Sunday 14 December 2008
Back to Germany
Long time between posts. Been to Naples/Pompeii/Amalfi coast and the edge of reason in the meanwhile. Aqua alta, flooding in Venice and conference madness all has happened in the last two months. Now we're gearing up for a christmas trip to Berlin and NYE in CZ. Should be grouse. Also thinking Perth in Feb (am I still mad?). Photos on the intermaweb-thingo. Paul.
Tuesday 23 September 2008
Cricket bat
Hi everyone, getting excited about a trip to Munich for Stevie Wonder and Oktoberfest - we're going on Thursday. Incidentally, I should mention that here in Italy "Munich" is called "Monaco di Baviera" - Monaco of Baveria - it always gives me fear when I'm buying tickets for Monaco di Baviera because I worry that I might end up with a ticket to (just) Monaco.
More importantly, I saw this First Dog on the Moon cartoon on the www.crikey.com website and couldn't help but spread the lovin' around...yes, I'm missing references to cricket bats. If it's too small to read then have a better look at it here and I'd like to repeat that it's with thanks to Crikey that the cartoon exists and I got a cricket bat-related laugh today.
Ciao, Paul.
Thursday 18 September 2008
The nothing month
September is the nothing month - it seems to be the last sigh of procrastination before settling back into something like a working schedule from October through November until the second half of December - and then everything closes again for Christmas! Do these Italians ever do more than three consecutive months of work? Probably not...So Ali and I find ourselves in the situation of Ferragosto being well and truly over - it was August 15 - yet the music bars and the gyms and the african dancing courses are only just starting to re-open, get started, be announced. What was everyone doing during September?
At least October is when I can look forward to regular time in the climbing gym, and Ali can look forward to having a teaching schedule that's regular enough to organise some free-time activities among the choices of joining a band, african dancing, venetian rowing, and "contemporary" singing...
Next week we're off to Oktoberfest in Munich, and Stevie Wonder - should be fun.
At least October is when I can look forward to regular time in the climbing gym, and Ali can look forward to having a teaching schedule that's regular enough to organise some free-time activities among the choices of joining a band, african dancing, venetian rowing, and "contemporary" singing...
Next week we're off to Oktoberfest in Munich, and Stevie Wonder - should be fun.
Tuesday 9 September 2008
Review "The Wrestler" by Darren Aronofsky
This film is tough. Anyone who's seen "Pi" or "Requiem for a Dream" will know that Aronofsky doesn't hold back when it comes to telling a story, and "The Wrestler" follows in that tradition. I can't comment on "The Fountain" because I haven't seen it, and only found out about it last month.
"The Wrestler" tells the story of Randy "The Ram" Robinson, 20 years after his peak as a pro-wrestler. He still wrestles on weekends, in the local scene, but he's a shadow of his glory days - emotionally, financially, physically. The Ram works out the back of a local supermarket, lives in a caravan, has trouble keeping up with the rent, is a regular at the local strip club, lives from day to day, weekend to weekend, fight to fight. Things change when he has a heart attack and is told he can't wrestle - this brush with death leads the wrestler to think about what he is left with when wrestling is taken away. He also seeks to re-establish contact with his twenty-something daughter who has long since moved out and moved on from a father who was never there for her.
This story is paralleled with that of an aging stripper at the club that Randy frequents. Once again, the film explores the options of people who have been used up by their occupations, and are rapidly approaching the point at which they're about to be spat out of a machine that has no more need of them. In the case of the wrestler, there's no plan, no idea and no opportunities - just a big black hole of a world that has moved on way beyond his 80's cock-rock glory days. The stripper has it together and plans on a different job, moving into a house in a different suburb and finding a reasonable school for her son to go to.
The film doesn't go into much of the detail of the wrestling world: very quickly it comes out clean regarding match-fixing if you could even call it that - performance is probably a better word - and doesn't go into the financial exploitation of the wrestlers at all. All of the wrestlers who have it together certainly aren't relying on the sport as their main income. Instead the main theme of the film is that of people who are capable of maintaining control over their circumstances, adapting to change and challenges and not being consumed by their weaknesses, flaws, doubts, fears and addictions. "Pi" and "Requiem for a dream" have already covered that territory well enough, and in a way it feels that perhaps "The Wrestler" hasn't sufficiently distanced itself from that familiar territory. Perhaps after "The Fountain" Aronofsky decided, or was persuaded, to go back to what works and/or what he's known for.
Make no mistake that "The Wrestler" is a fine film and Mickey Rourke's performance is visceral and splendid. The film is violent in parts, not when you expect it to be, and it sets itself in Aronofsky's familiar territory at the unacknowledged and unmentioned fringes of society. There is an abundance of hand-held camera scenes following the wrestler about - giving a similar feel to "Rosetta" or other dogma-influenced films - but the editing is spot-on and the score will remind you how far the rock guitar has gone since the 80's (depending on what you're listening to now...).
Did it deserve to get the Leon d'Oro? Having missed Miyazaki's "Ponyo by the sea" and Barbaret Schroeder's film, I can't say - although as far as displays of filmmaking go, Takeshi did just as well as Aronofsky in my opinion. Mickey Rourke did deserve some acknowledgement of his sensational performance, far more than anybody associated with the terrible "Papa di Giovanna". Based on the few films I saw, I'd have to accede to the viewpoint that the 65th mostra features some fine films but nothing really new (perhaps Schroeter's impenetrably dark queer-fetish "Nuit de chien" came close as a contribution but it leaned a little too heavily on "Eraserhead" and "28 Days Later..." for my liking).
Now that we've figured out the abbonamento system and the "four different ticketing arrangements for three cinemas" anti-system, I think I'm actually looking forward to next years' film festival...
"The Wrestler" tells the story of Randy "The Ram" Robinson, 20 years after his peak as a pro-wrestler. He still wrestles on weekends, in the local scene, but he's a shadow of his glory days - emotionally, financially, physically. The Ram works out the back of a local supermarket, lives in a caravan, has trouble keeping up with the rent, is a regular at the local strip club, lives from day to day, weekend to weekend, fight to fight. Things change when he has a heart attack and is told he can't wrestle - this brush with death leads the wrestler to think about what he is left with when wrestling is taken away. He also seeks to re-establish contact with his twenty-something daughter who has long since moved out and moved on from a father who was never there for her.
This story is paralleled with that of an aging stripper at the club that Randy frequents. Once again, the film explores the options of people who have been used up by their occupations, and are rapidly approaching the point at which they're about to be spat out of a machine that has no more need of them. In the case of the wrestler, there's no plan, no idea and no opportunities - just a big black hole of a world that has moved on way beyond his 80's cock-rock glory days. The stripper has it together and plans on a different job, moving into a house in a different suburb and finding a reasonable school for her son to go to.
The film doesn't go into much of the detail of the wrestling world: very quickly it comes out clean regarding match-fixing if you could even call it that - performance is probably a better word - and doesn't go into the financial exploitation of the wrestlers at all. All of the wrestlers who have it together certainly aren't relying on the sport as their main income. Instead the main theme of the film is that of people who are capable of maintaining control over their circumstances, adapting to change and challenges and not being consumed by their weaknesses, flaws, doubts, fears and addictions. "Pi" and "Requiem for a dream" have already covered that territory well enough, and in a way it feels that perhaps "The Wrestler" hasn't sufficiently distanced itself from that familiar territory. Perhaps after "The Fountain" Aronofsky decided, or was persuaded, to go back to what works and/or what he's known for.
Make no mistake that "The Wrestler" is a fine film and Mickey Rourke's performance is visceral and splendid. The film is violent in parts, not when you expect it to be, and it sets itself in Aronofsky's familiar territory at the unacknowledged and unmentioned fringes of society. There is an abundance of hand-held camera scenes following the wrestler about - giving a similar feel to "Rosetta" or other dogma-influenced films - but the editing is spot-on and the score will remind you how far the rock guitar has gone since the 80's (depending on what you're listening to now...).
Did it deserve to get the Leon d'Oro? Having missed Miyazaki's "Ponyo by the sea" and Barbaret Schroeder's film, I can't say - although as far as displays of filmmaking go, Takeshi did just as well as Aronofsky in my opinion. Mickey Rourke did deserve some acknowledgement of his sensational performance, far more than anybody associated with the terrible "Papa di Giovanna". Based on the few films I saw, I'd have to accede to the viewpoint that the 65th mostra features some fine films but nothing really new (perhaps Schroeter's impenetrably dark queer-fetish "Nuit de chien" came close as a contribution but it leaned a little too heavily on "Eraserhead" and "28 Days Later..." for my liking).
Now that we've figured out the abbonamento system and the "four different ticketing arrangements for three cinemas" anti-system, I think I'm actually looking forward to next years' film festival...
Tuesday 2 September 2008
Review "Achilles and the Tortoise" by Takeshi Kitano
Ali and I saw this film in Mestre with Raph, who came down from Geneva for the weekend. The Venice film festival process is interesting to examine - it is more or less a moneymaking machine (Don't know who for, the Venice city council I assume) - with the public, press, industry folk all paying for the privilege of doing deals with other industry folk and watching some moofies. I guess the stars are the only ones who don't have to pay. There are about 20 films in the competition, but they show other films which are being released this year, such as the Coens' "Burn after reading", shorts, re-prints of classic films (such as "The bicycle thieves") and tie-in with other film festivals (Such as the Udine Far East film festival contribution "Monster X strikes back: Attack the G8 summit!"). All up that means that about 30 films are showing each day on the Lido, 4 on Venice and 4 in Mestre (on the mainland). The films that are screened on the Lido usually screen in Venice and Mestre the following day. That's why we found ourselves in Mestre on a Saturday afternoon watching "Achilles and the Tortoise" by Takeshi Kitano. Good aspects of being in Lido to watch the film are that the cinema is quite new with good aircon and comfy seats. Another bonus of the Cityplex Palazzo in Mestre is the high-class gelateria two doors down from the cinema (GROM - highly recommended!). The cinema itself was very stark - you get your tickets on the street from a window, tiny candy bar, then go upstairs straight to the projection room. No chairs, nowhere to wait, nothing to read. Very accommodating...
Takeshi Kitano's "Achilles and the Tortoise" is the latest in his current series of "sentimental" films (Margaret Pomeranz's word) which can be described as slow-moving and dreary sketches of ordinary life (in Japan, anyway). I disagree - the films that Kitano makes have the quality of expressionist paintings - and a bit of wikipedia searching showed that since a motorcycle accident Kitano has taken up painting and his recent films contain his paintings. In A&T the paintings are the film, it's subject is a man whose only aim in life is to make art: painting, drawing, sculpting obsessively. If anything the film shows how oblivious the artist is to everything else in life - the great changes in Japanese society from the artist's birth in the fifties through to now, when the film ends.
The artist is the son of a wealthy Japanese silk merchant, a patron of the arts whose house is filled with modernist paintings and regularly visited by modernist painters. The boy spends all of his time painting and drawing: chickens, rabbits, trains (a surprising flashback to the art brut experience). The artist's social status makes him an untouchable - allowed to wander out of class 'to go drawing' whenever he wants to. It's obvious the boy has talent, the paintings are bright, expressive and juvenile but clearly they have merit.
