself again

—

MP3: Björk – Pagan Poetry

A icelandic é uma verdadeira fábrica de boa música e Sigur Rós existe para provar isso. E, é com Ágætis Byrjun, que dou ponto de partida ao primeiro post dos caras. Faixas hipnóticas, te levam a crer que, sem exageros, está sendo transportado pela música a cada nota tocada a cada som expelido para um outro nível de realidade. Com composições geralmente ultrapassando os 6 minutos, Sigur Rós, exige muito do ouvinte mas quem se entrega não se arrepende. As canções são cantadas em islandês à exceção do disco “( )”, no qual as letras (das músicas sem nome) foram escritas em “Hopelandic” (“esperancês”), um idioma que é parte inglês, parte islandês e parte fruto da imaginação do vocalista Jón.

Violoncelo utilizado para tocar guitarra, teclado transcendental, um quarteto de vozes transformando algo belo em angelical e os agudos de Jón configurando-se em um espectro de cores, assim, Sigur Rós mudou meu conceito de música e espero que mude o seu.

Álbum: Ágætis Byrjun

Ano: 1999

Destaque para:

Svefn-G-Englar

Starálfur

Flugufrelsarinn

Links:

http://rapidshare.de/files/48564375/1999_.__gaetis_Byrjun.zip.html

http://www.4shared.com/file/51203959/eb6afe2e/Sigur_Rs_-__gaetis_Byrjun_1999.html?s=1

A Shoreline Dream – Recollections of Memory

Amiina - Re Minore

Amusement Parks On Fire - Young Fight

Asobi Seksu – Transparence

Balmorhea – All Is Wild All Is Silent (Remixes)

Caspian – Tertia

Do Make Say Think – Other Truths

Epic45 - In All The Empty Houses

Giardini di Mirò – Il Fuoco

Jesu – Opiate Sun

Lady&Bird - La Ballade of Lady and Bird

Long Distance Calling – Avoid The Light

Mew – No More Stories

Múm – Sing Along To Songs You Don’t Know

Ólafur Arnalds - Found Songs

Port-Royal - Dying In Time

Portugal.The Man – The Majestic Majesty

Portugal.The Man – The Satanic Satanist

Pure Reason Revolution – Amor Vincit Omnia

Saxon Shore - It Doesn’t Matter

The Fiery Furnaces – I’m Going Away

The Radio Dept. – David

The Twilight Sad – Forget The Night Ahead

This Will Destroy You – Field Studies /  Split (Lymbyc Systym)

Yo La Tengo - Popular Songs

“The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.” ~Ludwig Wittgenstein

I was thinking of my little girl the other day and the words “mamma mín” came to me in a context which is irrelevant here. “Mamma mín” is Icelandic and means “My mom” but the direct translation does not explain the terms of endearment the words relay. Picture a little girl bringing a bouquet of daisies she has just picked to her mother, she offers her the flowers and says “Hérna mamma mín”.

I tried in my mind to translate this accurately over to English but failed. There are, obviously, words that could replace these words – “Here you are mommy dearest” might work but it does not quite replace the simplicity of “mamma mín”. The Possessive Personal Pronoun in its simplicity works as a loving remark in the mouth of the child.

When the girl grows up she will probably use those particular words much more rarely, just like she will almost seize to pick flowers for her mom. These words are precious and, in my mind at least, almost irreplaceable. In English the words “My mom” in the mouth of a child can be the expression of great pride but it doesn’t relay the same feelings  of love that the Icelandic term does.

So I started to think about language. I started to think of something Herta Müller has said about language. She claims that “Language has different eyes” and claims that different languages give different thoughts and meanings. We’ve all heard the “which comes first the hen or the egg” discussion about language. In my mind the question isn’t so much about which comes first, language or thought? than it is about the question of limitations. How is our language limiting our thoughts?

Today I juggle three languages on a daily basis to some degree. My native tongue, Icelandic, is always with me but I partially think and talk in Swedish at the same time that I struggle to write in English every day.  When I started learning Swedish 10 years ago I had a head start. I had studied Danish for years and as Icelandic and Swedish are related languages I knew some of the words too.

