Thursday, August 31, 2017

ODDS AND ENDS



As we gird up our loins to end our hols, to re-engage, for some, with our careers and chosen professions, to prepare our children for school and to stagger through the complexities of Brexit and the idiosyncrasies of Donald Trump and Kim Jong-Un, we remember fleeting moments of August pleasure and oddity.


We have been lazing in our sun-kissed summer-house on the Aegean island of Samos. On 27 August the Orthodox world celebrates half-legendary St (Agia) Fanourios, a favourite saint credited with finding lost articles, or even finding a job for someone out-of-work. As Greeks are forever losing their keys, their mobiles not to mention their husbands or their minds, the help of this useful saint is frequently invoked by the faithful.

St Fanourios

 We duly took a taxi up to the chapel of St Fanourios tucked away in the hills overlooking Karlovasi, thronged with the devout. My lovely wife lit a candle and kissed the icon while a young woman kindly gave us Fanourios cake, a tasty speciality that day. The chapel service was being taken by our neighbour, priest Papa Christou, with whom we often have a convivial drink, a fashionable fellow in his youth. The chatty Samiot taxi-driver was called Polycrates, after the dynamic tyrant of Samos who persecuted Pythagoras here in the 6th century BC. Such are the ancient connections!


Talking about losing one’s mind made me think of the substantial number of mentally deranged people wandering about in Greece, tended by their families but not getting any professional care. A middle-aged neighbour lady in Athens, living with her sister, lurks around accusing any male she encounters of communing with the Devil and plotting her doom. She is probably harmless but rather alarming. Another sad 82-year-old crone here in Samos is stricken with Alzheimer’s and is cared for by her niece. About twice a day she goes out on a flower collecting expedition not by careful pruning but by ripping up roots. The prized blooms of a local lawyer, the local taverna and our local priest have fallen to her depredations to their justified indignation. She made a bee-line for our glorious show of forget-me-nots 2 days ago but we blocked her way – to be rewarded with a shrill stream of insult and blue language. She did not know what she was doing or saying but such encounters may become more common as the health systems of the world struggle to cope with an ageing population beset by chronic disability and helplessness.

Our prized Forget-me-nots

The return to school may be more than usually piquant this term as 4 highly distinguished schools, Eton, Winchester, Radley and Charterhouse so far, seem to be caught up in a series of exam “leaks” involving senior staff which presumably will lead to annulment and disqualifications. So crucial are good exam grades for acceptance to the “best” universities that probably quite a lot hinges on the outcome of current investigations. This obsession with exam grades must distract from a more relaxed approach to the academic subject studied, but that is a longer story. I might have expected malpractice at Bash Street School but not at the flower of The Headmasters’ Conference.


I was rather cheered to read that the EU negotiators were “flabbergasted” when the UK delegation filleted and rejected the EU stance on the Brexit divorce bill. Barnier, Juncker and Verhofstadt will be well advised to study their statutes – the legal basis for any divorce bill is flimsy. For months the EU has been sneering at the UK and reminding us of the need to keep by the rules. Now the tables have been neatly turned and B, J and V have been in the old phrase “hoist with their own petard”. The sooner we see the backs of B, J and V the better!



SMD
31.08.17

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2017

Saturday, August 19, 2017

WITTY AND WINNING LYRICS



Many a popular song is most famous for its tune rather than its words, which often as not, do little more than rhyme moon with June or croon. Yet there are songs whose lyrics reward listening to – and I attach my selection of 12 I enjoy, together with someone’s interpretation. I found that 5 of my 12 were written by Cole Porter (1891-1964), who was worldly and “sophisticated”; he often got it right when, unusually in a songwriter, he fitted his own music to his own lyrics. He was truly a Prince of Lyricists.

Cole Porter
    
(1)   My Mammy (1924) by Joe Young and Sam Lewis


My first song breaks all my own rules. The mother-fixated lyrics are thickly schmaltzy, and only partly memorable – I’d walk a million miles for one of your smiles – incomparable Al Jolson performs it in black-face, wholly non-PC and upsetting to most blacks and he offends the observant Jewish community by impersonating a synagogue cantor who prefers popular music. Yet 90 years ago, Jolson socked it to ‘em with enormous panache in the attached finale to the first talkie The Jazz Singer in 1927. What a star!