The artist's situation changes suddenly when the silk business collapses and the creditors step in - his parents go harakiri and the artist suddenly finds himself living with an unpleasant uncle
doing farm chores and denied his pastels. Even in this environment the boy finds bohemian friends and manages to find plenty of opportunities to do art. After a couple of months, the uncle has had enough and the artist gets shipped off to an orphanage in the city. The artists return to the city is closed by the death of his bohemian friend - a half-blind peasant who sits besides the fields and draws day after day - who's hit by a bus.
The overwhelming frequency of suicides in the film is startling. This may be from the cultural aspects of suicide in Japan, or a larger reference to the practice of art as a consuming passion, one which sees them close to the edges of society, acceptability, sanity. The film is a very personal and emotional view of a life lived with passion and determination - the artist is consumed by his work and it oftens drives him to the limits of survival...his university street art period in the 70's, and later experiments in shock art with his wife being very funny episodes in the film. The appearance of the Tokyo Shock Boys repeats this theme of people committing themselves viscerally to their passions - or alternately of people being consumed by their passions, losing reason and ending up dead in a bath while trying to find inspiration from oxygen deprivation. Takeshi straddles this line - while showing huge sympathy and solidarity with the artist and his wife he also acknowledges their daughter's shame, distance and embarrassment deriving from the antics of her certifiable parents.
The title of the film, "Achilles and the Tortoise" refers to a greek philosophical conundrum (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Achilles_and_the_tortoise) which is used as a metaphor for chasing an unattainable dream. Ultimately it is the unreasonable that makes things interesting, that produces change and confronts the assumptions and complacency of our lives. Kitano's film is certainly sentimental, but it is equally beautiful and heartfelt. In my opinion it would have been one of the contenders for best film or at least best screenplay.
Takeshi Kitano's "Achilles and the Tortoise" is the latest in his current series of "sentimental" films (Margaret Pomeranz's word) which can be described as slow-moving and dreary sketches of ordinary life (in Japan, anyway). I disagree - the films that Kitano makes have the quality of expressionist paintings - and a bit of wikipedia searching showed that since a motorcycle accident Kitano has taken up painting and his recent films contain his paintings. In A&T the paintings are the film, it's subject is a man whose only aim in life is to make art: painting, drawing, sculpting obsessively. If anything the film shows how oblivious the artist is to everything else in life - the great changes in Japanese society from the artist's birth in the fifties through to now, when the film ends.
The artist is the son of a wealthy Japanese silk merchant, a patron of the arts whose house is filled with modernist paintings and regularly visited by modernist painters. The boy spends all of his time painting and drawing: chickens, rabbits, trains (a surprising flashback to the art brut experience). The artist's social status makes him an untouchable - allowed to wander out of class 'to go drawing' whenever he wants to. It's obvious the boy has talent, the paintings are bright, expressive and juvenile but clearly they have merit.
The artist's situation changes suddenly when the silk business collapses and the creditors step in - his parents go harakiri and the artist suddenly finds himself living with an unpleasant uncle
doing farm chores and denied his pastels. Even in this environment the boy finds bohemian friends and manages to find plenty of opportunities to do art. After a couple of months, the uncle has had enough and the artist gets shipped off to an orphanage in the city. The artists return to the city is closed by the death of his bohemian friend - a half-blind peasant who sits besides the fields and draws day after day - who's hit by a bus.
The overwhelming frequency of suicides in the film is startling. This may be from the cultural aspects of suicide in Japan, or a larger reference to the practice of art as a consuming passion, one which sees them close to the edges of society, acceptability, sanity. The film is a very personal and emotional view of a life lived with passion and determination - the artist is consumed by his work and it oftens drives him to the limits of survival...his university street art period in the 70's, and later experiments in shock art with his wife being very funny episodes in the film. The appearance of the Tokyo Shock Boys repeats this theme of people committing themselves viscerally to their passions - or alternately of people being consumed by their passions, losing reason and ending up dead in a bath while trying to find inspiration from oxygen deprivation. Takeshi straddles this line - while showing huge sympathy and solidarity with the artist and his wife he also acknowledges their daughter's shame, distance and embarrassment deriving from the antics of her certifiable parents.
The title of the film, "Achilles and the Tortoise" refers to a greek philosophical conundrum (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Achilles_and_the_tortoise) which is used as a metaphor for chasing an unattainable dream. Ultimately it is the unreasonable that makes things interesting, that produces change and confronts the assumptions and complacency of our lives. Kitano's film is certainly sentimental, but it is equally beautiful and heartfelt. In my opinion it would have been one of the contenders for best film or at least best screenplay.
Sunday 31 August 2008
Review: "Burn after Reading" by Joel and Ethan Coen
Ali and I saw the Coen brothers' "Burn after Reading" last Thursday night in the open-air cinema at Campo San Polo. The venue was filled to capacity - that being about 700 people - of which I'd be interested to know how many were Italian and how many Venetian residents. The majority of films in the competition are only shown for two days (some for three days) and "Burn after Reading" had already been shown the previous night, to open the festival, so this was the last opportunity to see it until release which will happen in the US in a couple of weeks. Accordingly there was a long long line of people waiting for tickets, but that line could be avoided by buying an abbonamento for 6 tickets (total price 30 euros). The line had started forming about 6pm for the 7.30 opening of the ticket office to the 9pm film screening, so the abbonamento was a great idea and we could have a pizza between getting the ticket and watching the film.
The film centres around Brad Pitt and Frances McDormand who work in a gym as an airhead sports-junky personal trainer and single, body-image obsessed public relations officer, respectively. Things go wrong for the two when they discover the memoirs of ex-CIA agent Osbourne Cox (John Malkovich, disturbing as ever) and see that as the way to money and elective surgery. Well, "things go wrong" is a subjective concept in a Coen Brothers' film, since being in the film in the first place means your character will probably end up dead, like the statistically ill-fated Star Trek ensign. The two attempt to blackmail the CIA agent, then resort to even more desperate and hilarious gambits as things go steadily pearshaped. Frances McDormand is great as the Coens' archetypal protagonist, singlemindedly pursuing her objective of destructive surgery. Brad Pitt owns the screen with pure charisma, playing the airhead with panache and boundful energy.
A dash of "Intolerable Cruelty" is brought about with the converging plotline of Malkovich, his adulterous, bitchy GP wife (Tilda Swinton), a compulsively-cheating retired secret service agent (George Clooney) with whom Swinton is having the affair, and his wife who writes childrens' books (Elizabeth Marvel) - her month-long book tour allows Clooney's character plenty of time for infidelity. Divorces, fights, lawyers and financial double-crosses ensue in the hilarious yet disturbing Coens' style.
The Coens' film noir leaves me always thinking about guilt, blame, circumstance - there's usually an innocent or two in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like an experiment in natural selection - the innocent, the compulsive, the corrupted all go without judgement. All of that is balanced by the Coens' skill in crafting a compelling and at times hilarious story. Even if you are left emotionally destroyed, unable to sleep and cogitating pointlessly, you are still warmed by the experience of watching such artful filmmakers do what they do best.
There is one more external narrative to the film, which I won't go into. You'll find out about it when you see it - and enjoy it.
The film centres around Brad Pitt and Frances McDormand who work in a gym as an airhead sports-junky personal trainer and single, body-image obsessed public relations officer, respectively. Things go wrong for the two when they discover the memoirs of ex-CIA agent Osbourne Cox (John Malkovich, disturbing as ever) and see that as the way to money and elective surgery. Well, "things go wrong" is a subjective concept in a Coen Brothers' film, since being in the film in the first place means your character will probably end up dead, like the statistically ill-fated Star Trek ensign. The two attempt to blackmail the CIA agent, then resort to even more desperate and hilarious gambits as things go steadily pearshaped. Frances McDormand is great as the Coens' archetypal protagonist, singlemindedly pursuing her objective of destructive surgery. Brad Pitt owns the screen with pure charisma, playing the airhead with panache and boundful energy.
A dash of "Intolerable Cruelty" is brought about with the converging plotline of Malkovich, his adulterous, bitchy GP wife (Tilda Swinton), a compulsively-cheating retired secret service agent (George Clooney) with whom Swinton is having the affair, and his wife who writes childrens' books (Elizabeth Marvel) - her month-long book tour allows Clooney's character plenty of time for infidelity. Divorces, fights, lawyers and financial double-crosses ensue in the hilarious yet disturbing Coens' style.
The Coens' film noir leaves me always thinking about guilt, blame, circumstance - there's usually an innocent or two in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like an experiment in natural selection - the innocent, the compulsive, the corrupted all go without judgement. All of that is balanced by the Coens' skill in crafting a compelling and at times hilarious story. Even if you are left emotionally destroyed, unable to sleep and cogitating pointlessly, you are still warmed by the experience of watching such artful filmmakers do what they do best.
There is one more external narrative to the film, which I won't go into. You'll find out about it when you see it - and enjoy it.
Venice film fest part 1
The 65th Venice film festival (Mostra internazionale d'arte cinematografica) landed on Tuesday, meaning that film industry blow-ins, a couple of overpaid ad-men and a lot of jaded paparazzi get to enjoy the venice humidity between their hotel rooms and their restaurants. Did I mention the jaded blow-in residents?
First rule of enjoying the film festival is to remember that this is Italy - in a country dedicated to appearances, you're nobody. So today we went and visited the palazzo del cinema - waste of time. Great to see that the building does actually get used for two weeks of the year, because it's boarded up, closed for the other 50 weeks. Forget about going there to watch a movie (or even a film with subtitles) any other time because it's closed, because you're nobody and the subjects of Loreal ads are elsewhere. On a Sunday, there's not much to do there other than buy a "mostra" logo-ed beach towel or cloth bag or get something from the bar. The usual posters and stands by Loreal and Lancia saying "go away" and plenty of security to reinforce the feeling. The best thing you can do is write a little comment on a piece of paper and have it posted on a marquee - some of them are very apt, like the once that had a group of stickpeople at the entrance of the mostra saying "vaffanculo troppo caro".
So it seems to me that the mostra is the quintissential experience of Italian style over substance. Where Italy once had a groundbreaking, vibrant and truly innovative and meaningful film industry it now has dreadful placement-laden films filled with recycled face-lifted tv stars and mouthless bimbos, in cineplexes that show nothing challenging or inspiring. Perhaps the apex of this disregard to film culture is the dubbed film - why is it so threatening to show films in their original language and add subtitles? Why is it so difficult to show films in english, or with english subtitles, in a city so given over to tourism as Venice? Why is the palazzo del cinema so criminally underused as to be left empty for 50 weeks of the year, when on Thursday night over 700 people turned up to Campo San Polo to see the Coen Brothers' "Burn after reading" in english? For the city that has hosted an international film festival for the past 65 years, isn't it incongruous that there's only one cinema in the town, and no films screened with subtitles? How does the Italian film culture rejuvenate itself if there are so little opportunities for the public to see and enjoy films? Why are the cinemas treated as little more than viewing rooms, lacking couches, information, cafes, events...The stunning contrast between the availability, activity, patronage and enjoyability of cinemas between Australia and Italy mirrors the culture you find in those countries' film culture and filmmaking.
