Muse by Craig Ranapia

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Postcard from London: Lines Composed Upon Westminster Bridge, May 25, 2012

I’m sure there’s many things more fair:

The smell of burnt caramel nuts drift by

As gaggles of giggling chavs seek their destiny:

This City does, like a sweaty garment, wear

 

The beauty of the twilit evening; here

A perplexed gentleman from Mumbai tries

To take a photo; there, a baby's cry;

A tour party isn’t sure where is here.  

The last rays of the sun beautifully peep

Round The Eye the South Bank lion ignores still.

The exhaust fills me with a lethargy so deep!

You stop and start and shamble still:

Dear God! will I ever get some sleep;

Unlikely. The bus has just been cancelled.

 

I’m sure there’s not many things more fair:

The smell of burnt caramel nuts drift by

As gaggles of giggling chavs seek their destiny:

This City does, like a sweaty garment, wear

 

The beauty of the twilit evening; there

A perplexed gentleman from Mumbai tries

To take a photo while the babies cry;

A tour party aren’t sure where is here.  

The last rays of the most beautifully peep

Round The Eye the South Bank lion ignores still.

The exhaust fills me with a lethargy so deep!

You stop and start and shamble still:

Dear God! will I ever get some sleep;

Unlikely. The sodding bus has just been cancelled.

22

Postcard from Cologne: Willst Du Mich Verarschen?

I've always found it impossible to walk past a bookstore, even if there's nothing in it I can read apart from the imported pornography (don't ask unless you have serious cash-money in hand).

But anyone who cares to explain this, seen eariler today in a bookshop in Cologne, will have my eternal gratitude. (There is a law of tourism that you can only do two museums and one department store, or three cathedrals and six department stores in a single day without mental gridlock.) Perhaps. 

 

Yes, I should be feeling a patriotic glow of some description but the woman giggling softly beside me over another of Frau Lark's roman, Im Schatten des Kauribaums (I shit you not), one is not optimistic.  

Could any of our German readers enlighten us -- is it hot throbbing Mandingo down under action, or a sensitive work of historical ethnography with a plea for tolerance and understanding on the side?  Failing all else, and Public Address being what it is, the most imaginative and/or disgusting confection will get you a vaguely smutty postcard from Amsterdam (where we're off to around 8pm tonight, New Zealand time).

And if you don't I will post ever damn photo of every church I've been in between here and Hong Kong.  Your life is not that long. 

50

What The Frig, Police?

I'm not a huge fan of hip-hop and am ever so slightly prone to panic attacks in large crowds, so it shouldn't be a surprise KRS-One's Auckland show last night wasn't terribly high on my bucket list.

But this, if this is true, should have even the most fervid rap-haters tapping their feet -- with impatience and irritation.

Rapper KRS-ONE has been forced to move his concert from Auckland’s Cloud venue at the Viaduct, allegedly after concerns over the mix of rap and alcohol.

A liquor licence for the venue was denied, forcing the concert to move to Studio on Karangahape Road.

The Auckland City Council claims promoters were too slow in their application for a liquor licence at the venue - a claim KRS-ONE concert promoter Zen Ginnen calls “completely a lie”. 

Mr Ginnen claims there is another reason behind the venue shift. He says he was told by police that rap tends to attract a “certain group within society which causes problems for the community”.

Perhaps I'm being way too cynical, but if Ginnen's allegation is correct it's hard to escape the conclusion that "certain group" is not at all subtle code for young, male, from Auckland's south and west and bearing way too much melanin. (Even with my level of hip-hop illiteracy I have my suspicions that the audience for this chap might just skew a little older and a lot whiter.)

Anyone who's attending KRS-One's hastily organised seminar at Auckland Museum this afternoon (1pm, The Auditorium (level 2), enter via Southern Atrium.  Admission by koha) is welcome to report back in the comments.