(2)   You’re getting to be a Habit with Me. (1932) by Harry Warren and Al Dubin
This was a classic for many years but often ran into censorship problems as it was thought to refer to and glamorise drug-taking. Oh, I can’t stay away, I must have you every day, As regularly as coffee or tea, You’ve got me in your clutches and I can’t get free – in any event it was beautifully sung by Frank Sinatra in 1956.




(3)   Miss Otis Regrets (1934) by Cole Porter


Written for a long-forgotten early Cole Porter musical, this song’s humour is decidedly black. Miss Otis loves but is betrayed by her lover, whom she shoots dead, only herself to be lynched by a mob which storms her jail. Her dying words – Miss Otis regrets she’s unable to lunch today! Flamboyant Douglas Byng, who appeared as the butler in the original London show, made this his cabaret signature tune for many years.




(4)   It Ain’t Necessarily So (1935) by George and Ira Gershwin


Sung by the demonic tempter Sportin’ Life in Gershwin’s opera-musical Porgy and Bess, this was certainly a subversive number in its time, casting aspersions on the veracity of the stories of David and Goliath, Jonah and the Whale and the discovery of baby Moses in the rushes by Pharaoh’s daughter. The things that you’re liable to read in the Bible, it ain’t necessarily so – would not play well even now with Trump’s cohorts in Hicksville! Cab Calloway gives his version.




(5)   Always True to you Darling in my fashion (1948) by Cole Porter
I have long enjoyed this cynical ditty from Cole Porter’s smash hit show “Kiss me Kate” later made a film in 1956. Ann Miller, the dynamic dark-haired dancer, for whom I carried a torch, combined charmingly with Tommy Rall on the screen, confessing her possibly justifiable indiscretions!




(6)   Brush up your Shakespeare (1948) by Cole Porter


Another from the “Kiss me Kate” movie, with the two gangsters trying to collect a bookie’s debt from Howard Keel giving him some friendly advice on the merits of the Bard. Typical verbal felicity from Cole Porter, not all of whose allusions will perhaps have been understood by his audience.




(7)   Little Things Mean a Lot (1953) by Edith Lindeman and Carl Stutz


This true-to-life song topped the charts and appealed to one’s mother’s or grandmother’s generation in the pre-Wimmins’ Lib 1950s. Blow me a kiss from across the room, Say I look nice when I’m not, A line a day when you’re far away, Little things mean a lot. This song, with its generous sentiments, should be on the school curriculum!




(8)   I’ve Grown accustomed to her Face (1956) by Alan J Lerner and Frederick Loewe


“My Fair Lady”, based on Shaw’s “Pygmalion”, was a huge success on Broadway and London: The 1964 film was lavishly dressed and elicited wonderful performances from Audrey Hepburn as Eliza Doolittle and Rex Harrison as Professor Henry Higgins. This tender love song, which ends the show, marks the crack in the selfish lifestyle of Higgins and the taming of rebellious Eliza.




(9)   What a swell Party (1956) by Cole Porter


This was an older Porter number, revived for his major swansong, the sparkling original score and screenplay for High Society. Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra were never better than in this boozy duet, capping the other’s comments and alluding to a comical cafĂ© society. This French champagne, So good for the brain, Your mine, bon ami, A liberty, Fraternity!




(10) Zip (1957) by Cole Porter


Another older number, revived for the musical Pal Joey, where torch singer/stripper Rita Hayworth gave good value playing opposite Frank Sinatra. Rita manages to mention Walter Lippman, the Giants, Schopenhauer, Plato, Cato, Freud, Dorothy Dix not to mention Charley’s Aunt and Whistler’s Mother as she wittily stars as the Broad with the broad, broad mind.




