Monday 30 April 2007

Trivia - Lily of the Valley


Lily of the Valley (Convallaria majalis) is also known as Our Lady's Tears, May Lily, May Bells, Lily Constancy, Ladder-to-Heaven, Male Lily and Muguet.

It was first cultivated in 1420 and has legends that attach it to the Virgin Mary, St George and the Bible's Song of Songs. Not bad for such a small flower.

By tradition, Lily of the Valley is sold on the streets in France on May 1st and is also the national flower of Finland.

The meaning of the flower is "You Will Find Happiness".

Sooooooo.. this May first, if you can, be a little French and give someone a bunch to assure them that they will find happiness!

Friday 27 April 2007

Cuba - Haunting Hemingway #19, 20, 21, 22 & 23






Photo# 19, 20, 21, 22 & 23
This is my last posting about my Cuban vacation, promise!

This series of photos has very little to do with photography and everything to do with documentation.

You see, I have inadvertently embarked on a quest to haunt Ernest Hemingway's ghost. I live in Toronto working for journalists (where he once worked as a journalist), I have been to Chicago (where he lived), vacationed at Walloon Lake in Michigan (where he used to vacation) and now I have visited all of his old drinking hangouts in Havana.

For once in my life I didn't care if the venues I visited were tourist traps, though I noticed most people just stopped to take photos outside rather than going in and actually having a drink. To me that was very odd, me I was drinking for Hemingway.

Like Ernest (if I am haunting him we may as well be on familiar terms) I had a mojito (ok, a couple of mojitos) at Bodeguita del Medico. A lovely bar with lots of wood panellng, not far from the Plaza del Cathedral, where they pumped out mojitos like nobody's business five or six at at time.

We wandered on, a little buzzed to El Floridita that is not only a former haunt of our dear Ernest but also claims to be the home of the daiquiri. If you are in the birth place of a drink you must sample it so we had two.

I loved the dinning room at the back of this bar, it was very 'old worldly' and I had an excited moment where I felt like I had been transported to another time, I admit that I automatically thought of Agatha Chrisite, I am sure Ernest would not approve.

Both locations, as is the case with many places in Havana, had a live band playing salsa music, so the scene was set perfectly.

By the time our demi-pilgrimage was complete I was very content and also a little dizzy, but what a way to go.

Thank you Ernest, your recommendations were excellent!

Photos: G. Szopa

Thursday 26 April 2007

Standing Alone In Three Parts


On Tuesday night I saw the play 'When You Stand Alone' a one-man play performed by Wesley Connor.

The performance was a charity event to raise funds for a hospital in Zimbabwe. Charity events always make me a little more lenient in my criticisms, however this performance did not require that, it was good.

The play is in three distinct parts, each with a completely different character (a childlike Beatles Lonely Hearts Club President, a disillusioned housewife, and an angry young man). The common thread they share is a sense of solitude (and a pot of cellophane flowers) that each of them deal with in a completely different way.

The actor did a fantastic job of making each of the characters believable, even though he changed costume from character to character on stage, had no real set, and limited props.

I felt that the Beatles fan and housewife were slightly stronger than the third character, but I can't criticize someone who five minutes prior was able to banish my disbelief so that I believed that he was a reminiscing 1950s-style housewife hoping to escape to France.

What I like most about the actor's performance was his all encompassing enthusiasm that shone through with each of the characters. The first character's display of his Beatles figurines in particular was simple yet fabulous.

The subject matter was actually terribly sad, three people trying to deal with their loneliness, each rationalizing how they have ended up where they are, and bargaining through convoluted self-rationing a way to keep their hopes alive. However, the actor's mastery of comic timing made each situation hilarious, and gave each character an innocence they made them even more likable.

More than anything else this play restored my faith (after the dance atrocity on Friday) that if you have talent you don't need complicated distractions like props, costumes and lighting to make a performance captivating.

On a personal note that has nothing to do with the play itself. Even though each of the characters had their own voice (literally and figuratively) I couldn't help but notice that the actor had what I, as a foreigner, consider to be a 'real' Canadian accent. I can't explain how, but it's always nice to hear.

Tuesday 24 April 2007

Flights O' Fancy



Flight Patterns by Aaron Koblin makes the now unpleasant experience of flying chic and animated.

Air Traffic As Seen By the FAA.
The Flight Patterns visualizations are the result of experiments leading to the project Celestial Mechanics by Scott Hessels and Gabriel Dunne. FAA data was parsed and plotted using the Processing programming environment. The frames were composited with Adobe After Effects and/or Maya.

Thanks Kurt for passing this on! x

Monday 23 April 2007

poke me, poke me now.. porn & socialising bosom buddies?


It's not what you think, this isn't a post advocating sharing porn with your friends.

Like it or not pornography has to be acknowledged as one of the primary movers and shakers (no pun intended) when it has come to advancements in internet technology.

What is the connection to friends and socialising? Well, the marketing-research firm Hitwise says that social networking sites such as MySpace and Facebook are starting to snip at the heels of pornography in terms of internet usage.

