Tuesday, March 26, 2019

IDOLS OF FRENCH SONG


  
I am not sure why there is a distance between pop music in Britain and in France but that distance is very evident. Perhaps Britain has been much more influenced by America and youth culture, where once Britain was the exemplar and later became the follower. By contrast French pop music was resolutely European, more passionate and adult and less easily melodic. I would like to celebrate 10 fine singers in French.


1.       Jean Sablon was in the old music-hall tradition of rueful songs, siffleurs and the provision of one’s own sound effects. He enjoyed enormous popularity from 1930-70 and we played his songs on old 78s, not least his charming revival of Le Fiacre, with the clip-clopping of horses’ hooves.




2.       Maurice Chevalier was the epitome of the Parisian boulevardier with his jaunty air, boater and trade-mark exaggerated Gallic tones. His stage persona was built up over many years as after great fame in Paris as a performer and as the lover, muse and partner of Mistinguett, he became a Hollywood star in 1929. Louise was his signature tune but the English-speaking world remembered him best for his charm in the musical Gigi which I watched being filmed in the Tuileries Gardens in 1957.




3.       Charles Trenet was a singer/songwriter who wrote almost 1,000 songs of all kinds. We remember his Boum! But his name was immortalized by his classic La Mer the stereotypical French ballad, composed in 1943 but not performed until 1946. Its easy rhythms and soaring heights have delighted world audiences since.




4.       Edith Piaf was a phenomenon, tiny in stature, far from glamourous, living a turbulent private life but possessing a highly distinctive and powerful voice. I saw her in 1961 at the Olympia, Boulevard des Capucines. She hobbled onto the stage in a plain black dress and without much ceremony belted out La Vie en Rose, Milord and her defiant song Je ne regrette rien earning rapturous plaudits.




5.       Yves Montand was the Italian son of a Communist broom maker who fled to the Midi from fascist Italy. Yves had film-star good looks and he was more of an actor than a singer. His songs in praise of Paris like A Paris appealed to a wide audience but I preferred his classic numbers like Les Feuilles Mortes (Autumn Leaves). I found it hard to stomach Montand’s wildly leftist politics but he distinguished himself in later life as the conspiring villager César Soubeyran in the Marcel Pagnol linked movies Jean de Florette and Manon des Sources of 1986.




6.       Jacques Brel, was proudly Belgian, though performing widely in the Francophone world. He sang with evident emotion and the theatricality of his performance marked him out from more routine singers and enraptured his fans. Rather toothy and thick-lipped, he cared little for cosmetic assistance and emoted powerfully in songs like Amsterdam or Ne me quitte pas making him the unrivalled king of the chanson.




7.       Serge Gainsbourg courted controversy all his life. Of Jewish-Ukrainian origin, he adopted the name “Serge” to acknowledge his Slavic affinities, and “Gainsbourg” as a tribute to the painter he most admired, Thomas Gainsborough. Gainsbourg had a wide talent as a poet, painter, pianist, actor and singer and was the lover of celebrities like Juliette Greco and Brigitte Bardot. In 1968 he fell for the English actress Jane Birkin and they enjoyed a succès de scandale with the orgasm-punctuated Je t’aime…..moi non plus. He shocked and amused his public but then overstepped the mark by appearing drunk and foul-mouthed at interviews. He sank in esteem and died in 1991 but his posthumous reputation has steadily grown.




8.       Georges Guétary was born Lambros Vorlou to Greek parents in Alexandria, Egypt and this exotic background helped as he ascended in the music and cabaret circuit in Paris. British audiences took to him as lead in the operetta Bless the Bride which started a long run in London in 1947. The song La Belle Marguerite was repeatedly played on record by my dear mother and I picked up Guétary’s faux Franglais accent! He went on to sing and dance in Gene Kelly’s film An American in Paris but he did not make it in Hollywood.




9.       Charles Aznavour was a huge star in France and world-wide. His soulful expression, his sad tenor voice made this French- Armenian an unforgettable performer. I saw him sing at Carnegie Hall, New York, in 1986 and of course he sang She, The Old-fashioned ways and my favourite Yesterday, when I was young. He had a long career, dying at 94, and was ever a proud champion of Armenians.




10.   Les Compagnons de la Chanson was a well-known group after the war but by no means in the top echelon. They recorded The Three Bells (Les Trois Cloches) in 1946 – it became a hit for Piaf – and their recording became popular in Britain in about 1952.   Certainly, my mother enjoyed the song on a scratchy 78rpm and the group’s close harmony and insistent “boom – boom” were thought of as quintessentially French. Its pleasures were simple.