(11) Yes, I Remember it Well (1958) by Alan J Lerner and Frederick Loewe


Impossible to overlook this delightful duet between the ageing boulevardier Maurice Chevalier and his erstwhile lover Hermione Gingold, as they reminisce by the beach at Deauville in the charming “Gigi” adapted from the tale by Colette. It is a snapshot of affectionate old age.




(12)         Somewhere (1957) by Stephen Sondheim and Leonard Bernstein


“West Side Story” broke new ground in the musical genre, more democratic and more socially serious. The Romeo and Juliet plot of the lovers from warring gangs in New York and this great love song must have resonance in a Europe beset by migrants, most of whom just want peace and quiet and open air, Somewhere.





SMD
19.08.17

Text copyright © Sidney Donald 2017

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

THIS AND THAT



As my butterfly mind flutters between Britain and Greece, I find minor pleasures in strange places creating a bonne bouche, comprising a few tasty mezes mixed with a handful of toothsome hors d’oeuvres. Please share them with me.


Yesterday was the Feast of the Assumption (the Orthodox call it the Dormition “falling asleep”, of the Virgin) when the more devout Catholics and Orthodox celebrate the assumption of Mary, Mother of God, into paradise. The exact details are hard to pin down; many believe Mary died a natural death and then miraculously resurrected to heaven; others cut through such questions and maintain that Mary was gathered up by the heavenly host and physically deposited beside her Son. Here in Samos, after days of monotonous chanting of the liturgy amplified by microphones, a lavish silver icon of the Virgin was processed through the streets, the local brass band, girls and boys in exemplary white uniforms, played the Dead March and later a more cheerful repertoire. At various points the bells clanged rather tunelessly (England’s dulcet bell-tones are unknown) and the procession was headed by the bishop, archimandrites, priests and their acolytes, soldiers and a good turn-out of the faithful. Inevitably many of them were old and female – the younger generation is slowly moving away from this ghostly world.

The Assumption by Rubens, Antwerp Cathedral 1626

Families gather for barbecue feasts and some convivial drinking. The great day is also a Name-Day for everyone called Mary or any variant of it like Mario, Marigo, or Marianna so there are endless phone calls of good wishes and congratulation to complete. My dear wife Betty was christened Panayota, which derives from the Greek title for the BVM, the “Panayia”, so it is her name-day too. In the Orthodox world the expression “St Mary” is not used – Mary’s place in their hierarchy is rather higher than mere sainthood! In honour of my excellent wife I took her to our favourite seaside restaurant and we lazed luxuriantly by the crashing waves in the glorious heat.
--------------------------
Talking of saints naturally moves me on to Jacob Rees-Mogg, the amusing Tory traditionalist (or reactionary, if you prefer) who certainly heads an admiring cult. A “silly season” story has gone the rounds that Jacob has designs on the leadership of the Tory party, strenuously denied by Jacob himself. He has the fatal handicaps of being clever, rich, conscientious, polite and an Old Etonian. His debating skills are well-honed but his political views are firmly embedded in the late 19th or early 20th century, he is an old-school Catholic and his Fogeyish manner would not go down too well in proletarian England. But he is a fine fellow and his talents should be mobilised perhaps as the next Commons Speaker or Chairman of the BBC.

Talented Jacob Rees-Mogg



I was critical of the clanging noise of Greek church bells but at least they play. I find it astounding that the chimes of Big Ben will be silent for all of 4 years while the clock and its tower are repaired. This is much too long and I ascribe it to “Elf & Safety” and inadequate oversight of contractors. Apparently only one face of the clock itself will be functioning, so at least half Londoners will not even be able to see the time. Big Ben is a symbol of London and symbols matter.

Towering Big Ben
   

As if Greece did not have enough problems, this year there have been more than the usual crop of wildfires, devastating forested land. The Greeks accuse the Turks and conservative New Democracy blames the radical SYRIZA government. The truth is more banal. In Zakinthos fires started in 13 quite separate locations, which was no co-incidence. There are sick pyromaniacs in every country – a 63-year-old was arrested this morning in Parnes, near Athens carrying fire-raising gear, and here in Samos a member of the public found a timed incendiary device near a beach. What damage these sickos can cause!

