Sashiko is a Japanese embroidery technique to decoratively repair and strengthen old clothes. I had written a Turtlestitch program to stitch a spider’s web to hold fabric together.
I started by measuring some stabilising material to slip inside the curtain.The torn curtain material with stabilising material inserted and held in place with a few hand stitches.Sellotape added to help the embroidery machine frame hold the curtain material as I tried to make the embroidery reach the edge.Now clamped into an embroidery frame.Begin stitching the spider’s web.Halfway through the radial threads.Almost completed the ‘rungs’.Finished!Hanging in the window.
From beginning to end around an hour’s work one morning – having had the code already written and just adapted it to make a 180 degree web rather than a full circle.
Now I can relax, knowing I am unlikely to make that tear worse!
Your reality and my reality naturally differ through our lived experience and cultural heritage. This doesn’t mean we don’t share realities – the sun also rises. The imperative is get to know others’ perspectives and to build shared realities, specifically where they practically matter to improve our lives.
I said that.
“I’ll let you be in my dreams, if I can be in yours”
So this became the theme for my birthday party, held on 17 December 2023, in the Essex Arms pub in Brentwood, in part inspired by events in the Middle East and in part by the rejuvenating conversations at Congregation and my blog entry which is the admission criteria.
I wanted to celebrate the positive idea of ‘one world – multiple realities’ against a backdrop of war and killing, trying to deal with the misery, by tackling it straight on with appeals for understanding, recognition and peace. And a little love.
My friend Derek Kortlandt devised a fiendish quiz to help break the ice, which was ‘open book’ in the sense of encouraging internet search and collaboration. I will update this post to give the answers on New Years Day 2024.
My 40 or so guests were mostly living in Brentwood, Essex, with a few online from France, Ireland and Basildon(!), but the big surprise was the range of 26 cultural heritages represented amongst those invited: Australia, Canada, China, Czechia, Denmark, El Salvador, France, Germany, Hungary, India, Ireland, Italy, Japan, The Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway, Paraguy, Portugal, Russia, Scotland, The Solomon Islands, Thailand, USA, Venezuala, Wales, Zimbabwe.
I asked my guests to read a poem, sing a song or tell a story on that theme. Here is a selection of them, not necessarily in the order they were performed!
Heidi, assisted by Sue and Keiko, invited us, in groups, to sing a simple canon in German often sung at birthdays. Here are the English words.
It takes little to be happy
It takes little to be happy, and he who is happy is a king!
Eric, as well as entertaining us on the saxophone, read the following poem, saying afterwards:
“Delivering the poem made me feel good in the sense that I was doing something (a very small something) in the way of putting a wrong to right.”
White comedy
I waz whitemailed By a white witch, Wid white magic An white lies, Branded by a white sheep I slaved as a whitesmith Near a white spot Where I suffered whitewater fever. Whitelisted as a whiteleg I waz in de white book As a master of white art, It waz like white death.
People called me white jack Some hailed me as a white wog, So I joined de white watch Trained as a white guard Lived off the white economy. Caught and beaten by de whiteshirts I waz condemned to a white mass, Don’t worry, I shall be writing to de Black House.
Razia read this, written by a famous Bengali polymath and Nobel prize winner.
Where The Mind Is Without Fear
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high Where knowledge is free Where the world has not been broken up into fragments By narrow domestic walls Where words come out from the depth of truth Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit Where the mind is led forward by thee Into ever-widening thought and action Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.
I read a pair of poems, one by a Palestinian poet who was killed only recently in the Gaza strip and another by an Israeli poet which satisfied me as a Mathematician, despite its topic.
If I must die
If I must die, you must live to tell my story to sell my things to buy a piece of cloth and some strings, (make it white with a long tail) so that a child, somewhere in Gaza while looking heaven in the eye awaiting his dad who left in a blaze– and bid no one farewell not even to his flesh not even to himself– sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up above and thinks for a moment an angel is there bringing back love
The diameter of the bomb was thirty centimetres and the diameter of its effective range about seven metres, with four dead and eleven wounded. And around these in a larger circle of pain and time, two hospitals are scattered and one graveyard. But the young woman who was buried in the city she came from at a distance of more than a hundred kilometres, enlarges the circle considerably and the solitary man mourning her death at the distant shores of a country far across the sea includes the entire world in the circle. And I won’t even mention the crying of orphans that reaches up to the throne of God and beyond, making a circle with no end and no God.
Katherine sang us the Venezuelan national anthem, after thanking the UK for accepting her and her family here.
Gloria al Bravo Pueblo
Chorus: Glory to the brave people who shook off the yoke, The law respecting, virtue and honour.
I “Down with chains!” Shouted the Lord; And the poor man in his hovel For Freedom implored. Upon this holy name Trembled in great dread The vile selfishness That had once prevailed. Upon this holy name Trembled in great dread The vile selfishness That had once prevailed.
Chorus
II Let’s scream out aloud: “Death to oppression!” Oh, loyal countrymen: Strength is unity; And from the Empyrean The Supreme Author A sublime spirit To the people blew; And from the Empyrean The Supreme Author A sublime spirit To the people blew.
Chorus
III United by bonds That Heaven has formed, The entire America Exists as a Nation; And if ever despotism Raises again its voice, Then follow the example That Caracas gave; And if ever despotism Raises again its voice, Then follow the example That Caracas gave.
Fran explained to me that she would usually read poetry to herself, all alone, but out-loud, and that it was cathartic for her.
Amazing Peace
Thunder rumbles in the mountain passes And lightning rattles the eaves of our houses. Flood waters await us in our avenues.
Snow falls upon snow, falls upon snow to avalanche Over unprotected villages. The sky slips low and grey and threatening.
We question ourselves. What have we done to so affront nature? We worry God. Are you there? Are you there really? Does the covenant you made with us still hold?
Into this climate of fear and apprehension, Christmas enters, Streaming lights of joy, ringing bells of hope And singing carols of forgiveness high up in the bright air. The world is encouraged to come away from rancor, Come the way of friendship.
It is the Glad Season. Thunder ebbs to silence and lightning sleeps quietly in the corner. Flood waters recede into memory. Snow becomes a yielding cushion to aid us As we make our way to higher ground.
Hope is born again in the faces of children It rides on the shoulders of our aged as they walk into their sunsets. Hope spreads around the earth. Brightening all things, Even hate which crouches breeding in dark corridors.
In our joy, we think we hear a whisper. At first it is too soft. Then only half heard. We listen carefully as it gathers strength. We hear a sweetness. The word is Peace. It is loud now. It is louder. Louder than the explosion of bombs.
We tremble at the sound. We are thrilled by its presence. It is what we have hungered for. Not just the absence of war. But, true Peace. A harmony of spirit, a comfort of courtesies. Security for our beloveds and their beloveds.
We clap hands and welcome the Peace of Christmas. We beckon this good season to wait a while with us. We, Baptist and Buddhist, Methodist and Muslim, say come. Peace. Come and fill us and our world with your majesty. We, the Jew and the Jainist, the Catholic and the Confucian, Implore you, to stay a while with us. So we may learn by your shimmering light How to look beyond complexion and see community.
It is Christmas time, a halting of hate time.
On this platform of peace, we can create a language To translate ourselves to ourselves and to each other.
At this Holy Instant, we celebrate the Birth of Jesus Christ Into the great religions of the world. We jubilate the precious advent of trust. We shout with glorious tongues at the coming of hope. All the earth’s tribes loosen their voices To celebrate the promise of Peace.
We, Angels and Mortal’s, Believers and Non-Believers, Look heavenward and speak the word aloud. Peace. We look at our world and speak the word aloud. Peace. We look at each other, then into ourselves And we say without shyness or apology or hesitation.
Peace, My Brother. Peace, My Sister. Peace, My Soul.
May the merit you donate be returned a hundred thousand fold.
Tom read this well known prose-poem, well worth listening to again.
Desiderata – Words for Life
Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
Mary from County Cork, Ireland, but soon to be in New York for Christmas, told me in discussion later: “one needs to abandon anchors altogether and embrace the drift of the world because anchors are only an illusion. I know it seems like terror and loss, but in my reading of [the poem] (maybe wrongly!) the terror and loss are also part of the illusion and a normal part of life, since we can’t help but get attached to things in this constantly-drifting sea of life.”
The World
I thought you were an anchor in the drift of the world; but no: there isn’t an anchor anywhere. There isn’t an anchor in the drift of the world. Oh no. I thought you were. Oh no. The drift of the world.
I brought our readings to a close with this slightly more hopeful, albeit fanciful, poem by my favourite author (well, one of them…).
Torn Map
Once, by mistake, she tore a map in half. She taped it back, but crookedly. Now all the roads ended in water. There were mountains right next to her hometown. Wouldn’t it be nice if that were true? I’d tear a map and be right next to you.
Wishing all my readers a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
PS
At the party I mentioned my admiration for Hannah Arendt’s simple prophylactic advice to reverse the tide of totalitarianism, as told by Lyndsey Stonebridge:
“participatory democracy as small as it gets”.
In 2024, I hope to persuade my friends (local and online) to watch together the ‘Hannah Arendt‘ film biography by von Trotta and to then read & discuss the new book ‘We Are Free to Change the World‘ by Lyndsey Stonebridge in our local Labour Party Socialist Book club – perhaps back in the Essex Arms?
A somewhat stereotypical seasonal response to the dropping temperatures and clock changing back last night!
I do hope the central heating engineers out there are raking it in right now, but I am sorry to say, not from me.
Like my late father, I am perhaps too careful with my money despite being able to afford a call out. But for me, it is an opportunity and incentive to experiment with home automation.
I looked at the price of smart controls and blanched. Maybe instead I could replace the aged thermostat with a smart plug? I had to do some considered thinking about how that would work, and paused for a couple of days to do a little online research and devise a solution before deciding I could go for it.
The smart speakers I have are Echo Dot 5s, which can measure room temperature. I planned to write Alexa ‘routines’ to respond to changes (up or down) and do the timing too, so that it is not on overnight. A simple kind of programming, but interesting to think about as it means setting up a feedback-loop to operate at certain times only.
All I needed to do is understand how the thermostat was wired, and instead of the temperature alone switching the boiler heating on, I could perhaps replace it with essentially a home made programmable relay to do the work of thermostat and timer?
The inner workings of the thermostat are simple enough, but I had to think out loud all the connections and label them up before I went further (John Davitt would be proud).
Of course I had already turned off the boiler in the consumer unit and at it’s fused spur outlet for double safety.
The trick was to take the ‘switched’ wire, which needed to be live when the new ‘thermostat/timer’ called for heating, and wire it into an ordinary plug which then is inserted into the smart socket, which can switch it on and off.
