Friday, March 29 2019

I wake up with an unpleasant feeling - I recall that in a weak moment I agreed to buy tickets for a concert taking place tonight in Lois's former church building, which has now been converted into an art gallery. I like concerts, but I don't like going to them, especially in the evening, in the middle of the town, and having to find a nearby parking lot in the dark and all that.

I expect I will like the experience as soon as the concert begins, but right now I have only one thought, ie how much cosier it would be to spend the evening with my feet stuck up in front of the tv - I have already drawn circles about the programmes I’ve chosen, in the Radio Times magazine, the old crow that I am.

Meanwhile, the prospect of going out tonight is going to overshadow my whole day, which is a bit of a shame - damn! It is crucial that I somehow learn to confront my phobia about being out of the house in the evening in the company of strangers - though it may be that it's a little too late for that, after 73 years.

"In the company of strangers" - a nice expression, although Paul Simon has already patented it in "The Boxer".

When I left my home and my family

I was no more than a boy

In the company of strangers

In the quiet of the railway station

Running scared.

I hope I don't have to pay Paul Simon sixpence to use the phrase, but I’m going to let that one slide. If I keep a low profile maybe Paul won't notice it.

It helps with all my phobias, if I remember the insignificance of my life, compared to the long history of the earth - reserachers in Mexico have just excavated the fossils of piles of fish and other animals that died when the meteorite hit 66 million years ago and wiped out the dinosaurs. 

It appears that these fossilised fish died very quickly after the meteorite hit, due to an almost immediate local earthquake and mini-tsunami (or "seiche"), and not because of the huge tsunami that arrived several hours later, which is interesting. Poor fish, anyway, I don’t suppose they minded too much whether it was a tsunami or a seiche that got them, the poor things.

piles of fossilised fish that died almost immediately after that

meteorite hit the earth 66 million years ago - poor fish !!!!

10:00 I can't concentrate. I order extra copies of our most iconic family photos to put in frames.

flashback to February: our younger daughter Sarah's 5-year-old twin daughters,

Lily (left) and Jessie, in their new school uniforms on the balcony of their house

in Ocean Reef, Perth: the Indian Ocean can be seen in the background

a charming photo of Alison, our elder daughter with Ed and their 3 children

on an exciting day out to London (Wembley Stadium) where they arrived early

to watch the Spurs team’s football match against Leicester City (February 2019)

flashback to April 2018: me (left) at a beach café in the Margaret River region,

Western Australia, along with Francis, Sarah, and the twins

I jump on my exercise bike and ride 6 miles (10 km). Meanwhile, Lois takes a short walk on the local football field. Her digestive problem has disappeared, thank goodness.

12:00 We have lunch and afterwards I go to bed and take a gigantic afternoon nap. I get up at 3:30 pm and start looking at the 9th episode  of the Danish TV drama series, "Ride Upon The Storm", starring the famous Danish actor Lars Mikkelsen, as Johannes, a provost (Lutheran archdeacon) with problems - to put it mildly. First of all, an alcohol dependency, also a tendency to have affairs with his church workers.

Johannes, a priest with an alcohol dependency,

as well as a lot of other issues - yikes!

Johannes is a leading "provost" or archdeacon in the Danish Lutheran national church. The series revolves around Johannes’s personality, as a very dominant figure, both within the churches he is responsible for and within his own family. He dominates everything, and he tends to have a tantrum when he doesn't get his way.

He loves his wife (Elisabeth) and their 2 sons (Christian and August), but at the same time as loving them, he dominates and crushes them all the time. Elisabeth, Christian and August are afraid of him, love him and hate him, all at the same time.

Johannes has alienated all 3 of them to a greater or lesser extent. And his wife Elisabeth has taken a Norwegian mistress, the lovely violinist Liv, and the two have moved in with each other.

Elisabeth on a camping trip with her Norwegian mistress, Liv, a lovely violinist

Christian has converted to Buddhism, and has released a bestseller about his spiritual rebirth, describing his childhood and his difficult and often violent relationship with his father. His literary agent, Amira, has advertised the book by putting a lot of emphasis on Christian's difficult relationship with his father, because Johannes, Christian's father, is a well-known figure in Copenhagen society, which will help sell the book.