Deadly Wildfires in Zakinthos


Greek summer TV is pretty dire, but yesterday we were greatly cheered to catch a re-run of the perennial classic Top Hat (1935) with Fred and Ginger in wonderful form. “Isn’t this a lovely day to be caught in the rain?” and “Dancing Cheek to Cheek” are immortal numbers – why does nobody dance these days? The Golden Oldies are the best – and so say all of us!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WOYzFKizikU             Cheek to Cheek

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dl6FLfHTC68              Caught in the Rain



SMD
16.08.17

Text Copyright ©Sidney Donald 2017

Friday, August 11, 2017

AWAY FROM IT ALL



August is upon us and certainly in the Northern Hemisphere it is holiday time – time to turn our backs on the banalities of our routine existence, to break loose into self-indulgence and idle fancies, and the pursuit of those matters which really engross our peculiar natures. Some hunt fungi like demented truffle-hounds, some embark upon visiting every railway station in England while others take brass-rubbings from medieval tombs in obscure parish churches in deepest Herefordshire. One of my good friends explores the beautiful, if windswept, Hebridean island of Tiree, with her incomparable beaches, another is deep in rural West Wales, amid the bays and coves, untroubled by tourist hordes and a third hill-walks in the lovely Bernese Oberland, a happy wanderer, as the old song went. May all have a splendid 2017 summer and return home with batteries recharged, even more bright-eyed and bushy-tailed!

Balevullin Beach, Tiree, Scotland

Jungfraujoch, by Bern, Switzerland


                           This August, as I have done for 19 years, I am living in a gloriously leisurely fashion in our summer house on Samos, Greece in the Eastern Aegean. Thank goodness the aircon is working well, as the heat is intense, seldom falling to 30C (86F) and sometimes edging to 40 C (104F). The locals say it is one of the warmest spells in recent memory after a nasty, wet and cold winter. The winter weather rather blighted our main bedroom with damp, making a refurb necessary, but it will soon be completed. After the uncertainties of the Folkestone climate, we revel in the dependable heat of summer in our balmy Karlovasi. I confess there are Samiot mountain paths untrodden and pebbly coves unswum as I take things easy, preferring the local hotel swimming pools, short walks and relaxing seaside tavernas.

The Port at Karlovasi, Samos

The Greeks are a tad more optimistic this year hoping a corner has been turned in their economic recovery but the country is far from booming. August tourists are streaming into Samos, many budget-conscious proles from Eastern Europe but also boat loads of free-spending Turks on short trips from Izmir. Menus in Turkish have sprung up offering toothsome delicacies to these welcome visitors. Last year’s waves of migrants are absent, that situation precariously dependent on the fluctuating goodwill of unpredictable Recip Erdogan.


Our beloved leaders are also taking a well-earned rest. Theresa May skips around in a pink dress and hikes in the Lake Garda area and Switzerland, without a care in the world. Mind you, last time she was on holiday, she came home with the bright idea of a snap election and that did not work out too well…… As for Angela Merkel, she is walking in the Italian Alps with her hubby Joachim Sauer: they do not seem to be enjoying it much to judge from a photo of them on a chair-lift. Cheer up, Angela! Putin bares his chest in macho fashion as he sun-bathes in Siberia while The Donald is spending 17 days in his golf club in Bedminster, NJ, working hard, he insists, but he will surely put in a round a day to bolster his insatiable ego. I hate to think what Kim Jong Un is up to: he is a little podgy for water-sports but he will certainly float, sustained from below by four sycophantic army generals. In all events, I do not grudge them their holidays - while they are away not much is likely to happen……..though WW1 broke out in the August break of 1914!

Theresa and Philip May relax by Lake Garda




Joachim Sauer and wife Angela "Sourpuss" Merkel on their hols.

Whatever the world does, this August look after No 1 and do everything and nothing as the spirit moves you. Relax!

SMD
11.08.17
Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2017