Vanessa Atalanta

The first Red Admiral (Vanessa Atalanta) spotted in the garden this morning. 

A little early in the season to arrive from their migration I would have thought, usually associating this butterfly with the month of September more than late June. However upon reference it is described as, 'a strong migrant, spreading northwards from the Mediterranean region each summer to breed. Adults hibernate and a few survive the winter in Britain'. It would have to be a strong insect to have survived last winter, the coldest for several decades!

Butterflies flit across the pages of 'The Garden of Cyrus', Browne, the keen lepidopterist observing, that the colour of the Caterpillar will shew again in the Butterfly, with some latitude is allowable. Nor can he omit the enquiry how Butterflies and breezes move their four wings from his speculations, even likening butterflies to flowers in the form of the Butterfly bloomes of leguminous plants.

It's also of interest to note that the Ancient Greek word for "butterfly" is ψυχή (psychē), which translates as 'soul', but also as 'mind'. There is of course a wealth of symbolism in literature throughout the world, both ancient and modern which alludes to the transitory, migratory nature of the butterfly, or as it was known as in the seventeenth century, the 'breeze-fly', being likened to the soul.

The Piano

Last night as part of my continuing comparative study between the film of the book , I watched 'The Piano' (1993). Jane Campion, (b.1954), the director of the film, is also author of the novella, 'The Piano'. Her novella, written after the film's making (1994), is in this case more of a development than an adaptation, adding new insights into the character's past history.

'The Piano' is a great triumph for several reasons. Most notably the combination of director Jane Campion's ten years dedication spent writing the story, and the actress Holly Hunter's portrayal of the emotions of the central character, Ada MacGrath, a role which consolidated Holly Hunter's acting career. She plays the part of Scottish pianist and mute, who arrives in New Zealand for an arranged marriage, little more than a mail-order bride. It's no small achievement to act a non-speaking role throughout an entire film and yet still be extremely expressive. The picture of the beautiful and broody Ms. Hunter wearing a Victorian bonnet is one of the film's great images. In addition to the fine acting of Holly Hunter which won her an Academy award, the supporting roles of Ada's frustrated husband and her lover are admirably realized by Sam O'Neill and Harvey Keitel respectively. The role of Ada's nine-year old daughter, Flora, earned Anna Paquin an award for supporting actress, the second youngest ever actress to win win such an award. The film is further enhanced by the lyrical music score of the composer Michael Nyman.

The triangular relationship between Ada, her husband Alisdair Stewart, and George Baines, is set against a backdrop of early colonial New Zealand, one of mud, deforestation and the indigenous Maori population. The film's plot is in essence an evolving love story which is propelled by two short scenes of sex and violence. There's also a good deal of subtle eroticism in the scenes which involve Ada and Baines in their negotiations over ownership of the piano, which itself is no minor 'character' .

Having also recently read the novella, 'The Piano' several interpretative points are worth mentioning. The film, unlike the book, engages in little of the book's internal dialogue other than Ada's short voice-over at its beginning and ending. The entire role of music and the emotion's which it evokes is naturally far less achievable in a novel, while the static nature of internal dialogue is less of a feature in most films. The viewer thus relies upon the acting skills of the central characters to explain why, for example, George Baines is entranced by Ada's piano-playing. But it is the near hypnotic ability of film to involve the viewer in a far greater immediate emotional response than reading can sometimes achieve, through the use of music, but also through graphic imagery, which strongly differentiates film from book.

In the case of 'The Piano' the music is an integral part of the story which further enhances empathy with the characters. The composer Michael Nyman (b. 1944) is quite simply the best of British composers, his previous collaborations with the film-maker Peter Greenaway, introduced him to a wide audience, and in fact the strong rhythmic impetus and gorgeous lyricism of his film-score has ensured that it stands as an enjoyable piano concerto in its own right.

By a curious coincidence like the film 'Respiro', which I reviewed in May 'The Piano' also involves a denouement in which the heroine is rescued and 're-born' in water surrounded by a small crowd of swimmers.

In many ways the success of the film 'The Piano' is the sum total of a harmonious artistic collaboration between director, actors and composer. It's a pity that more films are not so well constructed in direction, acting and sound-track.

Vuvuzela

Weapons of mass earsplitting destruction or harmless fun?

The vuvuleza is manufactured in a wide spectrum of colours, unlike opinion of it which is sharply divided between love and hate. It is currently receiving world-wide attention due to its contribution to the celebration of the football World Cup currently in session.

Its estimated that the one metre in length vuvuleza can emit a sound approximately 130 decibels loud; the most commonly manufactured instruments are pitched at B flat below middle C, very close to the frequency of human speech.

The BBC has received hundreds of complaints about the playing of vuvuleza spoiling viewers enjoyment of the sport, football players have requested fans to desist from its playing during the match and FIFA the organizational body co-coordinating the World Cup have decided not to ban it from matches.