Icelanders almost think its “nothing” to learn Swedish because they think its so simple and so much alike our own tongue and the Danish we are taught in school. What many fail to grasp until they’ve juggled Swedish (and this surely goes for all languages) for a while is that it isn’t all that easy. Some words are the same but have different meanings and different nuances. Some words, like sjuksköterska, seem practically impossible to pronounce. But what is hardest isn’t the superficial meaning of the words or their pronunciation. After 10 years I speak Swedish more or less fluently but what still gets to me are the nuances. Words I know the meaning of have deeper meanings than I yet grasp. Concepts that were previously foreign to me have been introduced and are still being introduced to me.

Like The Swedes favorite word “Lagom” which means “average” or “just right”. It sounds simple enough, doesn’t it? Well it isn’t. Swedes love this word and use it unsparingly and it is very hard to grasp all its meanings and all its different nuances.

“How warm do you want your cocoa?”
“Lagom”.

In this case it might come down to what we’d like to think of as the Swedish National Soul. The Swedes are a very “lagom” people. Everything should be “just right”.

I’ve exposed myself to several languages. English and Danish came early, then I studied a little French and then I moved to Sweden. These different languages each provide different thoughts and I truly believe that when we study a new language it is mainly the thought behind the language that is the most difficult to grasp (which might be why I can’t remember a word of French, I never dove into the thought behind the language!). Studying irregular verbs is a hassle but learning how to think differently, that’s the true challenge. This is also why I think it’s very rude to settle in a country and never learn the language.

So are we limiting ourselves if we only speak one language? Well, yes I do think so. It’s almost like not getting to know another person, or at least getting to know them without ever putting yourself in their shoes. The Eskimo’s are said to have many words for snow but at the same time it is limited in other aspects. Are you aware what limits your language? And with “your language” I don’t just mean your mother tongue, but your particular use of that language.

I sometimes find myself in the situation where I have a thought in mind but can’t find the right word for it in any language. There is thought without language but I do think we need language to be introduced to new ways of thinking.

Don’t judge the Pirahã people for their lack of ability to count but ask yourself what their language can contribute with. Exposing yourself to new languages is like exposing yourself to new people. You always learn something new, something you didn’t know before. You always learn a new way of looking at things. It may not always vary greatly  from your own but it is guaranteed to widen your horizon and brighten your world.

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she was not posing, nor was she as angry as it appears. it is still hard to excuse such frustration in her expressions, but she was calling for her puppy as it kept leaping off farther and farther. it is interesting to learn the caring characteristics fo our nature and how it evolves through time.

Director: Olaf de Fleur
Year: 2008

Olaf de Fleur again blurs the boundaries of fact and fiction in his semi-documentary The Amazing Truth About Queen Raquela. It commences with a snapshot into Raquela’s life as a transsexual prostitute in the Philippines; she turns tricks, spends time with her family, plays with her dog (comically named Tootsie) and poses with her scary full-size replica Yoda doll. It’s an odd life and one in which she dreams of an escape to Paris.

Her first big break comes when she’s offered a job by porn site proprietor Michael (Stefan Schaefer). She becomes the website’s hottest new star and her success provides new friends and fresh opportunities. Can her dream of Parisienne walkways come true? Her journey, unsurprisingly, takes her to Iceland.

The film’s strongest characteristic is the confusion over what is real. For the most part, it seems entirely convincing as only a few scenes feel flatly acted or have jarring, unnatural dialogue. Consequently an internal questioning dialogue over what is and isn’t staged takes precedence over emotional empathy with Raquela’s often sad experiences. Occasionally that feeling is transcended – her experiences in taking an HIV test, for example – thus provoking a seasick sense of uncertainty.

Its subject matter could so easily made this an exploitative experience had the naturalistic, observational tone been overridden by an altogether cruder sense of humour. While it’s occasionally funny, the jokes arise through Raquela’s personality or the extraordinary circumstances that she finds herself in rather than simply because she’s a transsexual.

Inevitably for an apparently part-improvised semi-documentary, the story’s structure is erratic. Much of her time in Iceland is flashed through with a montage sequence, while the circumstances leading up to the film’s relatively upbeat closure are only vaguely conveyed. It’s a fair compromise in exchange for the brevity that de Fleur’s “visiomentary” genre demands.

The Amazing Truth About Queen Raquela is certainly very unique and ultimately grasps the vast majority of its objectives. An “amazing truth” it clearly isn’t, but it’s a modern fairytale tempered with the suffering, sadness and uncertain emotions of real life.

The Amazing Truth About Queen Raquela can be viewed at the Poppoli Pictures shop.

“He takes pictures for a ladyboy website… He’s clean and honest.”