Christian with his lovely Lebanese literary agent, Amira

August, also a priest but in another parish, has resigned and become a “street priest” - he tries to help young people overcome problems with alcohol, drugs, etc. August becomes involved with two brothers, illegal immigrants from the Middle East, whom the police are looking for because of a possible connection with terrorists. August has just let the younger brother, Hakim, move into his apartment, so that Emilie, August's doctor's doctor, can treat him away from the police surveillance - which Emilie is not very happy about, to put it mildly.

In this 9th episode  (or in the first 60% of it, which is all I have time to see), Johannes's wife, Elisabeth, finds out that her mistress, Liv, the beautiful Norwegian violinist, has just landed a top job in Berlin - she invites Elisabeth to move in with her in Berlin, but Elisabeth is in a dilemma: she feels that her husband Johannes and their 2 sons, August and Christian, are all going through difficult times at the moment  and that they need her support.

Christian's ex-girlfriend Nanna pops up out of the blue. Christian tells her that he has now become a different and more spiritual man since his conversion to Buddhism on holiday in Nepal. But I suspect that when I turn off the tv in the middle of the program, the couple are just about to start having sex again. Loud thuds as some of Christian's New Year's resolutions come crashing to the ground there - ha ha ha!

August's flashback visions from his time in a war zone have come back again, and his wife Emilie is feeling desperate. She calls her husband's psychiatrist to ask for urgent help.

Yikes, what a family !!!!

16:00 Lois and I relax in the living room with a cup of tea and a couple of biscuits. We listen a little to the radio, an interesting programme in the series "The Last Word". Lois and I have got into the habit of hearing this program every week, because we want to find out if anyone in the past 1-4 weeks has died or not (I have noticed that most weeks there are only about 4 or 5 deaths, which is comforting, to put it mildly). The programme host is the charming Matthew Bannister.

Rose Hilton recently died, sadly, at the age of 87. She was the last survivor of the famous group of modern artists who gathered in St Ives and nearby Cornish harbour towns in the 1960’s. Rose put her own career on hold to support her husband, Roger Hilton, and bring up their children, but she gained recognition in her own right after his death.

Roger and Rose Hilton and their children

The respected art critic Ian Collins became her close friend - he used to visit her at home in her cottage in Cornwall and he also once modelled for her, stark naked - most of Rose's models were in fact naked, but most of them were women. Collins was one of her few male models – she persuaded him on one visit to get naked in her studio telling him, "Thank you, that's so good of you. The last man who took off his clothes for me in my studio was the man who came to read the electricity meter." 

My god, what madness !!!!

That was the mark of her charm, Collins says. She could charm the birds from the trees, also the clothes from an electricity man.

Rose was born in Kent to a religious family - her parents were Plymouth brethren. Her parents disapproved of her interest in art (only biblical illustrations were allowed among sect members) and they did not believe that daughters needed a career. "My daughters do not leave my home until they get married”,  her father told her.

But Rose painted secretly. And she applied to study at the Royal College of Art in London – although when her parents found out they barred her from their house. Rose got TB after her first year at the college and she was sent to a sanatorium. Her mother visited her and told her that the tuberculosis was God's punishment, which seems a little harsh to put it mildly, but I’m going to let that one slide.

Rose had a small apartment in Chelsea, London in the 1950's, and lived the so-called swinging 60’s life 10 years earlier than everybody else.  She was beautiful, glamorous, and looked like a model, says Collins. She went to bed with Roger and when they later married, they moved to a cottage in Cornwall. He laid down only one rule for their marriage,which was that he had to be the only painter in it. Good grief, poor Rose !!!!!

Roger's artistic style had in the past been austere, says Collins, but with Rose in his life, his paintings became at once much more colourful - and figurative.

His most famous painting "Oi yoi yoi" (1963) showcases Rose dancing naked. It was inspired by an incident when they were in France in a hotel bedroom having a fight. She eventually broke the tension by stripping off and performing a wild dance on the hotel balcony. Roger burst out laughing as she expected, but what they didn't know was that there was a haystack in the field below, that was on fire, and her performance on the balcony was distracting the local fire-fighters from their efforts to extinguish it.

My goodness, what a crazy world we live in !!!!!

Roger Hilton’s “Oi yoi yoi”

17:30 We have dinner a little earlier than usual. At 7 pm we drive into town and park the car with no problem. We walk about approx. 200 yards to Lois' former church, now a small art gallery, where this evening's harpsichord concert is taking place. The soloist is Satoko Doi-Luck, and her concert is made up of works by Bach and various Baroque composers.