I just hope the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra isn't planning to mark next year's centennary of the premiere of Stravinsky's Le sacre du printemps (The Rite of Spring) with performances in venues requiring a liquor license.  Well-bred bourgeois subscribers quaffing mediocre over-priced  chardonnay in the lobby of the Aotea Center year may sound harmless, but Iggy infamously attracted his own kind of problematic "certain group" to that gig (even if the actual rioting seems to have been ever so slightly exaggerated).

It may be a landmark of modern classical music, but we just can't risk another drunken riot.  Arty-farties and liquor don't mix.

Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose?  Or just another reason why white people can't have nice things?

23

Confound The Ignorant, And Amaze Indeed!

UPDATE:  Had confirmation from The Edge that the dodgy weather forcast has triggered a move to the rain day venue: Auckland Town Hall's Concert Chamber.  Since the venue seats a maximum of 450 please get there early to avoid disappointment.

As part of the 2012 Cultural Olympiad, Shakespeare's Globe Theatre in London is staging the 2012 Globe To Globe Festival -- 37 companies have been invited to stage all of the Bard's play in 37 languages from Urdu to Sign. 

If hip-hop Othello or Coriolanus in Japanese isn't your cup of matcha, Ngakau Toa are kicking off the globalized Bard-a-palooza (on April 23, Shakespeare's birthday) with Toroihi raua ko Kahira - a Te Reo production A.K.A. The Maori Troilus and Cressida.

A host of our most respected Maori actors make up the cast, which is led by Rawiri Paratene (Whale Rider) as Pandarus.

Co-Directed by Rachel House and Jamus Webster, Produced by Grace Hoet. Director of Music Richard Nunns.

Featuring Waihoroi Shortland, Scotty Morrison, Kimo Houltham, Awhina Rose Henare-Ashby, Juanita Hepi, Waimihi Hotere, Matu Ngaropo, Maaka Pohatu and James Tito.

Want to be a cooler arts patron than Jenny Gibbs, the CIA and a crypt full of Medicis combined at a fraction of the cost and with none of the painful rubber chicken circuit chit-chat?

If you're in Auckland, it's as easy as showing up at Aotea Square Concert Chamber, Auckland Town Hall, before 6.00pm this Thursday, Friday or Saturday (22-24 March) with a blanket, an (alcohol-free) picnic basket, all your friends and whanau and a generous koha.

It's not cheap taking a cast and crew of 21 to the other side of the planet to open a  prestigious theatre festival connected with the highest profile sports event on the planet. Since it's not anything really  important, like bailing out a profligate rugby union, there's still a substantial funding shortfall no amount of lurking on Grabaseat is going to fill over the next month.

(Which, for the record, doesn't diminish the support of Te Waka Toi-Creative New Zealand, Te Puni Kokiri, Te Taura Whiri, Shakespeare Globe Theatre, NZ International Arts Festival, THE EDGE, Arts Alive Auckland Council, Wellington City Council and TangataWhenua.com.)

If Auckland is too far away, a Kickstarter is due to be launched in the next couple of days, and I'll post a link as soon as it's up.  If you're in London, tickets are still available for both performances (April 23 & 24, 7.30).  If you're of sound ankles, standing room tickets in The Yard are £5.00. 

It's fair to ask why the hell you should be reaching into your pocket again, let alone for a pack of thespians.  This is how the production is described on The Globe's website.

The dramatic festivities of Globe to Globe open with the group who have travelled furthest. Rawiri Paratene (star of Whale Rider) has assembled New Zealand's best Maori actors for a production of Troilus and Cressida.

In an exquisite translation by Te Haumiata Mason, the production will incorporate many aspects of Maori culture, including the haka (warrior dance) and waiata (song), especially created by the best composers and choreographers of Aotearoa. Ti hei mauriora!

At the risk of sounding like a dip-shit hippy, to me Shakespeare is every bit as much a taonga as Te Reo and The Globe is holy ground.  The Globe to Globe Festival is a vivid reminder that this most English of dramatists - like London itself - is adaptable to not only a multitude of voices but radically different traditions; even sometimes as far beyond language as  Verdi at his most heartbreaking and the savage melancholy of Kurosawa's late masterpiece Ran

It's a tribute to actor/producer Rawiri Paratene - and the depth and strength of both Maori theatre and Shakespearean productions in this country - that he was invited to participate.  Even the most casual scan of the participants makes it abundantly clear this isn't amateur hour or "political correctness".  Which makes it all the more impressive that Ngakau Toa are taking on one of the least familiar, and more difficult plays in the cannon.  

