Album of the Day: Bill Frisell - Unspeakable

Nifty guitar, laid back, jazzy, funky, added sounds.

"'Unspeakable' is the rare jazz project that confronts dance grooves and electronica without surrendering to them. Frisell reacts to the beats and samples but never imitates them; he always seems to be proposing alternative methods for divvying up the same pulse or evoking the same mood. Thus we get the best of both worlds -- the power of electronica and the personality of an idiosyncratic musician." Geoffrey Himes, The Washington Post

See Bill Frisell website for more info. Probably not in stock at your local supermarket but you can get it on t'internet.

Anarchy is the Best Policy

From the latest issue of the London Review of Books

Quarterly GDP data don’t, on the whole, tend to make the person studying them laugh out loud. The most recent set, however, are an exception, despite the fact that the general picture is of unrelieved and spreading economic gloom. Instead of the surge of rebounding growth which historically accompanies successful exit from a recession, we have the UK’s disappointing 0.2 per cent growth, the US’s anaemic 0.3 per cent and the glum eurozone average figure of 0.2 per cent. That number includes the surprising and alarming German 0.1 per cent, the desperately poor French 0 per cent and then, wait for it, the agreeably frisky Belgian 0.7 per cent. Why is that, if you’ve been following the story, laugh-aloud funny? Because Belgium doesn’t have a government. Thanks to political stalemate in Brussels, it hasn’t had one for 15 months. No government means none of the stuff all the other governments are doing: no cuts and no ‘austerity’ packages. In the absence of anyone with a mandate to slash and burn, Belgian public sector spending is puttering along much as it always was; hence the continuing growth of their economy. It turns out that from the economic point of view, in the current crisis, no government is better than any government – any existing government.

Belgium does, of course, have a lot of social and economic legislation already in place (Keynesian rather than neo-liberalist)  but I always suspected that if only the blighters would leave us alone to get on with it and desist from forever changing, reforming and restructuring then things might just tick along nicely!

Orford Ness: Atom Bomb Test Site & Nature Reserve

It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good.

There's a shingle spit to the east of Woodbridge, Suffolk. Pretty much uninhabitable but Lord Braybrooke built a lighthouse there in 1792 and a martello tower was erected as a defence against potential invasion by Napoleon and his French hordes. In 1913, however, the Ministry of Defence realised its potential as a weapons testing site and began dropping bombs, firing bullets, throwing hand grenades and generally having a smashing time. They built an airfield, radar stations, and various military quarters there. At one point German prisoners of war were held there (although not for target practice, I hope).

With the invention of the atom bomb it became necessary to develop effective ways of ensuring accurate delivery of said weaponry to its target. This was in the days before reliable missiles and computer modelling, so the atom bomb was actually dropped and they had to be sure that the impact would not damage the detonation system, and that the bomb would pierce it's target. So the Atomic Weapons Research Establishment did loads of tests at Orford Ness, dropping bombs from planes and monitoring how they fell, with or without parachute retardation, so that bomber crews could be properly trained in aiming the bombs. Don't worry though; the bombs were unarmed so there's no nuclear residue. I wonder how relevant this was, given that an atom bomb is designed to cause massive destruction over a wide area so it wouldn't matter if you missed Stalin's bunker by a hundred yards or so. But there you go. It kept them off the streets.There's a small exhibition in which you can see an actual atom bomb, the WE-177.

All this became unnecessary with the development of guided missiles so eventually the MOD abandoned the site and handed it over to The National Trust. Any unexploded ordnance has been removed from the site (fingers crossed) and The National Trust have just left it alone to allow nature to come back and re-take possession. Paths, buildings and lumps of concrete remain but otherwise, apart from the (new) lighthouse there's nothing there except birds, flowers and a few sheep. Of course, being flat, cold, barren and windy it's not very hospitable so the birds keep a low profile and the plants are extremely small and hardy.

Sky Broadband

Older readers may recall how slow t'internet used to be when it was first invented. These days we've got used to things happening in the blink of an eye but out here in the wilds of Suffolk, life remains slower than an arthritic tortoise. On my home planet we have fibre-optic cables so there's not much loss of signal - entropy laws decree there must be some, and there are metal connectors - but hereabouts the signal travels along a telephone line several hundred miles long until it arrives at the house completely out of puff, if it gets here at all. To make matters worse, the wireless hub is somewhat under-powered. This whizzo technology is provided by Rupert Murdoch's estimable organisation 'Sky'. Suffice it to say that it does not live up to it's billing. Speeds of up to 20Mb, my arse. More like 11 Kb. And the signal repeatedly justs drops out altogether, requiring a chap to reconnect all over again. And again. And again.

We suffered some inconvenience in the 29th Dimension when fibre-optic cables were installed fifteen years ago, what with the roads and pavements being dug up, but we rarely have connection problems and these are usually the result of external factors such as some cretin at the controls of a JCB digger not looking what he's doing. Moreover, Mr Branson's people at Virginmedia actually upgrade the service frequently without even being asked. You're lagging behind, Murdoch.

Cheese

This is completely stupid. You answer a few questions and this gizmo tells you what sort of cheese you are. I have no idea how it was determined that 'putting friends and family first' is related to a particular variety of cheese, but there you go. And some people say that the internet is a waste of time!


Cheese Test: What type of cheese are you?

Days Like These

Last Wednesday I spent the first five waking hours thinking it was Saturday. This caused untold confusion when reading the Radio Times.Today, however, I know that it will be Saturday tomorrow so it must be Friday. That's alright, then.

Mash Up: Paperback Believer

Edinburgh Jokes

The self-styled 'Home of Witty Banter' TV channel Dave has sponsored an award for the Funniest Joke at this year's Edinburgh Festival, which has been won by Nick Helm:

"I needed a password eight characters long so I picked Snow White and the Seven Dwarves."

Not bad, not bad. Some of the others are quite good too:
Matt Kirschen: "I was playing chess with my friend and he said, "Let's make this interesting". So we stopped playing chess."
Alan Sharp: "I was in a band which we called The Prevention, because we hoped people would say we were better than The Cure."

I'm Special

Wesley Scroggins: So It Goes

You're probably thinking I've made up this bloke's name but no, he's an actual person. So, what's up with Mr Scroggins? Well, he's been giving Christians a bad name.

