Brian Wilson, The Tate St Ives and the Beach Boys

During a typically wet British May bank holiday week end, Mrs Maytrees
and I visited Brian Wilson's "If everybody had an Ocean" art exhibition
at the Tate St Ives in Cornwall.

Disappointment was our joint and several reaction. There was a little
music by the Beach Boys which livened up the queue for the entrance tickets
in the exterior ampitheatre which is interestingly constructed
at the St Ives Tate's entrance.

I suppose that the incessant rain could have
put a dampner on our appreciation of the exhibition but the back drop of
huge breakers and fierce winds on the beach outside was really
dramatic and should have enhanced the exhibition and perhaps would
have, had the displays or even the gallery's atmosphere been worth a visit
which in my humble opinion they were not.
Usually the atmosphere at the Tate St Ives does make for
a worthwhile afternoon there but this time there was a greyness.
More Beach Boys' music within the galleries would have helped but in the main,
their music was noticeable by its absence

Many photographs of cars and people from the Beach Boys' era;
a few paintings which provided little of interest and
even less food for the imagination seem almost to sum it all up.

I wondered if Brian Wilson
and maybe even the other Beach Boys, whose era pre dates the current vogue for
celebrity status, were almost trying to capitalise on the 21st century
cult of the celebrity. The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and others
of that era did of course attract many followers but "groupies" as
such followers were often called, did not, at least in the early years,
become the kind of cult followers or worshippers of "celebrities",
that happens so often today, an extreme example of this being
Lady Diana RIP.

I would rather leave the great Beach Boys' music where
it is and restrict worship to the real God.

As a post script I see from the official blurb that the exhibition
was not authorised by Brian Wilson or the Beach Boys. Well done them.
Responsibility for encouraging the celebrity cult mentioned above
would therefore seem to be that of the Art establishment.

The Passing of an Old Friend

Brian Burgess died today aged 58.

He was very good friend, man and boy, for some 45 years.

I last spoke with Brian at length, at about midnight on our way
to and from the Grotto in Lourdes during the HCPT 2007 Easter
week pilgrimage in April. In addition to being chairman of trustees
of the Ursuline Prep School, he had for many years been a trustee of HCPT.

First and foremost he was a good husband and father of his family
and a good friend to many, including myself.

He will be greatly missed.


RIP

Helicopter Happenings

The 4 maytrees' children having clubbed together to buy me a birthday
present of a Saturday helicopter joyride, I duly took off
from Redhill Aerodrome in a tiny 'copter yesterday. By coincidence
the flight path went back over the same part of Wimbledon Common
that I had jogged over at ground level a few hours previously,
thence by way of Richmond Park to London.


Flying over the River Thames at c. 750 feet provided
some really spectacular views of London from vantage points
that I had not enjoyed before, including redundant
Battersea and Lots Road Power Stations, various Thames bridges,
London Railway stations and trains, The Houses of Parliament
London Eye, City buildings like the Gerkin, Canary Wharf, the ill fated Dome,
Thames Barrier, Greenwich Royal Observatory and the London Marathon Blackheath and Greenwhich starts.

The tiny size of the 'copter made for an exhilerating flight,
which was over all too soon. Redhill Aerodrome to Wimbledon Station
by car takes about 1 hour; by helicopter the same journey takes 12 minutes.

Feeble Use of Language

A glorious pre-breakfast jog over Wimbledon Common this morning in
brilliant sunshine, was marred by seeing (and hearing) an adult man shouting
a string of expletives at his pet dogs; old black labrador types.
By his accent and dress he seemed wealthy and well educated.

There is much adverse comment in the UK media these days about young "hoodies"
and loutish behaviour often fuelled by alcoholic drink. I doubt whether
the Common dog swearer had had much drink taken at 07:45 this morning
but heaven help any young people who might regard him as a role model.

Interesting to note that by contrast on the Sharecrazy bulletin
board, there appears to be a robot which goes into expletive deleted
mode whenever something possibly OTT offensive is printed. Many
other BB sites operate in the same way and newspapers likewise
often avoid printing bodily function expletives.

Personally I find that expletives tend to end debate and discussion.
They cause me to wonder if the swearer is lacking something
in his or her imagination department.
They tend to close down avenues of discussion.
The more frequently people have recourse to them the less
shock they are apt cause to the listener.
The Common swearer's dogs for example,
continued to explore the fox dens as if they had heard nothing.

My reaction was to feel sorry for the Common swearer,
who seemed not to be able to savour the glorious sunny morning
on Wimbledon Common today.

The Last Confession

Chichester's Festival Theatre made for an unusual birthday treat
venue. 'The Last Confession', which is currently being staged there,
is an unusual play; a mix of the sacred and profane; fact and fiction, power
and politics and religion and mammon.

Vatican's Cardinal Benelli, who is perceived as the principal
popemaker in 1978, is played brilliantly by David Suchet of
Inspector Poirot fame.
Great acting on stage of his calibre is riveting to
watch/lose oneself in.
The play centres on the all too brief, only 33 days,
papacy of Cardinal Luciani in that year as Pope John Paul I. Cardinal
Luciani aka Pope John Paul I, as acted by Richard O'Callaghan, bears a
striking resemblance to Wimbledon's Bishop Howard Tripp.