Jónsi & Alex began as a Sigur Rós side project around 2003 under the name Riceboy Sleeps. On November 24, 2006, they released their first picture book with the same name as their project. One thousand hand-numbered editions were produced, and only available in Iceland. However, they released a second edition in July 2007, but it was not hand-numbered.

To spread the word of the book’s publishing, Somers and Jón held an art exhibition at Gallery Turpentine in Reykjavík, Iceland.In August 2007, they went to Arkansas to hold their first exhibit outside of Iceland. In October of the same year, they held a third exhibit at Melbourne International Arts Festival and were part of the Sequences Art Festival in Reykjavík.

The two have released two singles: “All the Big Trees” and “Daníell in the Sea.”

They also contributed the song “Happiness” to the Dark Was the Night charity compilation album produced by Aaron and Bryce Dessner of The National.  At that time, the duo were known as Riceboy Sleeps.
Their debut album Riceboy Sleeps was released in Europe on July 20, 2009

Download: Riceboy Sleeps (2009)

Web: Myspace Page, Website

Sigur Rós

Parachutes

Frakkur

Gender: Masculine
Origin: Old Norse/Swedish/Norwegian
Meaning: “sea fearer; sea expedition.”
Scan (VEE-king); Eng (VYE-king).

You must be wondering why I’d post a name like this, just last week, we were barraged in the news by a little boy named Falcon who seemingly took flight on a hot air balloon. Viking has a similar  feel, and yet, you must be asking, is this really legit?

Viking has been used as a male first name on and off in Scandinavia since the middle ages. It even boasts its own name-day in the Swedish-Finnish name-day calendar: October 19. In modern society, the term is used in reference to a particular culture and group of people who existed in Scandinavia in the early Middle Ages, however, this is a modern term and the Vikings themselves never referred to themselves as “Vikings” in a cultural sense or in reference to a distinct group of individuals. In Old Norse víkingr is a verb used to describe a sea-fearing expedition while víking is a noun that refers to someone who takes part in these expeditions. The term is found on several rune stones throughout Scandinavia. In Anglo-Saxon the word was wicing and appears in the 9th-century Anglo-Saxon poem Widsith in which it is used to refer to a pirate. Adam of Bremen also uses it to describe a pirate in his writings. The term disappeared from the English lexicon by the end of the Middle Ages and was revived in the 18th century as Viking, this time referring to a distinct group of people, culture and period in history. In modern Scandinavian languages, the term Viking is used more as a term to describe specific people within the Norse culture who went out on sea expeditions, and not necessarily a term to describe a particular culture or group of people.

Other forms of the name include the Icelandic Vikingur.

Director: Einar Thor
Year: 2008

Einar Thor’s Small Mountain (Heiðin) is very much about the contrasts between old and new; the dichotomy between new technology and the countryside’s more antiquated methods of communication , the older generation’s sense of duty versus the younger’s rich desire for reward. In spite of these conflicts – and the inspiration garnered from the story of Abraham and Isaac – Small Mountain is resolutely accessible.

Small Mountain finds great strength in simplicity. Nowhere is that more evident than the plot. It’s election day and Emil in entrusted with the task of transporting the ballet box to the airport so it can be flown to the city for official counting. His task soon encounters problems; the first due to bad weather, the second due to a freak minor road accident. To make matters worse, his estranged son Albert – an angsty, unpredictable character – is a passenger in the car sent to help him.

A scene from Small Mountain

A farcical tale full of convincingly unconventional characters, Small Mountain has the charm and mellow disposition required for ideal Sunday evening viewing. Yet beneath the feelgood exterior is a darker heart. Albert’s brooding anger threatens to overspill into violence and sexual aggression, but it’s the unjust destruction of innocence depicted in a chick wrapped in a bag and thrown to its death and a stricken lamb that lingers in the memory.

The film’s relaxed atmosphere is complimented by the photography, which combines beautiful shots of the nation’s outback with a comforting palette. As is often the case with the nation’s films, it’s almost Icelandic tourism promotion by stealth; every detail looks enticingly stunning. The visuals are backed with Danny Chang’s suitably breezy score that emphasizes the light tone.

The performances fall somewhere between being eminently likeable and efficiently unfussy, highlighted by Johann Sigurðarson’s understated performance as everyman in odd circumstances Emil.