"Pornography is probably as popular as it ever was, but there's a whole bunch more people who are constructing their (social) identities online," said Mark Federman, former chief strategist with the McLuhan Program in Culture and Technology.

Well, there you go!

Hot Docs - Font Love, my dirty little nerd film


On Saturday night I saw another Hot Docs film, the film that I was the most keen to see out of everything on offer. I call it my dirty little nerd film and it more than lived up to my high expectations.

If the words Helvetica, Verdana, or Garamond mean nothing to you, nor will this post. If you can't appreciate my profound hatred of Comic Sans or my love of Trebuchet or News Gothic this post will at best seem a little eccentric, and at worst utterly nerd-like and self-indulgent. I am prepared to take that risk.

The film was Helvetica, a film devoted to the font of the same name. A film all about a font? Yes, a film all about a font, and yet so much more.

Helvetica is the most used and recognizable font in the Latin/roman alphabet world, it literally is everywhere there is signage. The font was designed almost 50 years ago in Switzerland and was originally called Neue Haas Grotesk. The name was changed for marketing reasons to appeal to the American market. The name 'Helvetica' was derived from the original suggestion of Helvetzia (which means Switzerland). As a quick tangent, my great aunt Elvetzia's name is also in homage to Switzerland, as my family is part Swiss.

The film was not only a potted history of the conception and application of Helvetica over the past fifty years but also explored the great divide amongst typographers who either love or hate the font with equal passion. As, another aside if I could have had a different life I would have loved to have been a typographer.

Is it possible to feel passionate about a font? It is indeed, and the manifestations of this adoration or loathing are both interesting and hilarious.

Pro-Helvetica typographers included Massimo Vignelli, who was responsible for designing (with the use of Helvetica) the signage for the New York City Subway and American Airlines. The comment he made that I liked best after he wax-lyricked about the elegance of Helvetica, that I will paraphrase was "that contemporary designers expect too much from their fonts, are disinterested in legibility, and too focused on emotion. They expect the word 'dog' to embody a dog and perhaps even to bark, which is impossible." (a nice little opener for those interested in semiotics there).

Another pro-Heveticer was utterly animated in his delight on how Helvica had changed the world. His enthusiastic monologue on the original excitement of how Helvetica was received when it entered the advertising market in the 1950s was both hilarious and priceless.

Those on the other side of the Helvetica divide were equally entertaining and adamant in their convictions. Typography legend of Ray Gun Magazine, David Carson's arguments against Helvetica were based in the unimaginativeness of the font, and that it conveys nothing and allows no creativity. This of course came from a man who has demonstrated incredible artistry with his manipulation of fonts, even publishing an article in his magazine in Wingdings because he thought it to be so boring, it wasn't worth being readable.

The other most ardent and perhaps hardest to sympathize with anti-Helvetica typographer was Paula Scher. Her hatred is partially based in the fact the large corporations and the government use Helvetica, so hence she associates it with her anti-establishment ideals. She went so far as to say 'Helvetica represents the Vietnam War', which I thought was pushing the envelope a little far.

Skillfully mixed into the pro/against interviews were numerous short montages of examples of the use of Helvetica out in the world at large. There was everything from people wearing sloganed t-shirts, billboards, road signs and tax forms all showing that Helvetica is so intergrated into our lives we don't even notice it.

From a personal perspective, I tend to lean a little towards the pro-Helvetica people, as I like things that are ordered, elegant and legible.

At the same time I equivocate Helvetica as being to fonts what Vanilla is to ice-cream. Vanilla is not exactly exciting or sexy, but you always know what you are getting, it's a classic that never really goes out of style and is reliable. To my mind, so is Helvetica.

After the film the director was on hand to answer questions. My favourite answer to a question as to whether he intended to make additional films about other fonts was "no, this is it - there will be no "Helvetica Two - Rise of the Serif".

BWAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAH.. yes, nerd humour I know, but I don't care!

Tortured by dance


As I have mentioned before, dance is the art form that I have the least affinity with. My podiatrist many years ago told me that due to my high arches I have dancers feet, yet my natural connectedness to dance stops at my ankles.

There are exceptions to this highly generalized negative attitude, such as the recent Philippe Découflé performance, yet just when I think my attitude is changing a performance comes along that sends me hurtling back to my dance non-predilection. This performance was by the Toronto contemporary dance company, Dance Makers.

To clarify, I have no beef with contemporary dance, when it's done well it's my favourite dance manifestation. There have also been times where I've seen dance performances so atrocious that I've been mesmerized and amused by the horror of them, so in a round about way I have enjoyed them too.

Dance Makers' performance fit into neither of these categories and was an experience of pure visual and mental torture.

I will concede that the performance was an excerpt from a forthcoming show so it didn't have the advantages of lighting and costume to help ease the pain, but my instincts are certain that the experience wouldn't have been any less horrific.

All artists tend to take themselves too seriously. If you work in any arts field, you quickly become aware as to just how self-consumed most "Creatives" are. The trick that makes this either charming or mesmerizing to the public, is the Creatives' mastery at transforming their egoism into charm, eccentricity, theatricality, joie de vivre or mischievous humour. These dancers obviously missed this crucial lesson and just appeared to be sullen and self-consumed.