I think Ali has a similar gripe about the swimming pools...it might be argued that if Italy opened its swimming pools for the other 9 business hours of the day, then maybe there would be more Italian swimmers at the top of sport. Maybe if Venice opened its film palazzo for the other 50 weeks of the year, it would be a good start toward making exciting films again.
First rule of enjoying the film festival is to remember that this is Italy - in a country dedicated to appearances, you're nobody. So today we went and visited the palazzo del cinema - waste of time. Great to see that the building does actually get used for two weeks of the year, because it's boarded up, closed for the other 50 weeks. Forget about going there to watch a movie (or even a film with subtitles) any other time because it's closed, because you're nobody and the subjects of Loreal ads are elsewhere. On a Sunday, there's not much to do there other than buy a "mostra" logo-ed beach towel or cloth bag or get something from the bar. The usual posters and stands by Loreal and Lancia saying "go away" and plenty of security to reinforce the feeling. The best thing you can do is write a little comment on a piece of paper and have it posted on a marquee - some of them are very apt, like the once that had a group of stickpeople at the entrance of the mostra saying "vaffanculo troppo caro".
So it seems to me that the mostra is the quintissential experience of Italian style over substance. Where Italy once had a groundbreaking, vibrant and truly innovative and meaningful film industry it now has dreadful placement-laden films filled with recycled face-lifted tv stars and mouthless bimbos, in cineplexes that show nothing challenging or inspiring. Perhaps the apex of this disregard to film culture is the dubbed film - why is it so threatening to show films in their original language and add subtitles? Why is it so difficult to show films in english, or with english subtitles, in a city so given over to tourism as Venice? Why is the palazzo del cinema so criminally underused as to be left empty for 50 weeks of the year, when on Thursday night over 700 people turned up to Campo San Polo to see the Coen Brothers' "Burn after reading" in english? For the city that has hosted an international film festival for the past 65 years, isn't it incongruous that there's only one cinema in the town, and no films screened with subtitles? How does the Italian film culture rejuvenate itself if there are so little opportunities for the public to see and enjoy films? Why are the cinemas treated as little more than viewing rooms, lacking couches, information, cafes, events...The stunning contrast between the availability, activity, patronage and enjoyability of cinemas between Australia and Italy mirrors the culture you find in those countries' film culture and filmmaking.
I think Ali has a similar gripe about the swimming pools...it might be argued that if Italy opened its swimming pools for the other 9 business hours of the day, then maybe there would be more Italian swimmers at the top of sport. Maybe if Venice opened its film palazzo for the other 50 weeks of the year, it would be a good start toward making exciting films again.
Thursday 28 August 2008
Holidays holidays holidays holidays....and more holidays! The last couple of months have been pretty busy with so much holidaying and "relaxing myself" (one of my favourite incorrect italian - english translations made by my students) and even "making my skin brown" by "taking the sun". Ahhh yes. Respect to all my students for helping me understand how to have a fantastic holiday Italian style!
So, a cunning plan concocted by Paul and myself some time ago was to ship me off to his relatives on the eastern coast of Italy to a town called San Salvo in a region called Abruzzo for some intensive Italian speaking, eating and tanning. So I went to stay with the lovely Anna-Maria and family for the first week of August and I believe I achieved all three goals.....yes, I even obtained a luke-warm tan.
I was very grateful to receive such warm hospitality and my own personal guide, Andrea, the youngest son, who had returned from university for the summer holidays. I easily slotted into his holiday lifestyle for the six days of my visit. Get-up when you wake-up, watch the Italian MTV channel over breakfast, go to the beach, lie in the sun, go for a swim, lie in the sun some more, go for a walk, go back home for the family lunch, have a siesta, get-up when you wake-up, go back to the beach.....as above.....then go back for the family dinner, go for a walk or go back to the beach bars for a drink, go home to sleep, get-up when you wake up, go to the beach....etc. etc.
It was interesting to partake in the Italian beach culture which to me, is quite different from the Australian culture. It seems like a much more ritualistic activity in Italy invovling being beautiful, renting a spot on one of the privately owned sectons of the beach (you rent an umbrella and beach bed for a month or two which remains your exclusive spot for the whole of summer if you want), and finally, being beautiful. There is then much concern with tanning - even little children have tans which can be a bit confronting for a pale-skinned aussie like myself coming from a culture obsessed with avoiding skin cancer. No baggy tee-shirts or one-piece bathing costumes for any female under the age of 50 to be found. My bathing shorts must have been a humourous talking point for those on the front row.
The Adriatic sea is completely calm given it's sheltered position so no body-surfing, boogie boarding etc. My surfing dreams are unfortunately yet to be realised ;) It was of no surprise then that the translation of "I'm going to have a swim" is "faccio un bagno" - the direct english translation being "I'm making a bath". So anyway, I got right into making my baths and making my walks. I even "made" a shower of two at home.
So we spent a lot of time umbrella-hopping....Andrea was well connected down on the beach so we had a choice each day of people's spots that we could crash. I did get a little tired of pop music being blasted out of speakers onto the beach and the circling advertising cars blaring out messages about pizzas etc. Gave me a strange feeling of being exposed to propoganda messages circa WW2 but Paul and I don't know where this association comes from....can't recall being around for WW2.....maybe it was a film?
What else? The food was amazing of course, including my first porchetta party experience with an entire roasted pig.
I also had a fantastic trip out to the tremiti islands with Andrea where we took a boat around the islands into caves and dived off at a secluded spot with perfectly clear water. However the highlight was returning to the mainland 10 hours later to discover that what was once a carpark when we left had been transformed into a market.....with Andrea's car now right in the middle of it! Damn these agriculturalist, cottage-industrial, impromtu, keepin' it local-style Italians! We sheepishly appologised to the stall owners before making a quick getaway down the middle.
All in all, a fantastic experience and I'm looking forward to my next trip down south!
Tuesday 22 July 2008
Crazy days
The weather here in Venice seems to be settling down a little after crazy days of bright sunshine interrupted by clouds and the odd spot of hail. It's no longer stiflingly hot and humid and there seems to be a bit of moderation in the winds, so it's still nice to eat out on the fondamenta in the evenings but you don't feel compelled to drink litres of water in the process just to stay hydrated...
But rather than talking about the weather, I'd like to note that we've enjoyed visits from Happy Paul and Nic, Wim and Michiel and (still here) Renee and Eric. Having that many visitors in two weeks has made life a bit crazy but a lot of fun and it's always appreciated. We've been able to take advantage of the moment to travel around a bit as well as drag, push or cajole people into going to Padova whenever possible.
Photos up soon, as well as a special Redentore blog by the justifiably verbose Alison Brown.
Ciao, Paul.
Thursday 10 July 2008
Eating words
G'day tutti
As per usual, Dr. Blogalonga is out in front....hard to keep up.
The summer is in full-swing and I confess, I've had to eat my words somewhat about there not being enough music, events etc. in Venice. In fact, now there is too much for me to do and I just don't have the time to go to everything. Ahem. I smell hypocrisy....
We've discovered a really cool local band called Grimoon who play alternative type folk music with lots of keys (including a Farfisa!), violin, guitar etc. and a French singer. They also create their own short films to accompany the music. We also saw another group playing traditional Italian music on a boat in the canal outside one of our favourite drinking spots. Great atmosphere with some crazeeeeee regional Italian dancing going on. So yeah. Seems that when music is hapening in Venice, it happens in style!
The other two reasons why I've had less time to go out is because I now have my own keyboard (whoo hoo! so I'm back to feeling guilty about not practising enough!) and because I've been taking-on a lot of the students at the Oxford School who want to continue over the summer whilst all the other teachers (sensibily) take-off for holidays in Spain, Croatia etc. I'm the crazy Australian who's teaching over the summer holidays because to me, it still seems like it should be winter, in the middle of the year when I am (or should be) the most productive!!
Anyway, I'm loving teaching English. So far, most of my students have been adults from the various large companies in the Veneto region - particularly engineers - so I'm learning a lot from them about the operations of the port city - transport systems, customs, and oil / gas mining and refinery. I also have a lot of students at Telecom - one of the many telecommunication companies here. But this is another blog in itself...
Finally, my Italian is SLOWLY improving.....a fascinating yet frustrating experience. It really has helped me to understand the difficulties that my English students face.....and also how similar learning a language is to learning music (jazz particularly!). You need to understand the structure of the language....but if you only follow the rules, you sound rigid and unatural because the rules always change....but you can't just improvise on the spot unless you've practised some key phrases and vocab that you can adapt in the moment.....and then when you're out there performing, you have to think ahead, behind and in the moment all at once to predict, guess and say something appropriate at the right time in context. Normally for me this is an emphatic "Si!" or "va bene" or "O-kaay" or "Certo" or "Un macchiato, grazie".
And of course, the more you practice, the better the performance. BLAH!
As per usual, Dr. Blogalonga is out in front....hard to keep up.
The summer is in full-swing and I confess, I've had to eat my words somewhat about there not being enough music, events etc. in Venice. In fact, now there is too much for me to do and I just don't have the time to go to everything. Ahem. I smell hypocrisy....
We've discovered a really cool local band called Grimoon who play alternative type folk music with lots of keys (including a Farfisa!), violin, guitar etc. and a French singer. They also create their own short films to accompany the music. We also saw another group playing traditional Italian music on a boat in the canal outside one of our favourite drinking spots. Great atmosphere with some crazeeeeee regional Italian dancing going on. So yeah. Seems that when music is hapening in Venice, it happens in style!
The other two reasons why I've had less time to go out is because I now have my own keyboard (whoo hoo! so I'm back to feeling guilty about not practising enough!) and because I've been taking-on a lot of the students at the Oxford School who want to continue over the summer whilst all the other teachers (sensibily) take-off for holidays in Spain, Croatia etc. I'm the crazy Australian who's teaching over the summer holidays because to me, it still seems like it should be winter, in the middle of the year when I am (or should be) the most productive!!
Anyway, I'm loving teaching English. So far, most of my students have been adults from the various large companies in the Veneto region - particularly engineers - so I'm learning a lot from them about the operations of the port city - transport systems, customs, and oil / gas mining and refinery. I also have a lot of students at Telecom - one of the many telecommunication companies here. But this is another blog in itself...
Finally, my Italian is SLOWLY improving.....a fascinating yet frustrating experience. It really has helped me to understand the difficulties that my English students face.....and also how similar learning a language is to learning music (jazz particularly!). You need to understand the structure of the language....but if you only follow the rules, you sound rigid and unatural because the rules always change....but you can't just improvise on the spot unless you've practised some key phrases and vocab that you can adapt in the moment.....and then when you're out there performing, you have to think ahead, behind and in the moment all at once to predict, guess and say something appropriate at the right time in context. Normally for me this is an emphatic "Si!" or "va bene" or "O-kaay" or "Certo" or "Un macchiato, grazie".
And of course, the more you practice, the better the performance. BLAH!
Tuesday 8 July 2008
Birthday blog
Hi all, a little update for those of you who want to know what I did to celebrate my birthday on Saturday. The "celebration" really occurred from Friday through to Sunday, although Sunday evening was the hangover if one could apply a Bacchanalian analysis to the events that preceded.