It is strange that I have been dreading  all day having to go out tonight, but as soon as I sit down and the concert begins, I suddenly feel very comfortable as I listen to the calming sounds of 350 years ago. 

And during the break, I make witty comments as we chat with our friends Mari-Ann and Alf, who also bought tickets. And when I find myself alone with the soloist in the art gallery's unisex toilets, washing hands side by side, I chat to her as if we have known each other all our lives, which is nice, and which isn’t like me at all, to put it mildly.

It may be that the idea is that a bunch of fish died 60 million years ago whilst I have only been alive for a totally insignificant 73 years, has given me extra self-confidence this evening, but that’s something I am not 100% sure about - the jury is still out on that one.

21:30 The concert ends, and Lois and I drive home and go to bed. I read about 20 pages of my Danish bedtime book "Two Brothers" before I drift off to sleep - zzzzzzzzzzz !!!!

Danish translation

Jeg vågner med en ubehagelig følelse – jeg mindes om, at jeg i et svagt øjeblik aftalte at købe billetter til en koncert, der finder sted i aften i Lois’ gamle kirke, der nu er omdannet til en kunstgalleri. Jeg kan lide koncerter, men jeg kan ikke lide dét, at gå til dem, i sær om aftenen, midt i byen, og at finde en nærliggende parkeringsplads i mørket og den slags.

Jeg forventer, jeg skal lide oplevelsen, så snart koncerten begynder, men lige nu har jeg kun en tanke, dvs, hvor meget hyggeligt det ville have været at bruge aftenen med benene smækket op foran fjernsynet – jeg har allerede tegnet cirkler om de programmer, jeg har valgt, i Radio Times-tidsskriftet, som den gamle krage, jeg er – yikes!

I mellemtiden vil den udsigt til, at skulle ud i aften, skal overskygge hele min dag, hvilket er lidt af en skam – pokkers! Det er afgørende, at jeg på en eller anden måde lære at overkomme min phobi om at være ude af huset i selskabet af fremmede – selvom det kan være, det er lidt for sent efter 73 år  - yikes!!!!

”I selskabet af fremmede” – et godt udtryk, selvom Paul Simon allerede har patenteret det i ”The Boxer”.

When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station
Running scared.

Jeg håber på, at jeg ikke er nødt til at betale Paul Simon sixpence for at bruge udtrykket, men det springer jeg over. Jeg må holde lav profil, og det kan være, at Paul ikke vil bemærke det ha ha.

Det hjælper med alle mine fobier, hvis jeg mindes om min ubetydelighed i sammenligning med jordens lange historie – forskere i Mexico har udgravet fossiler af bunkevis af fisk og andre dyre, der døde, da meteoritten for 66 millioner år siden ramte jorden og tilintetgjorde dinosaurerene. Det lader til, at disse fossilerede fisk døde snart efter meteoritten ramte på grund af et næsten umiddelbart lokalt jordskælv og mini-tsunami (eller ”seiche”), og ikke på grund af den kæmpe tsunami, der ankom flere timer senere, hvilket er interessant. Stakkels fisk !!!!!

bunkevis af fisk, der døde næsten umiddelbart efter,

meteoritten ramte jorden for 66 millioner år siden – stakkels fisk !!!!

10:00  Jeg kan ikke koncentrere mig. Jeg bestiller ekstra eksemplarer af vores mest ikoniske familiefotoer, for at sætte i rammer.

tilbageblik til februar: vores yngste datter Sarahs 5-årige tvillingedøtre, Lily (til venstre) og Jessie,

i deres nye skoleuniformer på altanen af deres hus i Ocean Reef, Perth:

det Indiske Ocean kan ses i baggrunden

et charmerende foto af Alison, vores ældste datter sammen med Ed og deres 3 børn

en spændende dag i London (Wembley Stadium), hvor de ankom tildligt

for at se Spurs-holdets fodboldkamp mod Leicester City (februar 2019)

tilbageblik til april 2018: mig (til venstre) på en strandcafé i Margaret River-regionen,

Western Australia, sammen med Francis, Sarah, og tvillingerne

Jeg hopper op på kondicykel og cykler 6 miles (10 km). I mellemtiden går Lois en kort gåtur på den lokale fodboldbane. Jeg hopper op på kondicykel og cykler 6 miles (10 km). I mellemtiden går Lois en kort tur på den lokale fodboldbane. Hendes fordøjelsesproblem er forsvundet, gudskelov.