Here is the final wiring. Note that the plug needs no neutral connection(!), hence the earth sleeving to indicate that the blue wire was used for earth (for safety) in the lamp flex I used:
And after screwing it all together and plugging it in where the thermostat used to be:
I was pleased to be able to recycle an old plug and especially an old switched socket from my store in the garage, so if anything goes wrong with the smart socket, I can take it out of the equation, plug in the plug and still control the heating manually with the switch on the old socket.
Finally I had to write two routines for Alexa to respond to temperature change and, for now, notify me it has done so, to check it is working. These are simple to make in the Alexa app on my iPhone. Ziggy is the name for my bedroom Echo Dot 5, which I decided to use to monitor my small flat’s temperature. In the living room, I have an Eco Flex, currently on sale at less than £5 on Amazon, which is an amazing bargain! Sadly it has no thermometer function, but it does play music on my hifi and let me control the lights and the rest of the house.
Here are the two routines:
first, ‘Turn on heating’ to turn on the smart socket when the temperature is below 17C, within a specified time period;
second ‘Turn off heating’ to turn off the smart socket when it is above 18C – at any time. By saying ‘Alexa disable turn on heating’ as I leave the house, I can ensure I am not wasting energy when away.
No, this not a term of endearment for my son Sasha, not another Russian diminutive of the name Alexander – here are those:
Alexander– used at work, in official circumstances, or by people he doesn’t know
Sasha – used by his friends and family. An alternative diminutive is Shura
Sashenka – used as a form of affection by members of his family
Sashulya – used very affectionately, probably by his girlfriend
Sashka – used very informally by family and friends, but is impolite if used by a stranger
No, this is Sashiko, a four hundred year old Japanese cultural concept, of a craft that revives old clothes or makes them stronger and warmer.
I have this old cotton shirt. The fabric is thin and worn and torn slightly near the breast pocket. I wanted to repair it based on the values and ideas of the Japanese craft of Sashiko.
I made a digital embroidery design, rather like a spider’s web, by writing a program using Turtlestitch, hoping it would strengthen the fabric and prevent the tear from spreading. So far so good – you can see the results in the photograph above – the hole was made bigger by the process, but I think more secure – we’ll see!
I also have a knitted cotton jersey, which I had torn lying down in a plane and catching it in the seat frame, doh!
The fabric is much stretchier, and with the experience of the first repair enlarging the hole, I thought I would try to stabilise the fabric on both sides with washable backing.
To further improve the stability, I chose to make some flour and water glue (with again the intent to wash it away afterwards) and stuck the jersey to the backing before mounting it in the embroidery frame:
The flour and water glue placed on the jersey
Now with the washable backing
Ready to go!
I had to wait overnight for the glue to fully dry and then the fun began:
Stitching the web
The end result before removal and washing
After washing away the backing and glue.
The result should stop the jersey from unravelling, but either way I am pleased with the process and the outcome!
I was unsettled by the amount of trigonometry and list processing I had to use in my first spider web solution, so spent some time while waiting for the glue to dry making a simpler program for the jersey spider’s web, that relied on Turtle Geometry only.
This confinement to Turtle Geometry – move and turn commands from the perspective of an imaginary turtle-like robot – means that when trying to fix or improve the program, one has recourse to bodily movement (imagined or real) to figure out what the program is doing. Seymour Papert, one of the inventors of Logo, on which Turtlestitch is based, called this ‘body-syntonic’.
This has been a focus for my inquiry over several years and I have blogged before about it:
Sunset around 9pm, from Reed’s lookout in Gariwerd / Grampian National Park, Victoria, Australia
TL;DR
A month in Australia at Christmas 2022. I flew to see my first grandson in Sydney, Australia, spent Christmas with family, visited Canberra, met old friends in Newcastle and Melbourne, made a pilgrimage to Gariwerd and learnt about Country and First Nations.
South eastern Australia: places that I visited
REWIND: Tuesday 2 August 2022 – My first son’s first son is born.
Ever since that moment, I started planning my visit to Sydney, Australia to meet my new grandson. Happily, I was able to go at Christmas, and could get away for a month. I found a low cost Business Class ticket leaving from Dublin to Melbourne on 20 December which would allow me to be there in time.
And so it began.
Tuesday 20 December – party in Brentwood, party in Dublin and fly business class to Abu Dhabi
After my birthday party on Sunday 18 in Brentwood with friends & family, and another in Dublin on Monday 19 with real friends & colleagues, I am ready and well prepared to leave on the 08:45 to Abu Dhabi on Tuesday 20.
Business class, including massage!
Lie down seats, a free night’s stay in Abu Dhabi, and the use of the Etihad business lounge allowed me to do most of the jet-lag adjustment in the journey. I was surprised how business class made all the queuing non-existent and the transitions short, and this made the whole experience relaxed & effective. Not to mention many nice meals, kicking off with a Campari, roasted nuts and a massage!
Wednesday 21 December – over the Indian Ocean
I slept most of the second leg from Abu Dhabi to Melbourne, as this closely matched Eastern Australian night time.
Lying down
The lighting, of white stars on a blue background was delightful, but distracting, as no recognisable constellation could be identified!
Thursday 22 December – arrive in Melbourne, then Sydney to meet him
I landed in Melbourne at 6am, got off the plane quickly, collected my bags and was through immigration with hardly a pause. I persuaded Jetstar to let me on the 7:05am flight, so barely had time for a coffee before I was heading on to Sydney.
I was met by my son at the airport, who took me on the short drive to his home in an urban inner city district rather like Brixton or Camden Town is in London.
And there he was – the gorgeous boy!
Thus began two weeks of a wonderful, sunny respite, made up of Christmas and New Year with my family in Sydney. Although for me it was the surreal height of summer, I felt happily indulged in the season’s pleasures of eating, drinking, walking, sleeping, reading books and excellent company.
But I also saw some sights.
Friday 23 December – Sydney and the Opera House
I took the train to central Sydney with my son, saw the Queen Victoria Building, bought some summer clothes in Myers, visited Dymocks book shop and then we walked on to the Opera House.
There were many childhood ambitions to fulfil in travelling to Australia for the first time, and a big one, seeing the Sydney Opera House, did not disappoint. The competition to design it was launched in the year of my birth and its completion in 1973 was also in my first year as an undergraduate at King’s College London. Modern architecture was a thing for me in school and remains so. Throughout my undergraduate years I marvelled at the new National Theatre being constructed across the River Thames from the university.
I found the Opera House exceeded my expectations as an architectural spectacle, with its vaulting interlocking beauty but also the geometrical detail and engineering. I filled my phone with images at all angles and marvelled at the ceramic ’skin’ and glass curtains.
Sydney Opera House detail
Saturday 24 December – a walk in the park
In the morning I went for a walk to Sydney Park, south of Newtown. A pleasurable stroll through the suburban streets but a hot day, so keeping myself in the shade of trees wherever I could through Erskineville and returning up King Street through to Newtown.
When I stopped for a ‘Good Root’ drink at the Sydney Park Kiosk, I sent this message:
Text message exchange with my son
Little did I know that the name of the drink was Australian slang for sexual intercourse, as well as a lovely combination of beetroot, ginger, carrot and celery.
In the evening, my daughter-in-law’s parents came over after collecting her sister, from the airport and join us for a Christmas Eve meal.
Sunday 25 December – Christmas Day with the family
Christmas Day (and night) we gathered at the in-law’s house in Northbridge, enjoying lovely sea food and an amazing Pavlova.
Pavlova cooks
We exchanged gifts – I got lovely Australian cooking ingredients, sweets, books and drinks from all the family slightly to my embarrassment (but immense pleasure) as I had thought that the Secret Santa was the thing – I’ll know better next time. My Secret Santa was chosen by my son’s mother-in-law – ‘Songlines: The Power and Promise’ by Margo Neale & Lynne Kelly. My son gave me ‘Dark Emu’ by Bruce Pascoe – more about both books later.
Monday 26 December – Boxing Day and a walk around Northbridge
A quiet day, as ever, eating delicious leftovers and taking it easy.
Before lunch, we went for a walk through the woods near Northbridge to nearby Tunk’s Park boat ramp, spotting bush Turkeys and Kookaburras on the way and Pelicans in the water.
Pelicans at Tunk’s Park boat ramp, Northbridge, Sydney
We made our way made our way back through Tunk’s Park and Flat Rock Creek, but without my daughter-in-law’s mother who sadly hurt her knee on the descent to the boat ramp and got a lift home from daughter-in-law acting as an ambulance driver!
Tuesday 27 December – walking, reading, debating and drinking in Newtown
Back at my on’s house, in the morning I went for a walk with him and grandson to a local park, but then started reading. My daughter-in-law’s mother , on giving me the Songlines book, encouraged me to start by reading a book that my son had on his shelf: ’Welcome to Country: A Travel Guide to Indigenous Australia’ by Marcia Langton.
I began reading it and realised that my new real interest (after being with family) in coming to Australia was discovering First Nations people, culture and history, not the rather comfy middle-class interest in colourful indigenous art I had planned, although that enthusiasm persisted and was well-served. Politics had replaced art in my mind, although as I discovered, there were close links.
‘Welcome to Country’ carefully and neutrally offered a fascinating description of Australia’s First Nations and then continued, state-by-state to propose the experiences to be found in each to engage with them.
I didn’t finish it at one sitting, but it was only the offer of drink which stopped me! That evening my son invited me for a drink in the ‘Courty‘ – Courthouse Pub and we enjoyed a Newtown IPA and discussed the state of socialist jargon at length!
The actual Courthouse in Newtown, Sydney, (not the Courty round the corner!)
On the way back we stopped in King Street to have a drink in ‘Odd Culture’ – I had a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon – Brash Higgins CBSV Cabernet Sauvignon, McLaren Vale, South Australia – which was rich and delicious.
I had travelled to Australia to meet my grandson, but as much happiness was obtained in spending such relaxed time with my son and also getting to know my daughter-in-law and her family better.
Wednesday 28 December – Northbridge to relax and swim
I finished the ‘Welcome to Country’ book on a lazy day, when mostly, my grandson went swimming in the in-law’s pool!
Thursday 29 December – Royal Botanic Garden, First Nations guided tour and Yiribana gallery at the Art Gallery of New South Wales
I started reading the ‘Songlines’ book in the morning.
With the family, I visited the Royal Botanic Garden so that I could enjoy a guided First Nations tour which vividly described the encounter with the First Fleet, which consisted of eleven ships bringing the first settlers from Europe and Africa. There were two female guides, both of Aboriginal heritage. The first was strict with a would be photographer, assertive but humorous in tone!
