O happy day!!! Tonight I found out that Victoria, my favourite magazine ever (which ceased publication four years ago) has been relaunched!
I was doing some shopping earlier at La Cache (always big Victoria advertisers) and spied a stack of magazines on the shelf. At first, I thought they were copies of Victoria decorating or cook books (since those are still in print), or perhaps some old issues being used as a display prop. It was only when I picked one up and saw the cover headline that the penny dropped.
I was gobsmacked. The salesgirls had a giggle at me, and said they've lost count of how many women have come into the shop over the past week or two, seen the magazine, and had the same utterly delighted reaction.
Though the new Victoria is only going to be a bimonthly to start, and has a new editor and publisher at the helm, so far everything bodes well. It looks exactly the same inside as it always did (and sure, that means it's still twee as all hell - but I love it anyway). Even their old website has been relaunched, complete with readers' forum.
Needless to say, I have once again filled out a subscription card. YAY!!!!!
Ever heard of an initiative called the "Memory of the World"? I hadn't, until yesterday. It's a really interesting and valuable project being spearheaded by UNESCO, which aims to publicise and preserve important library collections and archive holdings around the world. There's a committee that meets regularly to decide on what material should be added to the project's register.
I read about the project in this weekend's paper, which reported that some Canadian collections (including the Hudson's Bay Company archive) were chosen this year for the first time, for inclusion on the register. There's certainly a fascinating, global cross-section of documents that have been recognised - not just books and manuscripts, but also audio recordings (Beethoven's Symphony No. 9, from Germany),
film (The Wizard of Oz - thanks America), and material items (the Bayeux Tapestry, from France).
Very neat stuff.
I heard the most remarkable news story on CBC radio this evening (see a print version here, from The Guardian). It concerned a group of French "cultural guerillas" who sneaked into the Panthéon in Paris after hours to undertake the illicit repair of an old, broken clock. The group is called the Untergunther, and their mission is to restore France's cultural heritage on the sly. Apparently, they constitute the "restoration cell" (!) of a wider clandestine cultural movement in Paris called the UX, whose members do things like break into public buildings at night to stage cultural events.
The Untergunther seem to be drawn to projects which the French state has neglected - hence the Panthéon's broken clock, which had been left to rust since the 1960s. Members got themselves locked into the building one evening, set up a secret workshop under the eaves, and laboured for a year on the restoration, under the direction of a professional clockmaker. Much to the embarrassment of bureaucrats, they were never discovered by security and were only revealed when they contacted the Panthéon's officials themselves, to point out what they had done so that the repaired clock could henceforth be properly maintained.
I'm utterly taken by this story. I guess you could call it cultural vigilantism. Obviously it's not something to be encouraged, but secretly I love the idea of such people, who are so committed to cultural heritage that they brazenly circumvent red tape and act where the state cannot. Naturally, the Untergunther are already at work on their next project - the details of which are being closely guarded, for obvious reasons. I wonder what it will be?
File this one under "Completely Awesome...Please Can I Hang Out With You Guys?"
Annnnnd the epic drama continues! Yesterday, the media breathlessly revealed the real reason Celine Dion's concert here was cancelled abruptly last week. Apparently, we Haligonians were just so darn mean to poor Celine that she decided to take her ball and go play at somebody else's house.
This shite is really quite funny, I must say.
Far be it for me to belittle the extremely serious political situation in Pakistan these days. But though it's shallow of me to say so, I really have been struck by the level of glamour and attractiveness evident in Pakistan's opposition right now. I wonder about the degree to which this may (or may not) be influencing Western media coverage of current events there.
I've followed the fortunes of Benazir Bhutto since I was quite young. I remember when she first swept to power in Pakistan in 1988 and found her to be quite a compelling figure. To be honest, this was not only because of her eloquence and strong political convictions, but also because of her beauty and elegance.
More recently, I've watched with some bemusement as Imran Khan has morphed from cricket star and British society figure (having married the heiress Jemima Goldsmith and become minor UK tabloid fodder during the later 1990s as a result) to a member of the opposition movement against Musharraf. Like Bhutto, he too is strikingly attractive, Oxford-educated, worldly and charismatic. And he seems to have the courage of his convictions too, having been thrown into prison last week and commenced a hunger strike in protest (the BBC reports that he has just been released today).