12:00 Vi  spiser frokost og bagefter går jeg i seng for at tage en gigantisk eftermiddagslur. Jeg står op kl 15:30 og går i gang med at se 60% af den 9. afsnit af den danske tv-serie, ”Ride Upon The Storm”, stjernespækket den berømte danske skuespiller Lars Mikkelsen, som Johannes, en provst med problemer – for at sige mildt. Først og fremmest en alkoholafhængighed, og en tendens til at have affære.

Johannes, en præst med en alkoholafhængighed,

samt en masse andre problemer – yikes!

Johannes er en førende ”provst” eller ærkediakon i Danmarks  lutheranske folkekirke. Serien kredser om Johannes personlighed, som en meget dominerende figur, både i de kirker, han er ansvarlig for, og i sin egen familie. Han dominerer alting, og han har tendens til at have et raserianfald, når han ikke får sin vilje.

Han elsker sin kone (Elisabeth) og sine 2 sønner (Christian og August), men samtidig med, at han elsker dem, dominerer han og kvaser dem alle. Elisabeth, Christian og August er bange for ham, elsker ham og hader ham, alt på samme tid.

Johannes har fremmedgjort dem alle 3 i større eller mindre grad. Hans kone Elizabeth har taget en norsk elskerinde, den dejlig violinist Liv. Elizabeth og Liv flyttede ind med hinanden.

Elizabeth på campingtur med sin norske elskerinde, Liv, en dejlig violinist

Christian har konverteret til buddhisme, og har udgivet en bestseller, der handler om sin åndelige genfødsel, hvori han har beskrivet sin barndom og sit vanskelige og ofte voldelige forhold til sin far. Hans litterære agent, Amira, har reklameret for bogen ved af sætte stor fokus på Christians vanskelig forhold til hans far, fordi Johannes, Christians far, er en velkendt figur i det københavnske samfund.

r4 Christian med sin dejlige libanesiske litterære agent, Amira

August, en præst i et andet sogn, har siget op og blevet til gadepræst – han prøver at hjælpe unge mennesker om at overkomme deres problemer med alkohol, stoffer osv. August bliver

involveret med to brødre, ulovlige indvandrere fra Mellemøsten, som politiet efterlyser på grund af deres forbindelser med terrorister. August har lige ladt den yngre bror, Hakim, flytte ind i sin lejlighed, så Emilie, Augusts kone, der er læge, kan behandle ham – hvilket Emilie er ikke ret glad for, for at sige mildt.

I dette 9. afsnit (eller i det første 60% af det, som er hvad jeg har tid til at se), Johannes kone, Elisabeth finder ud af, at hendes elskerinde,  Liv, den smukke norske violinist, har fået et job i Berlin – hun inviterer Elisabeth at flytte ind med hende i Berlin, men Elisabeth er i et dilemma: hun føler, at hendes præst-ægtemand Johannes og hendes 2 sønner, August og Christian, alle går igennem vanskelige tider or har brug for hendes støtte.

Christians eks-kæreste Nanna dukker op ud af det blå. Christian fortæller hende, at han nu er blevet en anderledes og mere åndelig mand, siden hans konvertering til buddhismen på ferie i Nepal. Men jeg mistænker, at da jeg slukker for fjernsynet midt i programmet, er parret lige ved at have sex igen efter. Høje lyde af nogle nyårsbeslutninger, der ramler til jorden dér  ha ha ha!

Augusts flashback-visioner er kommet tilbage, og hans kone Emilie bliver desperat og ringer til hans psykiater for at bede om hjælp.

Yikes, sikke en familie!!!!

16:00 Lois og jeg slapper af i stuen med en kop te og et par kiks. Vi lytter lidt til radio, et interessant program i serien ”Det sidste ord”. Lois og jeg er kommet i vane med at høre dette program hver uge, fordi vi ønsker at finde ud af, om nogen i de seneste 1-4 uger døde eller ej (jeg har bemærket, at der i de fleste uger kun sker 4-5 dødsfald, hvilket er lidt trøstende, for at sige mildt). Programmets vært er den charmerende Matthew Bannister.

Rose Hilton døde for nylig desværre, på 87 år. Hun var den sidste overlevende af den anerkendte gruppe af moderne kunstnere, der samlede sig i St Ives og nærliggende havnebyer i Cornwall i 1960'erne. Rose satte sin egen karriere på vågeblus for at støtte sin mand Roger Hilton, men opnåede anerkendelse i sin egen ret efter hans død.