Afterwards I rejoined the others to walk through the gardens, revisiting the scene of their Covid-delayed wedding in October 2021.
I only managed to enjoy the Yiribana Gallery, one of the world’s largest collections of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander art, before we left for home, but that was because it was so enthralling and deserved all the time I had.
This one example introduced me to something that really excited me, but I discovered was not uncommon in First Nations art: a collaborative work that was painted for real purpose: to argue for land title.
The caption said:
“Men at Tjuntjuntjara, Western Australia, began creating collaborative paintings in 1997 as part of a native title documentation process, with the works being formally included in the preamble to the successful Spinifex native title claim of November 2000. “
This work depicts the tjukurpa [dreaming] of the Wati Kutjara as it relates to Spinifex Country. Wati Kutjara are two men, the first beings, whose actions shaped and continue to inform connections to Country. Artists: Fred Grant, b1943, Ned Grant, b1941, Simon Hogan, born c1930, Lawrence Pennington, b1934, Patju Presley, b1945, Wati Kutjara 2019 all of Pitjantjatjara, Southern Desert region, Australia.
Friday 30 December – Museum of Sydney and Thai dinner
The Museum of Sydney
I went alone to visit the Museum of Sydney with its huge Australian Aboriginal flag, and had a wander through the centre. The Museum wasn’t huge, but had a very informative display with models of all eleven boats in the First Fleet, with explanations of which one carried what.
I also sat and watched a ‘First Australians’ film which explained the local Gadigal people’s encounter with the First Fleet and the story of Englishman, Governor Phillip, and the kidnapped warrior Bennelong.
I then found the General Post Office on Martin Place and wrote postcards to send to family and friends before setting off to join the others for a lovely meal at the Thai Pothong Restaurant in King Street, Newtown.
Saturday 31 December – New Year’s Eve in Northbridge
We met up again in Northbridge at the in-law’s house to celebrate New Year’s Eve and stayed the night. I enjoyed watching the fireworks on TV!
A day for continuing to read the Songlines book.
Sunday 1 January – New Year’s Day and a walk around Northbridge
More reading, and a walk with daugher-in-law’s dad (grandad – I’m grandpa!) to see the surroundings of Northbridge, some bush and sea inlets, some urban streets and a chance to compare house architectures. Excellent company.
Grandad overlooking Willoughby Bay
Monday 2 January – Fish & Chips in Kirribili
Another day for reading, but an appointment with all the family for fish & chips under the harbour bridge on the north side allows me to take a train and then the ferry to Kirribili.
Daughter-in-law, grandson and sister under the Sydney Harbour Bridge.
As we sit eating, my son sets up his camera to capture a time-lapse of the departure of the cruise liner ‘Celebrity Eclipse’.
Tuesday 3 January – Reading and DIY
A quiet day for more reading.
My son invites my help to erect a triangular sail to give shade in his backyard, so we make a trip to Bunnings, the Australian B&Q.
Bunnings sell security cameras, so we had to play.
Wednesday 4 January – the Blue Mountains on a road trip to Canberra
My son kindly takes me on a trip to Canberra, and we start early to catch the morning light in the Blue Mountains.
My son taking photographs with his Tachihara 5×4 camera at the Wentworth falls lookout.
It’s a long drive, and I am surprised by the lack of garages or shops on the road, which is mostly through farming country – where does anyone get petrol?!
Into Canberra, we had a Japanese meal and were a little surprised by the parade of hot-rods that had gathered in town.
Thursday 5 January – Canberra
A tasty breakfast at the Local Press Café, Kingston before then visiting the the Museum of Australian Democracy at Old Parliament House. We walked through the Prime Minister’s suite of offices and watched a video of recent prime ministers talking about each other. We sat in the House of Representatives chamber before looking through the Democracy DNA exhibition.
I was impressed with the paintings forming the ‘Statement: Jack Green’s Paintings‘, a series which made clear the impact of the mining industry on his Country, culture and community, which was recognised by a committee of inquiry into land title.
I was also moved by the exhibition on Equal Rights, and particularly the speech in parliament by Tim Wilson in December 2017 in the run up to legalising same sex marriage. At the end he proposed to his boyfriend, listening in the gallery.
The Aboriginal Memorial in the National Gallery of Australia.
We then went for lunch at the National Museum. I noticed a tour, so went to buy a ticket, and found I was the only person on it.
Jake was my guide, a friendly student at the Australian National University studying international relations. He enthusiastically lead me round the exhibits, particularly in their depiction of the First Nations people and their terrible treatment by colonialists. Notably he showed me the braille messages secretly applied to the outside of the building by the architect, and showed me where they read “sorry” and “forgive us our genocide”.
Jake, my First Nations exhibition guide, pointing at the overpainted Braille ‘sorry’.
Jake also told me about the building design of the First Nations section of the museum, which was claimed by the architect, Raggatt, to be a ‘quotation’ of the design of the Jewish Museum in Berlin by Daniel Liebeskind, causing some controversy through its implication of a link to the Jewish holocaust.
Before leaving Canberra, my son drove us up to Mount Ainslie lookout to have the view over the city.
Friday 6 January – reading
I finished Songlines – a fabulous book, and although I found some of its propositions difficult, the overall effect is that it explains a ‘Theatre of Memory’ model of knowledge in Aboriginal minds, that links country & fable with practical matters of food & water sources. (In 1990, when just started with Ultralab, I had helped produce a multimedia CD-ROM on this topic by Graham Howard’s Art of Memory company as part of the Apple funded Renaissance Project.)
It was a rich and enjoyable read, even if it occasionally overstepped a credibility mark.
So I started to read ‘Dark Emu’ by Bruce Pascoe that my son had given me. This book quotes from the unexpurgated accounts of Aboriginal life, that early colonisers’ wrote at the time, in order to to counter the primitive ‘hunter gatherer’ classification of Aboriginal people. The idea that Australia was ‘Terra nullius’, and thus no robbery took place, relies on a view that Aboriginal people were not sedentary, thus never in one place so they could make a claim to owning the land.
The accounts quoted contradicted this view, providing evidence of houses, cultivation, seed banks, fishing management and many other indicators of a more settled and ‘civilised’ people. Pascoe claims that land management by aboriginal people had been largely passive conservation, which might mean moving from location to location in order to preserve productivity, in contrast to the exploitative and damaging imposition of European high-productivity farming whilst ‘static’ on land you owned.
Most of all it challenged the mindset forming the European view of what civilisation is and of land ownership, with its diminished sense of common land (since the enclosures?). Country owns us, rather than we own country.
Saturday 7 January – completing the toy
I decided to try and complete the toy I was making for my grandson for Christmas (which year?), which I had started making in September! The toy was to be a spider, with hollow legs that when squeezed or chewed would react with sounds or lights.
The legs are joined to a pressure detector switch in the plastic container which will be covered with padding and furry skin. The head with the Micro:bit is also squeezable and connected to another pressure switch.
In addition, it would hang on a thread of a rubber band which has the property of varying resistance as it is stretched, so could be programmed to make sounds varying in pitch. The legs needed to poke through a black furry fabric skin, so I needed eyelets, which I had found at the shop All Buttons Great and Small in King Street, Newtown .
Sunday 8 January – Parramatta to Manly by ferry
I started early, aiming for a final lunch date with all the family at Manly beach.
Newtown to Parramatta by train, Parammatta to Manly by ferry, return with my daughter-in-law in the car!
My journey began with a train to Parramatta in the western suburbs of Sydney (the opposite direction to Manly), where a wharf on the Parramatta River was the start of a watery adventure. I caught the first ferry of the day, which after leaving the river, speeded up as it zig-zagged to ferry landings on the north and south sides of Sydney Harbour. I stopped for breakfast on Cockatoo Island – a former penal island, quarry and shipbuilding dock, but now mostly a tourist attraction and camping ground.
The next ferry took me on to Circular Quay to catch my final ferry to Manly, located at the outermost edge of Port Jackson, AKA Sydney Harbour.
When I arrived there, it really felt like I was on my holidays.
The night before, my son had shown me an episode of Bondi Rescue which warned that the beach was somewhere to be thoughtful about risks – from rip tides to sharks. So I sat down to watch the world go by and see the surfers, newly aware of the dangers, but still surprised to see a group of lifeguards carrying a prone body up from the waves. It turned out to be an exercise, nevertheless, the risks are real – “During the first official bathing season in 1903, 17 people drowned on Manly Beach.”
To add to my ‘education’, after about half an hour, a woman accosted me, clipboard in hand, to ask me about government measures to allay fears about sharks! I learnt a lot from that interview about the different ways they were doing that.
I suggested they put warnings into the Sydney Transport app, which already warns me about delays due to sports events based on my journey planning etc., but could help me be informed about the shark risk if headed to the beach! My argument was that it would be ‘just in time, and place’ information.
I had a lovely ‘goodbye’ meal together in the Pantry with all the family, before setting off home for a quiet evening and more work on the spider.
Monday 9 January – the spider
I wanted to be sure the interactivity would work reliably, and decided to solder the wires to the Micro:bit controller. My soldering iron wouldn’t work, so had to use the bit heated on the gas cooker to do the job. I soldered to the back of the edge connectors to look neat, and nothing worked. Who knew that the back plates on the edge connector were unconnected internally!?
Materials and patterns for the outer body of the Spider.
My daughter-in-law did me the kindness of using her overlocker to sew together the parts of the body and the head, and I hand sewed a clear plastic protective plate to the head to cover the Micro:bit, with a hole for the two buttons A & B. I had modelled it on a red-backed spider.
Symbolically, the Micro:bit’s LED lights would become the spiders’ eyes, normally 2 to 8 in number in real spiders, but in this case 25! I had used another plastic tub as a receptacle for the legs and wires to be protected. I made the holes necessary for the legs and wires to pass through and finalised the design to incorporate the USB cable. This would allow the Micro:bit to be powered from a cheap rechargeable battery pack and re-programmed, despite the Micro:bot itself being buried inside the head.
Work continues, but I had to acknowledge I wouldn’t be finishing my grandson’s toy on this trip!
Tuesday 10 January – Art Gallery of New South Wales and Amadeus at the Sydney Opera House
My last day in Sydney! So going out with a bang, I spent the afternoon revisiting the Art Gallery of New South Wales and viewing all that I missed on the first visit. It is an exceptional place, with rich & stimulating collections that I thoroughly enjoyed seeing. I was impressed with the technology used to fill walls with dynamic and exciting art, some very modern – an aesthetic treat for the eye.
Afterwards, I met my son for dinner at Matteo Downtown in Bond Street – a delightful meal as a prelude to watching ‘Amadeus’ at the Sydney Opera House, in itself a double whammy as the play was good, but the interior of the building also delighted.
