Physical Theatre

I couldn't count the amount of times I've heard people say that theatre in Dublin is bad as there's no physical theatre. And let's not talk about the odd time I read the papers (refusing to get the Irish Times means that at least I'm spared the mantra from them). I have a problem with this. I don't have a problem with 'physical', or dance theatre, or theatre of movement yada yada yada, I have a problem with the assumed primacy of it. Just as I have a problem with 'pure' cinema. Hitchcock may be pure cinema, as Truffaut said the second last of the masters, only Welles arriving in the era of sound when text took over and people lost their visual purity, but just watch him in a real theatre with real normal people rather than a film studies class and see the difference. I can appreciate Hitchcock when I read about him or watch how he puts a scene together, but when you are in a crowd his films are frankly embarrassing. His misogyny is crass beyond belief and, on the two occasions I have gone to see rep presentations, both in crowded cinemas, the audience giggled and finally laughed out loud at the picture. Another example, from a lesser director, I watched a TV version of Dr. Zhivago a couple of years ago, and I thought of the different choices made in presentation from David Lean's. David Lean's version had a scene where Lara was in a horse drawn carriage with the older man, he tried to kiss her, cut to the Hussars drawing swords, the carriage starts bouncing, the hussars charge the protest march, carriage bouncing, hussars crack heads, blood stains the snow. Okay, so I know she was raped and was a virgin, in the TV version it was made explicit that this was the case - rather than some kind of visual allusion which merely trivialises.

Lost - no spoiler

Watched the end of Lost last night. I know it finished ages ago in the US but it just finished in Ireland last night. If you are considering following it to the bitter end in Britain my advice would be don't. I couldn't even offer a spoiler for the end: nothing happened. Dud. Duff. Dull thud. It crashed into the shark. Sharkmeat everywhere.

There was some quite spectacularly bad CGI on display which was about the only charm in the last few episodes. Apparently Jack and Kate have a contracted amount of screentime together per episode (bit wasted as she wouldn't go for a milquetoast like him and she's utterly unconvincing as a felon/killer/bitch from hell - or indeed as a source of male interest), I think that Sawyer has a contracted amount of shirt-off screen time added in as the show went on. They obviously audience tested that one first however given my sister in law's uncharacteristic outburst about how much she'd like to ride him. Lots apparently.

Thanks IRA, now go away

Well I was going to use this spot to slag Sinn Féin, because, well, because it's fun and because they're a bit more thin skinned than other parties and you feel that somewhere out there, someone will notice. Whereas Fí­anna Fáil delight in the deserved contempt poured upon them by pretty much anyone engaged in any critical thinking as it demonstrates to their satisfaction that they have us all by the balls.

But that would be churlish on a day when we should be thanking Sinn Féin for being the first party to the Irish conflict to demilitarise. Don't get me wrong, the British army have partially demilitarised the situation and the RUC has been disbanded (or renamed...). Sinn Féin / the IRA have not policed the community for the last while and when the loyalist community attacked, urged on by the DUP and the Orange Order, the PSNI did what the RUC would not and took the hits: the blast bombs, the petrol bombs, the gunfire, the bricks. And nobody was burnt out of their houses. This is 40 years of progress from times when the 'police' in NI would stand idly by while an anti-catholic pogrom was going on.

I noticed the resurgence of an issue that died out several years ago: how do we know if this is all the IRA's cache of arms? Let me remind anyone who has forgotten how that question was answered before: as part of the Lockerbie deal the Libyan government gave the inventory of arms sent over to the British government (they were always disappointed by the use it was put to - they gave enough for a war, not harassmentment). That, added to US intelligence, meshed with UK, Irish and, significantly if we take the decommisioning bodies word, the IRA's own quartermaster's report, to such an extent that it is a dead issue. It was dead five years ago and the DUP's attempts to reanimate the corpse are comical. Pick your favourite zombie flick here.

Let me say that if and when the loyalist terrorists want to destroy their weapons it won't be a major issue either - as long as British Army intelligence hand over the details of just what they got them.