Since getting back from Germany about mid-June the hot temperatures and dense humidity of Venice has been stifling. Wanting to get out of it for a bit, I'd started to think about spending the weekend out of Venice, up in the mountains and somewhere I hadn't been before. As it happened, the girls from my climbing course were planning a similar thing: Claudia proposed a weekend up in Alto Adige, her regione of origin, to go climbing and walking about this quite autonomous and unique part of Italy. Autonomous in the sense that it's autonomously governed and unique in the sense that the regione (state) has german as it's first language, was a part of austria as recently as the start of last century and happens to be smack-bang in the middle of the Italian Alps.
The weekend started early on Thursday night, when Francesca, Marta and I caught a train to Verona in order to take a regional train up through Trentino to Bolzano, where we met Claudia. Her home town is Lajen, set at 1100m a.s.l. and overlooking Ponte Gardena and a couple of nearby valleys 600m below. On Friday we travelled up Val de Funes to the Odles mountain chain where we went climbing for the day, on an outcrop of sitting around 2000m, at the feet of the mountains! We'd walked a few kilometers from the car to the mountains, past a meadow with a refuge and cows and their bells ringing persistently - reminding me of Raphael's birthday party up in the Swiss Alps. The weather was spectacular - warm and dry and a little cloudy, which ensured that we weren't too sunburned by the time we got back at the end of the day. Dinner was Knodler (an accent should be in there somewhere), a fist-sized ball of bread, cheese, garlic, greens and herbs which was cooked in a goulash-type broth. Delicious!
On Saturday we were up early again to go climbing at a wall near Bressanone, the next city up the valley after Bolzano. The climbing was different because the rocks were different. Compared to the dolomite of Friday, Bressanone was a rock wall (falesia) of weathered quartz, with fewer holes and more cracked, craggy and diagonal fissures which required a completely different mindset. From an analytical point of view it was interesting to see how climbing a different kind of rockface required a different approach toward what was acceptable as a handhold or a foothold. I had a nice sense of closure as the first climb we did was a chimney-pipe (4b) which was similar to the first climb I'd ever done in Tasmania, and I completed a really challenging 5c lead climb that involved a few voli, but I was glad to have stuck at it. In the afternoon, Ali came up from Venice (she'd been teaching on Friday) and we spent the arvo wandering around Bressanone, a fairytale-like town which instantly reminded me of the old-town of Munich, with it's southern German/Alpine style of buildings and small laneways. That afternoon we caught the bus back to Lajen and had a barbeque, celebrating my birthday with delicious strudel. We then did some drinking and dancing in town centre, where the local fire brigade where putting on a fundraising party. The only thing missing was the themesong of our 2008/2009 european experience: Opus' "Live is life".
Sunday we slept in and eventually went for a hike/walk/passegiata around the hills near Lajen, wandering past dairy farms and sunbathers until we got up to another refuge with a fantastic vista. It was nice to be able to practice some of the German words I'd learned in Bremerhaven and Munich: Hallo, choos, schlussel, kase and abfahrt, among others. By the early afternoon the weather was turning grey and nasty so we went back to Claudia's and had a nap until our train which was due to arrive at 16:15. We spent 50 minutes at the Ponte Gardena train station, listening to the pouring rain and watching a kid have fun with the rain while her stressed mum tried to keep it together. It was at that point that the hangover of the weekend party came to its head-splitting synthesis: the trains were striking.
It must be understood that in Italy and Europe, strikes are a part of daily life. In South America, strikes and protests seem to be occasions of solidarity and socialist advancement whereas they seem to have an overall dulling effect, at least for me. People on the trains and in the bus stations get frustrated over something that they have no control over - they can't get out and push the train, they can't step out and take over the switches, so instead they get frustrated and complain loudly about something that they can't control. My attitude is to prepare for a train trip that could be double the expected duration: a reasonable book and the ipod is enough to keep me occupied for any travel on European spatial scales. The 16:15 arrived at Ponte Gardena at 17:00 and suffice to say, we arrived in Venice 3 hours late about 11:00. The whole experience did provide a few laughs, such as the people who jumped off our train as it took an improvised 45 minute rest at Descenzano, deciding to run over to the Eurostar sitting on the other side of the platform. The murmurs of class angst at the well-lit Eurostars on the other side of the station which seemed to zoom on past while our cheapo regional train remained firmly set in the station waiting list. The funniest part was the three young chainsmokers trying to suck as much out of their cigs as possible between when the doors open at the station and when they close again - the boys were jumping over one another trying to get back onto the train before the doors slammed shut, dropping their cigs on each other in the mad rush of mixed loyalties between being on the train, deep lung smoking and not getting cigarette burns on their clothes...the Marx brothers couldn't have done better.
Sorry for the cynicism - it's 23.42 and I'm going to bed now.
Ciao, Paul.
Thursday 3 July 2008
Drinking games beside the canals of Venice
Hi all,
Quick blog to let you all know that the season of birthdays happens here in Italy too. Last night Ali and I were hanging out at the Rialto markets, celebrating the very recent birthdays of Francesco (Franz) my climbing instructor and Francesca (keka) a climbing friend. One of the very nice things about Europe is the very relaxed attitude to drinking and responsibility in public places. A group of kids with 3 litres of wine and a whole bunch of plastic cups, drinking quite close to a reasonably deep canal with no licenses, barriers, security or police checking, controlling and domineering. One of our favourite spots in Milan is the zone near to Naviglie where there are some Roman columns leftover from a building, which at night time is taken over by young people meeting, drinking, hanging out and socialising - on, around and between the thousands of years old ruins where people were probably doing much the same thing at much the same time of night back then too. Great to see and experience!
Anyway last night we got the chance to learn some fun drinking games. One I've decided to call "mezzo limone" which means "half (a) lemon". The drinkers sit in a circle, with the birthday boy called "capolimone". Each other person in the circle receives the name "un limone" (1 lemon), "due limone" (two lemons), "tre limoni" (three lemons), and so on. The capolimone goes first by saying (for example) "Capolimone mezzo limone due limone" (head lemon half lemon two lemons) as fast as possible. If he makes a mistake, he drinks. The player designated "due limone" or whatever number is called then has to say (for example) "Due limone mezzo limone quattro limone" (two lemons half lemon four lemons) and it becomes the turn of "quattro limone" to respond...make a mistake, drink. answer too slowly, drink. forget where you are, drown. The most common mistake I made was to say "mezzo melone" (half melon) instead of "mezzo limone" but I wasn't the only one...
The other drinking game we learnt involved the following song:
"Filome, Filome, voglio stare insieme a te.
Sul sofa, sul sofa, con lo ziggolo ziggolo ziggolo za!"
Maybe Ali can explain that one...
I'm going climbing this weekend around Bolzano, up in the Alps of Alto Adige, which is going to be a lot of fun. Ali's coming up on Friday or Saturday and it'll be nice to celebrate my birthday in good company...but it would have been nice to spend the time with family and friends in oz too.
Ciao, Paul.
Quick blog to let you all know that the season of birthdays happens here in Italy too. Last night Ali and I were hanging out at the Rialto markets, celebrating the very recent birthdays of Francesco (Franz) my climbing instructor and Francesca (keka) a climbing friend. One of the very nice things about Europe is the very relaxed attitude to drinking and responsibility in public places. A group of kids with 3 litres of wine and a whole bunch of plastic cups, drinking quite close to a reasonably deep canal with no licenses, barriers, security or police checking, controlling and domineering. One of our favourite spots in Milan is the zone near to Naviglie where there are some Roman columns leftover from a building, which at night time is taken over by young people meeting, drinking, hanging out and socialising - on, around and between the thousands of years old ruins where people were probably doing much the same thing at much the same time of night back then too. Great to see and experience!
Anyway last night we got the chance to learn some fun drinking games. One I've decided to call "mezzo limone" which means "half (a) lemon". The drinkers sit in a circle, with the birthday boy called "capolimone". Each other person in the circle receives the name "un limone" (1 lemon), "due limone" (two lemons), "tre limoni" (three lemons), and so on. The capolimone goes first by saying (for example) "Capolimone mezzo limone due limone" (head lemon half lemon two lemons) as fast as possible. If he makes a mistake, he drinks. The player designated "due limone" or whatever number is called then has to say (for example) "Due limone mezzo limone quattro limone" (two lemons half lemon four lemons) and it becomes the turn of "quattro limone" to respond...make a mistake, drink. answer too slowly, drink. forget where you are, drown. The most common mistake I made was to say "mezzo melone" (half melon) instead of "mezzo limone" but I wasn't the only one...
The other drinking game we learnt involved the following song:
"Filome, Filome, voglio stare insieme a te.
Sul sofa, sul sofa, con lo ziggolo ziggolo ziggolo za!"
Maybe Ali can explain that one...
I'm going climbing this weekend around Bolzano, up in the Alps of Alto Adige, which is going to be a lot of fun. Ali's coming up on Friday or Saturday and it'll be nice to celebrate my birthday in good company...but it would have been nice to spend the time with family and friends in oz too.
Ciao, Paul.
Sunday 8 June 2008
A 53º (N) cycle
It's been an interesting stay here in Bremerhaven so far - Bremerhaven is a port that sits on a river 30 km away from Bremen, which may or may not have been a place you've read about on a label of Becks beer. Considering that Bremerhaven has been relegated that historical position of being the lifeless satellite orbiting the quite-lively planet Bremen, it's not doing a bad job of reinventing itself as a centre of polar and ocean research, spicing it up a bit with an immigration museum, straight-outta-Dubai sail-shaped hotel and the yet to be completed Klimahaus, which will be a museum dedicated to climate, changing climate and variability found along the longitude of Bremerhaven - 8º East. For nightlife, graffitti and contemporary culture, refer to Bremen.
...but the weather has been compliant and today's blue skies and balmy weather invited me to go for a cycle up the coast - originally a very long way, but the headwind and dodgeyness of the bike helped me decide to go easy. Besides, there's nothing worse than working in a coldroom with aching legs as well as numbing fingers and toes...makes it hard to concentrate on not dropping the ice cores or pushing too hard through the bandsaw...
Anyway, I found it interesting how the countryside on the otherside of the car- and container-processing port facility was so mixed up compared to our very linear and organised Australian landscapes. It's almost as if we can't accept fields with cows and wind turbines in the background.
or tidal plains mixed up with container loading cranes:
Landscapes that seemed miraculous here would be labelled..."eyesores" back home...
Gotta go watch a football (soccer) match now. Ciao! Paul.
...but the weather has been compliant and today's blue skies and balmy weather invited me to go for a cycle up the coast - originally a very long way, but the headwind and dodgeyness of the bike helped me decide to go easy. Besides, there's nothing worse than working in a coldroom with aching legs as well as numbing fingers and toes...makes it hard to concentrate on not dropping the ice cores or pushing too hard through the bandsaw...
Anyway, I found it interesting how the countryside on the otherside of the car- and container-processing port facility was so mixed up compared to our very linear and organised Australian landscapes. It's almost as if we can't accept fields with cows and wind turbines in the background.
or tidal plains mixed up with container loading cranes:
Landscapes that seemed miraculous here would be labelled..."eyesores" back home...