Interior of Sydney Opera House
All in all, I was completely fulfilled as a parent, to have the shared time, the conversations, the collaborations and the care with my son.
My son and me gazing in wonder at the interior of the Opera House.
Peter moved to Australia in 2019 after working at the Open University and in Teacher Education. We had first met in 1990 at an ITTE (Information Technology in Teacher Education) conference in Bangor, North Wales and kept in and out of touch over subsequent years.
Peter met me at Cardiff station on the outskirts of Newcastle, after a very pleasant train journey through wooded valleys and inlets from the sea, especially the part between Hornsby and Gosford.
Peter’s home was on Stockton Beach with an outstanding view over the beach and the Pacific Ocean in a seemingly peaceful and secluded setting on the north side of the Hunter River – a ferry could take you into the town centre on the south side, but otherwise it was a longish drive around to get there.
Stockton beach – the view in front of Peter’s house.
Having been out of touch and feeling the peace & seclusion in Peter’s beach-front house obscured three unexpected (to me) matters:
Peter’s wife Hilary had passed away earlier in 2022 and Peter was in the midst of preparing to drive round Australia in a camper van with lovely new partner Cathy – he was going through a real life-changing hiatus.
Stockton Beach was eroding, threatening the road and houses, including Peter’s house, which he has luckily sold.
The erosion was caused by the change in tidal / wave behaviour brought about by the breakwaters for the entrance to the largest coal exporting harbour in the world.
A long catch up with Peter that evening helped me to understand all about the first matter, as we shared our recent histories, but awareness of the other two grew on me over the next days.
Thursday 12 January – book editing, van testing and beer tasting
The day started with me waking before dawn, and deciding to get out on the beach to see the sun rise over the Pacific – needless to say it was beautiful.
Peter had invited me to help with house clearing, which he was in the middle of, but more interestingly he also asked if I would help him by reading the book he was writing with Dr Fiona Aubrey-Smith on changing your pedagogical beliefs in the context of technology in education.
I spent most of the morning happily sitting in the living room overlooking the ocean and reading through the draft and adding my reactions. It was very much my interest, and a pleasure to then debate some of the issues with Peter.
Later we went to look at the camper van they were buying to check that it was in good order (there was a saga about that).
Me, Peter Twining and Cathy.
We had dinner at Meriwether Modus in Newcastle – a brewery / bar / restaurant.
I had a lovely vegan tempura burger with chips and shared spicy mushroom wings. We tried two tasting paddles’ of all their beers, but the ‘fruity’ ones were much too sour for my taste. Despite being a bit of traditionalist, I still like an innovative IPA and in general I found the Australian IPAs as good as in any microbrewery in the UK. They had no vegan ice cream so we set off for Derby Street but were frustrated and ended up visiting the supermarket to cater for our pudding lust – something Peter has been noted for!
I really enjoyed eating vegan all the time I stayed with Peter and grateful for the opportunity to give it a go.
Friday 13 January – surf boats, coal, and a flight to Melbourne and Little River
Another early walk and paddle, and even before the sun was up, I saw a small group of early-rising ‘boaties’ rowing out in a surf boat, I assume for exercise and to practice their skills.
There is a long history of life-saving activities from the 1860s when the ‘Stockton Rocket Brigade’ were formed. The sea around the harbour entrance is treacherous with sandbanks and many shipwrecks needed people to be rescued in the early years. As I saw later, the coal ships coming in were guided by three tugs to prevent further shipwrecks.
I was beginning to really get Newcastle’s status as a coal exporting port, as I watched the queue of ships from Peter’s balcony lookout, coming to collect the coal piled up in Newcastle by trains from the mines of the Hunter Valley inland, destined for places like Japan. They moved silently, belying their deadly cargo in relation to global warming.
A coal boat enters Newcastle harbour. In the foreground barriers prevent cars from being caught up in the erosion.
Only last summer (August 2022) I was on holiday and stumbled on Hambach in the countryside west of Köln, which turned out to be Germany’s largest open-cast brown coal mine. Greta Thunburg has only recently been visiting another nearby mine, where a protest to stop its expansion is underway. Ironic that I should stumble on both Hambach and Newcastle, since my voyage to Germany in particular was partly to prove my electric car could do such a road-trip without too much trouble. It seems I’m fated to visit some of the most dangerous places for our planet’s future.
Later, Peter took me to the airport to catch a flight to Melbourne, hire a hybrid car and drive to meet Gina in her lovely house in Little River, which I found in the dark. Although Gina was an early sleeper, she got up, as we had to spend some time picking up on the fifteen years or so since we last met!
Saturday 14 January – the Koorie Heritage Centre and Victoria Gallery in Melbourne
Gina was busy organising a birthday treat for her friend Leanne, but her group of friends generously welcomed me to their birthday breakfast. I learnt that Leanne had just registered for PhD and wanted to look at Computational Thinking in primary education.
Like many such students, there is no support group outside of her supervisory arrangements. I hope she will join the group I and Mags have formed, and which has been so useful to its members (and me).
I took the train into Melbourne to visit the Koorie Heritage Trust and the National Gallery of Victoria. There was a tour in progress within the Koorie, but the young guide had no problem letting me listen in, as he talked about his Aboriginal heritage and explained some of the artefacts in their collection. Their shop was filled with gifts made by First Nations people, with the promise of the profits being returned to them, so I got a couple of presents there. I later visited the National Gallery of Victoria down the road and had a look round their modern art collections.
I had missed that their Indigenous art collection was in the Ian Potter Centre, a building next door to the Koorie Heritage centre, but luckily I had time to walk back there before closing – well worth it, it was tremendous.
Indigenous paintings, horizontal and vertical, in the Ian Potter Centre of the National Gallery of Victoria
Sunday 15 January – Bunjil in the You Yangs
Gina and I rose early to drive into Melbourne and pick up our friend and ex-Ultralab-colleague Ali Gee who was house / dog sitting there.
Since we last saw each other back in around 2008, Ali had been an active Voluntary Service Overseas volunteer, busy in The Gambia and in Papua New Guinea applying her expertise in education & technology. It was a real pleasure to be reunited, and we spent the day walking and talking in the You Yangs Regional Park.
First we took Gina’s dog Leo for a walk, encountering a mob of Kangaroos at the entrance to the park. Gina led us to a geoglyph (an arrangement of rocks) about the size of a football field, which Gina challenged us to guess what. My best guess was it might be a figure of an animal (after wondering if it was for corralling animals).
Later, after another scrumptious breakfast, we went without Leo to climb Flinders Peak, the central mountain in the You Yangs. Only just a mountain, at 1034 feet, it was an easy ascent on well made paths.
Part way up, we stopped to view the geoglyph below, which turned out to be the outline of a giant Wedge-tailed Eagle, the form taken by the local Dreamtime creator deity named Bunjil. The massive granite boulders that surrounded the path, the smiling & friendly climbers we met and the views from the top were fantastic, but the best part was the company, and our conversations on the way up and down!
Ali Gee, Gina Cathro and me on Geelong beach between broadwalk bollards
After the You Yangs, we drove to Geelong to enjoy an ice cream and a stroll around the foreshore viewing Jan Mitchell‘s broadwalk bollards, before returning to Little River to have an enjoyable meal in the local pub. It really felt like an authentic Australian family venue.
Monday 16 January – Brambuk in Gariwerd
I set off from Little River in the hired car heading for Gariwerd, AKA the Grampians National Park – there has been controversy about its naming. The mountains are quite unlike the Scottish Grampians!.
On leaving, I paused again in the You Yangs to take the short walk to the Big Rock which was a significant aboriginal site, and that’s how it felt. I was lucky to see a male ‘superb fairywren’, a well deserved name, chasing after several females between the massive granite rocks. The male superb fairywren is known to pluck yellow petals and display them to females in courtship display!
I continued towards Ballarat, at first on dirt roads, stopping briefly in Buninyong to shop for lunch. On the way, at Anakie, I saw signs for ‘Koala Country’, and the wooded road through Steiglitz looked good for Koala spotting but I didn’t get lucky.
Steiglitz is an old gold mining settlement in the Brisbane Ranges National Park (not anywhere near Brisbane), whose population at the height of its success was 2000, dropping to 8 at one point.
Finally I arrived at Halls Gap and the Eco YHA Hostel (YHA stands for Youth Hostel Association). What do you mean I am not a youth!?!?
I had booked a quiet double bed in a private room and enjoyed the lovely communal atmosphere in the shared kitchen and living areas. It was just the same as the YHA experience I had when travelling in Vienna with my youngest son Sasha on a music-culture break in 2009.
I stopped by the visitor centre, which had just closed for the day, but the guide on her way to her car told me I could walk around the centre and have a look at the wetlands behind, so I did and was immediately rewarded by grazing kangaroos and also a good look at the Brambuk cultural centre which had sadly closed the year before. It was owned and managed by Jardwadjali and Djab Wurrung people from five Aboriginal communities with historic links to the Gariwerd-Grampians ranges and the surrounding plains. I suspect it is a hiatus, as a refurbishment is promised and a re-opening later in 2023. I could see it was set up to offer Aboriginal experiences to tourists. The design of the roof of the building was modelled on a Cockatoo (a local totem, named Brambuk) with outstretched wings, also intended to echo the surrounding mountains. Cockatoos were in abundance, the equivalent of pigeons in Trafalgar Square.
Cockatoos in Halls Gap
I asked the youth hostel manager where could I see the sunset best, and he directed me to Reed’s lookout a short, winding drive out of Halls Gap.
Sensational. See the photo at the start of this blog.
At one point, after the sun had set (and most tourists had left!), Venus and Saturn, Jupiter and Mars were hanging over a pristine-looking Gariwerd, with its immense expanse of unspoilt bush and saw-tooth peaks piercing a velvety cyan sky.
Tuesday 17 January – rock painting in Gariwerd
I was slow to start this day, but got down to the visitor centre to ask for advice on visiting rock paintings, one of the strengths of the area is that some 90% of Victoria’s rock art is here. There are five curated spots in Gariwerd, but to visit them all in a day was just too much. I chose to drive to the more remote two in the south and west of the park and the visitor centre suggested a route, which they assured me was on good roads. In fact they were all dirt roads through the middle of nowhere, luckily not so rough as to demand a four-wheel drive, just slow work. I saw no-one else all day, neither on the road nor at the rock painting sites, although I was blessed with sightings of Emus and an Echidna on the way.