As the Trojan War reaches its seventh year, and a bloody stalemate, a Trojan prince named Troilus (Kimo Houltham)  falls in love with Cressida (Awhina Henare-Ashby) the daughter of a traitorous Trojan priest who has defected to the Greek side.  Aided and abetted by Cressida's uncle, Pandarus (Paratene) almost everything else -- sex, politics, bad luck, worse judgement, mixed motives, conflicting agendas, more sex, their own foolishness and others' lethal pride -- conspires to pull them apart.  Everyone gets screwed, one way or another, and anyone familiar with Greek literature knows very few will get much older let alone wiser.

It's a heady brew of high tragedy and low bawdy - and not always an easily digestible one -- but you can't say there isn't something for everyone.

If that doesn't close the deal then let me make one last appeal to cultural nationalism.  If Ngakau Toa doesn't make it, we should all die of shame - and I'm not sharing my ghost chips with any of you bastards. 

Let's prove there's more to New Zealand culture on the world stage than Peter Jackson (I hates Hobbitses - blow me) and Boy getting a Kickstarted commando release in the United States

For three days this week, Auckland readers get not only a chance to engage in flaxroots arts patronage, but also a banging night out if the standing ovation at the Wellington premiere is anything to go by. 

Hamlet's career as an impresario was short, messy and not well-received but he still hands down a call to arms, and an earnest prayer that this week's performances are a success in every sense.  

Make mad the guilty, and appall the free,
Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed
The very faculties of eyes and ears!

80

The Good Word, Bad Numbers and The Fake-Fact That Won't Die

The New Zealand Herald, like a good dose of the clap, is the gift that never stops giving no matter how much you want it to. 

The final series of local book program The Good Word started last night on TVNZ 7 (and can be seen on demand here), and The Good Word Jr. begins today (Saturday, March 3).  So, cheers for it getting a nice valedictory write up in the Weekend Herald today - though it would be nice if Rebecca Barry Hill got a well-earned by-line in the on-line version.

But I can't help but share Russell's partially caps-locked exasperation at Barry Hill cut-and-pasting the TVNZ 7-related fake-fact that just won't die:

But stymied by our small population, the channel was considered too costly to run at $15 million a year; the expense was not considered justifiable for its 207,000 weekly viewers.

How often - and thoroughly - does this number have to be fisked, discredited and shown to be utter bilge before The Herald just stops using it?

The story ends with this heart-breaking appeal for crowd-sourced wisdom and free copy:

What do you think of the impending lack of television coverage of the arts and books in New Zealand? Should TVNZ and TV3 take up the responsibility? Let us know via linda.herrick@nzherald.co.nz and we'll print your views in the arts pages next week.

Since you asked, Linda, I think media coverage of the arts should remember that everyone is entitled to their own opinion - and it's been hard to miss that the NZH has never been editorial supportive on TVNZ 7 --, but nobody is entitled to their own facts.   The Herald's arts editor needs to take up the responsibility of not spreading misleading and inaccurate figures about cultural institutions because the paper's editorial writers and media columnist don't seem to care.

(The Good Word, TVNZ7, Fridays at 9.05pm; replays Saturdays at 9.05am and 1.05pm; Tuesdays, 9.30pm; Wednesdays, 9.30am and 1.30pm.

The Good Word Jr, TVNZ7, Saturdays at 7.05pm; replays Sundays, 4.05pm, Wednesdays at 6.30pm; Thursdays at 12.30pm.)

UPDATE:  From Russell in comments:

Just to note that Linda Herrick called while I was out and is keen to make a correction. So that’s good.

Bloody oath is it, and credit where due etc.  Could that please become a feature not a bug of the Herald's editorial OS?  Please.