Gotta go watch a football (soccer) match now. Ciao! Paul.
Monday 2 June 2008
North of Germany
Hi all,
Long time between posts but just a quick update from here in Bremerhaven where I'm sub-sampling the Talos Dome ice core with a mixed group of students and scientists. The ice core from Talos Dome is the material that I'm working on for my fellowship, and while it has already been drilled, there remains about 600m of 1-metre long tubes of ice which need to be cut into square or triangular pieces for all the collaborating labs (my piece is square). Yesterday I got in to Bremerhaven after a few days in Munich, and I'm happy to indulge in such decadent pleasures as muesli and cycling...the hedonism!
Considering we just started this morning we got 37 metres processed today, so I'm expecting us to get at least 60 m done tomorrow. Took some photos but I still have to transfer them off the camera - hopefully have them up soon. Quite nice here but Bremerhaven is a very sleepy little town and I haven't seen a huge amount to recommend...but you can walk through a WW2 U-boat in the harbour which is an interesting experience of the cramped spaces and technology of the time.
Enough from me for now!
Ciao, Paul.
Long time between posts but just a quick update from here in Bremerhaven where I'm sub-sampling the Talos Dome ice core with a mixed group of students and scientists. The ice core from Talos Dome is the material that I'm working on for my fellowship, and while it has already been drilled, there remains about 600m of 1-metre long tubes of ice which need to be cut into square or triangular pieces for all the collaborating labs (my piece is square). Yesterday I got in to Bremerhaven after a few days in Munich, and I'm happy to indulge in such decadent pleasures as muesli and cycling...the hedonism!
Considering we just started this morning we got 37 metres processed today, so I'm expecting us to get at least 60 m done tomorrow. Took some photos but I still have to transfer them off the camera - hopefully have them up soon. Quite nice here but Bremerhaven is a very sleepy little town and I haven't seen a huge amount to recommend...but you can walk through a WW2 U-boat in the harbour which is an interesting experience of the cramped spaces and technology of the time.
Enough from me for now!
Ciao, Paul.
Sunday 25 May 2008
Looking for what's underneath...
Hi Everyone!
Sorry it's been so long between posts. As most of you know, I ducked back to Australia for the Superengine tour and so have spent the last month here just getting settled again! Anyway, it was great to see so many of you when I was back and awesome to find out that people actually read the blog!! I know that brevity is not my strongest point so it was nice to know that people are reading it, and (to my amazement) enjoying the waffle!! You know who you are....Anyway, I can't help but write regardless as there is so much to write about.....hard to know what to focus on.
So....I've decided to focus on Music! Yes folks, that is our topic for today's blog.
Given that music has been such a large part of my life and particularly so last year when I was playing in three groups in Perth, resulting in an average of three rehearsals a week, a gig and maybe watching a gig on my off night, it has taken some getting used to being without an obvious local music scene here in Venice.
Despite my intitial despair, Paul's encouragement and my improving Italian has enbaled me to start to consider / explore some of the less obvious, dare I say "underground" and one-off events happening in the Veneto region. I feel a sense of hope at last!
Of course I am speaking of original, experiemental, grass-roots-esque type music.....Vivaldi's Four Seasons continues to be performed every night and there are an abundance of classical concerts and operas to attend in amazing buildings. Good ol' mumsie paid for an outing to see "La Traviata" whilst she was here in Venice and to me, it was just incredible. Performed in a 18th century style salon.....intimate setting, limited set, and just amazing skilled performances.
In fact, it's not uncommon to experience operatic voices flowing over the piazzas / campos as you round a corner late at night. Truly otherworldly! In Milan we had the pleasure of supping on a couple of machiatti whilst listening to live opera from the opera school across the piazza. And Carnivale was just amazing for live music of all types.....now Biennale is just around the corner too which will bring even more high class music to the island.
So anyway, it's been of some surprise to me that a country with such a rich classical music history doesn't seem to be producing any decent modern music! Big statment I know and surely ignorant and completely unjustified, but on the surface, this would appear to be the case.....at least in Venice. Not helped by terrible television and radio stations that all seem pretty mainstream.....no doubt a problem caused by Burlesconi's monopoly over the media.
But in Venice, live, local music is definitely an issue and highlights the tension between the residents, the students and the tourists! The tourists want their Four Seasons and quiet, romantic gondola rides.....and maybe even a bit of over-priced jazz for the more trendy of cats. The students want places to party and listen to live music, and the residents want to get rid of everyone and everything that causes noise!
So it was very encouraging to learn about a group called "Bandita" (linked to another music organisation called Rivolta.....according to Paul there's a bit of political, socialist influence going on with these groups too). The Banditas have managed to lease a building near the bus station (so as not to cause noise) and put gigs on.....not an easy feat. It's hard enough to maintain local music venues in Perth let alone in a historic, tourist driven city such as Venice.
We went to the opening night a couple of weeks ago.....turned up about 9.30 and there were maybe 20 people there - the music wasn't starting until about 11pm so we had a long wait ahead of us.....BUT we were distracted by the police arriving 10 minutes after we got there and having to provide our documenti (passport, current address, planned names of our unborn children etc.).......just to go to a gig......a gig that hadn't even started......that wasn't even attended by anyone yet.
Couldn't help but wonder where these "police officers" were when we were getting crushed to death at the opening night of carnivale.
So apparently the Banditas had to cut some deal with the police in order to put on the gig. They get to put on the gigs and the police can access and ask for everyones details. Couldn't help but feel a great invasion of privacy!! But I now certainly feel a sense of committment to the cause of the Banditas and bringing live music to tha island! Viva la rivolta!
Anyway, things are picking up with the summer season. I just need to keep on trying to decipher those street posters and discover what's going on underneath......a challenge that applies to everything here in Italy!
Sorry it's been so long between posts. As most of you know, I ducked back to Australia for the Superengine tour and so have spent the last month here just getting settled again! Anyway, it was great to see so many of you when I was back and awesome to find out that people actually read the blog!! I know that brevity is not my strongest point so it was nice to know that people are reading it, and (to my amazement) enjoying the waffle!! You know who you are....Anyway, I can't help but write regardless as there is so much to write about.....hard to know what to focus on.
So....I've decided to focus on Music! Yes folks, that is our topic for today's blog.
Given that music has been such a large part of my life and particularly so last year when I was playing in three groups in Perth, resulting in an average of three rehearsals a week, a gig and maybe watching a gig on my off night, it has taken some getting used to being without an obvious local music scene here in Venice.
Despite my intitial despair, Paul's encouragement and my improving Italian has enbaled me to start to consider / explore some of the less obvious, dare I say "underground" and one-off events happening in the Veneto region. I feel a sense of hope at last!
Of course I am speaking of original, experiemental, grass-roots-esque type music.....Vivaldi's Four Seasons continues to be performed every night and there are an abundance of classical concerts and operas to attend in amazing buildings. Good ol' mumsie paid for an outing to see "La Traviata" whilst she was here in Venice and to me, it was just incredible. Performed in a 18th century style salon.....intimate setting, limited set, and just amazing skilled performances.
In fact, it's not uncommon to experience operatic voices flowing over the piazzas / campos as you round a corner late at night. Truly otherworldly! In Milan we had the pleasure of supping on a couple of machiatti whilst listening to live opera from the opera school across the piazza. And Carnivale was just amazing for live music of all types.....now Biennale is just around the corner too which will bring even more high class music to the island.
So anyway, it's been of some surprise to me that a country with such a rich classical music history doesn't seem to be producing any decent modern music! Big statment I know and surely ignorant and completely unjustified, but on the surface, this would appear to be the case.....at least in Venice. Not helped by terrible television and radio stations that all seem pretty mainstream.....no doubt a problem caused by Burlesconi's monopoly over the media.
But in Venice, live, local music is definitely an issue and highlights the tension between the residents, the students and the tourists! The tourists want their Four Seasons and quiet, romantic gondola rides.....and maybe even a bit of over-priced jazz for the more trendy of cats. The students want places to party and listen to live music, and the residents want to get rid of everyone and everything that causes noise!
So it was very encouraging to learn about a group called "Bandita" (linked to another music organisation called Rivolta.....according to Paul there's a bit of political, socialist influence going on with these groups too). The Banditas have managed to lease a building near the bus station (so as not to cause noise) and put gigs on.....not an easy feat. It's hard enough to maintain local music venues in Perth let alone in a historic, tourist driven city such as Venice.
We went to the opening night a couple of weeks ago.....turned up about 9.30 and there were maybe 20 people there - the music wasn't starting until about 11pm so we had a long wait ahead of us.....BUT we were distracted by the police arriving 10 minutes after we got there and having to provide our documenti (passport, current address, planned names of our unborn children etc.).......just to go to a gig......a gig that hadn't even started......that wasn't even attended by anyone yet.
Couldn't help but wonder where these "police officers" were when we were getting crushed to death at the opening night of carnivale.
So apparently the Banditas had to cut some deal with the police in order to put on the gig. They get to put on the gigs and the police can access and ask for everyones details. Couldn't help but feel a great invasion of privacy!! But I now certainly feel a sense of committment to the cause of the Banditas and bringing live music to tha island! Viva la rivolta!
Anyway, things are picking up with the summer season. I just need to keep on trying to decipher those street posters and discover what's going on underneath......a challenge that applies to everything here in Italy!
Monday 7 April 2008
Nice things in Belgium
Hi everyone, just a few notes from here in Ghent/Gent/Gand about what I'm up to and what I've seen.
Firstly, everything in Belgium is repeated in different languages. Great for assisting your multilingual ability but in the case of place names it does get confusing. I wonder how much of the GDP is wasted simply in the physical production of multiple languages on every sign, window, announcement, subtitle, office, business card and shopping docket. Hmm, maybe it increases the GDP? Perhaps Australia would have a larger economy if it was bilingual?...hmm, scary.
Let's move on to nicer things:
1) Door handles - I've spotted quite a few really cool door handles just up and down the street that I'm staying on. Venice has interesting door handles and doors in general but these ones here in Gent are funky.
2) Fish-scale buildings - Many buildings here have this diamond-shaped cladding on the walls which is the perfect grey colour to make me think of fish scales, and giant fish sticking out of the ground, every time I see them.
3) Mobile phone companies - Every time I check my phone there's the name "PROXIMUS" or "BASE" on it. Unfortunately neither of them will let me receive text messages from Ali or send them to her.
4) General Belgian organisedness - This isn't exclusive to Belgium but after a spell in Italy it's great to be in a country where stuff works and is organised to work. Perhaps it's a little too organised, but there are bike lanes everywhere, as well as footpaths, and when you have to cross the road there are separate sets of lights for people, bikes and cars. Also a result of being in Italy, I'm not letting myself get too comfortable around crosswalks - I know they'll mean nothing again when I get back there. The final great thing about Belgian organisedness is the pissoir - I think Paris is more famous for them but they are much more useful in Belgium on account of all the great beer there is to drink - very handy, solar powered (really) and located in handy places like main thoroughfares and the drinking parts of the city.