Small Mountain’s close to 100 minute running time is a little excessive for its wonderfully understated style – interest briefly flags before the fate of the ballot box is unveiled – but it’s a minor cost in exchange for a film that offers pleasingly light entertainment with a tougher undercurrent and far more depth (even down to questioning the contemporary democratic system) than first appears evident. Perhaps it’s a little underwhelming to match the international success of Jar City or 101 Reykjavik, but it possesses more than enough warmth and national character to please festival audiences the world over.

Apparat Organ Quartet é uma banda fundada em 1999 por Jóhann Jóhannsson na Islândia e conta com a participação em peso de ícones clássicos da cultura local e toca um som eletrônico e diferente com órgãos ligados a sintetizadores, coisa bem Kraftwerk. Mesmo com todo esse tempo na ativa, o grupo nem sempre toca junto ou se reúne e só possuem um álbum lançado até hoje, hiper clássico e homônimo. Formado por Úlfur Eldjárn, Hörður Bragason, Sighvatur Ómar Kristinsson, Jóhann Jóhannsson e Arnar Geir Ómarsson o grupo é uma lenda das terras geladas e simples do norte europeu.

Aqui para download o debut Apparat Organ Quartet     Download

1 – Charlie Tango #2

Tomoko sounds like a cool person, eh!

This is so incredibly catchy!

Hafdis Huld – Tomoko

Its when the clouds hang low in the sky but not oppressively so- it feels as if they are trying to reach out their cotton candy fingers to touch you, comfort from the heavens beyond the polluted skyline. And when the rumble of thunder is heard softly in the distance and it looks as if its just about to drizzle, the sky seeps into blue to purple and gold hues; my only thought is that you too will feel the sentimentality overcoming inside of you, 2 days before you graduate from CJC.

Today I felt crabby the whole morning, even the sight of a giant bottle of galactic glitter glue (alliteration!) sitting on my table when I came up from break (haha thanks Josh) didn’t stop me from getting all snappish. But in GP at noon Sab drew me a Phail Pony that reminded me not to be pissy, and then we spent all afternoon crafting. We did our graduation box and I glass decored the windows, and after Josh came over and we did more crafting to the smell of Ikea meatballs and Regina Spektor on Hazel’s iPod over the speakers. Two days to go, but I don’t want to leave just yet.

Allur heimurinn óskýr, nema þú stendur.

Hoppípolla, Í engum stígvélum
(Jump into puddles, with no boots on)

Oh-ho ho, man I just got back from a whirlwind trip around the Pacific. You may know that I’ve spent the last year in Korea, and I recently took a vacation to Guam, stopping in Japan on the way. Needless to say the language circuits of my brain are a little fried, having switched abruptly between Korean, Japanese, and English dialect, and sometimes I’m still tempted to order coffee in Korean down at the local shop–obviously to no avail. But this has had me thinking a lot about language and what I may or may not be missing when I try to eavesdrop on that foreign-language conversation around the corner.

That’s why today’s Covers by Lovers features Icelandic ensemble Sigur Rós, a group I admire for, among other things, performing in a language other than English. This is not to say that English is a horrible language or that singing in it has somewhat invidious overtones, but I really do appreciate a band that can do so well in the English-speaking market without actually singing in English. Of course there are other foreign artists who sing in English that I really admire–Peter, Bjorn and John for one, Bjork for another–but it’s nice once in a while to experience something so closely tied to the artists’ homeland and culture–the language.

Sigur Rós’s discography shifts between Icelandic and what is commonly translated as “Hopelandic”–also known as Vonlenska, “a term used to describe the unintelligible lyrics sung by the band.” Though the non-Icelandic-speaking community often loses out on the meaning and thus full impact of the song, a little research into translations can aid in the comprehension of the tone of the song. When all else fails, there is at least one amateur artist who covers these songs in English translation, and some of these covers can be found here today.

To ease into this bilingual escapade, let’s start with one that features no language. This is a simply- but well-done cover of the instrumental part of the song Ágætis Byrjun, from the synonymous album that really helped launch them into international acclaim. It comes from youtube user Markv86, which appears to be the online alias of a member of the band “Hangover Sunday”* The cover stays pretty loyal to the original version, but as Markv86 states on the youtube page, “it’s not 100% accurate.” Oh well, I think that can be chalked up to personalization that comes with the cover territory. Check it out here:

The next song can help my fellow Americans and basically anyone not from Iceland get a little better grasp on the full effect of the music of Sigur Rós. This is a cover of Heysátan, sung in English translation by youtuber TheRoyalRey. Now I know English and Icelandic are related, but much to my chagrin, this song is not titled “Hey Satan!” in English; rather, it means “Stack of Hay,” which becomes apparent with TheRoyalRey’s translation. All in all it’s a good cover. Where the original is heavy on strings, a xylophone, and brass, TheRoyalRey recasts the song into piano and guitar parts, along with vocals. I thought it was a rather creative take on a song with non-traditional pop-music instrumentals. Enjoy it here:

The next cover is also by youtuber TheRoyalRey. It’s an English translation cover of Hoppípolla. The instrumentals again are well done–recreating Sigur Rós’s music with traditional musical instruments. This one also shows a bit of creativity on the part of the author. The video is so interesting. According to the page on youtube, it comes from an 8mm film he found in the woods. What good luck! It fosters in me a sense of resourcefulness and makes me want to create things with the discarded (or perhaps unfortunately lost) relics of another’s life. Watch it here, then go out and find something:

Our last cover today comes from youtuber Brunchman. It’s another cover of Hoppípolla, but this time sung in the original Icelandic. Though the artist appears to be a native speaker of English, it’s nice to see a tribute to an Icelandic band in Icelandic! The video is also noteworthy because it shows the process of creating the work–multi-track vocals, keyboard, and guitar. It gives one an idea of how much work can go into a hobby for the simple love of creating music. It also gives us a look at his technical skill. Brunchman apologizes because “the vocals are extremely boy-bandish” (most likely due to the amount of reverb), but I appreciate them nonetheless. The solo guitar part in the background also adds a nice touch, though it may be a bit boyband-ish as well. In any case, it’s a well-done cover that clearly took weeks to put together, and for that, I share it with you here:

Be sure to check out the originals, too!

Ágætis Byrjun video
Heysátan from the Sigur Rós movie Heima
Hoppípolla from Heima

*end note: I know I’ve said in the past that this blog would only feature amateur covers, so I was on the fence about posting the first cover by Hangover Sunday. I looked at their youtube page, which redirected me to their website and myspace page, which claims they are unsigned. Whether or not they are considered professional or amatuer, I’m going to let it slide today because I really like this cover. Judge for yourself. Also, there’s another cover of doubtful amateur status below, but I enjoyed it so I thought I’d post it anyway. Enjoy!

Gobblidigook, covered by Appledog:

There never seem to be enough hours in a day to fit in all the things that I really want to do.  Luckily my flu is now 90% over so I am starting to plough through all the paperwork and outstanding letters/emails etc. that built up over the 4 weeks while I was away from home.  My exciting news of the day however concerns the Icelandic wool that I will soon be selling from my Etsy store, I haven’t linked through this time because I need to wait until the wool arrives and get the images uploaded first!  The colours are fabulous and as well as offering different weights of the wool for sale I also intend putting some fun kits together with clear (hopefully!) instructions on how to make various different items.  The Icelandic wool is superb for structural work, bags, vessels, sculpture, light shades etc. and also could be used for warm scarves although would not be as soft as merino when worn directly against the skin.  Please let me know what you think about putting felting kits together, I was thinking along the lines of …..  beginners flat felt, simple felt vessel, felt purse, felt flower, felt necklace, felt brooch etc. and then a kit with instructions for a first nuno felt scarf using the fantastic short fibred merino I import from Filzrausch.  I would include all the raw materials including embellishments and any findings, clear but simple instructions and enough bubble wrap and resist where necessary to complete the project.  All comments gratefully received!

This Thursday is the deadline for all Clasheen Autumn Swap packages to be on their way across the globe!  If you have been one of our gang participating this time please remember to get your goddies out and then to leave a message of thanks and pictures to the Clasheen Crafty Swaps pool on Flickr as soon as you receive your own package.  If for any reason you are going to be a day or two late getting to the post PLEASE just leave a message on our message board.  Everyone understands if a delay occurs (so long as it is not every time!) and it just relieves the pressure on both ends of the swap.

Next Monday I will be taking down my felt ‘Cascade’ from Sculpture in Context so if you have not yet visited the Irish National Botanic Gardens in Dublin to view the exhibition now is your last chance.  Check out this article from the Irish Times.

Article in the Irish Times

Daniel Brühl, star of European hits Good Bye Lenin! and The Edukators, is starring in upcoming Icelandic production Kóngavegur 7 (English title: King’s Road 7). It’s hoped that Brühl’s growing fame courtesy of his work with Tarantino in Inglourious Basterds as well as Paul Greengrass’ similarly high profile The Bourne Ultimatum will help Kóngavegur 7 reach an international audience.