Now what are the DUP going to do? Paisley declared deChastelain's mission a 'complete failure'. Let's face it, Paisley's policies have been a complete failure. His supporters take to the streets claiming they are disenfranchised. Well disenfranchised has a meaning: you have no vote. They can vote for Westminster (obviously going to be unsatisfactory - too few of them to really influence the state) and for the NI Assembley. They chose to scupper the assembly and use their influence to deny the people of Northern Ireland a democratic voice. Well done Ian. As a vox pop in Ballymenagh, a town untouched by Ireland's recent economic prosperity, in the grip of gangsters and loyalist terrorists, a heroin hellhole, put it 'he's not seen us far wrong'. How wrong could you be missus? How wrong?

Back to slagging Sinn Féin soon.

It takes two teams to make a great match and we had one yesterday. I was an honourary Tyrone man for the day, what with the house overrun with Tyrone women to watch the all Ireland final, and it was a classic. Kerry started off firing all over the pitch and Tyrone looked outclassed in the first fifteen minutes. They matched Kerry for scores though and never let them pull away or who knows what might have happened? I was a bit worried that war might break out after somebody appeared to have tried to gouge the Gooch's eye out and as play wasn't stopped a forearm smash took down Brian Dooher - it was the first of three he took during the match. All eyes were on Ryan McMenamin, he has form, but it appears to have been a clash with the keeper and the ref took no action. In general the match wasn't dirty with Kerry leading the fouling until the last few minutes when Tyrone were desperately holding their lead. Initially it looked like Tyrone's weakness in fielding would play into Kerry's hands but as the match wore on Tyrone took more and more of the possession turning over the ball and not letting Kerry pass. Undoubtedly the press will say Dara Ó Sé had a great game, they always do, in truth he gave the ball away and ran round like a headless chicken for much of the game. No doubt the same commentators will talk about the genius of the Gooch, and he is one of the most outstanding forward of our time, but no point he took was better that Peter the Great's from almost the touchline on the left at a crucial stage of the game or another on the right that Stephen O'Neill squeezed in. It's hard to say what lost it for Kerry, tactics, work, and quality were part of it. Theoretically Tyrone should have weakened: their high energy pressing game should have worn them down and Kerry's vaunted long range passing and vision should have opened space. Kerry failed to do that and it way they that weakened as the game went on. Tyrone's epic journey to the final had them game hardened like no other team has ever been. The championship was refreshing this year what with the standard of soccer in Europe declining so precipitously and Irish international matches (make that European internationals) being snoozetastic.

Maybe the Dubs will come through next year....

St. Etienne - tales from Turnpike House

I've been listening to this since Friday. Walking to work on a clear, chill September morning, before the daily walks are both done in darkness and the sadness of winter is upon you, I heard 'sun in my morning' for the first time. I knew the album was going to make me happy. It sets up a groove on triangle with acoustic guitar, organ, and brushed hats joining in. A little gem, as Bobby Robson said of Paul Gascoigne. Without the fat and blubbery tears though keeping all the sentimentality. The next track, the longer more ambitious 'milk bottle symphony' starts telling the lives of the residents of the block of flats, the characters we'll continue to meet over the course of the album. It begins with gentle synth pulses and drum machine - while still managing to feel like a slice of classic sixties pop unsullied by the euphoric plagiarism of the British Invasion - but morphing over its four gorgeous minutes to take in a tubular bell and cello break. I'll be putting this on a CD for my neice as the last character is a girl going to school and she has her name. The next track 'lightning strikes twice' I mention not for its own qualities but to ask the question 'what separates St. Etienne from chart pop?' It's not the instrumentation or even the lead vocals. Chart pop can handle the breathy female lead of St. even if it would tend to go for the obvious high note which they don't. This song has, like many on the album, a bedrock of vocal harmonies that could serve as all the harmonic backdrop the song needs. I imagine that there were instruments on the last song 'goodnight' at one stage and they were removed to leave the big acapella backing that remains. I think what separates their sound is differentiation. From Phil Spector's wall of sound, through ABBA's doubling (and quadrupling) all instruments and vocals to fatten the sound and remove all elements of individual performance, to the contemporary 'hot mix' used for radio play which compresses all the timbres and removes the dynamic elements of a song into a warm comforting soup, there is a tendency in chart pop to not allow elements of a song to stand out. The backing vocals on this album sound like a group of people. They don't sound like the Sugababes - all of whom have the same syrupy soul voice (don't get me wrong, I have a soft spot for the Sugababes) and when harmonies like theirs are swamped in reverb its very difficult to imagine that at some point a human chest pushed out air damp with waste water from the body to make the sound. St. Etienne leave music sounding of itself quite often. The beautiful 'side streets' is a reclaim the streets for the stormtroopers of gentrification. 'Last order for Gary Stead' a glitter band stomper with Petula Clark or Karen Carpenter effortlessly melancholic on top. 'Relocate' sounds like a duet between Anthony Newley and a property greed programme TV presenter in a sixties kitchen sink drama musical. 'Teenage Winter' reminds me of a song on a Siesta compilation I have that was made to celebrate the tastes of a soft pop enthusiast who sadly died a few years ago called 'Emma Peel crossword Puzzle' which was the titles of Avengers episodes read out to music except it also has a chorus.