I am conscious that this selection is Anglo-centric and probably well removed from a selection from a native Frenchman. Nevertheless, French pop music has great admirers on this side of the Channel!


SMD
26.03.19
Text copyright © Sidney Donald 2019.

Wednesday, March 20, 2019

DARK DAYS FOR BREXITEERS




My readers will know that I am an enthusiastic Brexiteer and today finds me dismayed and frustrated by the antics at Westminster, all designed to obstruct the nation from leaving the European Union which it famously voted to do on 23 June 2016. The referendum vote at 52% to 48% was admittedly close but all the major parties accepted that result and committed themselves to delivering Brexit in their election manifestos for 8 June 2017, upon which they were elected. Theresa May’s Tory government made very heavy weather of the negotiations with the EU and eventually brought home a deal conceding too much to the EU, especially as regards the Irish border, and this deal has been twice resoundingly rejected by the House of Commons. Brexit is scheduled for 29 March 2019; in the absence of a deal, despite Commons motions of protest, a no-deal Brexit would follow on that day as the law of the land prescribes. The government has now been forced by divisions to seek a short delay to Brexit to 30 June 2019 but whether the EU will unanimously agree to that remains to be seen. There is a small possibility that a 3rd attempt to pass Theresa May’s deal with DUP support in the Commons will succeed, though pipsqueak Speaker Bercow is doing his utmost to prevent a substantially unchanged motion from proceeding.


Dominic Grieve
John Bercow
 


















Two for The Rogues’ Gallery

We can be sure the Tory malcontents, various cross-party anti-Brexit groupings, a leaderless Labour rabble and certain City agitators will do all they can in the courts, on the streets and in both houses of Parliament to derail Brexit in any form. I do not think the country admires these efforts. All this dire confusion and shenanigans derives from what Jacob Rees-Mogg has correctly described as “a disconnect” between the UK electorate, mostly Leavers, and the “political classes”, overwhelmingly Remainers. Out of 650 members of Parliament maybe 500 are at heart Remainers (with widely varying degrees of ardour) while the British public has had its democratic say and a majority (probably growing larger by the day) wants to leave the EU, which has insulted it constantly. The political classes pour out their Cassandra-like but self-serving warnings about the damage to be done by Brexit while a number of other economists and “experts” assure us that the UK will prosper post-Brexit. I do not believe in the gloom and doom scenario and believe we can match the best in the EU, without their growing political handicaps.


Boris Johnson, Dominic Raab and Michael Gove - the Contenders / Saviours?
                                                                               
The impasse is alarming – personally I prefer a no-deal Brexit on WTO terms, but can see the argument for swallowing Theresa’s awful deal in the interests of stability. To make real progress the composition of the House of Commons needs a shake-up. A general election is required but the Tories must find a new leader – we know only too well that Theresa is electoral poison. So somehow, she needs to be unseated and replaced by Boris, the erratic peoples’ charmer, or level-headed Michael Gove, or obscure but competent Dominic Raab (“Dominic Who?) or frankly anyone with a bit of oomph and a pulsating vision for Brexit. The crucial discussions on the future deal with the EU cannot be left to Theresa, who has shown she could not negotiate herself out of a paper bag, nor her second-rate “circle”. We need an inspired leader, someone to emulate heroic Finn Russell’s Scottish team of Calcutta Cup glory – Comeback Kids breathing fire and energy.  So, there are mountains to climb but the prize is worth it. That prize is our Freedom.

SMD
20.3.19
Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2019

Tuesday, February 26, 2019

TAKING STOCK




There is often a moment in older age, pottering through your usual routine, which pulls you up short and makes you think beyond the banalities of the Brexit debate or of Meghan’s latest outfit. I had just such a moment 2 weeks ago as I had the melancholy duty to attend the funeral in Aberdeen of a much-loved sister-in-law – the attendance of several hundred friends testified to a busy life embracing different circles and to her popular personality, in part softening the blow to my bereft brother.


The emotions one feels are largely positive. Love and gratitude predominate while happy memories take precedence, humorous events and moments are fondly recalled. There is necessarily a rueful acknowledgement of the inevitability of mortality but this is overcome by a sea of friendly, sometimes half-forgotten, faces, placing a mourned life in a warmly esteemed context.


