The simple pleasures of life

On Sunday my boyfriend went to visit his grandparents in the country. He brought these beautiful flowers from his grandmother's garden.

As if that wasn't enough beauty to cheer me up, then there was a spectacular light in the late afternoon.

Joe Orton

Joe strikes a provocative pose, as always.

There's a warm pleasure in re-discovering an author you haven't read in a long while. That's what happened when I came upon a slender volume of Joe's Orton's play "What the Butler Saw" on a recent library visit. I had quite an interest in Joe Orton about 5-6 years ago and read most of his stuff. It started when I found an anthology of his plays in the discount bin of an independent bookstore in Washington, DC. I then read not only his plays but also some of his early novels, his diaries, and the excellent biography written by John Lahr.

The fact is that his personality and life are at least as interesting as his work: born to a working class in Leiscester, UK in 1933. While attending secretarial school he got into amateur theatricals and secured a scholarship to the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. It was there that he met Kenneth Halliwell, who was to be his lover, mentor, and murderer. Halliwell was already in his mid-20s, came from a middle class background, was intelligent and cultivated, and since his parents had both died he had inherited enough money to be financially independent.

They moved in together in the homophobic environment of early 1950s England. They worked in regional theatrical productions for a few years, but then they gave up on the theater career. Using some of Halliwell's inheritance they bought a tiny bedsit in Islington, London. They gave up on regular work, living on Halliwell's money, unemployment benefits, and occasionally doing a few month's work at a Cadbury's factory. Under Halliwell's guidance Orton started reading voraciously. Then they started writing novels together, which because they were way ahead of their time were all rejected by publishers. 

They lived a monastic life, writing and reading all day, spending as little money as possible: they would go to bed when the sun went down to save on electricity. In a sense, they were part of the beat movement that was taking off in the US at the time -- they rejected conventional goals for their life, lived independently and on the margin, and their works openly mocked all the ideals and little hipocrisies of society. During this time they also got into trouble and spent a few months in jail: they amused themselves by sneaking books out of their local library, putting new subversive and very funny dust jackets and flap cover descriptions on them and returning them. They liked to think of the staid Islington burgers when they checked out. However, after some time they were caught and prosecuted for vandalism. That didn't faze Orton much, because as his agent later said: "Jail gives a writer credentials. Everyone else it takes them away."

Example of Orton's and Halliwell's jokes, which cost them jail-time. Ironically, these "vandalized" books are now the most valuable in the Islington public library collection.

Then, Orton started writing on his own. In the early 60s he got a radio play accepted by the BBC, and from then on he steadily climbed towards success and fame. His plays both delighted and shocked the British public and he was hailed as the "Oscar Wilde of the welfare society." His success left Halliwell envious, left out, and depressed, taking more and more pills. Orton started making a lot of money and consorting with celebrities like the Beatles, while Halliwell still hadn't been able to publish a thing.

Halliwell spiraled into severe depression, in the summer of 1967 Orton insisted he see a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist was thinking of recommending that Halliwell go into a psychiatric hospital. Orton had become increasingly promiscuous since his success began and was considering ending the relationship. One night in August after an argument, Halliwell beat Orton's brains out as he slept and then committed suicide with pills. Joe Orton was 34 -- his productive period as a playwright lasted less than 4 years.

Why do I like Joe Orton's plays? Well, first of all he's funny, and has great one-liners Oscar Wilde style. Also, he was probably the best writer of farces of the 20th century -- his plays thrive on anarchy, confusion, and subversion. The farce genre, dating back to the Ancient Greek tradition (for example Sophocles) with which Orton was well familiar, is based on showing the chaos and ridicule of human society. There's something in that that appeals to me, because it reveals a basic fact about the human condition as I see it: we are hypocrites, chaotic, confused, and very ridiculous. We are evolved apes who think because we can handle tools we are made in God's image. Our attempts at dignity are usually self-serving and pompous. As Napoleon said: "there's only a small step from the sublime to the ridiculous".

To those interested in Joe Orton I recommend you start with the great 1987 movie based on his life, with none other than Gary Oldman playing Orton -- the title is "Prick up Your Ears".

