Midsummer Night's Dream

We went to see Midsummer Night's Dream at the Sydney Theatre tonight. A friend bought the tickets, we were just told it was Midsummer Night's Dream. I really should have found something more out about the performance.

I like fairly challenging books: I believe that the reader should occasionally be made to work for it. I love Pynchon and I enjoy Woolf. I am a huge fan of Shakespeare and I've enjoyed pretty much every production I've seen, even when I didn't know the play, both traditional and modern interpretations.

We left this play at intermission, along with a pretty significant proportion of the audience. I have never done that before. I won't even walk out of a bad movie.

This was plain awful. Absolutely, completely unwatchable. Why? It's about 60% performed in Hindi, with no sub- or sur-titles. If you don't speak fluent Hindi you won't be able to understand what the characters are saying most of the time. I know that's obvious when I say that it's performed in Hindi, but the Sydney Theatre really didn't make this obvious enough. I was also handicapped here as I didn't know the play. I've seen parts of it before, and remember some scenes but I don't know the overall plot and characters. I certainly couldn't imagine what was happening when I couldn't understand the dialogue.

The opening scene to establish the plot was entirely in Hindi, and from then on I had absolutely no idea what was going on. Mana tried to help out by whispering brief explanations as she has previously studied and performed this play. But she couldn't keep this up, and by this stage it was pretty much too late: I already had no idea who any of the characters were.

What do I know of Midsummer Night's Dream? Well, there's one of my favourite Shakespearian lines:

If we spirits have offended, Think but this and all is mended: You have but slumbered here While these visions have appeared. - Puck

That's from memory, so excuse any mistakes. I also remember the sarcasm, wit and lyricism of Puck. And I missed all that in this performance. Surprisingly enough, the play would have been better if it was entirely performed in Hindi: when they were speaking English I could follow what was happening and start to get involved. Then they would switch back to Hindi, kicking me out of any involvement, and leaving me bored and disconnected in my seat. But, then I would try to get involved again in the dance and acting, only to be booted again when they switched back to English.

Shakespeare is entertainment, especially his comedies. These were great works meant to illuminate the human condition, while also highly engaging and entertaining. Anyone should be able to watch a production and enjoy it. The only people who could enjoy this production were those who spoke fluent Hindi, and those who already knew the play intimately. And while I fully support the production of entertainment for specific languages, this should not be promoted to a larger audience as something for everyone. Because is it's not: this is an exclusive production only meant to be enjoyed by those who have already studied the play.

And I don't like this artificial, constructed exclusivity in the arts.

Apoise

This mega-yacht, Apoise was moored in front of the Park Hyatt at Circular Quay over New Year's; they would have had a pretty good view of the fireworks.

Apoise is 67m long, which just pushes it out of the top 50 yachts in the world; the shortest yacht on that list is 72m. It's impossible to tell who owns Apoise. The owners are listed as some Cayman Island company called Apoise Holding, Pty Ltd. Which tells you nothing.

Two Tales from the Same Day

The Afternoon Bus Trip Home

It's a rainy day, there's three of us huddling under the balcony of the Town Hall hotel. The rain drizzles down slowly; the ashphalt and brick building glisten damply. We're chatting about garbage collection in Scheme as the bus pulls up and everyone piles on. The three of us take seats at the back and A, R and I keep talking.

A little further down the road (maybe the West End hotel stop, but I wasn't really paying attention) a guy gets on and takes the seat in front of me. The bus continues; droning out of Balmain, onto the Anzac bridge. The sun appears out of the clouds briefly - playing across the bridge pylons and the last vestiges of the working harbour beneath. Our discussion is getting animated - what can I say? Scheme and garbage collection matter to us.

And then suddenly, the guy sitting in front of us interrupts. 'Hey!' You'll have to imagine the nasal, pinched drone for yourself - 'Does any of youse guys has a mobile phone you could lends me?' 'Sorry mate; no.' We respond.

And that was enough. 'Where's the fucking Australian spirit? Ya bunch of fucking wankers. You're all just a bunch of fucking c*&ts. Fuck youse.'

We tried to go back to our conversation, but he wasn't having that.

'Nah! I don't want to fucking hear it. Shut the fuck up, ya poofs.'

Then his phone rang. Yes, he had his own phone. The guy on the other end was told (loudly) about how this poor traveller was surrounded by a bunch of un-Australian c*&ts.