When we arrived the dancers were scattered around the room intensely preparing, a bit of a kick here, a sway to the side there, but they were far too obviously oblivious of their onlookers. I knew that I was unimpressed with this micro-demonstration of their so called abilities when I thought to myself "couldn't they have done this in another room?"

The actual performance was in three parts - a duet, a group piece and a solo.

We were informed prior, that the duet was originally choreographed as a piece for two men but this performance was the "world premiere" interpretation featuring a male and female partnering. I wish I hadn't had the privilege, after ten minutes of watching the female dancer throw the male dancer around the room in a over-dramatized enactment of repeated rejection that had no subtly, variance or purpose my only thoughts were "man this guy likes to be dominated" and "I wouldn't think this piece was so trite if it had been two male dancers, but only just".

I can't really comment on the group piece as I was so utterly bored and horrified, I spent the duration trying to think of ways to read my book without being obvious. I do know that the dancers had direct input into the choreography, I would probably suggest that they desist with this practice in future.

The solo held my attention momentarily because the dancer was initially on a swing, I was drawn to the prop. Two minutes in I was once again mentally willing the performance to be over. The soloist appeared to be attempting to execute quasi-robotic movements. I have nothing against robotic inspired movements, the Melbourne based contemporary dance company Chunky Move often utilize them, except they do it convincingly, purposefully and often with an injection of irony of humour. This dancer's interpretation just looked odd and suggested that she might unfortunately be afflicted with turrets or epilepsy.

By the time I was finally released from the torturous experience I realized that a contributing factor in my negativity was how underwhelmed I was by the dancers' physicality and abilities. I envision dancers with lean, muscular yet graceful bodies that you can't help but envy. These 'dancers' didn't look like dancers and one in particular, I'm certain is anorexic, I couldn't look at as I found her so disturbing. I am relatively lean and have broad shoulders and strong legs, my housemate commented that I look more like a dancer than they do.

The other feeling I usually get when I see a professional dance performance is awe at the dancers' abilities and I often desperately wish I could move as they do. With this performance, which lacked any grace or technical mastery, I felt that with a bit of practice I could accomplish the moves myself, which is never a good thing.

I left with my in a nutshell description of the performance as being self-indulgent, drivel and would not recommend it to anyone.

Friday 20 April 2007

Hot Docs - first up, moon men



The Hot Docs Festival is ten days longs and features over 100 documentary films.

In The Shadow Of The Moon kicked off the festival last night. I was fortunate enough to be there courtesy of the Press Pass I obtained through work. I plan to make good use of it by seeing as many films as I can.

In The Shadow of the Moon was not amongst the numerous films I've diligently circled in the festival program as a 'must see'. However, I am very pleased I did.

The film features nine of the American astronauts who were part of NASA's Apollo missions to the moon in the 1960s and 1970s. The film's primary focus is on Apollo XI's first successful moon landing and it did a fantastic job of capturing the tension and excitement of that history making time. The archival footage from the missions is awe inspiring, hence actually awesome.

However, what truly made this film fabulous for me wasn't the magnitude of what was accomplished, it was the brilliant way the Director (David Sington) intermingled other elements from the astronauts' perspectives including equally historical events and personal accounts.

The film acknowledged that at the same time as the moon missions in the wider world there was the Vietnam War, and the rise of the Human Rights and Women's movements. The astronauts' talked about their guilt that their friends were fighting in Vietnam and commented on how insulated they were from the activities of the social movements.

Most of all, my very favourite element of the film was the astronauts themselves, as each of them are charismatic and very funny. For example, Buzz Aldrin confessed that although Neil Armstrong was the first man to walk on the moon, he Buzz, was the first to take a pee. Another astronaut when addressing the conspiracy theories that they never went to the moon at all, looked at the camera and emphatically said "OK, so if we were gong to fake it, why do it nine times, once would have been enough". Another astronaut said he delighted at the idea that he was made of 'The Right Stuff' even if he didn't really believe it.

The film wraps with the environmental message that our world is so fragile and that we shouldn't destroy it because there is no where else to go. The Director during question time later added that all of the astronauts get very impatient that it's taking everyone else so long to realize just how important this is.

From an entirely personal perspective, I wasn't born when man first walked on the moon so I have always taken it for granted that it had been done. My knowledge was so vague on the topic that I didn't know exactly what year it happened and wasn't even sure whether JFK had been assassinated or not prior (at least I am honest in my ignorance). Therefore, seeing this film was both educational and highly entertaining.

I would encourage everyone else to circle it in their programs as a film to see.

Thursday 19 April 2007

Going Green At Home - The Green Mortage


This week the Citizens Bank of Canada, in partnership with the Conservation Council of Ontario (CCO) and Green$aver, unveiled the Green Mortgage.

The partnership allows borrowers to match their environmental desires with their financial needs. We embrace the opportunity to help Ontarians conserve energy and reduce their environmental impact.

Each "Green Mortgage" holder will receive a blue curb-side recycling box containing ten compact fluorescent light bulbs, a registration rebate for a Green$aver Home Energy Audit worth $375, product samples, and coupons for trees, renewable power, car-sharing, and other environmental products and services.