At the Manja shelter I had a twenty-minute walk along a well made path, brushing through ferns and wonderful wild flowers at times and across a boggy patch on a board walk, but not overly strenuous. The anticipation was raised by huge rocky outcrops, acting like sentinels on the way, and at the site a sprawling, huge and colourful beast of a rock below which was the shelter, fenced in to prevent defacement. The paintings were faint and took time to discern, but the knowledge of their age combined with the drama of the overhanging rock was compelling and moving. I walked back feeling I had been somewhere significant.
At the Billimina shelter all this was amplified. A shorter, steeper climb, although entirely manageable, went past a small waterfall and through flower-laden bush ending up at a gargantuan overhanging rock – even the widest lens on my phone could not capture how it felt to be standing under it. Here the paintings were more prominent and numerous, and there was a real sense of being in a place where people had been for tens of thousands of years – profoundly amazing.
Billimina shelter
I returned to Halls Gap in the dusk & dark on the main roads going around the park. The sheer number of kangaroos springing up everywhere surprised me, and I found myself braking sharply to avoid one careless jaywalker (jayjumper?).
Wednesday 18 January – Tower Hill and the Great Ocean Drive
I left Gariwerd and headed south to the Tower Hill reserve, where I had booked a guided tour. Tower Hill is a former volcano – a circular caldera with a central island contained by a lake. With a chequered past of colonial abuse as a site, it is now restored to a beautiful natural reserve and its cultural centre tells us about First Nations people – their life and culture.
Until now I had been ticking off my mental bingo card of Australian things to see, and so far had not seen a Koala or a Black Swan (except at a long distance). So imagine my delight as I pulled up at the visitor centre and in the tree in front of me was a nonchalant Koala! Later I saw Black Swans on the lake.
We soon started the tour, about fifteen folk, adults & children, sat in the cultural centre and invited to sing songs and hear stories of Aboriginal life. Brett, our cool and funny guide showed us wooden tools and told us stories, some harrowing, about his family and his people’s experiences, but all with a gentle and forgiving voice.
Brett Clarke and me in my new kangaroo skin hat
We then went for a walk round the park, encouraged by Brett to taste several tasty plants and we continued a friendly dialogue with Brett as we walked.
He also told us about his continuing practice as an artist and musician and told us about his exhibition in the gallery in Warrnambool, a nearby town. Warrnambool happened to be on my way for the next leg of my journey, back East along the Great Ocean Road to return to Gina’s house in Little River. I stopped by the gallery and really enjoyed seeing and hearing Brett’s work.
The Great Ocean Road seemed to me in three parts, at least starting from Warrnambool.
First, relatively flat and without great views except for the stops at lookouts for the Bay of Islands, the Twelve Apostles. I stopped for lunch at Port Campbell.
Second, I enjoyed the tall stands of trees in the forests of the Great Otway National Park and seeing the vistas occasionally opening up (for example at Johanna Beach) before stopping at the resort in Apollo Bay for an ice cream.
Third, the stretch along to Geelong which for the most part hugs the beach and then rises to round headlands and repeat. Delightful and a proper ocean drive!
I returned in time to chat again with Gina briefly, discovering more about her current work as a learning designer.
Thursday 19 January – going home
A pleasant conversation with Gina’s friend Margaret over breakfast, before setting off to catch the flight home.
I couldn’t help but wonder about the landscape visible from the plane as we flew over central Australia – it reminded me of many of the paintings I’d seen, in both colour and form.
Central Australia from the air
Postscript
I returned to Dublin early on 20 January in time to do a little work with Louise, my colleague on the OurKidCode project before joining Nina and Glenn and Mags for our postponed Christmas lunch.
Mags and I then spent a little time preparing for her viva the following week (did I mention Dr Margaret Mary Amond got her PhD?) before setting off home for Brentwood arriving at 3am after a delayed flight and a hike through East London.
I didn’t surface for two days – exhausted but supremely happy.
I had been delighted on so many fronts – happy times with family, excellent catch-ups with friends and never-ending intellectual, political & aesthetic stimulation.
First, Friday last –I hear about the success of the ‘Tá’ (Yes) in the Irish referendum to repeal the 8th amendment to their constitution that forbade abortion – no more.
And finally on Tuesday – I helped screen a preview of the excellent film ‘Sink’, viewing and discussing with friends in the local Labour Party and in the company of the film’s writer and director, Mark Gillis.
Set in London’s East End, the film portrays Micky, a working class man who attempts to keep his family – himself, his aged father and troubled son – afloat in the context of a punishing welfare & jobs regime. In the film, metaphorically and literally, the banking crisis of 2007 looms on the London skyline, but I found myself taking issue with others in our discussion after the film. It was suggested that the current ‘system’ was an inevitable response to that banking crisis. Although I would be just as judgemental about the bankers, I felt that the system is in fact a deliberate design by the Conservative government that used austerity (I like to call it arseterity) as a cure for notional overspending by the previous Labour government. It has proven to be a wicked and cruel policy that has impoverished the weak and enriched the already wealthy.
The film portrayed Micky as helpless, as he sinks within that system until in the end he decides to transcend it, introducing a moral complexity that got us talking.
So what else could be done? First we must recognise that the system is no accident and that it can be changed. My friends in Ireland who had canvassed in so many neighbourhoods, Joan Baez singing Joe Hill and my own systems thinking inspire this recognition in me!
As an enthusiastic member of the Institute for Educational Cybernetics a few years ago, I became clearer about the value of a systems thinking approach to addressing social challenges – specifically, in my case, the design of education. Cybernetics was famously applied in the context of central government (a word that is fundamental to the field) in the case of Cybersin and Allende in early seventies Chile.
But such centralised thinking must be matched by consideration of each individual’s need to think, value, and act accordingly, to make any system function well. We can suffer as victims of a system or we can choose to become effective ‘ants’ and through principled action, change it or make it serve our collective needs!
For me, this is why I chair the local Labour Party and seek to encourage members to work together, respecting their diversity and humanity.
SO…
In the wonderful world of Twitter, I serendipitously came across Lankelly Chase. I won’t address all of their work here, but I do recommend their account of their vision, mission and values, which focus on the systems which surround those who suffer severe disadvantage.
I think their model of systems behaviour, although intended to help improve matters for the likes of Micky, could also be applied more widely, but with one proviso – it should address the system and the individual.
The system behaviours Lankelly Chase identify in this regard are about perspective, power and participation and relate to ‘everyone’ and their understanding of the system – I have added my notes to these and to their assumptions.
What do you think?
PERSPECTIVE
Lankelly Chase’s words
My notes of advice to the individual
1. People view themselves as part of an interconnected whole
Everyone working towards positive change understands that their actions form part of a web of activity made up of the contribution of many others. Everyone wants the system as a whole to work, and knows they cannot control it.
Make acts transparent at every level, cross refer and give credit to others.
2. People are viewed as resourceful and bringing strengths
Everyone is viewed as bringing both strengths and weaknesses as part of a resourceful network of people who are continually growing and learning from each other.
Praise the strengths; recognise and forgive the weaknesses; offer ‘unconditional positive regard’.
3. People share a vision
People appreciate each other’s perspectives and seek common purpose and understanding.
Allow for diversity; tolerate alternatives.
POWER
4. Power is shared, and equality of voice actively promoted
All people are able to play their fullest role in building an effective system. Unequal distribution of power, including structural inequality, is continually addressed.
Exercise positive discrimination e.g. use all-women short lists, or more fun: insist that men make and serve the tea & coffee.
5. Decision-making is devolved
Those people closest to a complex situation are free to engage with its uniqueness and context and to use their initiative to respond to it.
Act freely within a framework of responsibility to values and integrity rather than unquestioning loyalty to leaders.
6. Accountability is mutual
System improvements are driven by accountability to the people being served. The people being served are supported to take responsibility for their own change.
Offer meaningful redress when something goes wrong.
People feel safe to ask the difficult questions, voice disagreement and deal with the conflict and uncomfortable emotions that surface.
Ideally, be a friend who listens and cares!
8. Leadership is collaborative and promoted at every level
Leadership is identified and valued as much in the person experiencing interlocking disadvantages and the frontline worker, as in the CEO or commissioner.
Lead by offering a service to frontline workers, rather than accepting a privilege.
9. Feedback and collective learning drive adaptation
People can see a learning loop between the actions they take and their understanding of the problem they are trying to solve, so that each is being continually adapted and refined.
Seek to reflect in and on action. This is cybernetics and is an aspect of my PhD!
Assumptions
Systems are complex and often messy webs that are constantly shifting. They consist of tangible things like people and organisations, connected by intangible things like history, worldviews, context and culture.
Recognise that systems are multi-layered, and performance at one level cannot be simply explained by characteristics at another.
Everyone who is part of a system holds a different perspective on its nature, purpose and boundaries. No one person holds the whole truth (including us).
Make these perspectives clear, through listening and dialogue.
Everything and everyone exists in relationships, and these involve emotions.
Recognise emotions, impulses from bodily reactions and also feelings, constructs formed in the mind, sometimes through faulty or incomplete logic and evidence.
Change emerges from the way the whole system behaves not from the actions of any one project or organisation. We therefore need to help build the fitness of the system to generate positive change.
Embrace those we dislike or find uncomfortable.
The complexity of systems means we can’t fully plan how to achieve the changes we seek, but we can identify several conditions that enable positive change and the actions that are likely to move us toward our goal.
Gather evidence, review and plan again for an iterative, action inquiry approach.
One of my leisure activities is to screen films in the context of university outreach and a community film club. This blog is about an issue which has come up in that context.
Subtitles or captions are increasingly commonly available on films, particularly those distributed on DVD or Bluray disc. They can be switched on simply to display what is spoken, or they can be descriptive of the sounds generated by action in the film – audio description. This can help viewers who are hard of hearing, profoundly deaf or where the film’s spoken language is not the viewer’s mother tongue. But it is not only these viewers who benefit as this BBC article argued over ten years ago. Others express humorous, but strongly felt views about showing subtitles.
In my current practice, we show subtitles for foreign language films, since predominantly the viewers’ mother tongue is English – their need is only to understand the words spoken, since most can hear and interpret other sounds.
Of course this is a compromise – the subtitles interfere with the picture, distract us from the action and demand eye movement and concentration when the visual aspect of the film is arguably more important. Nevertheless, we make that compromise in order to comprehend the film.
When we screen English language films, we only show subtitles if they are available and if we think there might be some difficulty in understanding the spoken word. This may be due to actors’ pronunciation, because it is poorly recorded or if there is significant interference from music or sound effects . A good example occurred when screening The Angels’ Share, in which the actors speak with broad Scottish accents. So we try to make that judgement in advance of the screening on a case-by-case basis.
The problem
Recently, there was a call to show subtitles on English language films in order to welcome deaf and hard of hearing members to screenings. There are over eleven million hearing impaired in the UK (one in six) and this is even more prevalent amongst an elderly population, where more than 40% of over 50 year olds suffer from hearing loss. This proposal met with resistance, with some arguing that it spoilt enjoyment of the film and was not what viewers expected.