The bus continued along the Western Distributor, over Darling Harbour and into the city. At the next stop, on Sussex St, A, R and I all decide to get off.

We're followed off the bus by more descriptions of our patriotism, anatomy and sexuality. R blames my long hair for the last. Having a look back at the bus we can see him screaming at us and pounding the window. Wow.

The Morning Bus Trip to Work

I run into DC waiting for the bus. She's reading a book: 'Scaling Software Agility.' It's about RUP and agile for big and growing teams. We start talking about it, and continue talking after we're on the bus.

As our bus crosses the Anzac bridge, heading west, there's a lull in our conversation. And into the pause, the old lady in the seat in front of us turns around. 'Would you look at that? Evidence for global warming if ever I saw it.' She gestures towards what appears to be a cloud bank over North Sydney. 'All that smog and all those new cars waiting to add more.'

Below the Anzac bridge is the White Bay car wharves - just about every new car in Australia has passed through there. They sit, gleaming, sparkling cleanly. Waiting to be shipped off around the country to their excitedly waiting owners.

At first DC and I are a little taken aback - as you usually are when a random person on the bus starts talking to you.

'Well, actually, I think that's fog; not smog.' From DC, after a pause.

'Yeah, we've had quite a bit of rain recently, that would be fog, I think.' Me, this time.

'Oh? Are you a climatologist?' Now that surprised me. Such a sweet old lady, so confrontational! I had tried to be polite. There must have been some shock or surprise in my face though, because she quickly continued.

'I'm sorry for interrupting, but I've just been waiting for a chance. Listening in on your conversation has just made my year in Sydney! It's sounded like such an intelligent conversation, especially compared to the usual inanity I overhear on public transport. You know, the usual he said then I said and she said. Just so inane! Anyway, I thought you may have been scientists. Are you climatologists?'

'Close,' DC replies, 'we're both engineers.'

And then, alluding to her experience in public health policy, she regalled us with her very high opinion of engineers. All the way through the narrow street up the side of the Balmain peninsula and to our stop, opposite the Town Hall hotel.

Falling Pots

As you walk around an inner city suburb with high apartment buildings, you may see many balconies with pot plants sitting on the ledges. You may also wander if those pots ever fall onto the street below.

The answer is yes, yes they do.

This is another photo from the large ex-Mark Foy building across the road. This ceramic pot fell from a balcony on the fifth floor, through some trees while people were on their way to work.

I was too slow with the camera to get a shot of the two terrified guys who were walking past when the pot landed. The street was full of fragments of pot for a couple of days.

Fire

Across the road from our building is another old warehouse converted into apartments: one of the Mark Foys buildings. This is not the original store, that's now the Downing Centre. This is the brownstone Mark Foy warehouse.

It's a very large building, with a lot of apartments in it. Lots of apartments means lots of 'stuff' going on. A recent trick has been triggering the fire alarm. It's loud, the whole building needs to be evacuated and it requires two fire engines each time.

Two fire engines, just in case...

Some evacuees, and a lot of people just trying to go home.

The Observatory

Back in October last year, we spent a weekend at Sydney's Observatory Hotel for our anniversary. A very nice weekend; their restaurant (Galileo) is highly recommended.

Here are just some random photos from spending time wandering around Miller's Point, Walsh Bay and looking off the balcony of our room.

Funny story: the weekend was kind of a present from me, so I was in charge of the organisation. I think you can see where this is going. We were going to make a whole weekend of it, so we also bought tickets to the play Don's Party at the Sydney Opera House. Come the Friday afternoon as we were about to leave for the hotel and then the play, I went to check the booking for the hotel: and found the booking was for a Wednesday and a Thursday about two weeks later. Oh.

I called the Observatory's reservations centre, and they managed to change the booking to that Friday and Saturday night, in the same kind of room. Fortunately for me. Weekend saved.

New Years Eve 2007

We moved to Sydney at the beginning of 2007. This city is quite renowned for a reasonably good fireworks show on a pretty nice harbour for New Year's Eve, and as everyone agreed that you need to spend your first Sydney New Year's down on the harbour, that's where we went.

We got to Milson's Point at about 9pm, but still managed to get a pretty good spot right on the water with views of the bridge, the Opera House and the city.