As global warming becomes an increasingly more prominent and unavoidable issue, it's great to see clever, pro-active initiatives that encourage people to be environmentally responsible. Initiatives like the Green Mortgage are particularly positive because they provide people with the opportunity to 'go green' while simultaneously achieving their personal objectives, such as buying a house.

Well done, well done. We've come a long way in our thinking since the days when we thought not buying hairspray that had chloroflurocarbons was all that needed to be done at a personal level to save the environment.

Cuba - Gettin' Around Havana, Photo#16, 17 & 18




Photo# 16, 17 & 18
There are a multitude of choices for getting around Havana, though we did everything on foot.

I was quite desperate to catch a ride in one of the 'bubble taxis' as I called them but alas it wasn't meant to be.

As in other cities in the world, the horse and carriages were pretty much only for tourists. Yet, they looked so pretty and I gave a horse a pat.

We've all heard about the 1950s classic cars in Cuba. I was uncharacteristically cynical enough to think they would only be in tourist areas for show. I was utterly wrong, these cars are everywhere, driven by normal people. Most demonstrated Cubans loved of painting over things and were brightly coloured. My favourite was a 1950s Mercedes that had a fan in it, not air-conditioning but an actual motorized fan that was attached to the dashboard.

I promise this is the second last posting of photos from my Cuban trip. Thank you for your indulgence. The last post will concern my ongoing haunting of Hemmingway's ghost.

Photos: G.Szopa

Wednesday 18 April 2007

Making a Book Worm out of Canada's PM


Yann Martel, author of 'Life of Pi', winner of the Booker Prize has a new project as noted on his new website www.whatisstephenharperreading.ca.

"The Prime Minister did not speak during our brief tribute, certainly not. I don’t think he even looked up. The snarling business of Question Period having just ended, he was shuffling papers. I tried to bring him close to me with my eyes.

Who is this man? What makes him tick? No doubt he is busy. No doubt he is deluded by that busyness. No doubt being Prime Minister fills his entire consideration and froths his sense of busied importance to the very brim. And no doubt he sounds and governs like one who cares not a jot for the arts.

But he must have moments of stillness. And so this is what I propose to do: not to educate—that would be arrogant, less than that—to make suggestions to his stillness.

For as long as Stephen Harper is Prime Minister of Canada, I vow to send him every two weeks, mailed on a Monday, a book that has been known to expand stillness. That book will be inscribed and will be accompanied by a letter I will have written. I will faithfully report on every new book, every inscription, every letter, and any response I might get from the Prime Minister, on this website."


The back story can be read here.

The first book he has sent it 'The Death of Ivan Ilych', by Leo Tolstoy

I appreciate this on a number of angles including his originality and the way he has taken positive action to tackle something he views as being important. I think it's far more intelligent than writing a scathing article or marching in front of Parliament with a placard.

I am not the Prime Minister, and do take time out of each day to read. However, I would love someone to send me a book every two weeks, as I think we could all increase our appreciation of stillness.

Map of My World








According to TravBuddy I have visited 36 countries which makes up 19% of the world's countries thus far.

I am a big enough geek to like these sorts of maps as it spurs me on to travel more, though sometimes I feel a little faux counting the Vatican as a country.

I was a little amused to see that where every other country gets counted as a single entity, the U.S.A is represented by its individual states, not that they are self-important or anything.

My geeky side would like a map that can calculate how many kilometres I've logged in. What I'd like even more would be way of showing how long or how many times I've been to each place. For example I only spent a day in Japan but have lived in Canada for almost three years, and have visited France 15 times. I think coloured lines showing each trip would be cool too.

I should probably mention that my friend Kirrily and I have some informal rules on what it takes to add a country on to your list. This includes that you have to have left the airport, train station etc, hence why I can't count Slovakia, Texas or California.

Ok, that's enough geekiness now, even for me.

Tuesday 17 April 2007

Remembering Marilyn Goggin

Today, Kirrily rang me to let me know that our dear friend Marilyn had passed away. The news was not a complete surprise, as Marilyn was well into her eighties, but we both had felt she would always be there, the reality that she is gone is still yet to sink in.

I met the American born, but London residing Marilyn eleven years ago, when we took a William Blake class together as part of our Cambridge University Art History Summer School. The class was dry and uninspiring and Marilyn and I took to having our breaks together. She would chastise me for doodling in my notebook instead of concentrating, and then roar with laughter that she couldn't blame me given that the class "was so god damm ghastly boring".

Little did I know then that I was on my way to becoming one of trio known as "Marilyn's Australians", taking the role of her brunette complimented by blonde Melinda and red headed Kirrily.

Marilyn was a slight, fair woman but what she lacked in stature she made up for with her personality, she embodied the word cantankerous. I imagine her personality as being roughly the same height as the Empire State Building in New York City. Her voice was raspy and undulated like rolling waves in accordance to how animated she was about a subject (she was more often than not animated). Her laugh was huge and contagious and took up her entire being yet always seemed refined.