The city of Aberdeen

Our return train journey from Folkestone via King’s Cross, London to Aberdeen took us most of the length of our beloved country. The stretch from London to York was taken at high speed and Grantham’s high parish church tower (at the sight of which Ruskin swooned) was followed by gigantic York Minster, hugely impressive Norman Durham Cathedral, the historic walls of Berwick-on-Tweed and on to Edinburgh affording glimpses of the Castle and the Royal Mile. The train trundles on slowly passing the majestic Forth estuary with its three huge bridges (I walked over the first road bridge before it opened to traffic in 1964). We soon see busy Dundee incomparably sited by the wide river Tay (I sailed there with a close Dundee friend in the 1960s) spanned by more long bridges. Then we were on very familiar ground as we passed Montrose (I went to church there every Sunday from my prep school in the early 1950s) then Stonehaven (nearby ruined Dunnottar Castle is an unmissable sight) and finally to my splendid home town of Aberdeen. I had not lived there since 1968 and my recent visits have been fitful but what memories this journey evoked!


The iconic Forth Bridges

Memories are certainly what I thrive upon and I can blot out the disagreeable ones and cherish the happy ones. Yet I am not so old that all I do is wallow in an unbalanced nostalgia. I still have some years left in my armoury and want to make them count. Family unity and the fulfilment of individuals within it are priorities, public life needs to be followed and causes campaigned for. Although it is getting harder, new contacts and hopefully new friends need to be made and participations embarked upon. We do not need to stand alone, we are all members of a local community.


Plenty of honoured grey-beards show us the way. Norman Tebbit (87) is a doughty controversialist of the Thatcherite Tory school while Michael Heseltine (85) is the last-surviving Tory “wet” and loquacious to boot. More admirable perhaps is Judy Dench (84) still delighting audiences on stage and screen or charming naturalist David Attenborough (92), not to mention ultra-dedicated Her Majesty the Queen (92). No excuse for slacking!


Old people are not naturally crotchety or negative. My much-missed sister-in-law never had a harsh word for anybody and we can follow her example. The old like to reach out and help the young in peace and contentment. We would do well to moderate our language and stop accusations of betrayal, conspiracy or malevolence. Most opinions are honestly held and debate should be polite, civil and thoughtful. The old strive for harmony among all mankind, as the poet said:


 ” That man to man the world o’er shall brithers be, for a’ that.”


SMD
26.2.19  
Text copyright© Sidney Donald 2019

Friday, February 8, 2019

SOME WONDERS IN WOOD



Since time immemorial Man has been fashioning wood into artistic objects. The achievements of Native American, Chinese, Hindu and Islamic woodworkers have been immense, and despite rot, damp, drought and fire, many examples have survived. In this huge field I wanted to highlight examples I have seen or with which I make a connection. Wooden artefacts bring such simple and accessible pleasure.


In Greece most Orthodox churches have an iconostasis or reredos, a decorative screen behind the altar containing cherished icons. A particularly fine one in golden gilded wood was to be seen in Agia Matronna, Karlovasi on our beloved island of Samos, following a widely adopted Byzantine tradition.


Iconostasis at Basilica of the Nativity, Bethlehem

The Gothic age in Europe brought prominence to master wood-carvers and one of the most famous was the German Tilman Riemenschneider (1460-1531).


Altar of the Holy Blood, Rothenburg ob den Tauber
        

This altar is in the Lutheran St Jakob’s church in Rothenburg, the enchanting Franconian town kept in the 17th century style, our favourite stopover in South Germany.


Viet Stoss Altar, St Mary's, Krakow, Poland

The other German master was Viet Stoss whose fine altar in Krakow is a national treasure. But the Renaissance insinuated itself and ecclesiastic patronage gave way to the secular.


The name to conjure with for late Stuart and early Hanoverian monarchs and aristocrats was Anglo-Dutch Grinling Gibbons (1648-1721). He could sculpt of course in stone and his swags adorn the walls of St Paul’s Cathedral in London and in some City of London churches. His pièce de résistance is his wood carving at Petworth House, executed for the Earl of Egremont.

Grinling Gibbons, The Carved Room at Petworth


Grinling Gibbons’ expertise was widely admired and his smaller carvings gave much pleasure.


Limewood panel of Musical Instruments by Grinling Gibbons
                             
A specifically English innovation was the art of wood engraving where an artist carves his image onto the dense end-grain of a block of wood, inks it and applies modest pressure to print his picture. The pioneer of this technique was Thomas Bewick (1753-1826) who produced his monumental History of British Birds (1797 – 1804) containing bird pictures and “tail pieces” depicting rustic scenes.