Actually, that's Dr Scroggins to you; he has a Phd from New Mexico State University and he's an Associate Professor in Management in the College of Business Administration at Missouri State University. He is a resident of a small town called Republic in Greene County, Missouri. As such, he raised a complaint last year with the School Board  of the Republic High School about three books which he considers contain material - language, storylines, characterisations - which is 'contrary to what The Bible teaches'. The School Board has duly considered the matter and have 'banned' two of the books: Twenty Boy Summer by Sarah Ockler and Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut. The ban means that these books won't be part of the curriculum at the school, nor will they be stocked in the school library. Students can of course still get the books elsewhere either from a public library or from Amazon, but if they have them in school or cite them as 'independent reading' then students must have a letter from their parents giving permission.

I haven't read Twenty Boy Summer, but by all accounts, it seems to be quite relevant for teenage Americans as it deals with peer pressure, relationships, loyalty, and the death of someone close. Sarah Ockler has responded publicly to point out how dumb this 'ban' is and the Vonnegut estate has responded by offering free copies of Slaughterhouse Five to students of Republic High School.

Slaughterhouse Five is one of the best books of the 20th century and is very moral indeed, highlighting the futility of war and pointing out that 'good guys' often do bad things. If Kurt Vonnegut were alive to hear of this 'ban', I expect he would be laughing his socks off. Especially as the Bible itself contains many tales of rape, slaughter, treachery, adultery and so forth - some of it sanctioned or initiated by the main protagonist himself: 'God'... However, it does not feature a race of aliens from Tralfamadore or a central character, an optometrist called Billy Pilgrim, who is lost in time. Or Kilgore Trout, more's the pity.

Scroggins is another of these American idiots who fail to grasp that under their much-vaunted constitution, church and state are separate. What the Bible, or any other holy book, teaches should not therefore be a consideration when it comes to determining the school curriculum. And when you think of the quantity and variety of different interpretations of exactly what it is that the Bible, or any other holy book, might teach, it's just as well.

I haven't been able to confirm this but, as I understand it, Scroggins does not actually have any children at the Republic High School. In which case it's none of his business anyway. Ho hum.

Scrabble Word Checker

For any Scrabble aficionado, enthusiast, devotee,fanatic, junkie, freak, nut or maniac out there, here is an official Scrabble word checker:




From the Collins website. Publishers of the official Scrabble books.

A tight jockstrap...

When Zambian tennis player Lighton Ndefwayl lost to his compatriot Musumba Bwayla in a local tournament, he had a considered and lengthy excuse for his defeat: "Bwayla is a stupid man and a hopeless player. He has a huge nose and is cross-eyed. Girls hate him. He beat me because my jockstrap was too tight and because when he serves he farts, and that made me lose my concentration, for which I am famous throughout Zambia."

And it looks like someone also lost their concentration when writing out his name.

(via  The Independent)

Riots 2

Wood Green was back to 'normal' yesterday, swarming with a mass of diverse humanity but with extra police, although some shops were boarded up awaiting repairs: Quicksilver, O2 phoneshop, Next, H&M, Leather Shop, Specsavers, Vison Express, Boots and Bodyshop (amongst others). So the rioters have got themselves new trainers, leather jackets, Ray Bans, mobiles, shirts and trousers, and they smell better.

This is from Charlie Brooker's article in The Guardian today, in which he takes the p**s out of the rioters -

"Why the obsession with trainers? Trainers are s**t. You stick them on your feet and walk around for a while 'til they go out of fashion. Whoopie doo. Yes, I know they're also status symbols, but anyone who tries to impress others with their shoe choice is a dismally pathetic character indeed – and anyone genuinely impressed by said footwear has all the soaring spirit of a punnet of moss. There's no life to be found in "look at my shoes". There just isn't."

Albums I Bought In 1966

Freak Out - The Mothers of Invention

Pet Sounds - The Beach Boys

Revolver - The Beatles

Aftermath - The Rolling Stones

Blonde on Blonde - Bob Dylan

Fresh Cream - Cream

The Monkees - The Monkees

(My excuse for the Monkees is that my great-aunt Ada had provided the funds and I felt duty bound to get something she'd heard of and wouldn't cause domestic ructions. Actually, it wasn't too bad as these things go.)

Merryn Makes A Chair

Riots

David Cameron recalled Parliament to debate the riots of the last few days and has made a big speech. That'll sort the problem out alright then. The MPs have all had a good grumble and expressed their outrage and now they can all go back on holiday, safe in the knowledge that their travel costs between Tuscany (or wherever) and Westminster and back can be claimed on expenses.

Nathaniel Tapley has written a well-observed article on his blog in which he draws a comparison between the behaviour of the rioters and that of David Cameron and Boris Johnson, amongst others, whilst members of the Bullingdon Club at Oxford: drunkenness and pointless vandalism. Tapley also points out how MPs should be the last people to criticise others for acts of short-sighted greed, given the expenses scandal and other acts of dishonesty perpetrated by our Honourable Friends. Worth reading.

Retribution has been promised for the rioting miscreants, but it would also be a good idea to look a bit more deeply into the issue to find out why the rioters behaved as they did. It's not as simple a problem as Cameron would like it to be.

Slender Threads in Edinburgh

Hello! I am on tour with Chickenshed at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. We are doing a show called Slender Threads, about the effects of a breast cancer diagnosis on a family. It's a tough subject! I am doing the technical side of things...this involves sound, video projection and being confused by the lighting desk. We got here on the 3rd of August and had some time to get used to everything in our flat. I'm sharing with Kieran, Michael, Mark and Phil C. My name is now Phlaines.

So ... our performance space, the Zoo Roxy. This used to be some kind of church and then was refurbished in 1909 as an Art House. The space is nice, a bit different to what we are used to at Chickenshed but it has a nice old character. It looked a bit small when we first got in but we all fit fine. We had 2 hours to tech run the whole show, which really wasnt enough. Also it didn't help that the brand new expensive projector mount broke so it wasn't safe to hang. So I used some brains and went to Homebase and bought a washer and fixed it. It was a stupid design. It's all going well so far, we have had a couple of good reviews and the 'Critics Choice' in The Times for dance. We had a critic in from The Scotsman today...I think she gave us a standing ovation or she could have been really eager to leave. Anyway this other review came out today which is a really good one and should help us with our lacklustre ticket sales: The List.

Anyway I'm going to make some spicy chicken now. Oh yeah we are also running a childrens show in the morning called Tales From The Shed, in the downstairs space of the Zoo Roxy called The Warren. I have to play the piano and make stupid noises - I'm pretty good at that.

Bye.

I've Thought Of A Way To Get Out Of Here!

[Where G is the universal gravitational constant,

M is the mass of the planet, star or other body, and

r is the distance from the centre of gravity].