There's considerable apian imagery associated with descriptions of its sound. Its constant drone being likened to having one's head thrust into a giant hive full of very angry bees.

The BBC sports commentator Farayi Mungazi stated that the sound of the horn was the "recognised sound of football in South Africa" and that it is "absolutely essential for an authentic South African footballing experience". He also said there was no point in taking the World Cup to Africa and then "trying to give it a European feel". The chief sports reporter of the Daily Telegraph Paul Kelso described critics of the vuvuleza as "killjoys" and said they should "stop moaning". South African football supporters themselves insist that the instrument is part of their national culture and claim those objecting to it are in fact being intolerant of an integral part of their national culture.

The phrase 'part of the national culture' seems to justify and vindicate all sorts of bizarre behaviour these days, from getting drunk on a Saturday night, to the waving of flags and engaging in war. Against a background of such behaviour the vuvuleza seems a harmless enough enthusiasm.

Its with some hesitation that I am filing this posting under the label of 'music', but then to some the compositions of Karlheinz Stockhausen, for example, barely equate as music. All that one can be certain of is that the world is becoming a place of highly subjective and arguementative opinion, with no centre or fulcrum upon which to establish that most elusive of human values, namely, truth, as regards this subject. One man's joyful sound is another man's irritating noise!

The Dream Life of Sukhanov

Recently I read 'The Dream life of Sukhanov' (2005) by Olga Grushin. Its the story of a man who possessing all the good things life can offer, a well-paid job as an art critic, a beautiful wife, loving children and perks such as a second home for the summer, a chauffeur-driven car and best tickets for the theatre, has to face the reality that he is neither loved, respected or valued as much as he imagines. The reader is obliged to pay close attention throughout the novel as almost imperceptibly the narrative slips between the present-day tragedy unfolding and Sukhanov's reminiscences of happier times.

Because Sukhanov has lived in Moscow throughout his life, certain places, doorways and streets, spark reminiscences. These reminiscences form a large part of the narrative, taking the reader back to earlier events in Sukhanov's life. However, there's a uncertain ambiguity writ large in the novel's title, for does Sukhanov's 'dream life' consist of the privileged, ideal life which is dissolving before his eyes, or his inability to desist from reminiscing about the past and happier times, his escapist 'dream life', when confronted with the crisis he faces .The plot drives onwards inexorably to a powerful, shocking and even slightly ambiguous denouement.

Sukhanov's great tragedy is that he takes everything for granted, toeing the party line in his art reviews by inserting commonplaces of communist aesthetics in his reviews, he has as modern parlance puts it, 'sold out'. However the novel is set in the year 1985, the year of Mikhail Gorbachov's policy of glasnost and perestroika and the dissolution of the communist old order.

There's much allusion in the novel to two 20th century painters, the exiled Russian painter Marc Chagall who died in the year the novel is set, 1985, and the surrealist painter Salvador Dali, representative of the 'decadent' art denounced by Shushkin as voice-piece of official Soviet party aesthetics. The surrealist art movement is also however representative of Shushkin's 'true' artistic creativity which he has abandoned for the trappings and prestige of official status. There's also significant allusion to Andrei Rubelev, the medieval Russian icon painter and the subject of a film by Andrei Tarkovsky.

'The Dream Life of Sukhanov' is extremely well-written in clear, concise and flowing prose. It is as the critics state, an astoundingly good first novel. Although written in English with its author now resident in America, it is utterly Russian in its theme of alienation and the role of the individual in society and history. I found it to be a deeply moving, at times funny, more often sad and ultimately challenging statement, on how the failure to face up to reality can destroy the individual's life.

Some highly recommended Russian novels

19th c.

Oblomov (1859) Ivan Goncharov
Fathers and sons (1862) Ivan Turgenev
The Idiot (1869) Fyodor Dostoevsky
Anna Karenina (1879) Leo Tolstoy
Brothers Karamazov (1881) Fyodor Dostoevsky

20th c.

The Fiery Angel (1908) Valery Bryusov
The strange life of Ivan Osokin (1915) P.D. Ouspensky
Petersburg (1916) Andre Bely
We (1921) Yevgeny Zamyatin
Heart of a dog (1925) Mikhail Bulgakov
Novel with cocaine (1934) M.A. Agev
The Master and Margarita (1940) Mikhail Bulgakov

21st century

A Hero's Daughter (1990 Eng. trans.2004) Andrei Makine

Acting Browne

Over the years I've attempted to entertain and enlighten the good citizens of Norwich with performances of Sir Thomas Browne. Blessed with a good memory (one remembers well whatever one values and loves ) I've found a number of passages in Browne's works suitable for reciting and have been received with varied degrees of appreciation. Here's yours truly, located appropriately in a Garden-Grave with recently unearthed urn, about to deliver. I've not donned my costume for a couple of years now, but may well do so during the next Lord Mayor's procession week-end in July.

         Civic performance on the occasion of  new Browne sculpture, July 2007