Yesterday I went on a daytrip to Brugge, and I've been around Gent pretty well in the last week but that's all that I'll see of Belgium - on Saturday I'll train straight back to the airport without time for Brussels. Didn't get a chance to go cycling either - but at least I tried out a Belgian climbing wall (Ironically, they're higher here than in Venice). Gent is a really beautiful town with a bit of everything - medieval wonders and nightlife and shops and musea and plenty of good pubs and restaurants - on top of the usual Belgian highlights of beer and chocolate. I agree with Eric that there's a lot of good things to visit in Belgium, and I'm happy to have left some for next time.
Ciao, Paul.
Firstly, everything in Belgium is repeated in different languages. Great for assisting your multilingual ability but in the case of place names it does get confusing. I wonder how much of the GDP is wasted simply in the physical production of multiple languages on every sign, window, announcement, subtitle, office, business card and shopping docket. Hmm, maybe it increases the GDP? Perhaps Australia would have a larger economy if it was bilingual?...hmm, scary.
Let's move on to nicer things:
1) Door handles - I've spotted quite a few really cool door handles just up and down the street that I'm staying on. Venice has interesting door handles and doors in general but these ones here in Gent are funky.
2) Fish-scale buildings - Many buildings here have this diamond-shaped cladding on the walls which is the perfect grey colour to make me think of fish scales, and giant fish sticking out of the ground, every time I see them.
3) Mobile phone companies - Every time I check my phone there's the name "PROXIMUS" or "BASE" on it. Unfortunately neither of them will let me receive text messages from Ali or send them to her.
4) General Belgian organisedness - This isn't exclusive to Belgium but after a spell in Italy it's great to be in a country where stuff works and is organised to work. Perhaps it's a little too organised, but there are bike lanes everywhere, as well as footpaths, and when you have to cross the road there are separate sets of lights for people, bikes and cars. Also a result of being in Italy, I'm not letting myself get too comfortable around crosswalks - I know they'll mean nothing again when I get back there. The final great thing about Belgian organisedness is the pissoir - I think Paris is more famous for them but they are much more useful in Belgium on account of all the great beer there is to drink - very handy, solar powered (really) and located in handy places like main thoroughfares and the drinking parts of the city.
Yesterday I went on a daytrip to Brugge, and I've been around Gent pretty well in the last week but that's all that I'll see of Belgium - on Saturday I'll train straight back to the airport without time for Brussels. Didn't get a chance to go cycling either - but at least I tried out a Belgian climbing wall (Ironically, they're higher here than in Venice). Gent is a really beautiful town with a bit of everything - medieval wonders and nightlife and shops and musea and plenty of good pubs and restaurants - on top of the usual Belgian highlights of beer and chocolate. I agree with Eric that there's a lot of good things to visit in Belgium, and I'm happy to have left some for next time.
Ciao, Paul.
Saturday 29 March 2008
hello in belgo
First experiences of Belgium - Bemusement at the labelling of a person on the airport concourse in front of me: he was wearing a 'Stella Artois' jacket and a Tintin backpack; Mirth at the idea that there's a Belgian Beer Cafe even in Brussels airport, Excitement at the abundance of chocolatiers, Concern when trying to understand the train timetables.
Nonetheless I managed to cross the language divides and arrived here in Gent. I haven't been into the town centre yet but it seems like a very nice, organised, well-functioning western european city: bike lanes, traffic lights, fritjeries (fried food shops), big supermarkets. If I were in the french-speaking part of Belgium then I might have a chance with the language but being here in the dutch part I'm forced to learn some extra words. Any clues on pronouncing alstublieft, please?
Last night I was tired from the early wakeup that morning, so I contented myself with a wander around the local supermarket and bought the delights shown in the photo above. Perhaps another mark of your modern western suburbium is the impossibly overstocked supermarket, catering for every market: so it was great to see, and then be able to buy, fresh bread in loaves, different cheeses like Rochefort (with mould that actually looked and tasted like mould), Normandie Brie, types (!) of muesli, and even some belgian beer (only leffes, chimay, grimbergen, kwak, some lambics, nothing too exotic).
So, greetings from the land of the fry and waffle. Tried a waffle this morning (just a plain one) and will go around walking for most of the day to try and justify some fries for dinner, or maybe lunch...
Ciao, Paul.
Monday 17 March 2008
Climbing up to the Moon
While listening to the Eels' album 'Electrochock blues', I've been preparing the latest website addition - some photos of my first Italian climbing outing, last Saturday at a local climbing site, about 45 minutes out of Venice. It was a lot of fun to actually be climbing real rocks and hanging off real cliffs compared to the rather sedate and knowingly safe climbing wall in the gym. Your approach to climbing changes completely when there are no obvious brightly-coloured bumps sticking out of the flat wall - instead you seem to feel your way along, testing every little cranny for the chance that your hand might be able to grip onto it and your foot might be able to not slip off...as I said, good fun, as long as you assume that the spiders that made that web are just gonna keep on sleeping, and the bees that made that nest are just gonna keep on nesting...
Before going to Belgium next week I've got to sort out my electoral enrolment - Italians are going back to the polls to decide on a new government (or non-government, depending on how you see it...) and now that I'm an Italian citizen I thought I might as well get my vote in...who knows - it might be my only chance in the two years that I'll be here! That's not a common occurrence - Italian governments have a short lifetime and rarely last much longer than a year before they collapse through coalitions splitting, ministers resigning over criminal charges or just spontaneous combustion. Lots of people are concerned that Berlusconi will get back in as prime minister, although the left coalition has a reasonable chance of making up a majority. Unlike Australia, there is too much political discussion in Italy - the newspapers and television are full of political commentaries and talk shows, respectively, which makes it difficult to know really what the larger public are thinking - all the media reports is opinion, which is only marginally less helpful than statistics.
Sorry about the rambling nature of this blog - I've been meaning to write a bit about Italian politics for a while, as well as Neapolitan rubbish, but too many other things get in the way. Like going to Abruzzo this weekend to visit rellies, and going to Belgium next week. I'll get back just in time for the elections - if I get myself enrolled.
Ciao, Paul.
Before going to Belgium next week I've got to sort out my electoral enrolment - Italians are going back to the polls to decide on a new government (or non-government, depending on how you see it...) and now that I'm an Italian citizen I thought I might as well get my vote in...who knows - it might be my only chance in the two years that I'll be here! That's not a common occurrence - Italian governments have a short lifetime and rarely last much longer than a year before they collapse through coalitions splitting, ministers resigning over criminal charges or just spontaneous combustion. Lots of people are concerned that Berlusconi will get back in as prime minister, although the left coalition has a reasonable chance of making up a majority. Unlike Australia, there is too much political discussion in Italy - the newspapers and television are full of political commentaries and talk shows, respectively, which makes it difficult to know really what the larger public are thinking - all the media reports is opinion, which is only marginally less helpful than statistics.
Sorry about the rambling nature of this blog - I've been meaning to write a bit about Italian politics for a while, as well as Neapolitan rubbish, but too many other things get in the way. Like going to Abruzzo this weekend to visit rellies, and going to Belgium next week. I'll get back just in time for the elections - if I get myself enrolled.
Ciao, Paul.
Friday 14 March 2008
What's in your garden?
Coming home the other day, I discovered that something new had happened in the Hillton hood. Someone had decided to put some strange things in our garden, like two sports cars, a musical spa and a miniature ranch! In addition to the luxury cruising yachts parked on the other side of the building and a couple more luxury cars and boats out on the fondamenta these postmodern garden gnomes are the attractions for the "passion" expo at the hotel this weekend. A bit of a surprise, I have to admit. Anyway, I suppose it means that we can expect strange happenings to happen in our garden this summer with some regularity...
Otherwise, not that much to say: Ali and I are busy with work and planning our respective travels (Ali about Australia with Superengine and myself to Gent and Vienna for work). We're planning to go down to Vasto for Easter to visit my rellies and are just beginning with forward planning of summertime visitors and gigs, so if you want to visit us get in quick with a booking! The website has been updated with some new photos (particularly of carnevale) and of course the coming weeks will provide opportunities for many more...providing that I don't fall off a mountain when I go rockclimbing tomorrow!
Ciao, Paul.
Sunday 2 March 2008
Carnevale!
I've fallen behind with my blogg-a-log-ing....I'm not as efficient, brief or reliable as Dr. Paul "Blog-a-longa".
So.....Carnevale.....I'll have to cast my mind back because it was four weeks ago now and so much has happened since!
Carnevale has been celebrated in Venice since the 13th century and marks the period leading up to Lent. The exact translation of "carnevale" is apparently debated (thank you Wikipedia) but the translation that makes the most sense to me is "farewell to meat"....a celebration of food and good times prior to the fasting of Lent.
The start date of Carnevale is always 40 days before Easter....and with an early Easter this year came an early Carnevale. Carnevale lasts for 11 days and finishes on Martedi Grasso (Fat Tuesday). It seems that Venice really comes alive during Carnevale. Normally Venice is very touristy but during Carnevale, the island is completely taken over for two weeks. During this time it's rare to hear much Italian spoken. There appeared to be a lot of people who go all out - staying in expensive hotels, dressing up in Baroque costumes and having their photographs taken.....by other toursits....like me.
So Carnevale was a massive party. We spent most nights just walking around the streets from one campo (piazza) to the next and soaking in the free music, drinking vin brulee and eating the traditional sweet of Carnevale, frittelle (basically small doughnuts.....but ohhhhhh so good!). Frittelle are only available during Carnevale so I over-indulged a little.....my jumper still smells like cinnamon from spilling vin brulee and frittelle on myself. Oh the shame.
This year a focus for the entertainment was Romanian music / art. Another focus was the theme of "six sensations" for the six sestieri (sections) of Venice. Highlights for me were therefore watching the Bucharest Philharmonic Orchestra for free in Piazza San Marco, and the experience of being led around a completely dark room by a blind Italian woman - the idea being to experience what it is like to be blind and to awaken your other senses! Of course I was missing two of my senses because I couldn't understand all of the Italian instructions!
However, one of the most interesting moments of Carnevale was at the beginning - the opening party. The background to this story is that the week prior to Carnevale, sadly, two Venetian warfies were killed unloading a ship containing maize.....I'm not entirely certain of the science, but there was some form of combustion in the shipping containers leading to the emmission of gas and the two workers died from asphyxiation. As a sign of respect, the start of Carnevale was postponed until 12am Saturday night. My italian teacher informed me that deaths at work are a significant political issue here in Italy - apparently 2 workers are killed on the job in Italy each day. It was impressive to see the level of respect that was paid to the workers.....flags were flown at half mast and some businesses were shut for the day.
However this meant that there was some uncertainty about the opening of the 'opening party' - a five room electronica / dance music spectacular that had been widely advertised. Paul and I discovered from looking at the website that we had to buy tickets......information that was missing from all the posters plastered all over Venice!!! We had assumed it was free like everything else. We also discovered that the time of the opening party had been pushed back two hours so that it would start at 12am.
So we go to buy tickets at 5pm to be told that there were none left. Paul didn't believe this and Erika was also unaware of the need for a ticket.....so we went to the party anyway. We were confronted with hundreds of people outside the doors of the pavillion and very little security to be seen. In fact the only official person to be seen whilst we were getting crushed in the crowd was perched on a gate taking photographs of everyone being crushed to death.