Now I have to listen to all their records over the last ten years that I missed out on.

Garrhh! That be spelt wrong!

Avast! I'll whip me with the cat'o'nine tails for a scurvy dog. It's International Talk Pirate Day and I wrote like a landlubber. The recipe is -

1 Cup o' weavils
2 squeezes of tar from a wet ponytail
1 pound of sawdust
The whole grog ration for the next month

Mix the first three together with some stale water. Boil up on the deck. Eat. Vomit. Mutiny. Steal the whole of the grog ration. Drink.

Land ho!

Whore for a month solid 'till the press gang, curse 'em, take you from your buxom molly.

Repeat after a month at sea. Smartly does it.

Signed,
Foursaltydogsatsea

Spicy green salsa and the sorrows of empire

Well, I haven't been writing here due to my pledge to myself about not writing successive negative entries. It was just so hard what with every time I thought of writing here thinking about one of two things - the fallacy of 'small government' and the moral bankruptcy it implies and the headless chicken the state will become. If you think the only thing a government - which will be huge - has a right to spend money on is killing people, we have nothing to talk about. That and something to do with a sweet lie about a revolution that never happened that has festered in the heart of America. Which heart of corruption is the seed and soul of empire.

Okay, couldn't quite resist it.

Had a lovely weekend making food for people. On Friday and Saturday the starters were cheeses and smoked salmon on McCambridge's brown bread with butter and capers served with manzanilla. Friday's main course was baked aubergines (with a tomato and trompette du mort sauce, cooked for hours) served with warm bread and olive oil from Baena (it smells of rich fruit with just a whiff of farm - well worth the hefting five litres of the stuff) and for dessert we had, on both days, tiramisu. Saturday's main course was seared tuna served with a spicy green salsa and rosemary roast potatoes with asparagus (tossed in a pan with a knob of melting butter just after being refreshed and before serving). Nothing at all complicated, but there's nothing better than lots of really good ingredients. I thought I'd give the recipes for the salsa and tiramisu.

Spicy green salsa (stolen from Avoca café, but it was a long time ago)

5 plum tomatoes
1 large spoon of capers (to taste)
1 nt too ripe avacado
1 lemon
1 large green onion (obviously scallions are nice too)
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon onion seeds (we used one of brown mustard too)
1 glug of vinegar (we used sherry vinegar)
4 jalapeno chillies

Soak the seeds in juice of half a lemon before you start anything else. They will soften in the acid, as will everything else so this is best done a couple of hours before the guests arrive, depending on the avacado. I add the sherry vinegar about then. Cut an x on the skins of the tomatoes at the end opposite from the stalk and put them into boiling water for a few minutes untill the skin starts peeling off. I get worried and don't leave them in long enough sometimes. Peel them, remove the seeds and chop roughly. It is absolutely essential to do this. Seeds are bitter and acidic, when they are liquidised in a sauce you can heat the mixture at 80 degrees and let the acid bubble away for hours, in a salsa it's raw. And the skin is minging anyway (remember that Spanish fake olive oil scandal and people getting crippled and dieing in the 80s? Well it wasn't olive oil - it was fertiliser residue on salads. Lose the skin) and it is easy to take off. Dice the avacado, the less ripe it is the smaller the dice, and put it into the mixture. The avacado will soften in the acid so don't get one suitable for guacamole or the whole thing will be mush. Dice the red onion finely, the jalapeno peppers to your preferred size and add with the capers. Season to taste. Nice and tart on seared tuna.