Roger og Rose Hilton og deres børn

Den respekterede kunstkritiker Ian Collins blev hendes tætte ven - han besøgte hende derhjemme i sit feriehus og modellerede også for hende: han var splitternøgen - de fleste af hendes modeller var nøgne, men de fleste var kvinder. Collins var en af ​​hendes få mandlige modeller - han var nøgen i Rose’ studie, og hun sagde til ham, ”Det er så godt af dig. Den sidste mand, der tog sit tøj af for mig i mit studie var den mand, der kom til at læse elmåler-læseren.”  

Du godeste, sikke et vanvid !!!!

Det der var beviserne for hendes charme, siger Collins. Hun kunne have charmet fuglene fra træerne, også tøjet af elmåler-læseren.

Rose blev født i Kent til en religiøs familie – hendes forældre var Plymmouth-brødrer. Hendes forældre misbilligede hendes interesse for kunst (kun bibelske illustrationer blev tilladt blandt sektmedlemmer), og troede ikke, at døtre havde brug for en karriere.”Mine døtre forlader ikke mit hjem, indtil de gifter sig - sagde hendes far.

Men Rose malede i hemmeligheden. Og hun ansøgte om at læse hos Royal College of Art i London - da hendes forældre fandt ud af det, at bortviste de hende fra huset. Rose fik TB efter hendes første år på colleget og hun blev indlagt på et sanatorium. Hendes mor besøgte hende og fortalte hende, at tuberkulosen var Guds straf, hvilket virker lidt skarpt for at sige mildt!

Rose havde en lille lejlighed i Chelsea, London i 1950'erne, og levede de såkaldte svingende 60’er 10 år i forvejen. Hun var smuk, glamourøs, og så ud som en model, siger Collins. Hun gik i seng med Roger og da de senere giftede sig, flyttede de til et sommerhus i Cornwall. Han fastsatte kun én regel til deres ægteskab, at han måtte være den eneste maler i ægteskabet. Du godeste, stakkels Rose!!!!!

Rogers kunstneriske stil havde før i tiden været austrer, siger Collins, men med Rose i sit liv blev hans malerier meget mere farverige - og figurative.

Hans mest berømte maleri "Oi yoi yoi" (1963) fremviser Rose i gang med at danse nøgen. Det blev inspireret af en hændelse, da de var i Frankrig på et hotel, og de kom i skænderi. Hun brød spændingen ved at smide tøjet og opføre en vild dans på altanen. Han slå en latter op, som hun forventede, men hvad hun ikke vidste var, at en høstak i marken nedenunder var i brand, og hendes præstation distraherede det lokale brandkorps fra deres indsatser for at slukke det.

Du godeste, sikke en skør verden vi lever i !!!!!

Roger Hilton’s “Oi yoi yoi” (1963)

17:30 Vi spiser aftensmad, lidt tidligere, end normalt. Kl 19 kører vi ind i byen og parkere bilen uden besvær. Vi går hen ca. 200m til Lois’ tidligere kirke, nu et lille kunstgalleri, hvor aftenens kembalo-koncert finder sted. Solisten er Satoko Doi-Luck, og koncerten består af værker af Bach og forskellige barokke komponister.

ConcertPoster

ConcertSoloist

Det er mærkeligt, at jeg hele dagen har ræddes for at skulle ud i aften, men så snart jeg sætter mig ned, og koncerten begynder, føler jeg pludselig meget meget tryg, som jeg lytter til kembaloens beroligende lyde fra 350 år siden. I pausen laver jeg vittige kommentarer, mens vi snakker med vores venner Mari-Ann og Alf, der også købte billetter. Og da jeg finder mig selv alene i kunstgalleriets unisextoiletter, i gang med at vaske hænderne side om side med aftenens charmerende asiatiske solist, snakker jeg med hende, som om vi har kendt hinanden hele vores liv, hvilket er rart, og ligner mig ikke, for at sige mildt.

Det kan være, at det må være tanken om, at en flok fisk døde for 60 millioner år siden og jeg kun har været i live i 73 år, der har givet mig ekstra selvtillid i aften, men det er jeg ikke helt sikker på – juryen er stadig ude om det.

21:30 Koncerten slutter, og Lois og jeg kører hjem og går i seng. Jeg læser ca 20 sider af min danske sengetidbog ”To Brødre”, før jeg glider over i søvnen – zzzzzzzzzzz!!!!