Paul and I were thinking....."So do we need a ticket? Where are they selling tickets? Do these people next to us have tickets? Are we going to get all the way to the entrance only to be turned away? Are we going to die?" etc.
So rather than dragging out the story any further, we got in, we survived. It was only in the coming days that we came to understand all the drama. They had planned for 2,000 people.....5,000 people turned up.....the gate was pushed in.....people pushed their way through the entrance.....no more cover charge.....bad luck to those people who bought a ticket......they compensated by rising the price of drinks at the bar to 10 euros each.....people had to wait up to an hour to reclaim their jacket from the cloak room......toilets couldn't be found so people created their own (this one I saw myself).....etc.
And it was only on our way out, high from the adrenalin of surviving, did we finally see some security. About 15 police officers standing in a circle about 50 - 100 metres back from the entrance....just chatting.
Ahhhhhh yeah. Italy will toughen me up for sure.
Monday 25 February 2008
Australia Day 2008 - One month on...
Hi Everyone,
This is the first of a month's worth of blogs to catch up on all the busy things Ali and I have been up to lately. I guess it's one of those situations in which you're too occupied doing stuff to keep the blog on. Enough whingeing, here's the news:
A nice little Australia Day party was held in the apartment a month ago to celebrate all the greatness of Australian culture and achievement, and for the purposes of introducing Ali to some of my work colleagues and showing off the house. We managed to keep people distracted by painting up a traditional venetian mask in Aussie flag colours (just in time for carnevale!) and passing around the unofficial Australian Citizenship test (if you haven't done it yet let me know and I'll email it to you). Being mostly chemists, they came up with the other standard definition of "mole". Anyway that was just a primer before the food came out...
A proper selection of Australian food was of the utmost priority, the only problem being that we didn't have an oven available! That cut out all the favourites (you know, pavlova, pies, roast barramundi, Anzacs, roo tail...) so we had to improvise. Our Aussie culinary experience consisted of vegemite on toast, Cheese-Ham-Pineapple stacks (which were a bit too much because we foolishly used Gruyere in the absence of plain old cheddar), Macadamia nuts, Garlic prawns and Chocolate crackles, accompanied by Coopers Pale Ale and Stouts (found on the website of a beer shop in Milan!). All that was finished up with some Tim-tams posted by my parents, but sadly we didn't have Milo to drink with/through it.
A bit of poetic license was applied to the chocolate crackles, which we re-named "roo-poo" given the similarity in colour if not size. They came out a lot more chocolatey than we wanted because you can't get Copha in Italy and we couldn't find vegetable shortening so we had to use a chocolate-butter substitute...so they were more like chocolate crackle brownies in the end, but tastey nonetheless. A bit of a shock to have leftovers but they were all eaten the following Monday by Ali's italian language schoolmates...
Ali and I were pretty happy with the spread but it's funny that just one month later we've learned so much more: that you can get Copha, Tim tams, Coopers, Little Creatures and Milo online from shops in the UK; that you can buy kangaroo from the London Borough markets; that the Italians have a creation similar to chocolate crackles but using molten mars bars instead of chocolate/butter/copha type coagulating agents, and that italian toasters do a really crap job of making toast. On the flip side, we're now very happy to be able to say that our government has apologised to the stolen generations and ratified the Kyoto protocol and moved to advance other similarly intelligent and morally decent initiatives.
Since Australia day we've "cooked" ceviche, tried out Venice's only Argentinean restaurant, experienced Venice's Carnevale, gone to the UK, Ali finished her language course and started working and last weekend I did some cross-country skiing! Hopefully it'll all appear in blogs soon.
Ciao, Paul.
This is the first of a month's worth of blogs to catch up on all the busy things Ali and I have been up to lately. I guess it's one of those situations in which you're too occupied doing stuff to keep the blog on. Enough whingeing, here's the news:
A nice little Australia Day party was held in the apartment a month ago to celebrate all the greatness of Australian culture and achievement, and for the purposes of introducing Ali to some of my work colleagues and showing off the house. We managed to keep people distracted by painting up a traditional venetian mask in Aussie flag colours (just in time for carnevale!) and passing around the unofficial Australian Citizenship test (if you haven't done it yet let me know and I'll email it to you). Being mostly chemists, they came up with the other standard definition of "mole". Anyway that was just a primer before the food came out...
A proper selection of Australian food was of the utmost priority, the only problem being that we didn't have an oven available! That cut out all the favourites (you know, pavlova, pies, roast barramundi, Anzacs, roo tail...) so we had to improvise. Our Aussie culinary experience consisted of vegemite on toast, Cheese-Ham-Pineapple stacks (which were a bit too much because we foolishly used Gruyere in the absence of plain old cheddar), Macadamia nuts, Garlic prawns and Chocolate crackles, accompanied by Coopers Pale Ale and Stouts (found on the website of a beer shop in Milan!). All that was finished up with some Tim-tams posted by my parents, but sadly we didn't have Milo to drink with/through it.
A bit of poetic license was applied to the chocolate crackles, which we re-named "roo-poo" given the similarity in colour if not size. They came out a lot more chocolatey than we wanted because you can't get Copha in Italy and we couldn't find vegetable shortening so we had to use a chocolate-butter substitute...so they were more like chocolate crackle brownies in the end, but tastey nonetheless. A bit of a shock to have leftovers but they were all eaten the following Monday by Ali's italian language schoolmates...
Ali and I were pretty happy with the spread but it's funny that just one month later we've learned so much more: that you can get Copha, Tim tams, Coopers, Little Creatures and Milo online from shops in the UK; that you can buy kangaroo from the London Borough markets; that the Italians have a creation similar to chocolate crackles but using molten mars bars instead of chocolate/butter/copha type coagulating agents, and that italian toasters do a really crap job of making toast. On the flip side, we're now very happy to be able to say that our government has apologised to the stolen generations and ratified the Kyoto protocol and moved to advance other similarly intelligent and morally decent initiatives.
Since Australia day we've "cooked" ceviche, tried out Venice's only Argentinean restaurant, experienced Venice's Carnevale, gone to the UK, Ali finished her language course and started working and last weekend I did some cross-country skiing! Hopefully it'll all appear in blogs soon.
Ciao, Paul.
Wednesday 23 January 2008
The re-birth...
Paul and I have decided that a great analogy for my experience here so far is, well, starting your life all over again. OK. Probably a bit of an obvious analogy but let me take you through it....
First you start in the womb (the aeroplane) where it's warm, the air is filtered, you're crammed in but generally pretty comfortable, food just turns up in front of you, and the sights and sounds of the outside world are buffered. You are completely dependent on your carrier....ain't no getting out until they let you!
And then all of sudden, you are getting ushered out!! You don't really know where you're going, you just go with the flow and head towards the light. Through the gates (ahem) and you are confronted with all these people who are excited to see you.....but the light is too bright, it's too noisy, it's cold and nothing looks familar - apart of course from your dependent other who is strangely familiar! All you want to do is sleep and eat at strange times of the day whilst your dependent other is intent on introducing you to everything and everyone.
For the first week, all you can do is make noises - not even intelligible words, and you can't understand anything going on around you. You are completely reliant on your "dependent other" to navigate your way around.
In the second week, you move into two-word utterances.....telegraphic speech if you will. Then before your know it....
THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!
Excitement. Fear. Packing your backpack the night before. Separation Anxiety as your dependent other leaves you at the door and you have to try to communicate all your needs to strangers. And then you meet your teacher!! And you're instantly in love!! Funny, considerate, SPEAKS SLOWLY, young and handsome. He will be your saviour! He will be your guide in this crazy world! He will bring structure and meaning! Instant bonding! Hurrah!!!
Only, he's not your teacher afterall. He was just your teacher for the orienation. Separation anxiety all over again. New teacher scary and strict. And what about all those "friends" I made in the orientation? Now I have to start all over again. Will I be accepted?
Day 2. Meet teacher number two who will teach half of your classes. In love again! Like a primary school teacher, sweet, pretty, wears funky clothes and SPEAKS SLOWLY!! Ahhhhhh. Better. Exaggerates her speech and gestures...."Vaaaaa beeeeene?? Okaaaay? D'accorrrrrdo?". And you're covering all those basic subjects - family, clothes, types of work, animals etc. No dictionaries allowed.
What's really frustrating is knowing that your teachers and the whole class can speak English (these Europeans speak English better than me - not hard, I know) but we can only hope to understand the meanings of Italian words through our teachers' explanations in Italian, gestures and pictures.
Anyway - I'm in week 3 at the moment. I imagine I've learnt a lot but everyday I'm confronted with how much I still don't understand. One of the students gave up trying to conjugate a question with the correct tense, subjects and articles today in our class (strict teacher), so she just said "biscotto" instead. It was hilarious because it wasn't relevant at all to what we were discussing. I feel like that often too. i.e. "Here's a word I know in Italian - you figure out the rest cos 'biscotto' is all I have to offer right now - leave me alone".
After school I often go home, have lunch and watch my favourite show "Ciao Principessa". Yes, it's a children's show....but it's at my level! And she has a dog called "Scruuuf". I like Scruff. Of course, Scruff doesn't speak.
Okaaaaaaaaaaaay. Vaaaaa beeeeene. Only one more week of school left and then I enter the real world. I'll keep you posted!
Ali
First you start in the womb (the aeroplane) where it's warm, the air is filtered, you're crammed in but generally pretty comfortable, food just turns up in front of you, and the sights and sounds of the outside world are buffered. You are completely dependent on your carrier....ain't no getting out until they let you!
And then all of sudden, you are getting ushered out!! You don't really know where you're going, you just go with the flow and head towards the light. Through the gates (ahem) and you are confronted with all these people who are excited to see you.....but the light is too bright, it's too noisy, it's cold and nothing looks familar - apart of course from your dependent other who is strangely familiar! All you want to do is sleep and eat at strange times of the day whilst your dependent other is intent on introducing you to everything and everyone.
For the first week, all you can do is make noises - not even intelligible words, and you can't understand anything going on around you. You are completely reliant on your "dependent other" to navigate your way around.
In the second week, you move into two-word utterances.....telegraphic speech if you will. Then before your know it....
THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!
Excitement. Fear. Packing your backpack the night before. Separation Anxiety as your dependent other leaves you at the door and you have to try to communicate all your needs to strangers. And then you meet your teacher!! And you're instantly in love!! Funny, considerate, SPEAKS SLOWLY, young and handsome. He will be your saviour! He will be your guide in this crazy world! He will bring structure and meaning! Instant bonding! Hurrah!!!
Only, he's not your teacher afterall. He was just your teacher for the orienation. Separation anxiety all over again. New teacher scary and strict. And what about all those "friends" I made in the orientation? Now I have to start all over again. Will I be accepted?
Day 2. Meet teacher number two who will teach half of your classes. In love again! Like a primary school teacher, sweet, pretty, wears funky clothes and SPEAKS SLOWLY!! Ahhhhhh. Better. Exaggerates her speech and gestures...."Vaaaaa beeeeene?? Okaaaay? D'accorrrrrdo?". And you're covering all those basic subjects - family, clothes, types of work, animals etc. No dictionaries allowed.