To call Marilyn passionate and opinionated is like calling the pyramids 'cute', as nothing can describe the magnitude of Marilyn's thirst for gaining and sharing knowledge. She had an opinion on everything and she was never backwards about coming forwards. I can see her now cocking her head to the side, surveying me after something I'd said or asked, then looking slightly to the sky, pursing her lips, half smiling before launching into a lecture on one of her many, many areas of knowledge. She was indeed a master storyteller and one of the few people I have asked to retell stories I had heard before over and over for the sheer enjoyment of them.

Her primary interests were art history, geography, American history, literature, classic black and white films and her three girl's romantic lives. She was always taking numerous classes at the V&A, Mayfair Library and numerous other institutions. One of her favourite museums was the Wallace Collection.

She would indulge my 'modern/contemporary art fancies' by using her membership to get me into the Royal Academy. Afterwards, she would theatrically announce to everyone that she had "endured that ghastly exhibit of rubbish by that Lempicka woman, who I think liked the girls, only because Clare insisted that she had to see it". Visits to the Royal Academy were usually followed up by afternoon tea at the Fortum and Mason. However, the exhibit that I think we both enjoyed visiting together the most was the Tiara Exhibit at the V&A in 2002. For once, we both equally liked the subject matter, and we happily selected a tiara of choice each and discussed light refraction.

Discussions with Marilyn usually involved books from her substantial collection. Not one or two books but mountains of books. Anything discussed, had to be checked and researched and I spent many an evening hunting down and then surrounded by piles of informative tomes. She would also often tell stories about her life in California with her beloved husband Roe. I used to envision the fabulous cocktail parties and golf tournaments in my head that she described.

I spent the first three years that I knew Marilyn living nearby and for a short period of time with her. She was my family during my London life and remained so after I returned to Australia and moved to Canada.

Some of my fondest memories of those first London years include Marilyn and my mother getting tipsy together on new year's eve watching the fireworks from her apartment, and ringing me to tell me what a wonderful time they were having, the party I was at seem utterly dull by comparison. The truly most bizarre Christmas I have ever had, that even now I can't really explain, that ended with parlor games at Noel Coward's former residence at Sloan Square. Also, less dramatic events like Marilyn marching me to the optometrist to get new glasses prescription (I still have the glasses we brought that day) when she decided my eyesight had deteriorated.

My favourite comic episode was the 'cricket'. After a couple of weeks of hearing almost constant chirping we were convinced that a cricket was living in the walls of her apartment. We researched the cricket to ensure that it wouldn't eat her books and I would greet it when I arrived at the apartment. I think we were all equally disappointed when Miguel disclosed to us that our 'pet' cricket was actually the battery from her smoke alarm indicating that the battery needed to be changed.

When I moved back to Australia my contact with Marilyn was reduced to postcards and letters and a brief visit after Marie-Pierre's wedding. Yet when I decided to move to Canada, I think my subconscious deliberately chose Marilyn as my last stop before I plunged into the then unknown depths of my Canadian life.

When I was in my early twenties and more fiery, Marilyn and I tended to argue as we were both strong-willed and I didn't like be bossed around and yelled at all the time. Yet, the ten days that I spent with Marilyn before leaving for Canada, just after turning 30, was the most peaceful and harmonious time we shared together. It should probably be noted that Marilyn commented on this saying that I was finally growing up but chuckled that part of her missed my more reactionary temperament.

We didn't run from exhibit to exhibit with quite the same fervor that we had eight years before and spent more time repotting plants on her balcony (she yelled at me because I did everything wrong) and watching classic films on television. Most of all, and what I will always cherish most, were the long evenings we spent talking, smoking and drinking together, often until 3am. When people chastised her for smoking she would often proclaim that she had been smoking longer than they had been alive, which usually shut them up. Our conversations didn't focus on art and history as much as they did on relationships and fears and everything in between. Marilyn was always telling we girls to find someone to love and looked forward to coming to our weddings in Australia, fortunately Melinda was able to make this a reality when she married Juan last year.

When I confessed my terror at my imminent move to Canada she was characteristically blunt but also gentle. She told me in no uncertain terms that the move would indeed be tough at first and that I needed the change. She was adamant that once I had formed my Canadian life, a task she felt I was more than strong enough for, I would most certainly realize that I had pretty much rebuilt that same life that I'd had in London and in Australia, as my geography could change but my interests, likes and personality could not. She was right.

After moving to Canada I was consumed by trying to build my life here so in the past few years I have been more than an errant correspondent. I know she was mad at me for not being able to make Melinda's wedding last year. I deeply regret that I wasn't able to meet her in New York City two years ago.

I will put regrets aside though, as this is for Marilyn who would not want me to rabbit on about things I didn't or should have done.

Marilyn, I will miss you dearly and visiting London will never be the same, but I know wherever you are, you are drinking a scotch on the rocks, smoking a More's cigarette and laughing.

The Landlord


Finding Will Ferrel funny is my not so secret dirty little secret. This is pure gold. You go get'em Pearl!

Cuba - Che & Fidel, Photo#11, 12, 13, 14 & 15






Photo#11, 12, 13, 14 & 15
You can't go to Cuba and not mention Che and Fidel.

