Fire

by Timur Kulikov

Sherlock: Series 1

by Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss

This Christmas, we’ve spent three evenings watching this DVD (from the library). A classic with a modern twist. Of the three episodes, I liked the best the first one, A Study in Pink.

Benedict Cumberbatch plays the most arrogant (even though frighteningly brilliant) Holmes I’ve ever seen. Martin Freeman is a fine, very intelligent Dr. Watson — just like Conan Doyle’s hero, he is back to London from Afghan war. (A nice 21st century detail: both Holmes and Watson are bloggers.) However it is “minor” characters who make Sherlock such a fantastic show: rather likeable Lestrade (Rupert Graves), not your caricature dumb Scotland Yard inspector; Sgt Sally Donovan (Vinette Robinson); Jeff the cabbie (Phil Davis)... On the contrary, Moriarty (Andrew Scott) is a disappointment: too psycho to be truly scary; the first appearance of Mycroft Holmes (Mark Gatiss) is so much more impressive.

Both Gatiss and Moffat are Doctor Who writers — which explains the Time Lord’s fingerprints all over the place. Which I mean as a compliment. The picture quality of the DVD is excellent. I am looking forward to more Sherlock in 2011.

The Green Dragon

by Timur Kulikov

More vector graphics — this one inspired by Merry and Pippin’s song from The Lord of the Rings:

“...the only brew for the brave and true comes from the Green Dragon.”

When we move to Fuerteventura, Timur wants to put this sign on our house. Apparently he thinks we are opening a pub there.

The Seas

by Samantha Hunt

From the first words of prologue, this novel got me hooked. I liked its premise — a girl who think she is a mermaid falls in love with an Iraq war veteran — and the inventive language. Sometimes it gets really disturbing, but for the most part, it is a pleasure to read. Saying that, it would be so much better if it was a short story, or maybe several short stories. The mermaid’s mother, who grew up on the deaf people’s island, deserves a story of her own. And a name. It looks like, by the last third of the novel, the author got tired with all the writing, and the ending (if, really, this is an ending) is a let-down. Even so, I definitely want to read more of Samantha Hunt.

When Jude was in the war I liked to imagine how difficult it was to get my letters past the war censors with their big black markers. I doubt that there are actually censors anymore, but I’d imagine them all the same. Sometimes I thought that what I had written to him would arrive looking like this: Dear Jude, Today my ■■■■■■ and I found a ■■■■ It was a ■■■■■ with black and ■■■■■ spots on its ■■■■. Love, ■■■■■■■■■ When Jude was in the war I cleaned empty hotel rooms for money. In most of the rooms a man had taken a woman or girl and loved her with her face against the wall so she couldn’t see him. When I cleaned at the motel I’d touch the wall with my own face. I’d pretend he was behind me. I couldn’t see him. He was in the war. The walls tasted like salt.

Six-string Artist Pro Bass

by Jon Shuker

I was so impressed with my upright bass that I decided to order another instrument from Jon. As before, I paid him a visit in Sheffield to look at various models of electric basses and decide what exactly I want. Jon just introduced his new single-cut bass which looked fantastic. On the other hand, I really loved his semi-acoustic Artist design. As a result, we came up with a specification which combined both designs. Here it is (as from July 2006):

• Six-string Artist Pro Bass
• Fretted
• Single-cut, set neck
• 34″ scale
• String spacing 17 mm at the bridge
• Schertler transducer system + EMG TW pickup
• Mahogany body
• Top wood to be decided *
• Mahogany maple neck
• Macassar ebony fretboard
• Two way truss rod
• Carbon fibre reinforcement
• Rosewood bridge
• Black hardware
• Jumbo fretwire
• Mother of pearl side dots
• Polyester basecoat
• Satin topcoat
• Custom shape headstock

* In his workshop, Jon presented me with a bewildering array of exotic woods. Later, he emailed me the photos as well. All of them were beautiful but in the end I chose figured cedar.

As with the EUB, Jon kept me up-to-date with the bass construction via email. The instrument was ready by June 2007. However I had to cancel my trip to Sheffield because of heavy rains and floods. Luckily, Jon was able to evacuate his workshop, literally minutes before the building was flooded. I went to collect the bass in July and saw all the destruction.

As far as I know, this was the first single-cut Artist bass Jon has built. Another unusual feature was a combination of Schertler (“acoustic”) system and EMG TW (“electric”) pickup. The latter is a combination of two electromagnetic pickups in one: single-coil and dual-coil, and one can switch between two modes. A separate knob works a balance between “acoustic” and “electric” signals. The purely “acoustic” sound is more similar to the sound of acoustic bass guitar rather to that of a double bass. The bass was (still is) fitted with Rotosound Swing Bass roundwound strings.

More photos of six-string electric bass @ Shutterstock.