The Correct Use of Dissonance

Things That Should Be Disinvented No. 43

Blister Packs

Why do manufacturers still insist on enclosing stuff in this wretched packaging? Impossible to open without a sharp knife and/or scissors, thereby risking severing an artery or major flesh wound. And sometimes damaging the product in the process. Surely maufacturers have also found themselves on the receiving end of blister packs and would thus have sent their designing chappies back to the drawing board to come up with an alternative. Or even a perforated edge along which one could tear. But it's probably more likely that they will come up with a new gadget specially designed for opening blister packs, reasonably priced at three times the cost of a pair of scissors...

Don't You Ever Learn

Quantum Suicide

Quantum Suicide is a scientific thought experiment. The scientist sits in front of a gun that is set up to either trigger or misfire, depending on the decay of a radioactive atom. With each run of the experiment, there is a 50% chance the gun will trigger. Under the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics, the gun will eventually kill the scientist. But if the 'many-worlds' interpretation is correct, then at each run of the experiment there will be a universe in which the scientist lives, and another in which he dies. The scientist can only ever be conscious of the world in which he LIVES, and so never seems to die. This leads to the fanciful speculation that the many-worlds interpretation implies all conscious beings are immortal.
(Imagine the scientist, realizing he cannot die, stepping outside the lab and seeing for the first time what is worthwhile about existence)

[via Blather]

Rugby League Super League XV

Last week, I received two complimentary tickets for the Super League XV match between Harlequins and Warrington Wolves. They were a consolation price in a free prize draw thingy - I had been hoping to win a Mini Cooper, but there you go.

I am not remotely interested in Rugby League, Super or not, so I offered the tickets to various people of my acquaintance who I know are interested in rugby, sport in general, or who have some geographical connection with either team. There were no takers for the tickets and only three people even bothered to reply.

Eventually, only 3,842 punters attended the match at the 'Twickenham Stoop', where the ground capacity is 14,816, and it rained heavily all afternoon. It must have been a bit glum in the stadium - the match itself was apparently a one-sided affair with Warrington Wolves the easy winners at 54 points to 24. It would seem that the general apathy towards this fixture was not misplaced!

Hiromi at Ronnie Scott's

It was my pleasure last week to be the guest, along with Our Phil, of Chamberlain Enterprises at Ronnie Scott's 'Jazz' Club for a performance by the exceedingly talented pianist Hiromi with her trio, comprising Anthony Jackson on bass and Steve Smith on drums.

Hiromi is classically trained but plays jazz, so what you get is a kind of jazz/prog rock fusion with a few funky bits thrown in. Her technique is immaculate, and statistical density presents no problems for her. However, she does know when to hold back and be cool and, importantly, she certainly gets the best out of her supporting musicians (both of whom are at least twice her age and very seasoned). She's quite a performer and leaps about, jumps up and down and smiles and laughs a lot, which is unusual for jazzers who are usually too focussed on being cool. A fantastic, dynamic set with loads of contrasts and occasional humour too. You can download her latest album Voice from Amazon for £6.49. Recommended.

I will spare you the usual moans about Ronnie's rubbish toilet facilities, ridiculous drinks and food prices, and cramped seating.

Well Done, Sherlock!

It's never happened before, folks! The Well Done, Sherlock! award for spotting the bleeding obvious, and something the rest of us have known about for ages, goes to a collective rather than to an individual. Yes. The Well Done, Sherlock(s)! award goes on this occasion to the collected politicians of the UK Parliament who have at last acknowledged that Ruper Murdoch is a slimeball and not  the kind of guy who should be running a vast media organisation with the power to make or break a politician's career (or anyone else's career or life, for that matter). I find it highly ironic that although nothing substantial about Murdoch or his corporation has changed since last month, last year, or the last General Election, all of a sudden these Guardians of The Nation's Well-Being want nothing to do with Murdoch and All His Works whereas they were hitherto queueing up to lick his boots. I'm particularly impressed with Cameron who can't distance himself fast enough from his erstwhile chums. Unfortunately, I doubt if he's in the clear just yet - Andy Coulson and Rebekkah Woods may yet return to haunt him. This one will run and run (Ed). Meanwhile, Well Done, Sherlocks!

Make Everything OK

The magic button

Anniversaries

An interesting week for anniversaries this week. On Monday it was the anniversary of the 1921 truce between the IRA and the British Government in the Irish War of Independence. Of course, that was not quite the end of the trouble and on Tuesday, the (Northern) Irish celebrated Orangemen's Day when they annually try to re-start the war, in commemoration of the Battle of the Boyne, although it's not quite so clear these days what they hope to gain from it. We have Bastille Day tomorrow, which triggered the French revolution in 1789 - and the French remain bloody awkward. Friday brings the anniversary of the Greek Junta/CIA sponsored coup d'etat against Makarios in Cyprus in 1974, which led to the Turkish invasion and so forth.

But more significantly, in cosmological terms, we have the first Neptunian anniversary of the discovery by Earthmen of the planet Neptune. That is, although Earthmen discovered Neptune in 1846, it is only one year, or orbit of the sun, so far as Neptune is concerned. (Apparently, Galileo had seen Neptune some years before but thought it was a star rather than a planet.) Since the recategorisation of Pluto as a dwarf planet in the Kuiper Belt, Neptune is the outermost planet in Earth's solar system.

More info at the redoubtable BBC.

Chickenshed: Slender Threads

A works outing to the Chickenshed Theatre the other day for a preview performance of their Edinburgh Festival Fringe show 'Slender Threads'.

It's a multimedia show involving dance, theatre, pre-recorded audio and visual projection. The production centres on how a family deals with cancer, and the tensions it creates. Not what you might call cheerful. But it is a subject that most of us will have to face up to either directly or indirectly at some time.

As a 'fringe' show, the production necessarily has a small cast and minimal props/scenery and so forth. But a massive production would be inappropriate for the subject matter. Imaginitive use of audiovisual techniques, and convincing performances by the actors maintain the focus and the aim is to get you to think about it. A quite considerable technical achievement. So if you're in Edinburgh between 5 and 28 August, check it out at Zoo Roxy (The Loft), Venue 115, 2 Roxburgh Place, EH8 9SU.

Meanwhile, you could also sponsor or take part in the  Cancer Research 'Race for Life'.

Bromhidrosis

In today's Guardian; "Mosquitoes lured to their death by synthetic odour of smelly feet."