There are posters, signs, books and souvenirs dedicated to them everywhere. Some of it's propaganda, some of it's supportive graffiti and some of it's tourist commercialism.

The photos I've posted were taken in Havana (Che stencils), at the bus station between Havana and Varadero (Siempre Fidel) and outside the Communist Union in Varadero.

There appears to be a genuine affection by Cubans for them both that is far more interesting to me that the global 'cult of Che'.

Regardless, Che most likely wouldn't be too thrilled that his image has been made into an aesthetic commodity by 'Pepe the Crocodile'.

Photos: G.Szopa

Cuba - jaula pájaro, Photo#7, 8, 9, 10





Photo#7, 8, 9 & 10
Each jaula pájaro (bird cage) shot was taken in Havana as we wandered around the city. The third photo is of ceramic tiles inlaid into the pavement near our hotel. Note that the tile cage doesn't have a bird inside and the door is open.

If I was more deluded and pretentious I would probably make some kind of existentialist, esoteric comment on how the bird cages are a metaphor for Cuban society under communism.

However, given that photos were not taken intentionally with that thought in mind, and that such a metaphor would be quite removed from my own thinking on the subject I won't be doing that.

Instead, I invite you to just enjoy the photos as I have.

Photos: C.Leporati & G.Szopa

Monday 16 April 2007

Another new bride-to-be!


During the time that I was 27/28 years old I went to twelve weddings. It was a bridal bonanza for a few years there. Not that I minded, as I have mentioned before, I really like weddings. I will sheepishly admit that I also really like getting all dressed up and buying outfits to wear to weddings.

Then things settled down and the weddings were few and far between but I had been warned that when you get close to your mid-thirties things heat up and the frenzy begins again. It looks like they might be right.

Congratulations Nele & Simon on your engagement!

I have known Nele since we studied together at the Cambridge University Art History Summer School in England eleven years ago. Despite both of us moving continent more than once we have always managed to stay in relatively frequent contact and she is one of my most favourite people out there.

I always have a wonderful, wonderful time when we are together and I can't wait to help celebrate her marriage in France. I am hoping that it might also mean another mini-reunion of the other Cambridge friends we share as we haven't all been together since Marie-Pierre's wedding five years ago.

They say, everything comes in threes, so I am trying to work out who to wager will be next. Julie and Jim I think I am placing my money on you!

Ikea = goldilocks complex


Unfortunately, Ikea and I are just not meant to be and whenever I visit I leave with a Goldilocks complex.

Please don't mistake me here, I am not prone to breaking into bears' houses and ruining all their stuff like the original G-brat.

Yet, my trips to Ikea more often than not are the same sad story.

I always like the idea of going to Ikea, call it the effect of clever marketing. I also, like the good consumerist that I am, enjoy looking at their catalogues (particularly the one with the dirty dog, you know you know what I am talking about.. hehehehe).

Yet, time and time again once I get there (the journey is also a pain when you don't have a car) my experience tends to be frustrating and unfruitful.

Why? Unfortunately, like Goldilocks at the bears' house, two out of three things at Ikea don't fit me!

For example, Sibel and I trudged out to Ikea yesterday. My shopping list was modest. All I needed was a lamp, some pots for my plants, and perhaps some new bedsheets.

Yet the Goldilocks Complex was in full force.

I have a double-sized bed. Unfortunately Ikea only makes its sheets in Single, Queen or King. Therefore their sheets are either tooo big or tooo small and nothing is just right.

My plants have grown and need to be re-potted. All of Ikea's plant pots were either tooo big, or tooo small, nothing was just right.

I needed a small lamp for my bedroom. There were lamps that were tooo big and there were lamps that were tooo ugly but miracle of miracles I did find one that was just right. Just right that is until I got home and discovered that none of our bulbs would fit. ARGHHHHHHHH!!!

Ikea may, for some, provide affordable solutions for better living but I think I would rather hang out with the bears, at least Goldilocks always eventually found what she needed.

Friday 13 April 2007

Cuba - hotel vista, Photo#7


Photo#7
This photo was taken in Havana from the balcony of our hotel. The hotel is halfway down the Paseo del Prado (The Prado), the border between Centro Habana and La Habana Vieja. Although the hotel itself is basic the location is brilliant and the view from the hotel quite lovely in both directions.

The view in this photo shows the port in the background, and the balconies of the turquoise building next door, that I really liked. In the other direction, we looked directly on to the Capitolo building (which was ironically architecturally inspired by the U.S White House). There is a photo of this view too, but what you can see most is me and given that I am in no way, shape or form a morning person (which is when the photo was taken) that shot will be not be seeing the light of day yet alone the web.

Photo: G.Szopa

Paraskevidekatriaphobia - fear of Friday the 13th


Paraskevidekatriaphobia (you try to pronounce it) is the term, like other phobias, to describe a morbid and irrational fear of something, in this case Friday the 13th.

The word that is derived from the concatenation of the Greek words Παρασκευή, δεκατρείς, and φοβία, meaning Friday, thirteen, and phobia respectively; alternate spellings include paraskevodekatriaphobia or paraskevidekatriaphobia.