Getting back onto the train to get home was... interesting. Maybe a rave at Bondi, next time?

An Effective Use of Limited Transport Infrastructure

I wonder if I'll be arrested as a subversive for posting this?

Graining and Cities

In his book The Timeless Way of Building, Christopher Alexander states that people should work where they live. I had some trouble with this at first as it's pretty difficult to achieve. There aren't all that many good jobs, and the chances of already living in the same area as the job are pretty low; what are you supposed to do? Move?

In spite of this, I did keep reading. And Alexander does expand on the idea some more.

The point is not to live in the exact same area as where you work, but to work in an area you could imagine living and, as important, live in an area you could imagine working. When you walk down the street you need to see all the parts of life happening: you need to dodge prams, see people eating and drinking, watch people in their offices as they watch people lounging around in a park. You need to see kids streaming home from school in the afternoon, you need to see the retired out doing their shopping during the day.

And you need all this both where you live, and where you work. You need to feel when you're spending those 40 hours a week away from your home that you are still in a place that is someone's home. Seeing those people and all the disparate things they do forms a connection between you and them. If the place you work and the place you live both have this, then you can easily transplant the connection from home to work and vice versa.

There is a name for all this: community. Community requires all parts of life: babies through to the elderly; workers, shops, services. And if you're hiding away at work for 40 hours a week you tend to forget that not only this is all going on, but also that all these different kinds of people share your world with you.

This all comes down to graining. Think of it in terms of zoning. The zones of use form grains within an area. In older areas of a city, this graining will typically very fine. That is, you can walk a short distance down a single street and pass houses, offices, cafes, libraries, shops. In newer areas, the graining becomes larger, until you reach the 60's ideal of a city composed of satellite towns: rings of suburbs with a shopping/office district at the centre.

And in there, a community dies. Communities need people to spend time with them to grow, if a significant chunk of a community's demographic disappears for a big chunk of the day then it can't really survive. Look for the fine graining, try to live and work there if you can, but always enjoy the graining.

The Clown House

Over in Darlinghurst, on the corner of Bourke and Stanley Sts, there is an old, very run-down, abandoned terrace. Fortunately, though it is essentially a ruin, it has not been knocked down. If you happen to approach this house from the back, by walking up Stanley St, there's a sight you can catch over the back fence.

I've no idea who painted it, or how long it's been there. I like it; it's nice to see these random expressions of art hidden away in the middle of the city.

Ticket'd

Spotted out our window one cold winter night:


A drug bust? A shooting? International crime syndicate? Nah, just a P-plater getting a speeding ticket.

Where-house?

These were taken in January, after we picked up the keys but before our stuff had been moved in. By now I figure that those of you who can make it here to see our new home have, so these photos are for the rest of you.


The building is a converted warehouse from the late 1890's. Until (I think) 1994 it was used as a warehouse. For most of that time as the headquarters, offices and printing rooms of the Sunday Times, Sydney's third Sunday paper. From the 1840's to the 1890's there were smaller buildings on the site, and before that, the area was market gardens.


The envelope of the building (the external brick walls) is original, and a lot of the original materials have been reused in the reconstruction. There's an old wooden pillar by the front door, for example, and some of the floor joists are original, though the floors themselves have been moved. Moving the floors has given us the 6m ceiling I've mentioned before, and the bedrooms have been tucked into a mezzanine that hangs over and opens out into the living area. The black rectangle in the photo is one of those openings.


They don't mention the joys of living in a converted 1890's warehouse in the trendy New York novels: our wall leaks. That's right: wall. Ahh, well. I call it character.

Stupid Software Tricks

Or, My Computer Was Possessed!

Last night I was following some blogs, and I found a link to a kind of rubbish photo sharing site. I won't mention the name here, for reasons that shall become clear. It's been around for a few years and has gone through some major rounds of publicity and then failed. It's now into it's third beta in a row. In short, going nowhere real fast.

Anyway, I was curious about their site, so I went to read their news page. When I'm using a computer I tend to leave what I was last doing open on screen. On coming back I can then pick up where I left off. There's always a browser open, usually with four or five tabs I want to read.

I open the photo sharing news page in a tab and then wander off. Our apartment is a loft-style space in a converted 1890's warehouse. The entire apartment is basically open-plan with the upstairs bedrooms opening out near the six metre ceiling of the living room. My computer is in a study that opens into the living room, downstairs.