An enterprising scientist, Fredros Okumu, is developing a mosquito trap that emits human odours to entice unsuspecting mozzies towards enzappification and an early death. He's getting some of his funding from Bill Gates so it's good to know all that money Microsoft have had from me over the years is doing something worthwhile.

The news that the exquisite little inconvenience known to us regular folks as stinkfoot has been responsible for one's mozzie bites will no doubt be welcomed by the manufacturers of 'Odour Eaters' sprays and insoles. However, there might be some fun to be gained in our house by leaving El Prez's feet exposed to the atmosphere and lying in wait with one's swatter to zap the buggers as they approach. Provision of the necessary olfactory defence systems notwithstanding.
See also Le Post for a French perspective on FZ's analysis of this phenomenon.

Todd Rundgren

Another in our series of reminders of the existence of Mr Todd Rundgren.

He'll be playing four gigs in England in October. Representatives of the Xorg Collective will be attending the show at the Jazz Cafe on 3 October. Our esteemed chums Lord Pantaloon and Co will be at The Ritz in Manchester on the 1st.

Just one small complaint. The tickets are sold via HMV and there is, as usual, a booking fee and so forth. But a new dodge is that if you get the tickets via e-mail, they charge another pound. A rip off, methinks, as it costs HMV nothing to send an e-mail.

Meanwhile, Todd has an 'official bootleg' album out 'For Lack of Honest Work', a 3-disc set featuring live versions of his 'hits' played by various line-ups over the years.

Hendrix on the Radio

BBC Radio 6 broadcast a one hour documentary on Jimi Hendrix at 3.00 a.m. this morning : Hendrix on the Radio, available for a week on BBC iPlayer. Worth a listen, although there's no new information or insights for the cognoscenti; the focus is on Jimi's sessions for the BBC in 1967, and there's the soundtrack for the famous appearance on the Lulu TV show. The album of Jimi's BBC sessions has been deleted but can still be obtained via Amazon Market Place for about £7.

Hendrix sounds just as good now as he did at the time. Innovative, electrifying, and generally rather groovy.

Wimbledon

Another outing for members of the collective, to Wimbledon for the day.

Not being members of the rich and famous or even the cognoscenti, this involved queueing for tickets so we had a very early start. Up at 4.30 am to drive to the Underground, then take the tube to Southfields, walk to Wimbledon and begin queueing. We arrived at 7.09 am and by 11.11 am were seated in Court No.12. Fortunately it was a nice day, I had an interesting book to read, and so the waiting went by fairly easily.

We watched a complete Ladies Singles match between Wickmayer and Kusnetsova, which was quite a good match and entertaining because Ms Wickmayer, a Belgian of Austrian descent, got very passionate and excitable. She made a most ridiculous noise every time she hit the ball: it sounded like she was saying a secret word, like 'omni'. See video below. The other noise you can hear is Kusnetsova who made this pathetic little 'euuurrr' sound in response to Wickmayer's 'omni'. Wickmayer emerged the victor.

Next up were Melzer and Tursanov, two Gentlemen who had to finish off their match from the previous day. Again, a good match although Melzer was clearly the better player, and won in the end. Tursanov was reliant solely on power rather than craft. By then we had been sitting down for four hours so decided to wander about a bit. The catch with that is by doing so, you lose your seat and will have to queue up all over again either there or elsewhere.

So we saw bits of other matches on the other courts here and there, got bumped into a lot by the general throng milling about, and discovered the extortionate prices in the Wimbledon shop and throughout the concession stands. Seven quid for a glass of Pimms, which was two-thirds ice, and £870 for an 'official' blazer. Caramba. Eventually, the rain came about 7 pm so we left and ended up at 'Ed's Diner' where some high-cholesterol grub was consumed with relish, coffee and a milk shake. Spiffing.

The Wimbledon chaps have got the whole thing well organised, and the stewards are awfully nice. Football clubs could learn a thing or two.

Michael Gove

Michael Gove. He's an annoying little sh*t, isn't he?
(I could go into some depth in respect of the shortfalls and fallacies in Government education policy, not to mention the cack-handed approach of Mr Gove. But what's the point? He's not paying attention.)

Pygmalion

A works outing last Sunday to Shaw's Corner in Ayot St Lawrence, Hertfordshire for an outdoor performance of George Bernard Shaw's play 'Pygmalion'. Particularly apt as Shaw's Corner used to be where the great man lived from 1906 until he donated it to The National Trust on his death in 1950. It's worth a visit if you're at all interested in Shaw - if only to see his revolving shed where he did most of his writing - but there's loads of artifacts and memorabilia lying about. It's pretty much as Shaw left it.

There can't be many people who are not familiar with 'Pygmalion', if only because of the musical 'My Fair Lady' which was based on it. Shaw himself nicked the idea from the Greeks; Pygmalion was the King of Cyrprus who made a statue of Aphrodite which he fell in love with and so he prayed to the goddess to bring it to life. She instructed him to kiss the statue and Hey Presto, Bob's yer uncle. He and the statue went on to have a son who was named Paphos. Thankfully, Shaw left all this rather weird and deviant behaviour out of his play and just stuck to the concept of transformimg something base into something fine and cultured. But through work and technical expertise rather than pagan mumbo jumbo.

I studied 'Pygmalion' in the Fourth Form at school (age 14/15) and was cast as Higgins by my English teacher who observed that I was an 'old cynic' just like Higgins. Harumph; is it any wonder I bear the psychological scars I do?

The performance took place on the patio of the house and the audience were placed on the lawn which slopes downwards from the house. We were invited to bring a picnic and our own chairs. No sound system was in use, so the actors had to project and use their skills to ensure we didn't miss any of the dialogue. Most of the actors managed this well enough, although some were better than others. The chap playing Colonel Pickering, however, didn't look as if he would manage to complete the performance - he was a bit ancient and doddery. But the central protagonists, Higgins and Eliza, did well and were convincing. Higgins was perhaps a little too rambunctious and voluble but that's OK. The fellow playing Alfred Doolittle stumbled occasionally over his lines but, again, he looked like he's probably close to retirement so I'll let him off. Nevertheless he delivered the 'undeserving poor' monologue well enough - this is a particular moment where Shaw slams home his Socialist views in a viscious satire of the Poor Laws. (The Reform Movement and the Progressive Liberals were campaigning for legislation to repeal the Poor Laws at the time Shaw was writing Pygmalion.)

Any road up, a jolly pleasant evening. Loads of our chums were there so we enjoyed a very sociable picnic as well as Shaw's erudite discourse on class, social mobility, poverty and prejudice.