Scientists tell us that physical appearance is a far greater influence on our estimation of others than many of us would care to admit. So I suspect I'm not the only person to have noticed the likes of Bhutto and Khan in this way.
After a growing season of over five months (including a final month inside the house, to protect the plants from frost), today I harvested our crop of orange peppers. Here it is:
Ah, vanity gardening. Heh heh!
Last night at Neptune, I took W. to see a new play in the Studio. It was The Veil by Shahin Sayadi, and it was very good. I was expecting it to be a little over-earnest, but was pleasantly surprised. The story (of a Persian princess, set against the history of Iran in the 20th century) was pretty compelling, and I enjoyed it for both its political content and its depiction of women's lives and the relationships between women in families.
Given that this play is brand-new, and was staged by a small local independent theatre company, I thought it was exceptionally good. One of the best things I've seen at Neptune, for sure.
On Sunday afternoon, J. and I visited the Frick Collection, an art museum in New York City. The core of the collectio
n consists of works acquired by the American industrialist Henry Clay Frick (1849-1919), and it's housed in the enormous stately townhouse he built for himself on Fifth Avenue.
Nearly all the art on display is European, and dates from the Middle Ages to the early 20th century - though the most notable works are 17th to 19th century. It was one of the best art museums I've ever visited - and not just because it housed quite a few exceptional pictures. I loved the fact that the layout and atmosphere of the Frick home has been preserved, so visitors can see the collection displayed in the way it was originally intended. It's also quite small, as art galleries go - you can comfortably see everything in only two to three hours, which is excellent as I suffer easily from art fatigue.
Here are some of my favourite pictures:
The collection is quite strong in 18th-century British painting, featuring works by Turner, Constable, Lawrence, Reynolds and Gainsborough, among others. George Romney's Lady Hamilton as 'Nature' (1782) is a classically lovely, Romantic portrait. Plus, I've always found Emma Hamilton to be a fascinating figure (she was the paramour of Lord Nelson, the hero of the Battle of Trafalgar).
The realism of Hans Holbein the Younger's Sir Thomas More (1527) is astonishing - enhanced, I'm sure, by a bloody good cleaning job fairly recently. There's no evidence of the grime of centuries here. I just found myself mesmerised by More's chin stubble and his velvet sleeves.
In the museum's final room were two pairs of amazing portraits by James McNeill Whistler.
Got back from New York City late (unexpectedly, very late) on Monday evening. While I ended up having a great time, it was a rollercoaster of a weekend.The main reason J. and I planned this trip was to see one show in a very special series of concerts by our favourite band on Saturday night. The venue for this particular show was a Broadway theatre, and it was staged in three "acts". It was quite unlike any show they've ever done before - we simply couldn't wait to see it, especially as it was nearing the end of its nearly two-week run and the reviews from other fans had been fantastic.
And then, on Saturday morning...the Broadway stagehands decided to go on strike. Nearly all the theatres shut down immediately, and shows were cancelled until further notice - including our show. We couldn't believe it - it seemed like a bad dream. The band managed to reschedule their final two shows at a rock club in the city, but it was too late for me to see them, as I had to leave on Monday. All I can do is console myself with fan-made videos of this show on YouTube, now. :-(
We ended up getting together that evening with some other disappointed fans, went out for dinner and drinks, and made the best of it. I ended up in a pub in Greenwich Village with my good friend C. and some other folks as well, which was great fun - just not quite the evening all of us had planned!
Fortunately the rest of our visit went really well. J. treated us to two nights in a lovely room at the Mercer Hotel, which we thoroughly enjoyed (especially the huge marble bathtub). We had a fab visit to the galleries of the Frick Collection (about which I will blog separately) on Sunday afternoon, and I even managed to squeeze in a little Christmas shopping in SoHo.
The former Afghan parliamentarian and women's rights advocate Malalai Joya is doing a cross-Canada tour at the moment, and she's speaking at my university tonight. I suspect there will be a very big turnout, given the high profile of Afghanistan these days. I actually helped organize the event, so I'm really sorry to be missing her talk. But with my trip tomorrow I was just too busy getting ready to attend.