Daniel Brühl and Gísli Örn Garðarsson in Kóngavegur 7

Kóngavegur 7 is a comedy-drama set in a trailer trash neighbourhood. Lead character Junior returns to Iceland with more problems than Jay-Z, but his return home doesn’t exactly go according to plan.

Kóngavegur 7 is directed by Valdís Óskarsdóttir and follows 2008’s Sveitabrúðkaup (Country Wedding). Óskarsdóttir is better known as an editor and her enviable track record includes a BAFTA Award for Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and Dogme classics Festen, Mifune and Julien-Donkey Boy.

The ensemble cast from the Vesturport theatre company also includes Ingvar E. Sigurðsson (Jar City), Nína Dögg Filippusdóttir (The Sea) and Gísli Örn Garðarsson (pictured above with Brühl).

A Mystery Island production, the shooting of Kóngavegur 7 is expected to be completed in a fortnight’s time.

More info can be found here.

I have conflicting feelings about language standards and change.  on the one hand, I can’t help but wince when I hear unconventional or “incorrect” use of a language, particularly my own.  that’s not to say that I don’t make mistakes, or that I don’t even always know what’s correct (though I’m trying), but some speakers just do physical violence to your ears.  for instance, I am not much of a fan of any dialects that collapse our not-that-complex verbal inflection, whether not distinguishing between singular or plural (I go, he go, we go) or doing away with any auxiliary verbs (what you say? for what did you say?), not to mention swapping verbal forms and creating entirely new auxiliaries (we done went to the store). (though this last one is actually quite charming.)

on the other hand, I don’t pretend for one minute that a language is anything but fluid and constantly changing. (I particularly love that patently Germanic feature of English that allows for the growth of new words through initial hyphenation and eventual integration of words, e.g., inasmuchas).  languages are living things, and though they often change in predictable patterns based on the physical limitations of speech and hearing — and they usually head in the direction of being simpler, more regular — you never quite know where a language will go.  anyone who pretends that contemporary language changes are corrupting a hitherto unchanging way of speaking or doing grammar cannot have any real clue about the history of that language, not to mention the ways in which languages change in general.  all of them.  plus, those “ungrammatical” quirks are usually quite regular, which makes them, in linguistic terms at least, grammatical.

so should I be so upset about failures to inflect in English today?  after all, Old English inflected for gender, as did the Norman French that so dramatically transformed the mother tongue, but we don’t sit around bemoaning this fact, do we?  and as for a failure to differentiate a singular or plural verb, some languages today have already lost this distinction and are doing just fine (by me, anyway).  Swedish, for instance, no longer inflects for number, though its predecessor, Old Norse, did.  does it really matter that we still distinguish the third person singular, saying I go but he goes?  why not officially do away with it, then?

chances are that irregular features of the language will continue to drop off over time.  in fact, the relative stability of the spoken language over the past half a millennium is somewhat astounding, and must owe its success to the roles that printing and literacy have held in the last few centuries.  whereas literary languages, especially when in the tight control of an elite group, such as scribes or priests, are more than capable of remaining fixed over longer periods of time, spoken languages go through dramatic changes unless the speakers are relatively isolated, or their communities insulated.  Icelandic is a great example, which has maintained an impressive stability over the centuries (due also in part to a “purism” movement in the 18th century designed at bolstering the language and removing too many foreign words).  in fact, if you want to learn Old Norse, some linguists suggest that you just learn modern Icelandic and then go from there.

in any age you can find a number of stuffy old farts bah, humbug!ing the decline and corruption of the language.  but then you realize that were it not for this ongoing flexibility and creativity of the language (and its speakers), we would never have arrived at some of the literary giants of this past century, whose inventiveness and linguistic borrowings are what excite me so much about language!  (think here of James Joyce, or more contemporary writers like Salman Rushdie or Junot Diaz).

nevertheless, I can’t help but feel somewhat anxious about the idea of too much change coming too fast.  fortunately, with so many people speaking English today — especially those estimated 1.4 billion people learning it as a second language — there isn’t much tolerance for every single regional or cultural dialect and peculiar feature.  no one has the patience to learn anything but the most normative, widespread version.  the cumulative result is that it takes a significant influence to introduce non-kosher changes throughout the entire web of speakers.