I wonder how Orton's life would have turned out if he hadn't died so young. Would he still be making fun of us? Would his craft have gone to still greater heights? Or would he have become comfortable and an establishment figure?

I leave with some quotes I like from "What the Butler Saw", so you'll know what I'm talking about:

"MRS PRENTICE: Have you ever given thought to a male secretary?

DR PRENTICE: A man could never get used to the work.

MRSP: My father had a male secretary. My mother said he was much better than a woman.

DRP: I couldn't ask a young fellow to do overtime and then palm him off with a lipstick or a bottle of Yardley's. It'd be silk suits and Alfa Romeos if I so much as breathed on him.

MRSP: Try a boy for a change. You're a rich man. You can afford the luxuries of life."

"MRSP: (in a surprised tone) What are you doing with that dress?

DRP: (pause) It's an old one of yours.

MRSP: Have you taken up transvestism? I had no idea our marriage teetered on the edge of fashion."

"DRP: It's a fascinating theory, sir, and cleverly put together. Does it tie in with known facts?

DR RANCE: That need not cause us undue anxiety. Civilizations have been founded and maintained on theories which refused to obey facts."

"SERGEANT MATCH: You must realize this boy is bringing a serious charge against you?

DRP: Yes. It's ridiculous. I'm a married man.

SM: Marriage excuses no one from the freaks' roll call."

"DRP: I couldn't commit the act. I'm a heterosexual

DRR: I wish you wouldn't use these Chaucerian words. It's most confusing."

"DRP: I'm not mad. It only looks that way.

DRR: Your actions today would get the Archbishop of Canterbury declared non-compos.

DRP: I'm not the Archbishop of Canterbury.

DRR: That will come at a later stage of your illness."

"DRP: I'm a rationalist.

DRR: You can't be a rationalist in an irrational world. It isn't rational."

"MRSP: (rising, stumbling to the desk) Oh, doctor, during your absence my husband became violent and struck me. (She pours a whisky)

DRR: Did you enjoy it?

MRSP: At first. But the pleasures of the senses quickly pall."

"DRR: I've published a monograph on the subject. I wrote it at University. On the advice of my tutor. A remarkable man. Having failed to achieve madness himself he took to teaching it to others.

DRP: And you were his prize pupil?

DRR: There were some more able than I.

DRP: Where are they now?

DRR: In mental institutions.

DRP: Running them?

DRR: For the most part."

"GERALDINE: I must be a boy. I like girls.

(DR RANCE stops and wrinkles his brow, puzzled)

DRR: I can't quite follow the reasoning there.

DRP: Many men imagine that a preference for women is ipso facto a proof of virility.

DRR: Someone should really write a book on these folk-myths."

"DRP: I want you to co-operate with me in getting things back to normal in this house.

NICK: (soothingly) You can rely on me, sir.

DRP: It would help me considerably if you'd take your clothes off."

Douchebag of the Month

This is a little monthly feature dedicated to highlighting some of the people I despise. I have opted for "Douchebag" as the insult because it seems to be quite trendy at the moment; and according to what I read it is associated to a variety of negative personality characteristics ranging from arrogance to malice and to stupidity. I have also chosen to make this a monthly feature because there are just too many douchebags. If I allowed myself it might well be a thrice-daily feature.

I am happy to say our first winner scores high on all of the 3 douchebag traits listed above: Wolfgang Schussel, chancellor of Austria from 2000 to 2007.

 

Can you spot the difference?

Now he is the parliamentary leader of the OVP, the Conservative Party in Austria. What has earned him this coveted award of "Douchebag of the Month"? 

Well, right now the 2 parties in the currently governing coalition, the Conservative OVP and the social-democratic SPO, are discussing the introduction of gay civil unions. About time too, since Austria is now one of the few countries in Western Europe without that basic right for gay citizens. They have discarded the option of gay marriage, and now having discussions on what form the union would take. A significant portion of the Conservative party seemed ready to give way to the more liberal SPO and have a full-fledged civil union like there is in Germany or Switzerland.