Instead, I went to the press conference she gave on campus this afternoon, so I got to hear her speak for a short time, at least. She's an incredibly interesting and brave woman. I first found out about her a few months ago, when a documentary film about her (called A Woman Among Warlords) was shown on PBS.
I'm off tomorrow for a long weekend in New York City. Yes, again. J. and I celebrate our birthdays this weekend, and so we're doing our usual jaunt somewhere fun. So far, we've only just nibbled at the Big Apple, so why not return?
Doing a Broadway show Saturday night, and some galleries, fab meals and Christmas shopping too. Woohoo!
Ever since the Rolling Stones played the Halifax Common last year, the city council has been working feverishly to attract more big-name acts for concerts here. Over the past few months, there have been all kinds of rumours about who might be coming (like U2...dream on, kids) to give the Next Big Show.
Well, today it was officially announced that the next Commons concert has been confirmed for this August. And who will grace the stage in front of tens of thousands of eager fans?
Celine Dion.
*falls about laughing*
We braved last night's wind- and rainstorm (as we were lashed by the tail end of Hurricane Noel) and kept our original plans for go out for dinner and a play at Neptune.
Arrived at the Halliburton House Inn fairly damp, but none the worse for wear. Stories, their restaurant, is one of my favourite small restos in Halifax. We were last there about three years ago, so it was high time for another visit. As expected, we had a very memorable meal (and very private, too - due to the weather, there was only one other party of diners in the entire place). We decided to go for their current seasonal tasting menu, the "Game and Ale Immersion", which was basically a five-course meal focused around wild game, and featuring beer and ale pairings with each course, instead of wine. It was very different, and quite successful - we enjoyed it a lot. Here's what we ate and drank:
- Amuse-Bouche: Digby scallop with butter and herbs
- First: Smoked Muscovy duck with apple-fennel slaw and cassis / Belhaven fruit beer (Scotland)
- Second: Roasted squash soup with caribou ravioli and toasted pumpkin seeds / Samuel Smith's Nut-Brown Ale (England)
- Third: Abbey Blue cheese (Quebec), with golden and red beets and a fig port reduction / Chimay Red Label Ale (Belgium)
- Main: Grilled bison and caribou steaks with scalloped potato and veg / Le Fin du Monde (Quebec)
- Dessert: Flourless chocolate cake with Amaretto ice cream, and Madeira pots de crème / Propeller Porter (Nova Scotia)
Needless to say, after all that meat and beer, we fairly rolled out of the restaurant and into our taxi for the short trip to Neptune. (We'd have been well-advised to walk off some of that meal, but it was most definitely not an evening for strolling.) We saw The Vertical Hour, a relatively new play which debuted in New York last year. Quite political, but I thought it was generally all right. I'd heard very mixed reviews about it, so wasn't sure what to expect - but it wasn't bad. Not the best thing I've ever seen at Neptune, though.
I must rave about a television series I've just finished watching. It's called Buildings That Shaped Britain and it was an eight-part series shown on BBC Canada. The last episode was just screened this past weekend, but it's likely that BBC Canada will repeat it (at least I hope so, as I missed the first two episodes in the series).
Anyway, it's an absolutely excellent programme on architectural history, but it was so much more than that. Beginning in the Middle Ages and coming up to the late 20th century, all the main developments were surveyed (and beautifully photographed). But what really impressed me was the way that it related these amazing buildings to wider social, cultural, economic and political contexts.
I need to figure out how to transfer these episodes from my DVR's hard disc, as I'm itching to show them to students, next time I teach. The best episodes, in my opinion, were the ones on the development of the country house in the 18th century, and the rise of industrial architecture (oh those dark Satanic mills!) in the 19th century. Fantastic (and unbelieveably interesting) stuff - I think students would enjoy these programmes, as they really brought the subject alive.
I suppose that at some point, I'll also need contact the production company that made the series, to get permission to screen it in future and thus avoid persecution by dull copyright-infringement wonks....
I was gobsmacked. The salesgirls had a giggle at me, and said they've lost count of how many women have come into the shop over the past week or two, seen the magazine, and had the same utterly delighted reaction.