Octupus *

by Timur Kulikov

Tamara gave Timur the first lesson of Adobe Illustrator this morning. In just a couple hours, Timur has created another of his sea life epics — this time, in vector graphics.

* It’s like an octopus but spelled with two “u”s rather than two “o”s. This is how Timur named it.

This is Spın̈al Tap

a film by Rob Reiner

Derek: David, we had a fifteen-year ride, mate. ‘Mean, who wants to be a fuck’n forty-five year old rock’n’roller farting around in front of people less than half their age?...
David: So true, so true, yeah...
Derek: ...cranking out some kind of mediocre head-banging bullshit, you know, that we’ve forgotten...

The movie was released in 1984, allegedly documenting the Spın̈al Tap’s 1982 American tour, and it was already funny. (To those, who got the humour, that is: even the guys in the business thought it was a real documentary about a real band.) Make it “a forty-five-year ride” and “seventy year old rock’n’roller” and it could have been made now and still be believable. Even funnier.

Of course, some people still are wondering what’s so funny and how on earth TIST (and the band) acquired the cult status. I myself watched the movie for the first time just now. (I bought the DVD last week in a charity shop for £3.) I think... it could have been great. So what? Now and then, I can afford to watch a movie that is simply very good.

By the by, This is Spın̈al Tap is the only film that IMDb rates 8.0 out of eleven. Unfortunately, the users still can only give it maximum of ten stars, so in effect, its rating is lower than it should be.

St. Lucy’s Home for Girls Raised by Wolves

by Karen Russell

The heroes of these ten tales are children on the verge of adulthood. While the title story firmly belongs in the realm of magical realism, the others, such as Ava Wrestles the Alligator and Haunting Olivia, appear to be made from the material of dreams — and, just like dreams, do not resolve, satisfactorily or otherwise. Children’s Reminiscences of the Westward Migration could be either. (Do you have dreams where you are reminiscing?) And Out to Sea, perhaps the best story of the collection, is thoroughly realistic. Maybe it is a true story.

When things first started to go missing around the cabin, Sawtooth chalked it up to the onslaught of dementia. He was relieved when he realized it was just Augie. He does little experiments to test her. He’ll leave something small on the table, a pack of Sir Puffers or a withered red starfish, and go crouch in the bathroom. When he comes back, the table is always empty, the girl smiling with her hands folded neatly in her lap. Sawtooth likes it best when she takes sentimental things, objects with no resale value whatsoever. She steals his left socks, his grocery lists; she pries the little hand off the wall clock. On her last visit, the girl stole one of his family photographs right out of the frame. He thinks this means she is starting to care about him, too. Out to Sea

Abantu

by The Mighty Zulu Nation in coalition with Aki Nawaz

I first heard The Mighty Zulu Nation six years ago, thanks (again) to the Songlines magazine. MZN were introduced in their Top of the World review as “the dozen-strong choir from Durban”, and the covermount CD had a track that blew my mind: Mdavu The Man.

mdavu bakubiza umbombela
isitimela samalahle

Eh? Eh? How was that? I bought the album immediately and must have listened to it at least one hundred times, last time just couple days ago. Mdavu The Man remains one of my favourite songs there, together with Ebumnadini and Shobana. But it was not until I started on this post when I discovered that MZN are based in Huddersfield. Hooray for Yorkshire!

Տղամարդիկ

a film by Edmond Keosayan

Наутро, конечно, выпал снег — такого раннего снега старожилы не запомнят. Синоптики, как водится, объясняли это редкое явление циклонами и антициклонами, столкновениями каких-то там холодных и тёплых масс, где-то там, над морем Лаптевых... Мы-то с вами знаем, отчего снег выпал именно сегодня.

In the morning, of course, the snow fell. The old-timers won’t remember snow that early. Weather men, as usual, did their best to explain this rare phenomenon with cyclones and anticyclones and collisions of cold and warm air masses somewhere there, over the Laptev Sea... But you and I, we know why the snow did not fall any other day.

Isn’t the internet great? Couple of days ago, a closing scene of this film, with Russian voice-over (see the quote above), came to my head, although I could remember neither its title nor any actor. The only thing I was reasonably sure was that the movie was mostly in Armenian, with short narration bits in Russian, and that there were scenes of men dancing kochari (no, I didn’t remember that word either). A few minutes of search with keyword Armenfilm, and here it is: Tghamardik, the Russian title: Мужчины (“The Men”). I didn’t realise until now how famous this film is: according to Russian Wikipedia, in Yerevan there even is a monument to its heroes, the taxi drivers Vazgen, Sako, Suren and Aram.

The complete Russian-narration version, featuring the incomparable voice of Zinovy Gerdt, is available here; YouTube also has the Armenian-only version.