Never fear -- enter DB Schussel at the head of the traditionalist wing of the OVP: they say they will support the civil unions, but that gay couples shouldn't be able to tie the knot at city hall like straight couples marrying civilly. Instead, they say, gay couples should pay a private lawyer to formalize their union, making it more akin to a commercial transaction than to a union between 2 human beings.

Now, I am not of those fanatic activists that shouts "Marriage or Nothing!" In fact, I am rather happy to have gay unions not called marriage, given the fact that as an institution marriage has had some unsavory aspects in the past. It used to serve to transmit women as property from father to husband, and so on. So, I am quite content with something that gives me all the rights of marriage without all the historical baggage and implications of the name.

However, I don't like being treated like a second-rate citizen and human being, and that is exactly what this measure by Schussel seeks to achieve. Besides the symbolism of having to slink off to a lawyer's office instead of being able tie the knot publicly in a government building as a citizen -- there is also the question of money: Thanks, but I don't really want to pay 5 times more to a lawyer to formalize my union than a hetero couple pays at city hall. 

There is something so petty and mendacious about this measure that I can't even put it into words. Why do the fuck do you care? What does it achieve, besides being one last bull-shit scented taunt at 4% of the population? I know Austria is a pretty well run country and has a good economy, but surely there must have been something else -- education, health care, immigrant integration, crime, environment, energy policy, picking out the toilet paper brand for use in the Parliament's bathrooms -- that would have been more vital to discuss for days in Parliament.

There is something nauseating about such pointless malevolence, especially when it disguises itself as a preoccupation with values.

Karajan's 100

It was exactly 100 years since Herbert von Karajan's birth yesterday (he died in 1989). His legacy is still quite controversial in some quarters. Norman Lebrecht, whose opinions on classical music I don't always agree with, offers a good overview of why Karajan's centenary shouldn't be heartily celebrated.

To that I would add my 2 cents: I agree with Lebrecht that Karajan was a huge egomaniac. I would also agree that his pervasive power over the classical music industry helped promote excessive conservatism and commercialism. I think he recorded way too much repertoire, a lot of which he wasn't suited to. But like a lot of egomaniacs, in their unflagging devotion to making themselves the ones at the top of the pile, he could be very good at what he did. His preoccupation with a very beautiful and smooth sound from his orchestra became at times a bit grotesque in later years. There are still some recordings of his that I own and enjoy, though: his Mahler 5th, his 1963 Beethoven cycle, and his Mozart Requiem from the 1980s.

And here I am at Karajan ground zero: I live in Salzburg, Austria, where he was born, where he reigned for decades as the main conductor and promoter of the famous Salzburg festival, and where he often lived. His widow still lives here and is an essential part of the jet-set circle. I frequently pass by the mansion where he was born and which has a pretentious statue of him out front.

The question a lot of people think is most important is "Was he a Nazi?" As I said I think he was mainly an egomaniac. I find it hard to believe he was a devoted Nazi since he married his first wife, who was half Jewish, in 1942, and had to endure falling from grace with the regime at the time. He probably became a party member in 1933 for the one reason that propelled him: his career and his advancement. Maybe he wasn't a Nazi, but he sure wasn't a man of conscience or much concern for others.

In the end, I would like to think he paid a price for his self-centeredness and his errors -- in some of the interviews I saw with him, he always seemed oddly unsatisfied, always pushed for better, for more power. That is the price a lot of egomaniacs pay -- you can never have too much money, or influence, or power, or fame. That unquenchable thirst must not be easy to bear and at the end... is always a feeling of failure.

So, don't count on me showing up at any of the fancy Karajan celebrations (I didn't get an invite anyway) or buying any of the super-slick anniversary celebration disk sets that the disk companies are going to churn out compulsively. But I might still play one of his recordings once in a while.

Karajan in his element: absolute power over orchestra and moneyed audience

Crispy Quote of the Day

"I'm tired of all this nonsense about beauty being only skin-deep. That's deep enough. What do you want -- an adorable pancreas?"

-- Jean Kerr

I say, that one is awfully cute...

Variations on a View

Before I moved to Salzburg 6 months ago, I had never had a really good view. As you can see the view from my studio's window here is nothing to be sniffed at. In the distance there's the Geisberg, a mountain that's about 1800m high. 