So what is the right thing to do?
Alternative solutions
As well as showing subtitles, there are other technical solutions that might help and there is good advice available from a range of sources, for example this from Cinema for All.
In brief, one can install sound-loop systems which amplify specific sounds, feeding them directly to a hearing aid. These cost money to install in the fabric of the building and are most useful to hard of hearing or deaf viewers when there is interference from other sounds. Infra-red transmission to headphones can also achieve this outcome, without the expense of building modifications.
For viewers with English as a second language, who do not need amplification but translation, subtitles can be viewed on a smartphone with specialist equipment to transmit this data. Clearly this means moving the eyes even further away from the action.
Each of these alternatives involve investment and do not cover all viewers’ need, but offer a different compromise. Simply amplifying the film’s sound is not adequate to address the diversity of hearing needs as one blogger points out. The advantage of switching on subtitles on the screen is that it costs nothing – an important issue for amateur organisations, and certainly the best option in the first place.
Mainstream cinema policies
Mainstream cinemas do try to support those who would benefit from subtitles, but arguably by supporting access rather than inclusion. They schedule screenings where subtitles are shown for specific times and these are rarely convenient for those working and don’t make it easy to join in a social event with friends and family. See for example the Odeon’s policy.
It is also quite difficult to search for such screenings, so going to the cinema becomes a planned activity rather than a spontaneous pleasure.
Finding a subtitled screening
To tackle this problem, the website Your Local Cinema is dedicated to identifying when cinemas are showing subtitled and audio description films for the hearing or sight impaired. It explains the case for screening films with technical support of all kinds to create an inclusive cinema for all. It exhorts cinemas to provide an equal service so that a diverse public can enjoy the cinema experience with family & friends, and it is supported by the Cinema and Television Benevolent Fund, UK film distributors (via the FDA) and the British Film Institute.
Through a competition inviting messages about subtitles they have created a list which is worth reading through to get a flavour of the range of experiences and wishes. This is a selection from that site:
“I know quite a few people who, like me, have become disabled in the prime of their lives. I served in Iraq, came home last year with permanent damage to my hearing. I can still enjoy music, it’s just not as clear as it used to be. I find I now read a lot of song lyrics! Never really bothered before. Same with films. I can still enjoy them with a little ‘assistance’. In this case, subtitles. I only go to the cinema now if the film is subtitled. Thankfully most are these days.”
“[my mother] has stopped going to see English language films as, even with hearing aids, she can’t really hear them properly (Also because sound levels fluctuate so much in movies that she has to keep on fiddling with aids). Waiting till something comes out in DVD is really not the same.”
“I think subtitled cinema is great, When i lost my hearing i thought my social life was over but subtitled cinema has proved me wrong!”
“I can honestly say that subtitled cinema has been a dream come true. It’s given me & my mum the chance to share quality time together. She’s profoundly deaf since she was aged four, preventing her from enjoying the cinema (whooping cough took her hearing away).”
“After I saw Inception (with subtitles, of course which I’m very grateful, cheers) I bumped into a friend who was working there at the time told me there was a hearing woman (who went to the same screening as me) made a complaint that there was subtitles on the screen! This totally annoyed me over the fact she did once not think of how lucky she is, that she can come to a cinema to watch any film at any time of any day whereas the rest of us with hearing difficulties has one or two subtitled film per week, sometimes none if those listed films aren’t our cup of tea. (And also why she came to see the subtitled film in the first place anyway, oh deary me!)”
“For years, as a teenager, all my friends would always want to go the cinema, so I’d go along, pretend to know what happened, and laugh when everyone else laughed at something funny.
But now subtitled movies allow me to enjoy watching films with my family and friends. I can talk about what happened in the movie and laugh along with the jokes – not because everyone else laughed! Best invention ever!!”
“”I’m hard of hearing. Subtitles are a godsend when visiting the Cinema, or watching a DVD at home. As a person of a certain age I only wish we had them back in the forties and fifties, when Brando and other Method actors were mumbling their way through various movies!”
“My wife is deaf and finds the high sound levels are useless to her, as is the loop system. I have only praise for the companies involved in producing subtitled facilities – they make the world of difference.”
“Hard of hearing folks without a hearing aid rely heavily on subtitling. Being able to go to the cinema and see a subtitled film really reduces the isolation they live with.”
“I have a friend whom English is her second language so reading the words as they’re said helps teach her the language.”
Conclusion
This issue is problematic and any solution involves compromise. My view is that the compromise of always showing subtitles is worth making in order to be inclusive and reduce social isolation in a small town with no cinema and an ageing population. I have become convinced that this is the best way to welcome the deaf, hard of hearing and those with English as a second language to watch and discuss films with their friends and families.
What do you think? Please feel free to express your views by adding a comment to this article or emailing me directly at richard.millwood@gmail.com.
This is a diary of my Eclipse road trip in August 2017 from Las Vegas to Idaho and back to Las Vegas via many canyons, an eclipse and a visit to my friend Derek in Sedona, Arizona.
I arrived in Las Vegas on Thursday 17th, with plenty of time for the long drive north to Idaho to find a good spot for the eclipse on Monday the 21st. After that, I planned to drive to Sedona to meet Derek and then back to Las Vegas and home.
Thursday 17th – Manchester to Las Vegas to North Rim
I flew to Las Vegas from Manchester at 9:15am, partly to get a good price and also to have the chance the night before to enjoy the company of friends Stephen, Joy & Lily and dine with them and niece & nephew-in-law Sineád & Adam, recently moved to Manchester.
I turned up at a reasonable hour, but neglected to plan accommodation in the US, intending to sleep in the back of the SUV I hired. I was surprised that the check-in desk wanted to know where I was staying in the US, but quickly located a motel and told them that – nobody cared whether it was the truth! I was flying with Thomas Cook on a budget and didn’t expect a meal, but they did serve two and ‘tap water’. You could buy drinks.
As we flew over Canada and the northern mid western states and finally Wyoming and Utah, I could just about work out where we were using Galileo and its offline maps. I had downloaded them earlier in England to help me navigate when I feared that out in the midst of the American West I’d be without a network to access Google maps. The last part of the flight, coming in over Utah, Arizona and into Nevada was really beautiful, although looked scarily desertified and hot – we landed around midday Pacific Time.
Las Vegas McCarran airport has a shuttle bus to the hire car centre, some blocks away, and I hired my SUV and set off to a nearby Walmart to shop for cooking gear and food, water, beer and ice. I got the cheapest sleeping bag for $15 and a foam mattress cover to sleep on for $2 instead of the inflatable bed I’d planned. Other camping purchases include a saucepan, frying pan and propane stove. I got two gallons of water in plastic containers.
Las Vegas Strip reflected in my sunglasses
I headed out of La Vegas via the Strip on Las Vegas Boulevard and drove north on the interstate freeway I15, passing through the awesome Virgin River Canyon and paused in St George as evening descended, the first of many stops at Walmarts along the way to benefit from their free Wi-fi.
Las Vegas to North Rim
I drove on before finally stopping around 10:30pm along the state highway 89A, just before Jacob’s Lake. I was so tired, I could only drink a beer for supper.
I slept until 2:30am and woke to see the moon rise. With the clock in my head disrupted and feeling wakeful, I decided to drive on to North Rim to see the sun rise over the Grand Canyon. I had to refuel at Jacob Lake around 3am and arrived at the North Rim visitors’ centre around 4am in the black before dawn. I walked the path to Bright Angel Point in the dark and waited alone to watch the sun rise over the Grand Canyon.
Sun rise at Grand Canyon
Grand Canyon lit by sunrise
Walking back, I realised how precipitous Bright Angel Point was, with sheer cliffs either side of the path and at one point a narrow bridge. Take a look at the link above and move the mouse around to shift your view! I suffer a little from fear of heights, and felt a little dizzy and out of breath on return to the car – later I learnt that it was most likely contributed to by the altitude, around 6,000 ft.
I drove back up the beautiful road, seeing wild bison, and then turned off to the East Rim overlook to cook breakfast in the forest. After eating, I took a short walk to see the East Rim view over the Grand Canyon: behind me, a delightful alpine scene of forest, meadow, deer and antelope; before me, a flat desert plain scarred by the Colorado River’s canyon cut-in deep, dark and devilish looking.
East Rim Overlook
Friday 18th – North Rim to Ogden
Rested and well fed, I started the drive back through Jacob Lake and then Fredonia, Kanab and to visit Bryce Canyon.
North Rim to Ogden
Unlike the North Rim, Bryce Canyon was heaving with tourists and I parked and took the shuttle bus around to the viewpoints, again feeling the thinness of the air at around 8,000ft.
Bryce Canyon from Inspiration Point
It was a most dramatic scene, demanding many photographs.
The road back from Bryce Canyon went through Red Canyon, remarkable by the standards of any other place, but overshadowed here:
Red Canyon panorama
Then north through Panguitch and across for the I15 to Salt Lake City and Ogden, reached in the dark, where I stopped, exhausted. I found a quiet place next to the freeway on an old main road at junction 341 on the I15 with West 31st Street and slept as long as I could.
Saturday 19th – Ogden to Forest Road 142, Mackay, Idaho
Waking again to the moon rise, now a slim crescent, I drove on.
Ogden to Forest Rd 142 Mackay Idaho
Short of Pocatello, I took a turn to look for a breakfast spot and found myself in the South Mink Creek and stopped in the Slate Mountain trailhead car park to make breakfast and read a book for an hour.
Back on to the I15 and through Pocatello, I visited the Shoshone-Bannocks tribes’ museum at Fort Hall, notable for the abstract patterns on the Native American art:
Shoshone-Bannocks museum example of Porcupine Quillwork
Through Blackfoot, where I turned north west on the US26, I crossed the Snake River plain and passed Atomic City. This small village was built to house the scientists operating the many nuclear research establishments scattered widely over this desert plain as part of the Idaho National Laboratory. I visited the EBR-1 nuclear reactor museum near Arco which was the first Uraniam breeder reactor to generate electricity.
Four famous light bulbs lit on Dec 20 1951 proving the potential for nuclear power
Filled up with petrol in Arco, I drove up past Mackay and its reservoir, an area I had scouted out on Google street view, but it was already pretty busy, so I drove on and turned off towards the hills on the west side of the valley. After seeing Ospreys with fish in their talons by the side of the road, I discovered a track and stopped to ask two men in camouflage clothing where it went. They turned out to be hunting with bow and arrow and advised me it would lead to the top and that there would be good camping spots there.