The Play begins and ends with David Suchet's confession being
heard by a high ranking Vatican priest.
The rumours about John Paul I having been murdered
are rather like the conspiracy theories surrounding 9/11 but
although the actual murder of the pontiff in 1978 seems as unlikely
as the FBI being responsible for 9/11,
the play does throw open the possibility that the Curia's wheeling
and dealing along with the machinations by the likes of
of Bishop Marcinkus and Roberto Calvi, were the death of poor old
loveable JP I.

The stage scenery is brilliant as are the costumes depicting
the scarlets, purples and blacks of the Roman Vatican dress code.

Human touches included JP I's exasparation about ersatz Vatican
coffee, Sister Vincenza's love and loyalty extending
to securing a decent coffee maker for him and his
refusal to countenace all the pomp and circumstance that
the three tiered papal tiara had previously implied.

The apparent reluctance
of the Curia in 1978 to embrace the changes supposed to
be being brought about by the second Vatican Council in the 1960s,
still resonates today

British Regional Elections

Well done the Scottish and Welsh National Parties;
Tories too though could do better.
LibDems need morehomework or another leader.
Labour presently out of favour.

All the newspaper reports seem to follow the above themes
as regards the actual results and there is also
much criticism of the actual electoral arrangements
in Scotland but nowhere have I seen any
analysis of whether the traditional (in England anyway)
first past the post system is after all better
than the newer fangled continental-type
proportional representation/transferable vote
system.

The Lib Dems have long advocated something other
than first past the post. The Tories haven't but
usually seem to have to need far more votes overall
nationally than a simple majority to give them more MPs.

Despite its imperfections, one of the lessons to be learned from the British
election outcomes last week (The French outcome this week
may provide more food for thought however)
is that whatever the greater fairness on paper more sophisticated than
the first past the post voting sytems
may have in theory, in practice, simplest is best.
The Italian experiences over the years support that
view too.

The BBC now reports:

[quote] Two separate challenges to the results of the Scottish Parliament are being considered, it has emerged.
A lawyer is preparing to contest the outcome of the Glasgow region on behalf of those whose ballots were rejected.

And former minister Allan Wilson, who narrowly lost in Cunninghame North, is discussing the possibility of a court challenge with Labour party solicitors.

He lost to the SNP by 48 votes in a constituency where there were more than 1,000 rejected papers
[/quote]

From my neutral English perspective, I speculate
that the Scots National party were on a roll and
had the voting system been simpler that may
have been more clearly reflected in the outcomes.
As it is there is a mish mash of Legal actions
threatened; sour grapes being swallowed and
c.100,000 disenfranchised Scottish voters.

The real loser in all this is democracy.

A Matter of Life and Death

We went to a most unusual Kneehigh production of "A matter
of Life and Death" last night at the National Theatre's
Olivier Theatre in London.

Very loosely this play is based on the film by Michael
Powell/Emeric Pressburger. The fairytale plot centres on
a WWII RAF pilot Peter shot up by the Lufwaffe and who
has to jump from his flaming aircraft but without
a parachute. His co-pilot is already dead.
In the moments before jumping to
what is marked on his heavenly page as certain death, exchanges
by radio take place with a young ground-based WRAF
officer June, who becomes hugely concerned about his plight.

Peter and June during those deeply emotional radio
exchanges fall in love. Peter then jumps and then a little
like the contempory BBC 1 TV's "Life on Mars" hit, he seems to be
still be alive on an hospital bed dreaming maybe, or
actually living having found June and true love.
A heavenly courtroom is established and a trial takes
place to decide whether Peter can be permitted to defy
death in this way. He loses but for the first time ever in the
after-life, is afforded a right of Appeal.

Chief prosecutor is William Shakepeare.
Evidence for the proscution includes
those who families were split up by WWII bombings
of Dresden and Coventry. "Love" is the main evidence
for the defence. Love wins. Meanwhile back on
earth the surgeons are operating on Peter. Heaven
cannot interfer; will Peter's life in fact be saved?
In a dramatic twist a coin is tossed and a member of
the audience asked to say "heads" or "tails".
The answer is then whispered to the cast in whispers,
as presumably there are alternative endings depending
on the coin's spin and the actors need to know
which one...

The above summary though does not do justice to the
magnicent acting staging and props. The latter
include 6 old fashioned bicycles, 6 old fashioned
hospital beds wheeled, puffs of smoke, masses of fire
and some brilliant trapezee-style jumps and swings.
Some fantastically invigorating dance and music
scenes ensure that the 2hours 15 minutes action
time (without an interval) flashes by. A Jacob's ladder
accessed by a flight of hanging NHS beds clambered
over at times precariously, by June, and terrific
on stage groups of instrumentalists and singers
make for a really excellent play.

Add to the above the fact that courtesy of the Royal National
Theatre's "Travelex" sponsorship, tickets are only
£10 each, this magical musical drama is surely within most
people's budgets.

Power to the People or Little Things Matter

Last week an Irish lady in her 70s waiting in the local Sainsbury's
checkout queue, immediately ahead of me, complained about the
supermarket's introduction of gleaming new, two handled, plastic shopping
baskets, replacing the older but lighter, single handled ones.
The new baskets were heavier, awkward to hold and hurt her hands.
The old baskets looked slightly less smart but were much easier to manage.

I shared her view that although the new basket might suit Sainsbury's
more, the old one was better suited to customers.
We both then expressed that view, not entirely quietly, at the checkout.

Today a week later, the old, customer friendly, baskets are back and
the new supermarket efficient baskets are out.

People Power 21st Century suburban-style.