As I lived day-to-day with this magnificent panorama I began to be captivated by its various appearances. It's incredible how the play of light, fog, rain, clouds, time of day, season, and snow can give it so many faces. And these atmospheric conditions are never exactly the same -- I am always seeing another facet of the view when a novel light strikes and reveals new colors.

I started photographing it at all times and in all weathers. I was then reminded of Cezanne's continuous re-painting of the same view of Mt. St. Victoire. No intent to even associate my name to his, but my fascination is of the same kind as his was. My results are nowhere as good, but I hope you still enjoy these photos as much as I do.

Fucking Unbelievable!

I was alerted to this by my friend Colin... who has never been to Austria. Upon interrogation my boyfriend confessed he knew about this too -- I should have been informed, this is too funny not to be shared. Here I am living only about 40 km from the great town of Fucking (pop. 93) and I was never told: 

This must not be very fun for the poor inhabitants. The authors of the above article did not even get the country right in the title -- they were not content to affront the name of these people's village, they had to step on their national pride as well. Outrageous. By the way, what would an inhabitant of Fucking be called? A fucker?

At the top is photo of a sign in the town. Under the town's name there's a sign urging drivers to slow down in the school area. It thus reads "Fucking. Please not so fast."

Crispy Quote of the Day

"If you think you have it tough, read history books."

-- Bill Maher

The Hills are Alive

Pic 1: According to the sign this doorway has existed since 800 AD; people were really a lot shorter back then, since the door only comes up to slightly above my belly-button and I am only average height. This is on the outskirts of Salzburg in a place called Gnigl. Amazing to think this doorway is still being used today.
I am always amazed at how clouds can look like abstract paintings. Kandinsky couldn't do any better.
A traditional Austrian house in the country a few kilometers from Salzburg, with the worked wood and the oh-so-catholic Christ up top. I forgot to straighten this picture, and now I'm too lazy to go back and do it.
Snow peaked mountains -- there are lots of them around Salzburg.
Last pic: This was a house I spotted right at the edge of town, before you get into the country. I thought it was interesting and a bit funny how the owners had added an ultra-modern wing to the super-traditional main body of their house on the left (notice the woodwork and the deer antlers up on top). The contrast looks kind of cool though.

The last few days have been sunny and mild here in Salzburg. The winter was pretty nasty, so I was out taking some walks in nature in the blink of an eye. I am not crazy about Salzburg after 6 months here -- it is very beautiful and it has a good quality of life, but I am used to larger cities. This just feels a bit tiny to me. 

But one thing has to be said for living here: the natural beauty of the region is splendid, and it's easy to get out of the city on foot and go on some wonderful walks. 

The above photos were taken on those treks.

Crispy Quote of the Day

"Why is it that when it's us it's an abortion, but when it's a chicken it's an omelet?"

-- George Carlin

Das kann nicht toleriert werden!

This weekend I watched "Mein Führer", the new German comedy about Hitler. As you might expect, the fact that a director decided to make a comedy on this subject has gotten a lot of knickers in a twist.

The movie has been hammered by critics in Germany, and a bit ignored abroad. Since the director is Jewish and his mother a Holocaust survivor the critics weren't able to attack his integrity, so they went after the movie itself. The main charges were: it's not funny; the director could not decide on one tone, and the movie hovers between farce, slapstick, and drama.

The scenario of the movie is pregnant with possibilities: It's December 1944, the war is starting to go seriously wrong for Germany; Berlin is heavily bombed. Hitler is depressed. Goebbels decides to orchestrate a great New Year's rally and speech by Hitler to motivate the people into what he terms "total war". To prepare the desmotivated Hitler for the speech, he sends for Adolf Grünbaum, a Jewish actor who used to be famous and is now in a concentration camp.

The fact is the movie is not a work of genius and there are jokes that simply never take off. For example, the portrayal of Hitler's impotence when trying to boink Eva Braun isn't very effective. But there are plenty of funny moments: Himmler has had his shoulder broken during a visit to the front and so his arm is on a propped cast, which makes it seem that he is permanently Heil Hitlering; Goebbels giving oral sex to his secretary under the desk, and as he receives a visitor unexpectedly, picking out a pubic hair from his tongue, after packing off the secretary. There is just something inherently funny and subversive about Goebbels and pubic hair.