The Sparrow-Hawk by Bewick


Bewick's tail-piece Shooting from a Hide


This wood-engraving technique was used for the striking illustrations by Gustave Doré of Don Quixote in 1863 and Gibbons’ wood-carving genius was emulated by the Victorian William Gibbs Rogers, whose splendid decoration of St Mary-at-Hill, Lovat Lane in the City I much enjoyed (guided by Betjeman), staircases, swags, pews and pulpit, though most was sadly destroyed by a fire in 1988.


In the 20th century many English artists worked in wood notably Clifford Webb, Eric Gill and John and Paul Nash. We were flattered by the American modernist and abstract artist, Louise Nevelson, of Russian extraction, who presented in 1964, her An American Tribute to the British People in sumptuous gold-coloured wood;


An American Tribute to the British People by Louise Nevelson

Such a generous tribute is a rarity these days!



SMD
8.02.19
Text Copyright© Sidney Donald 2019

Sunday, January 27, 2019

A MIXED BUNCH



So appalling has been the performance of our global politicians in recent months that we yearn for some elusive earlier idyllic period when hearts were pure and intellects unclouded. Such a period never existed. Maybe they once wore smarter suits and spoke in politer tones but politicians have often behaved like thieves and vagabonds. We admire them in a partisan way, cheering our man on, like a fancied horse, but knowing little of his pedigree or previous record. Most had some merit but they had disasters as well as triumphs – it was hardly an “ever upwards” progress.


Even the most revered had skeletons in the cupboard. Winston Churchill was a lively and eloquent Home Secretary and First Lord of the Admiralty but he carried the can for the Dardanelles disaster. He was a conventionally feeble Chancellor of the Exchequer and his opposition to Indian autonomy and support for Edward V111 were dire misjudgments. Yet in war-time he rallied our armies, worked with our allies and was undoubtedly the saviour of our nation, even if he clung to power too long after the war.


What I admire about Churchill and other great politicians is that they get things done. Due honour should be paid to colourless Clem Attlee for his work on the welfare state and to inspirational Margaret Thatcher for restoring our finances, trimming the wings of the unions and modernizing the City. She could misjudge too – see the poll tax (aka the community charge) – but her Euroscepticism struck profound chords. Of the others since the war, Eden, Douglas-Home and Brown were duds and MacMillan, Wilson, Heath, Major, Blair and Cameron were plausible but ultimately second-rate. Theresa May seems destined for the duds’ column, so uncommunicative and abject has she been.


The great Maggie Thatcher
The tottering Theresa May







                                                       
  


Our American cousins revered Roosevelt - his hyper-activity throughout the Depression earned many plaudits and at long last he mobilized the resources of his country to decide the war. He should not have run for a 4th term as his performance at Yalta was disastrous and sickness had made him lose the plot. Yet FDR was a great achiever to be joined later by Lyndon Johnson (for accelerating civil rights), Richard Nixon (for ending Vietnam and recognizing China) and Ronald Reagan (for the détente with Russia).


Kennedy had too short a term while Truman, Eisenhower, both Bushes, Clinton and Obama were unable to leave a particular mark on their country. Perhaps only Ford and Carter were duds but the verdict of history on blundering, blustering and pig-ignorant Donald Trump will surely be deeply negative.


If one could construct the ideal British politician he would probably have the intellect of Gladstone, the drive of Lloyd George, the calm of Baldwin and the eloquence of Churchill. His American counterpart might combine the rationality of Jefferson, the persuasiveness of Lincoln, the vision of Wilson and the legislative nous of LBJ. Alas, such paragons of virtue only exist in the imagination. 


We can only hope that any Prime Minister will be stronger than vacillating Lord Goderich described by his monarch, George IV, as “a damned, snivelling, blubbering blockhead”, and that any President will improve upon Warren G Harding, whose failure to act against corruption condemned him, in the eyes of his biographer Samuel Adams, as "an amiable, well-meaning third-rate Mr. Babbitt, with the equipment of a small-town semi-educated journalist.” 


Charismatic Ronnie Reagan
Dud Warren Harding
             
Casting the net further afield is not very rewarding. I would rate Charles de Gaulle and Conrad Adenauer highly in Europe, exceptional figures amid the current Euro-dross and history will  smile on Jan Smuts and Jahawaral Nehru – but monsters like Hitler, Stalin and Mao lurk in the shadows.

