Thursday, September 29, 2011

Modes of Transport and Classical Music

Listening to Schubert's Unfinished Symphony this morning, I had an image of a man, Schubert I suppose, riding a galloping horse.  And I wondered could early 19th century romanticism be linked to the main form of transportation at the time - horse riding? Romantic painters like Delacroix and Gericault certainly loved to give us graphic images of horses straining at the bit, eyes enlarged in fear, nostrals flaring.  Could these wild horses be present in romantic works like Schubert's symphonies as well?
Delacroix: Lion attacking an Arab on a Horse

And now that I think about it, is it a coincidence that the jittering movements  and improvisations of jazz coincide with the onset of our modern obsession, the darting automobile, again reflected in the visual arts in the late works of Mondrian, such as "Broadway Boogie-Woogie".


And what of today? Do not Steve Reich's tedious works of repetition reflect the barley perceptible coughing motion of the modern high-speed train? I can imagine enjoying them on my iPod while riding the bullet train from Tokyo to Kyoto, but surely not seated on a saddle.  Do not the pared down and depersonalised sounds of the works of Philip Glass reflect the atmosphere of airports and commercial flights? And if I need a parallel from the visual arts, let me pick the abstract  works of Robert Nymann, as white and featureless as the atmosphere through which we fly, broken only by the turbelence of his rippled surface.

Robert Nymann

Marx said something like - show me your technology and I'll show you your government.  Doolan now says, show me your means of transport and I'll show you your music. Just a thought.

Friday, September 16, 2011

ZIS Lipdub

This year we decided to do something a little bit different - shoot a short film with the teachers, staff and nearly 500 teenage students in our school. And here is the result. Hope you enjoy it:

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Esther de Vries Poem: Mandala

Last year I posted a link to the Esther de Vries poem "Layered" that had appeared in nthposition.
Here is another of her poems. This first appeared in issue 19 of the Liverpool poetry journal erbacce in 2010.


Mandala

Our breakfast table is a mandala:
at its corners white plates and cups of tea and coffee
flanked by cutlery of stainless steel,
blue and white Japanese bowls are dotted round,
in the middle a basket of bread
surrounded by jars of various colours.
At intervals hands move towards the center
to choose a croissant or a piece of zopf
but instead of calm chanting, there are raised voices.
A child screeches: “It’s my turn, listen!”
another snaps:
“Stop chewing so loudly, you’re disgusting”.
They lunge for each other,
prodding in whichever way might provoke
until one picks up a fork, yells and stabs
straight through the bread,
pinning the basket to the table.
“Up to your room!”
Off she storms,
leaving a flawed mandala in her wake.

There are also mornings when
words and smiles flow like sand
small shifts in mood don’t damage the picture
for a few minutes, it is still,
everything in its place 
until the table is cleared.

Esther de Vries





Sunday, September 4, 2011

A Princess Comes to Visit


It isn't everyday that a teacher has a princess come to visit in the classroom, but that is exactly what happened when Princess Mette-Marit of Norway dropped into my class on Thursday.  Crown Prince Haakon and Crown Princess Mette-Marit of Norway celebrated their 10th wedding anniversary by flying to Zurich in order to attend the four day One Youth World conference, together with the likes of Desmond Tutu, Bob Geldof and keynote speaker Jamie Oliver. The Norwegian Royal couple decided to visit my school, in order to lead a workshop on Global Dignity.  I don't know how exactly it came about, but this Irish republican was landed with the job of playing host to the princess. 


We discovered that we had something in common, both being fans of the Australian rocker Nick Cave and his band, the Bad Seeds. Her Highness, a veteran of the Oslo rave scene and a well known rock fan, attended high school in Australia for one year. The most famous graduate of the school was Nick Cave.  The princess became quite animated when she told me that she had managed to track down some of Cave's old school English essays. These days Cave, former punk and heroine addict, is almost a type of royalty himself.  He lives in upper-class Hove, just outside Brighton; his albums are reviewed in the Financial Times, his novels are reviewed in The Times Literary Supplement, his films play at international film festivals. But he still rocks, especially when he appears with his pared down foursome, Grinderman.

I'll admit that having a princess in the classroom, being a bit out of the ordinary, did make the day a tad more interesting. But I wasn't overexcited.  Now if Nick Cave should come to visit...