The accusation that the movie seems not to settle on one tone is true. There are in fact two parts to the film: the parts relating to the Nazis are usually purely humorous, while the parts relating to the plight of Adolf Grünbaum, the main character, are more dramatic in nature. The movie doesn't soft-pedal the plight of being a Jew in 1944 Germany: at the beginning of the movie there's a scene where Grunbaum is taken to the showers prior to being taken to Berlin. The look of fear as Grunbaum awaits what he believes is the gas that will kill him, and the expression of relief when the shower head emits not gas but water are very real. Also affecting is the later scene when Grunbaum, who has demanded that everyone in his concentration camp is released in return for his coaching Hitler, speaks to a fellow inmate to confirm that the Nazis have indeed let the inmates go. We get to see his friend, who looks like he was roughed up and is being threatened with a gun by a SS officer, lie to him under duress and reassure him everyone is mad with joy at having been let go.

Nonetheless, the movie is particularly successful when the humorous tone adopted with the Nazi bigwigs is mingled with the drama of the horror of the situation of Grunbaum and his loved ones. For example, when Hitler during a coaching session with Grunbaum starts taunting him with boxing jabs and with musings of why Jews don't do sport and are weak -- Grunbaum, in a blink  of an eye, lets out an uncontrollable right jab that KOs Hitler.  In the situation that ensues Grunbaum realizes what he did and panics about the room, dragging Hitler and placing his feet on a chair, answering the door when the guards knock asking if everything's OK and replying with a nervous smile that the Fuhrer is doing some relaxation exercises -- that situation is successful in melding the ridiculous and the dramatic. On one level it's a funny idea that a small Jewish man has just knocked Hitler to the ground, but on the other level we are aware behind the farce that ensues, that at the same time Grunbaum is probably doomed for what he has done.

Ultimately, the main objection to the movie is that it excuses Hitler too much: he comes out as a rather pathetic figure, a bed-wetter, insecure, scarred by his father's constant disdain and abuse towards him, and as not really in charge. He even develops a liking for and dependence on Grunbaum. I do think Levy, the director, does soft-pedal Hitler a bit too much, especially in comparison to the other Nazi bigwigs.

Finally, if nothing else the film is successful in one thing: all these critics have said that we must remember what Hitler did and the horrors of the Holocaust; the purpose of this is to prevent this from ever happening again. Well, this portrait of Hitler as impotent, indecisive, and a bed-wetter is guaranteed not to excite any misguided youths into neo-nazism. What feeds neo-nazism are exactly the portrayals of Hitler as a personification of implacable power and extremism. 

I think this is just another step in dealing with Hitler's legacy. Another movie that recently also caused a similar controversy was Downfall, an excellent (dramatic) movie about the last days of Hitler's life. In the movie Hitler was accurately portrayed as he was: a ranting megalomaniac, with no concern for the deaths of millions in his ego-building wars, but also someone who was exceptionally considerate and humane with his young secretary and other people close to him. That Hitler wasn't a total rabid monster every moment of his life, that he could be humane, only makes it more urgent that we consider how a human being seemingly so normal in some circumstances could be so hate-filled and monstrous in others -- it makes it more thought-provoking and challenging, and is not simply a diabolical caricature of Hitler that excuses any serious thought.

In closing, to the holier-than-thou critics -- hey, your attitude in telling people what they can and can't laugh about is faintly... uhhh, what's the word... oh, Hitleresque.  