They were absolutely right – I drove up and found an excellent camp site in the shade of some pine trees and set about eating dinner. I had established my eclipse camping spot a day earlier than I had left time for, so felt really pleased to get some good rest and enjoyed the sunset illuminating the Lost River mountain range to the east across the valley, which included Borah Peak, the highest mountain in Idaho at 12,661 ft.
Lost River mountain range sunset
Sunday 20th – day of rest
After a good sleep, I still woke up early and watched the moon rise – so thin now as it neared the sun that it was almost invisible.
After breakfast, I walked along the road and then sat down to read Analogue Mountain, a gift from friend Doireann for Derek, but here I was with nothing to read and a day to fill!
For some reason a little later I discovered that the car wouldn’t start – the battery had run down. I blamed the sidelights.
After much worrying and thinking – I was a good way off the road and from the nearest habitation – I decided to make a sign to invite help. Every hour or so, a vehicle might pass on its way further in to the forest – there may have been as many as 12 people camping within a mile or two of me by the time of the eclipse.
Flat battery sign
The first encounter was with two quad bikers who couldn’t help, but promised to pass on the message.
Then a Mercedes van stopped and Dan Stempien got out, full of good cheer and had the jumper leads needed to start the car. Phew.
He travelled, lived and conducted his work in the summer months from his converted van. He was pleased to have found a mobile signal, with the help of an extra arial on the roof, which meant that he decided to camp next to me – welcome company.
A generous soul, he also gave me a spare pair of eclipse spectacles to watch with the next day.
Me and Dan waiting for the eclipse
Later, four other friendly eclipse watchers from Salt Lake City came along to say hi to us as their ‘neighbours’ and we enjoyed a discussion of stars and constellations over a drink.
Monday 21st – eclipse day
I was up early to watch the sun rise – no sign of the moon!
After breakfast, Dan and I watched the eclipse together and agreed it was both fantastic and emotional. The reduction in light and warmth as we watched the sun being ‘eaten’ was remarkable, perhaps exaggerated by the mountain top location. At totality, I was surprised that I could see the photosphere (atmosphere) of the sun with its coronal flares so comfortably and so brilliantly. The moment of the ‘diamond ring’ was phenomenal, a genuine jolt of adrenaline and cheers and whoops where audible from our neighbours, who were at least a mile away on another hilltop.
Me trying to photograph totality
I set off for Sedona shortly later, finding modest queues as I exited the valley to Arco. Traffic was light until arriving in Blackfoot, where I mistook the northbound I15 slip road to Idaho Falls for the entrance to Walmart, so wasted time finding the next exit back to Blackfoot and to Walmart to pause and connect to the internet. Traffic on the I15 south was so bad that getting out of Blackfoot proved very slow and so I drove on side roads to avoid the masses. Eventually it picked up and I drove until nightfall to the same spot in Ogden, just North of Salt Lake City, that I had slept in on the way north.
Forest Rd 142 Mackay Idaho to Sedona
I didn’t sleep long and woke in the night,deciding to drive on. This was premature, and I had to stop again just south of Salt Lake City to sleep some more.
Tuesday 22nd Salt Lake City to Sedona
I woke early and drove on, stopping to breakfast just off the I15 outside Fillmore, and then visited the statehouse museum in the city (town).
Territorial Statehouse State Park Museum in Fillmore
The museum had interesting original artefacts and explanations of the history of Mormon settlement and Native American relations in the early days. Particularly miserable to hear of the slave trading undertaken by a local chief, and his burial, which entailed the slaughteringof his two wives and his favourite horses to lie in his burial site with him. Also the staking of a young Indian child to district wolves from desecrating the grave. Shocking.
I then drove on a bit and stopped to visit the Kolob Canyons – remarkable rocks.
Next to Jacob Lake again and more petrol before descending the East Rim of the Grand Canyon and visiting Marble Canyon and the Navajo bridge as the sun was going down.
Marble Canyon
Then a long drive to Flagstaff, passing mile after mile after mile of Vermillion Cliffs and seeing many Native American homes and villages. In Flagstaff, I paused to connect with the Airbnb host for the place where I was to stay in Sedona, and tell Derek I was an hour away, before driving down to Sedona. Derek met me outside the house I rented and we eat takeaway and locally brewed beer and had a good talk before a much needed sleep.
Wednesday 23rd – Sedona
Derek came round in the morning and we went to buy a pass to visit sites in Sedona and breakfast in a nice cafe with traditional Mexican food.
We visit the ruined Sinagua dwellings in the Palatki Heritage Site and a grotto with cave paintings and a house built by a more recent settler who planted fruit trees in the canyon. We returned to drink in a lovely cafe and talk about micro worlds.
Later we visited Derek’s mum, talked butterflies and then went to sit on a rocky platform near Chimney Rock, not far from where I was staying, and enjoyed the sun set, talked about Derek’s condition and made a video for the Italian teachers in Urbino, who we were missing.
Derek and the sunset
Finally, we enjoyed a delightful meal at the Mariposa (butterfly). A real pleasure to have such quality time with Derek.
Thursday 24th
Set off at 6:20 to drive to Las Vegas, with a brief visit to the Hoover Dam. Cool and rainy for the first time, flight home uneventful.
One of the students on the Masters in Technology and Learning that I direct at Trinity College Dublin works as an assistant to a senator in Ireland’s parliament. She found out that I chaired the Brentwood and Ongar Constituency Labour Party and mentioned it to colleagues in Leinster House. This led to an invitation to speak there on my view of the Corbyn phenomenon.
I explained that I wasn’t a Corbyn insider, but that nevertheless, I would love to tell them what I did know from the perspective of Brentwood and Ongar constituency.
Although their curiosity was driven by the huge rise in membership around Corbyn’s leadership, I was more interested in explaining that there was value in our effort in Brentwood, even when you have little chance of winning, characterised by these seven aims:
Fulfil a need for like-minded people to discuss politics
Provide political education
Develop campaigning skills, and apply in marginals
Maintain local and parish council representation
Encourage and support young people
Apply professional and personal experience to the development of local and national policy
In the university at which I am currently employed, Trinity College Dublin, some enterprising staff have organised a free course titled ‘Women in Film’. Over ten weeks or so, academic enthusiasts present a film each week which they feel illuminates that theme. I proposed two, hoping that one might be chosen, but both were accepted and then found myself filling in a gap for an indisposed colleague to make it three – this blog is derived from my notes and presentation to the audiences.
I saw the first two of these three films in the same weekend just before Christmas 2015 by complete chance:
‘Woman in Gold’ at the Little Baddow film club in Essex, England – I went to meet and help my friends with the event;
‘Camille Redouble’ at the French Town Twinning Association in Brentwood Essex – I was their technician!
In each case, I had no part in the choice nor any knowledge beforehand of what I was to see, but I felt they both had interesting concerns about being a woman, addressing lifetime change and exploring the contradictions between past potential and present condition.
The third ‘Trois Couleurs: Bleu’ is perhaps the film I most enjoy of all films, having first seen it perhaps twenty years ago – the chance to show it at short notice was willingly seized.
Woman in Gold
Screened 28th January 2016
In ‘Woman in Gold’, Helen Mirren plays a strong older woman lead, telling the story of someone who has lived through some of the most wicked acts of the 20th century – the Kristallnacht and consequent theft of Jewish assets, and the flight of Jews from Nazi persecution and death.
The film has mixed reviews.
My reaction was a certain sense of misguided moral compass – what is the meaning of ownership of great works of art and is it properly answered by this film?
Did this film pass the Bechdel test? – “at least two women who talk to each other about something other than a man”? The test is claimed to be an indicator for the active presence of women in films and other fiction, and to call attention to gender inequality in fiction due to sexism. I didn’t spot it, despite the film featuring at least three strong women.
Finally, is it enough for a film to be carried by a first class actor, offering a compelling and exciting characterisation?
Camille Redouble
Screened 11th February 2016
‘Camille Redouble’, directed and starring Noémie Lvovsky, follows a familiar plot device of time transport back to teenage years and reappraisal of life based on the re-confrontation with earlier life decisions and events.
‘Peggy Sue Got Married ‘, ‘Big’ and 200 other films, according to Wikipedia, feature time loops or travel, so this is a well-worn path.
But, typical of french film, the story is told more naturally, humorously but not forced and ends in a more interesting and realistic manner. I felt it relevant to the Women in Film series because it didn’t portray women in the way Hollywood so often does.
Does this film pass the Bechdel test? It did, but it also certainly passed the ‘Millwood test’ for a good film – ‘did I like any character and begin to care about them’ – I liked them all.
Trois couleurs: Bleu
Screened 25th February 2016
‘Trois couleurs: Bleu’ forms the first part of Krzysztof Kieslowski’s trilogy ‘Trois Couleurs’, which addresses the French flag and motto – liberté, égalité, fraternité. Bleu‘s theme is liberté. Colin McCabe, in a Criterion Collection essay proposes that
“…what Kieslowski had achieved in these films marked a cross-fertilization of the two great postwar European cinemas that could never be surpassed. He had composed the hymn to Europe…”.
But Kieslowski’s purpose is not to pursue politics, instead it is to explore the interleaving of human lives, coincidences, and the individual challenges faced in overcoming great tragedy. In this sense, ‘Bleu’ has a lot in common with both ‘Woman in Gold’ and ‘Camille Redouble’
It begins with a car crash, setting an unbearable challenge to Julie (Juliette Binoche) as she encounters a disastrous form of liberté, shaped by one question : how to continue living when all ties are broken.
Filmed with remarkable cinematography, thrilling music and a delightful, sparse intensity, the story addresses some of the accommodations women must confront due to significant loss, discovered adultery, maternity, sexual promiscuity, a fractured relationship, Alzheimers and a musical Matilda Effect (the systematic repression and denial of the contribution of woman scientists in research, whose work is often attributed to their male colleagues). As Julie navigates these issues, her growing generosity and engagement with creativity and life is uplifting, and the ending is deeply moving with its vital optimism and hymn to enduring love.
A theme which is explored throughout Kieslowski’s trilogy, is the reunification of Europe. The connection between Poland and France, at that time perhaps the leading nations in art cinema, is personified by Juliette Binoche herself who has Polish origins. I find it hard to recall just how things were in the early ’90s, when such countries were only recently reconnected after being on opposite sides of the Iron Curtain for forty years or so, but I did feel excitement. In ‘Bleu’ the choral music is an anthem to the unified European ideal, which was so vitalising and influential at the time of the film’s making in 1993. In a parallel with the negotiation involved in making a new Europe, the process of composition to complete the music takes place in the film itself.