Vultures

Those Wacky Sons of Sun in the financial sector have dreamed up another spiffing wheeze for making money out of nowhere. Which the rest of us will have to pay for in future taxation.

The Greek economy is collapsing and the Greek Government seems likely to default on its loans from the financial sector, which it obtained by selling Government Bonds to the financial sector. Some of the whizz kids who bought these bonds are getting nervous and worry that they won't get their money back, so they are selling on the debt to other whizz kids at a discount, thereby cutting their losses. For example, they might have 100 million Euros of bonds but in order to get something back on them they'll sell them on for 60 million Euros rather than lose everything. The other whizz kid buys these discounted bonds in the hope that the Greek Government gets another bale out from Germany, the IMF, the EU or wherever because they reckon that when there's a bale out they'll be able to demand and get the full face value from the Greek Government and thus make a profit, in this example, of 40 million Euros. A neat trick if you can pull it off.

But where does the money for the bale out come from? Either by taxes raised by the German  Government, EU, IMF or whoever by them borrowing the money from the financial sector. So once again, Governments end up borrowing money from the financial sector to pay back the money they borrowed from the financial sector. And eventually, when the wheels come off, us poor mugs who pay our taxes foot the bill for the whole shebang.

Art

This chap's ancient TV show The Joy of Painting keeps cropping up at odd times on various cable/freeview channels. His creepy delivery is somehow strangely mesmerising. I think he's been dead for some time now.

Anyway, his particular schtick was that he would paint these bucolic landscapes using very few colours and a minimum of strokes, leading you to believe you could do the same and produce a painting fit for any biscuit tin in a mere 28 minutes.

Funk Assessment #29 : Aretha Franklin, The Weight

Now then, now then. What's funky about this record? Besides Aretha herself, that is.

Everything.

Funky slide guitar by Duane Allman, alongside the funky Muscle Shoals house band (more info on Muscle Shoals here), with funky groovemeister Jerry Jemmott on bass. Funky backing vocals, and snappyfunky brass section. Maybe it's the bass that's the most funkiest of the funkageness... or the drums...you decide!

Incidentally, what we also have here is an example of a cover version that was worth doing; Aretha almost makes it into a new song.

I'm Not Happy With (vol.27): Luton Airport

"Were you truly wafted here from Paradise?"

"No mate. Luton Airport."

Right well, to begin with: this place styles itself as 'London Luton'. Listen: it's not in London, and nobody in Luton or London thinks it is. It's in flippin' Bedfordshire, 35 miles from London and there's Hertfordshire in between. Assuming there's no road works, pile-ups, fog or the usual congestion it will take at least an hour to drive from Luton, Bedfordshire to London in London.

And... every time you go there, the layout is different. They've erected some new barriers, changed the access to the car park, moved the pay stations or somesuch. And they make you pay for everything; want a luggage trolley? That'll be a pound, thank you. Want to drop someone off? That'll be a pound, thank you. Picking someone up? One pound, thank you.

And another thing. If you're picking up a disabled person you can't go straight to the 'disabled' bit of the car park, leave the car and find the disabledee. You have to park, get yer ticket, find the cripple then, assuming they've got a Blue Cripples Badge, find a functionary who will do the necessary on your car park ticket to absolve you of the extortionate car park fee - not easy at 1.30 am. Meanwhile, although the airport functionaries will wheel the cripple in a wheelchair to the perimeter of the car park, they don't provide a luggage trolley. They use another wheelchair instead.

And you have to find all this out by yourself, through bitter experience. Harumph.

FabMary's Photos: Gigs

Over at FabMary's blog she mentions the difficulties red lights can cause a person when photographing your favourite teenage rockin' combo. Here's one she took at t'Albert Hall of His Highness Jeff Beck when the lighting guy went all blue. Quite nifty really. I like the way the audience are all sitting enthralled,  reflecting the blue light and, because he has a white light on him, Mr Beck is the only one with any other colour. Just goes to show that all you are ever actually photographing is light.

ASUS K52F-EX963V

About a month ago I invested in a new computer. Despite pressure from some quarters to buy a Macbook Pro, on grounds of budgetary responsibility I opted for a PC-type running Windows 7. The fact is you get more for your money - the equivalent Apple, although probably better qualty and more 'cool', would have cost three times as much. Moreover, there would have been some problems in training El Prez to use a Mac alongside the PC she uses at work. So here it is, and I'm quite chuffed with it, on the whole. An i5 processor, 640 gb hard drive, 4gb RAM. All the usual plugholes including an HDMI socket. Battery life is 2 and a bit hours in normal use. 

Wot I Been Reading

Reading of books has taken a back seat of late as I have been studying Words and Music, a level 3 Open University course as part of a BA (Humanities) Degree. It has been hard going although often enjoyable and fascinating, and I have encountered lots of music (e.g. opera, South Asian, and Renaissance) which hitherto had been a mystery to me. Just at the minute I am struggling with an assignment in which I am required to compare Regis' Missa L'Homme Arme with Byrd's Magnificat. I am bound to say that I find the academic approach to music analysis a tad contrived and indulgent, not to say turgid. But there you go.

Any road up, I have managed to squeeze in a few tomes meanwhile, three of which are:

The Last Hero by Terry Pratchett - the twenty-somethingth book in the Discworld series. The story features Cohen the Barbarian leading The Silver Horde of ageing heroes as they seek to return fire to the Gods, with explosives as interest. The wizards and Lord Vetinari get involved to stop them, using a flying ship and...so on, with hilarious results.

Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions by Edwin A Abbott - written in 1884 as a satire on social hierarchy but intriguing as it challenges dimensional perception. He pretty much agrees with me that there may well be lots of dimensions we don't know about. Reassuring to discover this bloke had the same thought as me, one hundred years earlier, and I'm not as mad as the glazed looks I receive would suggest.

Riders of The Purple Sage by Zane Grey - his first successful book and definitive of the genre (ahem). It features religious and sexual oppression, cattle stampedes, shootings, heroism, horses, revenge and big hats.

Meanwhile, the fortnightly London Review of Books has been providing some erudite, incisive and informative reading matter including articles/reviews on subjects such as Laurent Gbagbo, the American Civil War, the Afterlife, higher education, espionage in World War II, and many more. Very stimulating - I only wish I could remember it all.