Crispy Quote of the Day

"Somewhere out in this audience may even be someone who will one day follow in my footsteps, and preside over the White House as the President's spouse. I wish him well!"
-- Barbara Bush

Sanity Maintenance Mechanisms

Many of us need something that enables us to keep ourselves out of Bellevue. These are things that not only make life seem worth living, but things that sooth us, and put life's little hand-wringing frustrations in perspective. Sviatoslav Richter, one of the greatest musicians of the last century, put it well when he said: "One should listen to Bach regularly, if only for mental hygiene."
Bach is for me one these sure fire mechanisms to keep it together. At his best his music is both
calming and invigorating. There is in it something both very like a life-force and impersonal --
like a running brook.
Listen to Glenn Gould (who although he played and listened to Bach every day, was still slightly insane) play the aria from the Goldberg variations, and see if you understand what I mean:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gv94m_S3QDo

Another Confession

I confessed that I like men and classical music, two unusual tastes so far.

I must confess that I am also a chocoholic. Well, not really a chocolic because I keep my cravings under control and I am thin. But anyway, as Ron White once said: "I am not an alcoholic. Alcoholics go to meetings, I'm just a drunk."

As this is a predilection a lot of people share, and that within limits doesn't make you beat your wife, there are no Twelve-steppers on this one yet -- and I hope there will never be. It's already annoying enough hearing about these ex-gays. I don't want to start hearing whiny men and women with a glazed look in their eyes doing commercials on how they renounced chocolate through the power of Jesus.

A new chocolate maker that has come to my attention is Zotter, an Austrian brand.

Joseph Zotter is an ex-patisserie chef who started a hand-made chocolate company after going bankrupt in his last venture.

Less than 9 years after starting this venture, though, he's pulling in big bucks.

What's he got new? He has reportedly developed a method called hand-scooping, that allows several layers of flavors to be superimposed, and later tasted effectively.

The other novelty is that he likes to create chocolate bars with some crazy flavors, such as:

- Banana Curry - Almonds and Roses - Bacon bits - Beetroot with galangal

- Cashew and Pineapple - Dates and Shiitake - Lemon and Polenta - Gruner Veltliner wine and Pepper - Tofu and Sake

I have tried about 10 of the dozens of flavors. Obviously with such experimenting, not all of them are complete successes, but many are winning combinations and a treat.

Also, Zotter's is one of the few chocolate companies that is not only organic but fair trade.

Add to that the funky illustrations done for each flavor by an Austrian artist and you've got a really interesting product.

They sell only at selected retailers and the prices that I have seen tend to be around 3 euros a bar.

Give it a try -- and no I am not getting any money from them. Though, if anyone from Zotter does read this, please note that I can bribed with some of your chocolate.

Photo to the left: Mr. Zotter applies Woody Allen's advice about sex to chocolate -- "If it isn't dirty, you are not doing it right"

A very thoughtful article on gay identity -- and where it's headed -- by Andrew Sullivan

http://www.tnr.com/politics/story.html?id=cac6ca08-7df8-4cdd-93cc-1d20cd8b7a70

Cripy Quote of the Day

I just realized a lot of the posts have the same dates, apparently because I have been forgetting to sign out. To compensate you for these technical problems would you accept an extra crispy quote as a complementary offer from our company?

"If you haven't got anything good to say about anyone come and sit by me."
-- Alice Roosevelt Longworth (maxim embroidered on a cushion in her home)

Crispy Quote of the Day

"I think I'll retire. Lick my wounds. Or have them licked for me."
-- Joe Orton

Crispy Quote of the Day

"In 1969 I published a small book on Humility. It was a pioneering work which has not, to my knowledge, been superseded."
Lord Longford

Poulenc -- graceful and deep

One of the supposedly second-tier composers that I like is Francis Poulenc.
His music was always pleasant and witty, but in his later years it also acquired a melancholy depth.
He was one of the first openly gay composers, despite being strongly catholic as well.
He lived and composed into the 1960s and his beautiful yet meaningful music is a real reproach to the avant-garde generation of European composers of that time -- who have churned out unlistenable and posing music that has accounted for a lot of the image problems that classical music has today.
Anyway, to me he shines brighter in his chamber music compositions. Take a listen to the second movement of his clarinet sonata. Autumnal would be the word to describe it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MRk0OhP_AAs&feature=related

Crispy Quote of the Day

"We have all heard that a million monkeys banging on a million typewriters will eventually reproduce the entire works of Shakespeare. Now, thanks to the Internet, we know this is not true."
-- Robert Wilensky