All this is sadly apposite in the current circumstances of ‘Brexit’ inspired by Little Englanders in my own home country of England. For me, as a committed European, the unutterable loss that Julie endures, and overcomes, is perhaps a metaphor for my own prospective loss with an impending referendum on leaving the EU, all thanks to that other car crash known as Cameron and his Conservative cronies.
Juliette Binoche
What about Juliette Binoche? It is hard for me to guess how others, men and women, react to her, but for me she is without compare, not for her sexuality, but for her powerful sense of moral compass and serene beauty. Her own discussion about involvement in the making of the film touches on a central concern for women actors – how is the film to portray women’s position? Binoche, in her discussion about the possibility of gratuitous nudity, says: “You feel like an object. You no longer feel like a subject”, explaining how the media so often misinterpret her acting as a result. And yet she is generally content to see her body used as a vehicle for communicating the director’s intent. With “Bleu” she describes a happy and relaxed relationship with Kieslowski, who seems to be concerned that she does not suffer indignities, even reportedly flying into a rage when Binoche proposes to cut her knuckles for one rather harrowing scene.
Just two nights before showing ‘Bleu’, by chance, I watched Jake Gyllenhaal in ‘Demolition’ as part of the Dublin International Film Festival. ‘Demolition’ arguably parallels much in ‘Bleu’, starting with a car crash which kills Gyllenhaal’s partner, but with a quite different sensibility and rather less ambition. Indeed ‘Demolition’ might well fit into a ‘Men in Film’ course: the camera lingers on Gyllenhaal’s face and body for much of the time, but I suspect the media will see it as great acting rather than exploitation of his undoubtedly handsome face and body!
In both films, in truth, I didn’t once doubt the director’s intent – to make the best possible use of the sophisticated collaboration between actors, crew and director, and their profound artistry.
I recommend all these (films, directors, actors and crew) to you without reservation and thank the organisers of the Women in Film series for the opportunity to indulge myself. The opportunities and coincidences that lead to this particular set coming together would have had Kieslowski smiling.
On Friday, I left my meeting in London and set off from Liverpool Street Station to Essex (the only way is Essex, I live in Brentwood).
“It was as if the daylight had changed with unnatural suddenness, as if the temperature of the evening had altered greatly in an instant or as if the air had become twice as rare or twice as dense as it had been in the winking of an eye; perhaps all of these and other things happened together for all my senses were bewildered all at once and could give me no explanation.”
from the The Third Policeman by Flann O’Brien (Brian O’Nolan)
I didn’t get out at my usual stop, but instead the train continued towards Southend and I disembarked (thanks Sasha) at Southend Airport.
Had I fallen asleep on the journey? Was I in a dream?
I got on a plane to Dublin and found myself inveigled into a secret-service plot to surprise my friend Boyd for his birthday. A black limousine met me at the airport with good friend, colleague and Boyd’s partner Eileen and Tom ‘No. 1 son’, who whisked me to a pub to mark time with Eileen’s old friends (and a Guinness). Then we collected Zac ‘Besty’ (George Best? Animal? or simply the best?) and finally we hid in Findlater in Howth to await the birthday boy. Hosted by Sabine, we enjoyed a fantastic sea-food skillet and laughed and lived our love of family. Aoife offers me a bed for the night and she and I have a cracking conversation long past my bed time.
A very good dream indeed.
Saturday, like in all my best dreams, was spent at a stimulating Association of Teachers’ / Education Centres’ numeracy conference, re-connecting with Eileen Two and meeting the vibrant Dolores Corcoran (where were you Elizabeth?). I guess I should have been suspicious of the conference title – ‘Does it All Add Up?’
Later the birthday party continued with Boyd and Eileen’s neighbours and friends – more cracking conversation and such warm, good people.
Boyd blows out the candles watched by Eileen, Tom and Chantal
Food from Joan (now known as Jo-an-issima) was spot-on, with the shiniest cutlery and glasses. Sing-songs and good company. Shared a brilliant falling star with Aoife and I had to be taken home by the delightful Nessa. It’s not usual to sleep in dreams and I didn’t sleep much before Sunday morning. On waking to a dawn over Dublin Bay, I am off in another limo, to the airport, to fly to London Gatwick.
Dublin Bay and Howth at dawn
I then enter another level of dream – ‘in transit’ – like the novel by Brigid Brophy, that I marvelled at as teenager. Vana arrives and we work on categorising future trends in TEL before a flight to Turin, Italy.
We meet Katherine, who drives us to Pollenzo in Bra, to L’Agenzia di Pollenzo ‘si fa in quattro’ the international headquarters of ‘slow food’. The ‘quattro’ are our hotel Albergo dell’Agenzia also housing Guido Ristorante Pollenzo, the Banco Vino (wine bank) and best of all, the University degli Studi Scienze Gastronomische (University of Gastronomic Sciences) – “the first academic institution to offer an interdisciplinary approach to food studies”. The whole campus is built on part of the UNESCO World Heritage site of King Carlo Alberto’s 1835 Savoy Estate, which in turn is built on the Roman town of Pollentia.
Universita degli Studi Gastronomische
I sit down to dinner with Vana and Katherine:
antipasto – Sformato di verdure con crema di Roccaverano
primo – Tajarin al sugo di salsicca di Bra
secondo – Brasato al Barolo con patate al forno
dolce – Panna Cotta
with a powerful Barbaresco from close by, and we speak all night of creativity.
Barbaresco wine from the local region and Panna Cotta
In this heavenly dream, I wonder how did I deserve or manage such a dreamy, surreally wicked dream weekend, at such times in higher education…
“…with the drink trade on its last legs and the land running fallow for the want of artificial manures” ?
from the The Third Policeman by Flann O’Brien (Brian O’Nolan)
I began to realise, unlike the narrator in Flann O’Brien’s The Third Policeman, who doesn’t know he is in hell, that I must be in heaven and that I passed in my sleep on the train from Liverpool Street.
The second annual Learning on the Beach unconference #lob11 has just scattered – I am blown away, boiled, invigorated and inundated – and that was just the weather. We were a self-select group of ‘old lobsters’ like me @richardmillwood and some fresh faces like @squiggle7 – the value of this mix in challenging the norms of indoor education was enormous.
Activities included:
a scene setter on flat-lining and free-learning from John Davitt
collaborative presentations by teams of participants on themes (and genre) as diverse as Irish History (sing-song), The Salt Marsh (tragedy) and Tides (rap)
a tour of the beach with Seán and Matthew to understand the nurturing approach to the ‘machair’ or sand dunes found on the west coast of Ireland and particularly in Mulranny, where we were staying
the Explainer Olympics – a chance to hone with a sharp stick in the sand our skills in capturing a concept
Postcards from the Edge, scribed on the beach – to let us shout about our findings
thoughts to challenge suppliers – what do we need to support learning outdoors in the design of equipment and infrastructure? Peter at @westnet_ie made it possible for us to connect from the beaches around Mulranny so that we could benefit from our vast array of gadgetry to support our inquiry including TouchaTag an RFID technology, but there were many issues addressed regarding weatherproofing, robustness, daylight viewing and power supply that would enhance outdoor activity anywhere
hot tub, sauna, steam room, cold plunge and swimming pool – four facilities that were welcome 😉
the sharing of Guinness, Google, kindness, camera-derie, Twitter, time, humour and happiness ( to say nothing of black and white pudding, fresh air and fine rain)
Becta have just published the article they commissioned me to write about the history of educational computing. I enjoyed writing it – after all, I have been very active in the field since 1977, so much of it is from the heart.
Alan Edis, Richard Millwood, David Riley & Colin Smith of the Computers in the Curriculum Project plan a multimedia CD-ROM on a chalk board in 1989 at Kings College London
But its real purpose is to try and bring some kind of coherence to a complex story and thus to create the hindsight analysis which can help us use the National Archive of Educational Computing as a storehouse for insightful & inventive design, deployment and application for the future of learning with technology.
If you want to help this venture, please sign up to support the archive or even better, tell your story.
Adrian Mitchell has died;
Boo!
Adrian asked to be lied
to
About Vietnam, I cried
Hoo!
A priapic puppy made me laugh
And kittens,
two
Feeling daft through and
through
But mostly, I miss him
I blogged about this first a long time ago – people invent the phrase they think they heard, and their version has elements of ‘truth’ which are interesting:
‘without further adieu’ instead of ‘without further ado’
‘it isn’t a job for the feint hearted’ instead of ‘it isn’t a job for the faint hearted’
‘arranged eroticly’ instead of ‘arranged erratically’
‘top-draw collection’ instead of ‘top-drawer collection’
‘evil.com mascaraed as bank.com’ instead of ‘evil.com masquerading as bank.com’
‘to achieve the up-most pinnacle’ instead of ‘to achieve the utmost pinnacle’
This was the year for me to invest in High Definition television and I decided on the Sony KDL-V3000 + Playstation 3 (PS3) – a combination Argos were doing a deal on. I wanted the PS3 anyway as the best value Blu-Ray player on the market, and the deal was extraordinary value for money. I am delighted with the outcome, surprisingly, because the sensitivity of the digital freeview tuner in the Sony TV has made terrestrial digital a possibility with weak reception. But what is really outstanding is the way standard DVDs are ‘upscaled’ to look brilliant on the combination of PS3 and Bravia display, and I still haven’t seen a Blu-Ray disc yet! The one downside is it exposes anything poorly recorded/encoded. The PS3 may also be the last moving-parts physical storage media for TV I buy – some think I am already investing in the walking dead ! Meanwhile I am enjoying finding out how The PlayStation 3 is not just a games console… too.
Went with Patrick to this excellent meeting of young and old minds. We spoke to Cameron (8) who told us his ideas for a “mp3 and mp4” player so that he wouldn’t get bored when avoiding his younger brother! It reminded me that changing the world starts small, and visions of what’s important are close to home as well as global.
I was privileged to attend this event at the Royal Ballet School. It was performed by musicians and dancers of their own joint works. I was most impressed by the sophistication in both music and dance and the articulate way they explained their own challenges in collaboration against real deadlines in the discussion afterwards.
I could never have imagined that this was what Sasha would be confidently doing in 2007, when, ten years earlier aged 5, he set out on a musical career.
A real pleasure to hear some outstanding poetry read by the poet in the intimate surroundings of this long-established theatre – a real credit to the town of Bolton. I am not well-read in poetry, but have come to enjoy it substantially in middle-age and Adrian’s material had me excited and tearful in short shrift. You can find him stubbornly reciting ‘Tell me lies about Vietnam’ from thirty years ago on Youtube, but this still scathing poem was scornfully delivered by an energetic 75-year old on Thursday night.
One of my leisure activities is to screen films in the context of university outreach and a community film club. This blog is about an issue which has come up in that context.
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