Entanglification

As you can see, the Entanglification Pixies have paid us another visit and conspired to muddle up a conglomeration of wires that do who knows what. Originally, all that I had in this spot was the loudspeaker, the wires from it to the amplifier, and the mains plug. Somehow or other, the wires have multiplied themselves and added bits of hardware which may or may not be connected to each other in some mysterious way unbeknownst to me. Not only would the Health & Safety Executive not be happy with this disarrangement but, given my ageing and failing eyesight, there is a serious risk I will tread on something here and render it unserviceable. Perhaps those responsible - if they be Earthly beings and not in some way connected with the Pixies and/or Maxwell's Demons - will do something about it.

Just When You Think It's All Over...

Panikos the builder and his chums finished the ramp and have installed a nice metal gate, which is perfectly upright and level. It's a pleasure to see craftsmen doing their jobs right.

So. El Presidente trotted on down to t'Town Hall and told 'em the job is finished and asked please can we have our Completion Certificate. Erm. no. Not yet. They have to inspect it, then do the paperwork and blah-de-blah and so forth, and then we have to pay another 100 Euros. Yer what? Yep, that's right - it's 50 Euros per Completion Certificate and we have to pay for two because we had to submit a revised planning application showing the changed kitchen wall. And after that, can we have our 200 Euro deposit back then? Erm, no. T'Council will be keeping back one third of that to cover potential road works.

Sometimes, you get the feeling they're making it up.

What's The Greek For Jobsworth?

When we are in Cyprus, we sign up for an Internet connection with the estimable state communications institution CYTA, which comes to us via the telephone line. We take out a 'temporary' subscription because it works out cheaper to pay the connection fee each time than to pay for a whole year's subscription. I haven't done the precise calculations but I think we would need to be there for six months at a stretch for it to be more economical otherwise. But if I was going to be there that long, I would investigate other suppliers. Sadly there is no cable in our bit of Larnaca.

Any road up, you'd think it would be straightforward enough to pop along to their office at the beginning and end of one's sojourn in the Isle of Aphrodite to fix this up. But no. When I went to get connected, CYTA refused as I am not the named telephone account holder (my wonderful spouse, El Presidente, is. At the time, she was still in Old Blighty.) They told me I had to get Power of Attorney if I wanted to use their service and borrow their modem. El Prez managed to get round the Jobsworthopoulos syndrome eventually by phoning their HQ from the UK and telling them what was what; HQ agreed to provide t'Internet and advised that she phone the manager of the Larnaca office and confirm that it was alright to deal with me. This was successful although, as insurance, I took my mother-in-law with me on my second visit to CYTA so that she could give them the look of death should there be any difficulty.

Both myself and El Prez have now returned to Blighty so I packed up all the gear and asked my mother-in-law to take it back to the CYTA office and to ask them to disconnect t'Internet. Imagine our bafflement when CYTA refused to accept the return of their modem and to disconnect because she is not the named account holder. Power of Attorney blah-de-blah. So El Presidente has been back on the phone to HQ to advise them once again what is what and to stop being silly billies. We await mother-in-law's report on the success or otherwise of her return visit.

Now That's What I Call a Designer Chair

Merryn Haines-Gadd is an ace furniture/product designer based in Oxfordshire. She also has a corny sense of humour. Featured in this month's Empire magazine is her Director's Chair which recycles old magazines. You could use any old magazines but this is a Director's Chair so she used old cinema magazines. More wizard ideas at her website here.

The Saga Continues

Older readers will recall that the building of our flat here has not gone smoothly, either with the builder or the Larnaca Municipality. Nothing has changed in the months since we were last here.

We were refused a Building Completion Certificate because, inter alaia, we had not built a ramp to facilitate parking the car at the back of the house, so one of our first jobs this visit has been to get said ramp built, thanks to Panikos the other builder. That job done and all other outstanding matters completed, El Presidente contacted t'Council to ask for the Certificate. Of course, the relevant jobsworth was not available so we had to wait another day till he phoned us. Imagine our surprise when he told us we couldn't have the Certificate yet because we had to submit a revised application for planning permission to account for the kitchen wall being two feet from where it was on the original plan. Yer what?

El Presidente was immediately on the phone to Mr Dikiaos the architect to enquire about this alleged deficiency. At first, MrDikiaos claimed that he had prepared a revised application that he had given to us but after a short delay his secretary corrected him to point out that Dikiaos himself had handed it in to t'Council, and quoted the reference number. El Prez was thus back on to Mr Spyrou Jobsworthopoulos to advise him accordingly. "Oh, umm, I'll check it...Oh yes here it is..But you'll have to come in to the office tomorrow and pay us another 120 Euros to process it." Caramba, and other exclamations of disbelief. Meanwhile, of course, Mr Spyrou still has to visit the building to inspect the aforesaid ramp for himself. So it seems touch and go whether we'll get the Completion Certificate this visit.

The irony is that without the Certificate we can't get the Land Registry to amend the Deeds to the property, and while that remains outstanding the flat does not officially exist. And therefore the council can't charge us taxes for it. But what's the betting they try to backdate the taxes once the place is registered?

As for Marinos the psychotic builder (curse his name for the son of a dog), we have avoided contact altogether. But there remain some outstanding aspects such as the failure of the hot water and the inadequate drainage to be resolved. These will form several major bones of contention come September when Marinos (yeccch spit) will be expected to receive his final payment - which he ain't getting! (This one will run and run - Ed).

It's Suppertime Again!

The street outside our house continues to serve a double-purpose as a repair shop for motorcycles during the day and as a restaurant in the evening. Here we see workers from the Parliamentary Office enjoying a dinner of souvlakia etc, and being waited on by Dimitris, the son of George, proprietor of the taverna and second cousin of my mother-in-law. Presumably this was some work-related celebration or bonding exercise. Dimitris was quite chuffed to have these guys as customers as they will no doubt spread the word amongst their colleagues about the sheer excellence of the kebabs on offer.

Boom! Boom! Out Go De Lights!

There we were at about half past ten in the evening sitting quietly going about our reading, blogging, Facebookery and so forth when crackle pop! Off went the power. A quick examination of our neighbours' houses from the outside showed that there was not a generalised power cut and a double check of the fusebox showed nothing internal had blown, so we called in the assistance of the estimable National Power Company.

An engineer turned up at 00:50 am and checked it out, only to report that the junction between our house and the mains had blown so there would have to be some major digging up of the pavement and, in order not to cause severe unrest in the neighbourhood, this would be delayed till the following morning. Fair enough, but instead of 'first thing' the functionaries showed up about 9:00 am whence they sat around till the engineers turned up an hour or so later. The jobs are clearly delineated; you have a crew of (Romanian) sub-contracted labourers who do the digging and you have a crew of qualified electrical engineers who do the fixing of the buzzing electrical bits. And the engineers tell the labourers where to dig.