Sex for One: The Joy of Selfloving

by Betty Dodson

If that was not clear from the title and subtitle, this book is dedicated to masturbation. Which is a hugely fascinating topic on its own. However, Betty Dodson — an artist, sex enthusiast and a very brave woman — manages to cover, in one slim volume, much more than “just” masturbation. This book is about loving your body. This book is also about liberation from the stereotypes, from the traditional gender roles, from the myth of romantic love forever. It is also about not being ashamed of your fantasies; about not feeling guilty of pleasure; about being honest. It is about having fun. (Which includes having an orgasm when and how you want it, but also, importantly, giving it a miss when you don’t want it.)

Sex for One is not an impersonal masturbation manual. It is very much personal, sometimes to uncomfortable degree. You don’t have to agree with everything Dr Dodson says to enjoy the book. It is written with a great sense of humour. It has tasteful pencil drawings. And you will never look at the heart symbol ♡ with the same eyes again.

The best way to keep a population docile and easy to manipulate is to prohibit masturbation, insist on marriage and monogamy, withhold sex information and birth control, criminalize abortion and prostitution, condemn homosexuality, censor sexually explicit entertainment, and deny the existence of sexual diversity. With a list like that, we’re all sexual sinners.

♡ ♥ ♡

It’s only one woman’s dream, but I believe when more men can really worship their phallus, guns and MX missiles will become obsolete.

♥ ♡ ♥

I can hear the Romantic Feminist Matriarchy screaming, “That’s disgusting! She thinks an orgasm is like taking a dump.” And I’d answer, “A lot of orgasms aren’t nearly so satisfying.”

♡ ♥ ♡

Once I realized that masturbation was an active form of meditation, I thought, Hallelujah❣ Now everyone will want to meditate.

♥ ♡ ♥

Cordless wands are delightful to take out on the sun deck or pack in a picnic basket to take onto a deserted beach. Or bring one along in the car in case you get stuck in traffic. No one will know why you look so happy unless one of these big trucks pulls up alongside.

♡ ♥ ♡

Having an orgasm with a new fantasy is every bit as good as having sex with a new lover. Some times it’s even hotter. People can be so unpredictable, but I can always count on myself.

CL4 Black n’Silver

by RotoSound

Ever since I broke the first of the “original” strings (of unknown maker) on my Clarissa, I was sticking to nylons from American manufacturers such as D’Addario, La Bella and Martin. I was wondering if there are European makers of black nylon strings of comparable quality. (Why? Because black trebles look cool.) And here they are, “Proudly made in Sevenoaks, Kent, England”, beautiful strings with clear, rich sound. I put them on just two days ago, so it remains to be seen for how long this sound and these strings will last. But for now, I am happy with them.

More photos of nylon guitar strings @ Shutterstock.

Djembe

by Timur Kulikov

Paper, felt-tip pens.

This drawing of djembe was intended for a school competition for the best drawing. In the end, Timur did not submit it because he thought more work was needed. He brought it home and finished it on Friday.

Pedal B♭ and Jingle Bells

Last week I was practicing pedal B♭ on trombone:

Pedal B♭1 is an octave lower than B♭2, the lowest of harmonics in the first position. It is not particularly difficult to play B♭1. I found that the less I think of how to play it, the easier it is for me to hit it. The key is to relax my mouth as much as I can.

Today in Duxford we were playing the trombone duet of Jingle Bells. Just like last year, except this time I was playing the funky bass line (featuring, you may have guessed, pedal B♭1). I wrote it down with LilyPond. The only new embellishment here is glissando. (I say, there is no point learning trombone unless you get to play glissando.)

• To link two notes with glissando, put \glissando between them, for example
  c2 \glissando f2
• If these two notes are separated by the forced break \break, add the line:
  \override Glissando #'breakable = ##t
• Default glissando is represented by a straight line. Add a touch of style in the following fashion:
  \override Glissando #'style = #'zigzag

Here goes:

And the LilyPond file:

% ****************************************************************
% Jingle Bells (duet) in Bb major
% ****************************************************************
\version "2.12.3"
\header {
 title = "Jingle Bells (for two trombones)"
 composer = "James Pierpont"
}
\score {
<<
  \new Staff
 {
  \clef bass
  \key bes \major
  \override Glissando #'style = #'zigzag
   d4 d4 d2
   d4 d4 d2
   d4 f4 bes,4. c8
   d2. r4 \break
   ees4 ees4 ees4. ees8
   ees4 d4 d4 d8 d8
   d4 c4 c4 d4
   c2 \glissando f2 \break
   d4 d4 d2
   d4 d4 d2
   d4 f4 bes,4. c8
   d2. r4 \break
   ees4 ees4 ees4. ees8
   ees4 d4 d4 d8 d8
   f4 f4 ees4 c4
   bes,1 \bar "|."
 }
  \new Staff
 {
  \clef bass
  \key bes \major 
  \override Glissando #'style = #'zigzag
  \override Glissando #'breakable = ##t
   bes,4 f4 f,4 f4
   bes,4 f4 f,4 f4
   bes,4 f4 f,4 f4
   bes,4 a,4 g,4 f,4 \break
   c4 f4 f,4 f4
   bes,4 f4 f,4 f4
   c4 f4 f,4 f4
   c2 f,2 \glissando \break
   bes,4 f4 f,4 f4
   bes,4 f4 f,4 f4
   bes,4 f4 f,4 f4
   bes,4 a,4 g,4 f,4 \break
   c4 f4 f,4 f4
   bes,4 f4 f,4 f4
   c4 f4 f,4 f4
   bes,2 bes,,2 \bar "|."
 }
>>
}