TRIVIA: In any given year there will be at least one and at most three Friday 13ths.

If you were a teenager in the 1980s and 1990s the first reference that comes to mind with this supposedly ominous date is the series of horror films, yet the superstition surrounding this date-meets-day recurrence is actually much older.

The concept of Friday the 13th being a day of bad luck occurs in English, German, Polish and Spanish cultures (in Greece and Spain it's Tuesday 13th).

Despite many people exploring historical references and even taking studies to see if in fact Friday the 13th is unluckier than other days no absolute explanation for the superstition can be identified.

A number of researchers can attribute reasons for the naming of either Fridays or the number 13 as being unlucky but few can categorically connect the two prior to the early 1900s.

Some theories include historical references to the arrest of many of the Knights Templar on Friday, October 13, 1307 by King Philip IV, or because Judas was the 13th Apostle who betrayed Jesus who died on a Friday.

Other theories relate to the ancient Egyptians, the sacking of Constantinople, Eve giving apples to Adam and so on.

Personally, the day doesn't affect me but I have to say with all the 'historical' material to draw from you'd think the film producers could have come up with a better story scenario than a hockey mask wearing psycho bumping off kids at summer camp. Seriously, the lack of imagination and the lost story line opportunity is far more disturbing than the blood thirsty films (all 14 of them).


Additional Sources:
Snopes
Urban Legends

Welcome Sasha Jayne Turner


My friend Kristina welcomed her daughter Sasha Jayne Turner, on March 28 at 11.35am. She weighed 6 pounds 14 ounces and was 18 inches long

Welcome Sasha, I am looking forward to meeting you!

I think she looks a little like a gumnut baby in her hat, adorable.

Here comes the aesthetic nightmare...

One of my favourite couples ever, Kirsten and Frank, recently announced their engagement after dating for eight years. I am very excited for them and will be busting my arse to try to make it to Melbourne for the wedding, as I would be miserable if I missed it.

Congratulations Kirsten and Frank!


I love weddings as I think they are not only the ultimate demonstration of optimism in these somewhat cynical times but great parties.

Their happy announcement made me reflect on how in recent years the emergence of the term 'bridizalla' has given weddings a different twist, as some are indeed absurd in their excesses. I have also at times been completely baffled by women, who under normal circumstances I thought to have reasonable dress sense, who chose the most hideous wedding dresses, usually featuring an unrestrained explosion of lace, tulle, satin, taffeta and beading. For a while I had a theory that the placement of the engagement ring on the finger actually somehow deactivated the part of the brain that determines good dress sense and restraint. One bride, insisted and openly promoted that her wedding was "Cindrella" themed. This included traveling in a glass carriage on a 40 degree day and I am certain there was a tulle and satin shortage in the city for some time afterwards.

I even found a website dedicated to documenting some of these atrocities, appropriately called www.uglydress.com.

Below, is one of my favourite samples from the site:

Fortunately, all of my friends who have gotten married managed to avoid the ugly-dress-total-loss-of-taste-affliction and looked beautiful, tasteful and elegant and I know Kirsten will too.

Thursday 12 April 2007

Sarah Kurtis - appreciation from the silent arts lover

Last night I went to see singer Sarah Curtis perform accompanied by the charismatic and delightful guitarist Joel Schwartz at Tranzac

Tranzac ironically stands for 'Toronto Australia and New Zealand Club', though I am not sure where the 'r' comes into it.

The performance was great and I find her music to be very smooth and soothing and apparently it's somewhat of a mix of folk and blue grass. Kurt's comparison to Sarah Harmer was pretty spot on.

As a brief tangent, why are so many Canadian chanteuse called Sarah, be it Harmer, Slean, Kurtis of McLachlan?

As I listened I realized that despite having been gung-ho supportive of and working for the arts for as long as I can remember music is my Achilles heel. My interactions with the arts are focused on the visual arts, writing and museums with a pinch of design, all primarily visually based pursuits. You could say my realm of the arts is predominantly a silent one.

My interest in music has always been transient and superficial, I think I've dabbled in listening to everything relatively equally, and for some reason tunes have never spoken to my soul or assisted in shaping my identity as it has for other people.

Being asked what music I was into when I was at high school almost constituted a form of torture. I could never really answer the question, not because I was trying to avoid the classification that comes with it at that age, but more because I could never commit sufficiently to anything in particular. Music for me tended to be more like my 'life sound track' changing according to my context and mood and didn't really hold any consistency of style.

That being said, one of my few regrets is that I do not know how to play a musical instrument. I imagine I will eventually do something about this and can already see myself, in my twilight years, hammering away at the piano keys practicing my scales whilst simultaneously causing other people aural pain.

So with all of that in mind I have to say I did indeed enjoy last night's show. I can't go into detail about the skill level of the musicians or the complication of the composition, but I can say I liked it, and on a gloomy evening filled with rain it suited the context perfectly.

Wednesday 11 April 2007

Knut - unbearably cute


I am not usually keen on posting cutsie images, but this bear is almost criminally adorable.