Any road up, they got on with it and we had power back after about fifteen hours. However, it was by then Friday afternoon and the labourers who fill up the holes don't start jobs that late, or work over the weekend. Reinstatement thus eventually took place a week later. Pictured are the electrical engineers, in the blue overalls, who both look uncannily similar to the famous bullet-headed thespian Ross Kemp. The other guy is one of the Romanians. Quite a genial bunch, all told.

Schadenfreude Vol.27: Gooooooooooaaall!

Man Utd outclassed. Should have held on to Carlos Tevez like what I said.

Hideaway

I don't suppose Freddie King minded that Eric Clapton covered this on The Bluesbreakers album with John Mayall as it probably brought him a not inconsiderable sum in royalty payments. But here he is in the same year,1966, showing how it's done. Note the lady dancing on the piano, something neither Mayall or Clapton ever went in for, but I reckon both their backing bands could learn a thing or two from the jiving, jitterbugging cool cats backing Freddie.

Mosquitos 3 v. Xorg United 1

Not doing so bad so far. Untroubled by the flying bloodsuckers during the night but the little rotters got me yesterday afternoon whilest I slumbered on the balcony on a post-luncheon metaphysical haze induced, no doubt, by the imbiblification of a bottle of KEO... Meanwhile, one of the blighters bought it the previous evening by landing in my cup of coffee while I was on the phone. So that's one coffee-experimenting mosquito removed from the gene pool. Which may or may not be a good thing.

Nearly All Over...

Click on the picture to embiggificate.

'Amazing Stories' comic back in 1939 suggested that it can happen tomorrow, and this fellow says it will. At 6pm on 21 May, wherever you are, starting with a humungous earthquake. Those who The Almighty deems worthwhile will ascend into heaven in 'The Rapture' and the rest will perish in judgement on Earth five months after that.

So, it's goodnight from me!

On the other hand he could be wrong, but it's not the end of the world if he is. See wikipedia for a summary of some previous predictions.

Gravity Probe: NASA Video

Following on from my earlier post on the Gravity Probe B experiment which confirmed that Einstein's prediction that we are in a space-time vortex was correct, here's a short video from NASA.

(Sorry about the tone of the commentary, which is a bit patronising.)

Addendum: This is a three-dimensional visualisation which doesn't attempt to portray the four-dimensional actuality. So, the bump you see isn't just happening at one end of the earth, as it appears here. It's happening in all directions at once.

Greetings, Earthling

Things I Have Successfully Avoided Vol.27: Eurovision 2011

I am pleased to report that I have managed to avoid The Eurovision Song Contest almost completely this year. I have not heard any of the songs or even glimpsed a video of any of the entrants whatsoever. I might have totally avoided it altogether but my mother-in-law unwittingly told me that Azerbijan had won it and that Cyprus had been eliminated in the qualifying rounds. But that is all I know and all I want to know about it, and I wish someone would have the decency to end it forever. A testament to banality.

The Twangmasters

Broadcast last Saturday 14 May at 10.30 am on BBC Radio 4: The Twangmasters, a light-hearted look at what constitutes a good lead guitarist; recommended for anyone who ever fancied himself on the guitar. The usual suspects get a mention - Hendrix, Clapton, BB King, Jeff Beck, Frank Zappa, Steve Vai, Ritchie Blackmore and Chuck Berry etc. One interesting bit of information that was news to me though was that Chuck Berry nicked his guitar intro to 'Johnny B Goode' from Carl Hogan, who was the guitarist in Louis Jordan's band (on the 1946 record "Ain't That Just Like A Woman.")

Notably, however, George Harrison is given special mention as being an ace lead guitarist because he didn't do flashy stuff, he did solos that added to the song and became part of it.

Well Done, Sherlock!

You're probably thinking that the estimable Mervyn King has yet again won the Well Done, Sherlock! award this time around for his startling discovery that inflation will rise over the next twelve months because the price of things like petrol, gas and electricity will be going up.

But no. The winner of the Well Done, Sherlock! award this time goes to that well known brainbox and incisive thinker, The Secretary of State for Business, The Rt Hon Vince Cable MP. He's just realised that his partners in the Coalition Government, the Conservatives, are "ruthless, calculating and thoroughly tribal". None the less, he is going to continue to work with them. Clearly, he likes his comfy seat in the Cabinet.

Not Gonna Fill Ya Fulla Lead, Varmint!

It's good to learn that the US military is doing it's bit to save the planet. The Picatinny Arsenal in New Jersey has developed new small arms ammunition, the M855A1 Enhanced Performance Round 5.56mm cartridge, which eliminates 2,000 tons of lead each year from the manufacturing process. Moreover, the new ammunition also provides improvements in hard-target capability, it is more dependable, more consistent performance at all distances, more accurate, with reduced muzzle flash and a higher velocity. The new ammunition is already being deployed in Afghanistan. So that's a win-win scenario then. Although maybe not if you're an Afghanistani insurgent.

Einstein Was A Clever Boy

In 1959, some boffins at Stanford University dreamed up an experiment for testing Einstein's Theory of General Relativity which predicted that the Earth (or any other large mass) distorts space-time by virtue of its gravity and movement. The experiment was adopted by NASA and has received other independent funding too, and it has now delivered its final results which prove conclusively that Mr Einstein was right.
The experiment has taken so long because the boffins have had to wait for technology to catch up with their ideas, but it is basically simple:
"Gravity Probe B (GP-B) is a NASA physics mission to experimentally investigate Einstein’s 1916 general theory of relativity - his theory of gravity. GP-B uses four spherical gyroscopes and a telescope, housed in a satellite orbiting 642 km (400 miles) above the Earth, to measure, with unprecedented accuracy, two extraordinary effects predicted by the general theory of relativity:
1) the geodetic effect - the amount by which the Earth warps the local spacetime in which it resides; and
2) the frame-dragging effect - the amount by which the rotating Earth drags its local spacetime around with it.
GP-B tests these two effects by precisely measuring the precession (displacement) angles of the spin axes of the four gyros over the course of a year and comparing these experimental results with predictions from Einstein’s theory."
(Two-page .pdf with more info here).
So I guess it's not a Theory any longer. And it shows that what we think of as time is affected by gravity. And time is not an absolute. (More on that story later).
Note: Opportunity Cost Analysis: This experiment has cost about $750 million, which is about £460 million, spread over 52 years. This equates to about six weeks' worth of war in Afghanistan for the UK and about nine days of air strikes/cruise missiles launched by the USA against Libya.