At 4am this morning the entire apartment was awakened by the these bizarre screams, crazy distortion and static. What the hell is going on? Is this something from the pub next door? Have our neighbours turned some movie on? Has one of our cats stood on the TV remote again?

I stuck my head out into the living room to try to work out where the noise was coming from. The weirdest thing was that I couldn't understand the noise. I could hear voices that seemed to speaking English, and I could pick out words, but I could not understand what was actually being said.

Coming downstairs to investigate closer, the noise was coming from my computer. And it really was strange screams, distortion and static. Being closer made it no better. I started closing tabs in Firefox, as that was all that was open. Eventually I closed the photo sharing news page and it shut up.

I've never seen anything like it. The news page had a bunch of embedded videos from all over the web, and it was like Firefox and Flash had buffered the videos, and then after several hours of boredom started to explore what interesting sounds could be made by sampling and looping the soundtracks.

Spooky.

And with apologies to Yasmin, who was visiting us this weekend and was very rudely awakened.

And I haven't linked to the site because they really don't deserve even the feeble publicity a link here would grant. I found them through the Blagosphere, and I don't post vias.

shb75

Today was the 75th anniversary of the opening of the Sydney Harbour Bridge. To celebrate, the bridge was closed to traffic and people were allowed to walk across. North to South. We were there for the walk, along with a lot of other people. No rabid, right-wing monarchists though...

An icon and engineering marvel like this is really all about the photos though, so here you go.

Hyde Park Needs These

I hear it was for the St Patrick's Day concert on in the park last Saturday. I know it wasn't actually St Patrick's Day; it was moved because of the walk across the bridge. We'll be at that. Expect more photos.

Mardi Gras!

The famous Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras was last weekend. And I mean famous in the real sense, not the St Kilda Rd sense. We live literally just down the road from the main parade route, so I wandered up there to have a look.


When we were telling friends from Canberra where our place was someone asked "Will you be going to see the Mardi Gras?"

"No need; it's coming to us." And I'm glad it did. Obligatory window shot - there's a lot of this sort of thing living where we do.


Unfortunately, I was all on my own :-( but there was a fantastic party atmosphere. It'd be great to go with a group; and go early. You want to be able to get close to the barricades. Otherwise, you really won't see much.

Some photos. And again, sorry about the quality. There wasn't a lot of light, and I was holding the camera above my head and pointing it in vaguely the right direction. Oh well. Guess you'll just have to come see for yourself.

Zoo

I'm a big sucker for a zoo. I always loved the Wellington Zoo as a kid. It's a small zoo, but I loved it. There are photos from when we went back in 2004. Like many of my holidays, I made sure we went to the nearest zoo.

When my family moved over to Australia in 1986, we stopped over in Sydney. We were only in Sydney for a couple of days at most (it was a long time ago, I can't really remember) but my Dad managed to take my older brother and myself to Taronga Zoo. I can still remember that trip pretty well, and as a zoo fan, I was impressed.

Living in Darwin doesn't give you many opportunities to visit Sydney, so I didn't go back to Taronga Zoo until a family trip down the east coast in 1993. And I remember that visit as well.

But, through all our eight years of living in Canberra, just three hours drive away, I never visited Taronga Zoo. This wasn't through a want of trying, but there was always something that came up. Back in 2000, we had a trip planned. We bought a Sydney road atlas, worked out a route through the city, and then as we were going to bed early for the drive, we discovered the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras was on the next day and the entire city would be closed.

And so it went for the next seven years. No matter what we planned, or how we tried, something always stopped us from visiting Taronga Zoo. Right up until last November when we spent four days in The Rocks, to see Pearl Jam. It rained, constantly, for all four days. Not zoo visiting weather.

In the end we managed to move to Sydney, without ever visiting Taronga Zoo.

And who knew that's all it took? Should have done it years ago! On the 4th of February we finally managed to visit Taronga Zoo. And there are even photos to prove it!

Echidna - A monotreme. Ooooh...

The trick is to try to get a photo of a giraffe with the bridge in the background.
They wouldn't co-operate.

But the zebra would!

Golden pheasant in an aviary - there really were no bars between me and the bird.

And what would an Australian zoo be without koalas? Taronga has dozens!

Ummm... Tortoises... I have no comment.