My favourite take on it all was on the Colbert Report. Seems this ball of cutesy fur is irresistible even to Stephen-bear-hater-Colbert.

Cuba - architecture, Photo#4, 5 & 6




Photo#4, 5 & 6
More shots of Havana architecture on the fringe of the old city, not everything requires a lengthy commentary.

Photographer's Note: The middle shot is slightly out of focus, as this photography novice is still learning how to control the zoom function properly. I think my favourite shot is the one at the top.

Photos: C.Leporati

Cuba - on the street, Photo#3


Photo#3
Once again this photo was taken in Old Havana but a little further away from the main tourist streets that have had their buildings and streets refurbished.

Although the refurbished streets were gorgeous archtitecturally, there was something about the areas that hadn't been 'touristified', as I called it, that was significantly more real to me and no less beautiful. Knowing that eventually these streets are bound to be 'done up' over time made me appreciate them even more.

As you would expect Greg and I had a number of discussions about how the architectural dilapidation that we found so charming is in reality probably a rough way to live. We also pondered how once the 'touristication' takes hold, where will the people living there go, as we assumed it would mean the further infiltration by hotels and the like and increases in rent costs etc.

Idealistically, although the tourist contribution to the economy is significant, it is a shame that changes are made to accommodate the comfort of vacationers before the residents.

Yes, I am being a little socialist and idealist.. Blame Che if you will!

Cuba - newspaper man, Photo#2

Photo#2
I met this gentleman in Old Havana and brought a newspaper from him. As we tried to speak to each other, I wished (as I did often while I was in Cuba) that I spoke more than basic, tourist Spanish. Regardless, we smiled at each other a lot and somehow managed to communicate.

I wish I was as photogenic and relaxed in front of a camera as he is.

Photo: C.Leporati

Cuba - uncharacteristic snap happiness, Photo#1


I am known for never taking photos, if I take a camera at all, when I travel. This trip was different, I was pretty snap happy, and Greg and I still have to collate and sort our photos.

I don't want to be entirely self-indulgent and inundate people with a never-ending stack of photos, nor do I want to act like I am the only person who has ever been to Cuba, or on a trip ever. Therefore, I will only post my favourite photos and hope people will indulge me a little.

Photo #1:
This photo was taken in Old Havana. I will be honest enough to say I like it primarily because the building was so beautiful, but also because it was one of the first photos I have ever taken that I think actually doesn't look too bad.

Photo: C.Leporati

Tuesday 10 April 2007

Blogetiquette - blog and play nice or else?



The CBC has reported that Tim O'Reilly is proposing the introduction of the Blogger's Code Of Conduct. The first draft of the code has appeared on his website and on Wikipedia founder Jimmy Wales' site wikia.com.

The development of the code is cited as a reaction to events such as the suspension of prominent blogger Kathy Sierra's blog due to violence and death threat postings on her blog and on other websites.

Personally, I am in two minds about the proposed code, though I have to admit I have done no more than scan read it at this stage. On one hand I think that basic courtesy and respect for people's rights and privacy should always be a given, hence the code could be a useful tool to reinforce that. On the other hand, in our increasingly regimented society where there are so many rules and regulations for absolutley everything, part of me is a little saddened that the code is deemed necessary, even if it's intended to be self regulated.

Technorati, the blog-indexing company, cites that there are some 74.9 million blogs on the net, so obviously if the code is required not everyone was taught that if you can't say anything nice, you are better off saying nothing at all.

Quite the Orchard - 100 million Apple iPods



Apple® today announced that the 100 millionth iPod® has been sold, making the iPod the fastest selling music player in history. The first iPod was sold five and a half years ago, in November 2001, and since then Apple has introduced more than 10 new iPod models.

“At this historic milestone, we want to thank music lovers everywhere for making iPod such an incredible success,” said Steve Jobs, Apple’s CEO."

Press Contact:Tom Neumayr, Apple

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I own a shuffle and just about everyone I know owns some manifestation of an iPod, be it a Nano or Mini. One friend (who admittedly does work for Apple) owns five, each one devoted to a different type of music.

It wasn't long ago that seeing the white ears buds on someone as they walked down the street was a designation of the 'cool techno-hip'. I still remember arriving in Toronto and seeing the posters and ads with the black silhouettes on brightly coloured backgrounds dancing to 'Do You Want To Be My Girl' by Melbourne band Jet.

Despite not normally being interested in technology (I was using a Sony Walkman radio/tape deck at the time and owned all of 13 CDs, yes 13) I desperately wanted one and soon joined the 'revolution'. I loved the packaging almost as much as the product, as it often the way with anything Apple.

Call it what you wish, I do love my iPod and it would appear so do 100 other million people.

Howze them apples!

Monday 9 April 2007

Snow in Cuba - small ironies


Sometimes it is the small ironies that amuse me most.

I just spent a week in Cuba on holiday. In all likelihood I will rave on about my most enjoyable trip with accompanying photos in the next few days.

For the moment I am just enjoying the irony that I spent most of the week, sitting either on the beach or by the pool in the lovely warm sunshine reading a book called 'Snow', which incidentally is a great read and the author deserved to win the Nobel Prize for Literature.