Alternatives

Margaret Thatcher (yah boo hiss) once famously said, when implementing her misbegotten and nasty neo-liberal capitalist financial policies that "There Is No Alternative". Of course, as enny fule kno, there was, and her policies buggered everything up for a lot of people and set the scene for the financial crisis of 2007/2008 (deregulation etc), while making things better for a few people who were already pretty well off. Her successors are doing the same today, claiming that there is no alternative to the cuts in public expenditure, which will disproportionately affect those who can least afford it and who had least to do with the causes of the financial crisis. Meanwhile, the bastards in the financial markets who are to blame are protected and are getting richer all the time.

However, today we are being offered the chance of an alternative of sorts through the referendum on electoral reform. The Alternative Vote system is not the best, and it won't necessarily produce better representation for the electorate as a whole. But it is a step in the right direction and better than the existing First Past The Post system. In 1979, when Thatcher came to power, the Tories got 43% of the votes from a 76% turnout so only 33% of the elctorate voted for Thatcher's government; not quite the mandate she claimed to have. In 2010, the Tories got 36% of a 65% turnout which is only 23.5% of the electorate voting for Cameron's government. Definitely not a mandate for the current wave of half-baked, misconceived and doctrinal economic and social policies being inflicted upon us.

Moreover, given that David Cameron, the British National Party and the Foxhunt Association (amongst others) are against any change and that the 'No' campaign has been funded chiefly by the financial sector, I think we can see who will benefit from keeping the present system and who fears any change.

Rage Against The School Band

I guess this means that Rage Against The Machine should now be considered mainstream.


Head-Banging School Band Plays Rage Against The Machine - Watch more Funny Videos

Grubs Up!

 

Trout, Grilled Mushrooms, and Pork Chops

(see below)

at

The Mill, Kakopetria

Cyperus Alternifolius: The Mill, Kakopetria

Cyperus alternifolius, syn. Cyperus racemosus is also known as the umbrella plant or umbrella sedge. It is a perennial plant which is native to Madagascar, Mauritius and The Réunion island. I found a large specimen growing at The Mill restaurant in Kakopetria, Cyprus, and took a cutting. It's really easy to propagate: just cut a healthy stem about 10 cm from the top, trim the leaves to about 2 cm and place it upside down in a jar of water. After a week or so, roots will start to appear and a week or so later green shoots will begin to grow. Let the shoots grow a couple of cm, then plant in a small pot of compost. Keep it well watered - never let it dry out - and give it plenty of light. This cutting was taken last November and is now flourishing here in the UK five months later after one re-potting.

If you're ever in or near Kakopetria, The Mill restaurant is worth a visit. Their speciality is grilled trout in a butter, lemon and garlic sauce, from a local trout farm. The rest of the grub on offer is pretty good too, especially the grilled mushrooms and the pork chops, but don't bother with the seafood salad - you're in the mountains. The landlord is a loquacious fellow; a Cypriot who emigrated to England and ran a restaurant in Maryland Road, Wood Green *. He  eventually moved back to Cyprus where he opened the Maryland Restaurant in Kakopetria - where he introduced his Trout Speciality - before acquiring and redeveloping the Mill.
* a couple of streets along from Spencer Avenue, where my grandfather lived. Small world.

Stravinsky in 3D

A novel works outing experience  recently for members of the Xorg Collective to The Royal Festival Hall for a performance by The Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Iland Volkov, of Igor Stravinsky's 'The Rite of Spring', with dancer Julia Mach.

Cognoscenti will be aware that 'The Rite of Spring' was originally written as a ballet, choreographed by Vaslav Nijinsky, a Polish-Ukrainian who grew up in Russia and trained at the Imperial Ballet. Nijinsky hitched up with producer Sergei Dhiagelev, with whose company The Ballets Russe he travelled to Paris, whence occurred the first performance of 'The Rite of Spring' in collaboration with Mr Stravinsky in 1913. Apparently Igor and Vaslav did not get along too well; Vaslav thought Igor was a patronising old grump and Igor thought Vaslav was a musical dunce. Be that as it may, Nijinsky's choreography broke down barriers as he dreamed up modern dance to complement Stravinsky's modern music. However, it seems he went a little too far and mimed autoerotic behaviour at some point; in 1913 this was a bit challenging for your average ballet audience and a riot broke out in the theatre. But in the long run, the controversy helped publicise Stravinsky's music, and 'The Rite of Spring' in particular. It has subsequently been performed more as a piece of music on its own merit rather than  necessarily as a ballet.

Any road up, with the recent development of 3D digital technology this chap called  Klaus Obermaier has devised a new way of making the piece visual. This involves a lone dancer being projected live in 3D onto a huge screen above the orchestra, with added digital effects. The whole thing is choreographed; the dancer's movements are coordinated with the music and the computer operator tweaks the images accordingly, with the result that the audience sees , with the aid of 3D glasses, some weird and groovy stuff floating about above and in front  of the stage.
Although the audio-visual concept of the performance is quite novel, the choreography itself was not especially challenging or innovative nor likely to cause a riot. But we got some quirky moments and elements of surrealism along with stretches of what were essentially pretty psychedelic far-out effects. I can't say that the visuals were representational of 'The Rite of Spring' as Nijinsky's ballet reportedly was, being concerned primarily with pagan fertility rites, but it looked good nonetheless and it will be worthwhile trying further experiments in this genre. Obermaier went mostly for the abstract rather than the literal.
The technical set-up required that a blacked out platform was needed for the dancer. This was erected on the right of the stage, taking up the space usually occupied by the basses who were consequently relocated to the left, squashed in behind the first violins. Other sections of the orchestra were likewise relocated and squeezed in, with the result that we didn't get the full dynamics of the symphony orchestra.  The sound came across as two-dimensional as a result - focused within the plane of the stage rather than leaping out  at us.  Future performances should be given somewhere with a bigger stage! However, this inconvenience did not deter the orchestra and conductor from giving the music a fair old seeing to and their performance was pretty darn good.
Prior to the 3D business, the orchestra played two supporting pieces; 'Tuning Up' by Edgard Varese, and 'Lontano' by Gyorgy Ligeti. These were performed wonderfully. Conductor and orchestra played the Varese piece with the right amount of jollity and slyness appropriate for Varese's take on one of classical music's rituals, and with the delicacy and concentration needed for the ethereal Ligeti. Full marks to them, but I'm deducting points for the noisy air conditioning in the Festival Hall which intruded, particularly during 'Lontano'. A bonus point for not charging extra for the 3D glasses though.