however, this same large body of native speakers and non-native learners will also likely contribute to the “flattening” of the language in terms of making it more regular.  when children are learning a language, they have a fantastic innate ability to create the grammar of the language they are learning based on what they hear, and their tendency is to establish regular, predictable patterns.  this is why they will always add “-ed” to make a verb past tense unless taught otherwise.  and linguists have shown that we have to create entirely new entries in our “mental dictionary” for irregular forms of a verb, such as “went” instead of “goed.”  would we really be so much worse off if the latter were adopted as the normative form?  though I have to wonder what the chances of this happening naturally are given the fact that even in Old English there were already three different verbs making up the paradigm for expressing the idea of “to be.”  so this irregularity has proved rather regular over the past millennium or so.

in the end, I have to stay open minded and flexible about language variants and change — especially when it comes to written grammatical norms (e.g., punctuation standards), which seem to be changing faster than anything else — and enjoy the quirks and convoluted history of this language, at least at a safe distance in literature and poetry.  and though I don’t count on seeing any major changes happening in my lifetime, I fully expect our language to continue to interact with other major world languages as we (hopefully) increase our cultural, political, and economic ties with other nations.  and I fully expect — and welcome! — the inevitable overlappings and sharings between English and the Spanish of Latin America as we reimagine a shared “American” (North, Central, and South) identity.

So Fangavaktin starts in Iceland tonight and guess what? Being based in the UK I’m stuck with the somewhat underwhelming selection of X Factor, Xtra Factor, Harper’s Island, repeats of Family Guy and some romantic comedy starring Patrick Swayze.

So any reviews, opinions or general discussion on the new series would be more than welcome…

loving the outfit, missy! an early trendsetter outside hringbraut.

So, through sheer clumsiness I missed the short film abt my block of flats. It will probably be shown on tv though, so it’s all good.

This morning I received an email from the lady who runs the house owner co-op (thanks for the vocab help, Joe) of which I am a reluctant member, informing me/us of a blog entry (in Icelandic) abt these blocks of flats, or rather the blogger’s personal memories of living here. Here it is, and it’s very nice and informative. I found out that there were specialised shops everywhere around here, as was the fashion in the old days, I s’pose; one shop sold dairy products exclusively, another one meat, yet another fish, and then there was the bakery, and so on.

Most fascinating and nice, I think, is the fact that the Rvk library had a branch right here on the 2nd floor, above the mean lady’s bakery. Nice, right? Easy access to literature and education. I like it. Except for the fact that the library lady was really mean, too. The bakery and library ladies hated children, according to the blogger. The first one hissed at them, and the latter would only let them check out one book at a time, which was inconvenient for the eager weekend reader. Not so nice.

In the blog’s comment section I found links to a picture page with some old photos of the buildings and its people, and some from a reunion of people who grew up here. Here: old pics / new pics.

As I have said before, most foreign folk (and some silly locals) are less than impressed with buildings which we, Icelanders, hold dear, and find cool. Like my building. It’s considered cool by most, or at least by my generation. This is bc of (1) its history, (2) the grey, simple, square, kinda squalid and dreary looking architecture typical of a certain era, and (3) bc of the ingenious interior architecture which makes perfect use of the small space provided.

Continuing on, the building is built in a square, leaving a nice splice of land in the middle, which is part private gardens, and part public park owned and maintained by the city of Rvk. This is called port, from the Danish (French?) word for enclosed space, with or without roof. Some people who lived here in the early days refer to themselves using some form or other of the word port. (unrelated FIY: portkona is an Icelandic word borrowed from Danish, meaning prostitute, lit.: port woman, woman who is in or operates in a ‘port’. I do not suppose that women who lived here use this term, unless they are actual prossies).

So that’s that. I am sillily in love with my flat, bc it’s got soul, you know. Character. I fall quite hard for inanimate objects … though, is a flat with soul & character really inanimate? Hmmm.

Finally: Thank you Héðinn Valdimarsson for fighting for the flats to be built, and thank you Guðjón Samúelsson for your super design of my flat.

A statue of Héðinn is riiiiiiiight near my flat (kinda odd looking for the way the sculptor cuts off the man’s legs abruptly); it features in the below ad for Thule beer. (Relevant FYI: just watch all the Thule ads, they’re brill. The ones in English with the two guys in the pub are a terrific spot-on mockery of the Icelandic inferiority complex evidenced by ‘our’ yearning, and quite a few claims, to be best at all things.)