What's really frustrating is knowing that your teachers and the whole class can speak English (these Europeans speak English better than me - not hard, I know) but we can only hope to understand the meanings of Italian words through our teachers' explanations in Italian, gestures and pictures.
Anyway - I'm in week 3 at the moment. I imagine I've learnt a lot but everyday I'm confronted with how much I still don't understand. One of the students gave up trying to conjugate a question with the correct tense, subjects and articles today in our class (strict teacher), so she just said "biscotto" instead. It was hilarious because it wasn't relevant at all to what we were discussing. I feel like that often too. i.e. "Here's a word I know in Italian - you figure out the rest cos 'biscotto' is all I have to offer right now - leave me alone".
After school I often go home, have lunch and watch my favourite show "Ciao Principessa". Yes, it's a children's show....but it's at my level! And she has a dog called "Scruuuf". I like Scruff. Of course, Scruff doesn't speak.
Okaaaaaaaaaaaay. Vaaaaa beeeeene. Only one more week of school left and then I enter the real world. I'll keep you posted!
Ali
Sunday 20 January 2008
Yesterday Mirano, Today Murano, Tomorrow Merano?
Hey folks,
Just a quick update to let you all know what we've been up to. After Capod'anno we were chilling out back in Venice before I had to go back to work and Ali started her intensive italian course. We took a daytrip up to the ski resort of Cortina d'Ampezzo, which was very nicely covered with snow that made the whole place pretty, but slippy. Ali has fallen in love with snowflakes and the amazing way that they actually look like what they're meant to look like on tv - all 120º angles , inverted hexagons and the like. We went up a cable car to one of the ski lodges, crazy fashions on display and brave parenting - people sending their youngest children down olympic slalom runs with nonchalance - now we know why italy is suffering negative population growth!
Ali's halfway through her intensive italian course, which she can tell you about in another blog, and I'm busy at work, preparing lectures and constructing a cleanlab for the rest of my project. We're planning an Australia day celebration and maybe going to visit Ali's rellies in the UK next month.
In the meantime, Carnevale is coming up real soon - more or less from the last weekend in January to the first weekend in February - Cassius will be playing the opening party! I was hoping to write a little bit about the Naples rubbish hoo-ha and the University of Rome's Physics Department cancelling a visit by the pope, but it's just too complicated, and as I mentioned, we're off to Murano soon. Oh, yeah, the post title refers to three different places here in the northeast of italy, all exactly the same title except for one vowel, and painfully easy to confuse...yesterday we went to the town on the mainland called Mirano, where Ali went boot-shopping, today we're going to the Island of Murano here in the Venetian laguna (famous for it's glassmakers being kicked off Venice for starting too many fires) and Merano is a city up in the Alps on the way to Switzerland, which we're not planning to visit tomorrow, by the way.
OK, so now the blog is up-to-date and the website was updated yesterday, so drop us a line and let us know what you're all up to...
Ciao, Paul.
Just a quick update to let you all know what we've been up to. After Capod'anno we were chilling out back in Venice before I had to go back to work and Ali started her intensive italian course. We took a daytrip up to the ski resort of Cortina d'Ampezzo, which was very nicely covered with snow that made the whole place pretty, but slippy. Ali has fallen in love with snowflakes and the amazing way that they actually look like what they're meant to look like on tv - all 120º angles , inverted hexagons and the like. We went up a cable car to one of the ski lodges, crazy fashions on display and brave parenting - people sending their youngest children down olympic slalom runs with nonchalance - now we know why italy is suffering negative population growth!
Ali's halfway through her intensive italian course, which she can tell you about in another blog, and I'm busy at work, preparing lectures and constructing a cleanlab for the rest of my project. We're planning an Australia day celebration and maybe going to visit Ali's rellies in the UK next month.
In the meantime, Carnevale is coming up real soon - more or less from the last weekend in January to the first weekend in February - Cassius will be playing the opening party! I was hoping to write a little bit about the Naples rubbish hoo-ha and the University of Rome's Physics Department cancelling a visit by the pope, but it's just too complicated, and as I mentioned, we're off to Murano soon. Oh, yeah, the post title refers to three different places here in the northeast of italy, all exactly the same title except for one vowel, and painfully easy to confuse...yesterday we went to the town on the mainland called Mirano, where Ali went boot-shopping, today we're going to the Island of Murano here in the Venetian laguna (famous for it's glassmakers being kicked off Venice for starting too many fires) and Merano is a city up in the Alps on the way to Switzerland, which we're not planning to visit tomorrow, by the way.
OK, so now the blog is up-to-date and the website was updated yesterday, so drop us a line and let us know what you're all up to...
Ciao, Paul.
Saturday 5 January 2008
Cappo D'anno
Buon Anno Nuovo!
After the usual pre-New Year's Eve shifting, moving, negotiating, haggling and bargaining, Paul and I decided to take-up an offer from one of his Venetian friends (Marco) to hang-out with his crew in Trieste. Trieste is a pretty coastal town near the border of Slovenia along the north-east coast of Italy and was formally a part of Austria until WW1. Vodaphone was first to notify us of our proximity to Slovenia by incorporating us into their Slovenian network.....so welcoming!
We went a day earlier than the rest of the crew to do some sight-seeing, taking-in Miramar Castle, Roman ruins and a quaint afternoon tea in one of the oldest cafes in the town operating since the early 1800's, "Cafe degli Specchi" (cafe of the mirrors).
We then met up with Marco and his friends....two of whom live in Trieste - Marta and her partner Lorenzo. After witnessing a nasty scooter accident in the street (I wanted to offer assistance but realised that communicating first aid needs through mime would not have been useful), we spent a few hours in Marta's apartment before heading off into the mountains to a restaurant specialising in "food from the forest".....i.e. deer, snails, frogs, goats etc. My italian was under a lot of pressure but luckily one of Marco's friends, Daniele could communicate at my level....his main topics of conversation seemed to revolve around when we would be eating, how much, when sweets would be served and when we would sleep.....my kind of Italian.
So I tried some frog legs....tasted like chicken. Trieds some snails....tasted like garlic butter... chicken. Ahhhh but all the food was truly amazing! I think about 8 courses in total. One of Marco's friends was very convincing in lying to me that we would then all have to do a second round of all 8 courses as it is a New Year's Eve tradition. I was freaking out.
From there, things got interesting. After welcoming in the new year with champagne and double the usual amount of kisses, everyone disappeared outside. Now I'm all for firework displays, and call me wuss if you will, but the idea of drunk unsupervised people randomly letting off explosions in a carpark makes me a little uneasy. The display was of course spectacular (after I stopped screaming, laughing and running around the carpark looking for cover......hmmnn. Pick the tourist).
Then, the cultural experience got even better. Next stage, drunken dancing and singing to popular Italian songs, English pop songs circa 1989, ABBA, and Eurotrash (categories by no means mutually exclusive). We were all mesmerised by one man in particular....imagine what Bono would have looked like in the 1980's but as a 40 year old wearing a lemon yellow waistcoat and doing drunk semi-provactive dancing. He looked a bit like a mattador with no bull - but you get the idea.
After "Il Mattador" initiated a few trains through the restaurant and kitchen, enter stereotypical ridiculously 'hot' and sassy Italian woman. I might blush if I describe in too much detail what she looked like....but let's just say she was wearing a dress that I'm pretty sure was meant to be a jumper. Then the music went too classy and instrumental and she along with everyone else left the dancefloor. When ABBA was cranked again, they all returned and "Il Mattador" decided to impress a new female entrant with his quasi Cossack dancing......but managed to impress himself more on the tiles when he subsequently put a hole in the floor. Ahhh it was brilliant.
So after much laughter, some Grappa (had to try it but probably won't again) and a debate with Daniele as to whether one of the Italian pop songs uses the same melody as "Let's get Physical" (I think I offended him), my first Italian New Year's Eve was over....and definitely one to be remembered.
After the usual pre-New Year's Eve shifting, moving, negotiating, haggling and bargaining, Paul and I decided to take-up an offer from one of his Venetian friends (Marco) to hang-out with his crew in Trieste. Trieste is a pretty coastal town near the border of Slovenia along the north-east coast of Italy and was formally a part of Austria until WW1. Vodaphone was first to notify us of our proximity to Slovenia by incorporating us into their Slovenian network.....so welcoming!
We went a day earlier than the rest of the crew to do some sight-seeing, taking-in Miramar Castle, Roman ruins and a quaint afternoon tea in one of the oldest cafes in the town operating since the early 1800's, "Cafe degli Specchi" (cafe of the mirrors).
We then met up with Marco and his friends....two of whom live in Trieste - Marta and her partner Lorenzo. After witnessing a nasty scooter accident in the street (I wanted to offer assistance but realised that communicating first aid needs through mime would not have been useful), we spent a few hours in Marta's apartment before heading off into the mountains to a restaurant specialising in "food from the forest".....i.e. deer, snails, frogs, goats etc. My italian was under a lot of pressure but luckily one of Marco's friends, Daniele could communicate at my level....his main topics of conversation seemed to revolve around when we would be eating, how much, when sweets would be served and when we would sleep.....my kind of Italian.
So I tried some frog legs....tasted like chicken. Trieds some snails....tasted like garlic butter... chicken. Ahhhh but all the food was truly amazing! I think about 8 courses in total. One of Marco's friends was very convincing in lying to me that we would then all have to do a second round of all 8 courses as it is a New Year's Eve tradition. I was freaking out.
From there, things got interesting. After welcoming in the new year with champagne and double the usual amount of kisses, everyone disappeared outside. Now I'm all for firework displays, and call me wuss if you will, but the idea of drunk unsupervised people randomly letting off explosions in a carpark makes me a little uneasy. The display was of course spectacular (after I stopped screaming, laughing and running around the carpark looking for cover......hmmnn. Pick the tourist).
Then, the cultural experience got even better. Next stage, drunken dancing and singing to popular Italian songs, English pop songs circa 1989, ABBA, and Eurotrash (categories by no means mutually exclusive). We were all mesmerised by one man in particular....imagine what Bono would have looked like in the 1980's but as a 40 year old wearing a lemon yellow waistcoat and doing drunk semi-provactive dancing. He looked a bit like a mattador with no bull - but you get the idea.
After "Il Mattador" initiated a few trains through the restaurant and kitchen, enter stereotypical ridiculously 'hot' and sassy Italian woman. I might blush if I describe in too much detail what she looked like....but let's just say she was wearing a dress that I'm pretty sure was meant to be a jumper. Then the music went too classy and instrumental and she along with everyone else left the dancefloor. When ABBA was cranked again, they all returned and "Il Mattador" decided to impress a new female entrant with his quasi Cossack dancing......but managed to impress himself more on the tiles when he subsequently put a hole in the floor. Ahhh it was brilliant.
So after much laughter, some Grappa (had to try it but probably won't again) and a debate with Daniele as to whether one of the Italian pop songs uses the same melody as "Let's get Physical" (I think I offended him), my first Italian New Year's Eve was over....and definitely one to be remembered.
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