Our politicians are only human, not supermen, the usual  mixture of asset and handicap, probably trying in good conscience to improve our lot. Expect little from them and you will  not be disappointed.


SMD
27.1.19
Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2019

Thursday, January 3, 2019

POLITICS AS PANTOMIME



Politics in the UK has been so extraordinary in 2018 that the Palace of Westminster would sit much more appropriately alongside the Hackney Empire. I read that the chief shop-steward for clowns, whose day job is at Zippo’s Circus, objects to the use of the expression “a bunch of clowns” to describe our bizarre politicians – he claimed that his “real” clowns would have sorted out Brexit many months ago! So, readers - On with the motley, savour the smell of the greasepaint, await the roar of the crowd and allow our pantomime characters and those from fantasy- land to guide our nation’s fate in 2019.


Theresa Goody-Two-Shoes
Jeremy, The  Mad Hatter


I see our Prime Minister as Goody-Two-Shoes, ever proclaiming her rectitude as she stumbles from one disaster to another:


Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong,
Was everything by starts and nothing long.


Her insensitivity to the opinions of others and her parsonical air are deeply unattractive. Her attempts to woo the “common man” with feeble dance-steps and garish footwear are merely embarrassing.


By her side, stalks the lanky, dismal figure of Baron Hammond Hard-up who takes much pleasure in spoiling Christmas and New Year for the luckless electorate by supporting the spurious predictions of Brexit’s enemies based on highly dubious assumptions and worst-case scenarios. The devotion of these two to the Brexit cause has long been questioned – a scandalous rumour is in circulation that she possesses a bidet and he has a secret enthusiasm for sauerkraut.


They are both fortunate that their principal political adversary is Jeremy, The Mad Hatter, inarticulate at the best of times, often wholly confused, upholder of policies so contradictory that they bamboozle both supporters and antagonists – he inhabits a different planet from the rest of us. Yet he is potentially only a few inches from supreme power, God help us all!


Goody-Two-Shoes does have some, at least nominal, supporters but rather more former supporters who have lost faith in her powers. Still adhering to her cause are Tweedle-Dum Gove and Tweedle-Dee Hunt, competent, if faceless, fellows, arguing that Goody-Two-Shoes is the best leader we have got. Tweedle-Dum famously and justifiably stated:


I think that the people of this country have had enough of experts from organisations with acronyms saying that they know what is best and getting it consistently wrong.


Then Tweedle-Dee opined:


Singapore was a prime example of a well-managed economy (the 8th largest in the world) and
While the circumstances of Britain’s departure from the EU are different, there could be few better instructions for us as we make our post-Brexit future.”


Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee
Jack (our Liam Fox) and the Giant Barnier

 
Walter the Softie/Jacob Rees-Mogg
Ugly Sisters Amber Rudd and Anna Soubry

There are many other “noises off”. Liam Fox is a doughty Brexiteer and I see him heroically as Jack of Beanstalk fame, but he may not have the strength to resist the giant and ogres above him. The revered comic, the Beano, has complained that Jacob Rees-Mogg, leader of the Brexit ultras, has stolen the character of their Walter the Softie and certainly the resemblance is striking. Snarling Amber Rudd and consistently disloyal Anna Soubry make a fine pair of Ugly Sisters in the Europhile camp.


When the clash comes, the struggle will be titanic. We hear already the chant of Giant Michel Barnier:


Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman,
Be he alive or be he dead,
I’ll grind his bones to make my bread!


This uncompromising attitude is shared by his fierce attendant, the 3-headed Cerberus, whose purpose in life is to stop those who wanted to leave the EU Hades and whose heads bear a strong likeness to Messrs. Tusk, Juncker and Selmayr.

The EU 3-headed Cerberus

Boris the Gruffalo


Goody-Two-Shoes does not deign to go into battle and her supporters’ current preferred champion is Boris the Gruffalo, a noisy, fierce-looking beast but one whose stamina is doubtful and who somehow does not convince as a cunning leader of men.


I believe we will find a younger man, a Dominic Raab or a Gavin Williamson, a Prince Charming without too much past baggage, to cut us free from our chains and lead us to the Promised Land, flowing with milk and honey.


Oh No you won’t! Oh Yes we will!!!



SMD
3.01.19
Text Copyright ® Sidney Donald 2019