See photos of trombone @ Shutterstock.

Zaz

by Zaz

I, for once, want to say something good about Ryanair. And what is that? They have really informative flight magazine. (Unfortunately, nowadays you have to ask them to hand you one. And then they have a cheek to collect them back. Doesn’t it say “Your Free Copy” on the cover?) Last time I was flying with them, I read a feature about Paris. And there (wait, let me consult my free copy... here: Ryanair Magazine 2010, issue 44, page 55), in section “On the Ground”, they recommend Zaz, the album by Zaz (never heard of her before), “the 21st century’s Piaf”, as one of five things one must buy in Paris. No offence but the other four did not excite me at all.

When back to reliable internet connection, I went to check this album on the web. Wow. (Or should I say, Ouah?) It is wonderfully upbeat and happy album. My favourites, for now, are Dans Ma Rue, Le Long De La Route, Les Passants and Ni Oui Ni Non but there are no dull songs at all. And, with all due respect to the French cultural icon, I daresay Zaz sings better than Piaf.

Disobedience

by Naomi Alderman

Once upon a time, there were three good friends: two schoolgirls, Esti and Ronit, and a boy, Dovid. They dreamed of the future where three of them will be together.

And then? I don’t think we’d quite decided. Being together in the same city, away from my home, seemed enough.

Of course, the future did not turn out quite as the children imagined it. Esti and Dovid, now a married couple, are still trapped (can’t think of other word) in their native Hendon. Ronit escaped to New York years ago; now she is coming back.

There are many parallels between Disobedience and Brick Lane — I am saying this in a good way, mostly, for I liked both of them. Unfortunately, they both have less than convincing “happy endings”. Ronit, the subversive one, maybe a bit too arrogant to be likeable, accepts a bribe to be quiet. Worse still, it is said that now she even observes Shabbat and sometimes prays. What happened to the rebel? Esti, the silent one, surprised me by being stronger and bolder than I thought. Still, why didn’t she follow the love of her life to New York? On the contrary, her apparently “ineffectual” and also rather quiet husband, now the Rabbi, deserves all respect. Maybe he is only one of the three who is truly happy.

Disobedience is a highly readable, intelligent, thought-provoking (at times, just provoking) novel. It has its flaws, but so do a lot of good books. Most importantly, I started to care about the characters, even though in the end they disappointed me.

These are subtle things. We don’t condone wife-beating here, or genital mutilation, or honour killings. We don’t demand head-to-toe coverings, or cast-down eyes, or that a woman must not go out in public unaccompanied. We are modern. We live modern lives. All we demand is that women keep to their allotted areas; a woman is private, while a man is public. The correct mode for a man is speech, while the correct mode for a woman is silence. I’ve spent a long time proving that this isn’t so. I’ve spent a long time insisting that no one else can tell me when to speak and when to remain silent. So much so that it’s hard for me to tell when I want to be quiet.

The “exclusive additional material” of this Penguin edition contains an interview with Naomi Alderman, a list of her favourite kosher restaurants in London, and even (for the kitchen-minded) some Jewish recipes.

Rivers and Tides

a film by Thomas Riedelsheimer

I don’t think Earth needs me at all. But I do need it.

Andy Goldsworthy

I have a couple of books by Andy Goldsworthy. They are great to peruse at your leisure. (They are great, full stop.) What is missing from the books, however, is the sense of time. Whether it is his ephemeral creations (the icicle sculpture which is meant to last only a few hours) or more permanent constructions (the seasonal changes around his trademark cairns), Goldsworthy is always working with time. Well, that is what this film’s subtitle says.

Even so, this documentary offers more than just one extra dimension to the artist’s work. The beautiful photography captures his working environment — that is, nature; his techniques (Goldsworthy often uses no tools but his bare hands and teeth); him watching his sculptures fall down and starting anew. He does not seem to be concerned with his works outlasting him. Which makes it all more important to appreciate the artist in his lifetime, don’t you think?

Among other things, this film introduced me to the music of Fred Frith.

Alternative flags of Fuerteventura

The very day I made a photo of an ideal location for reading Lolita, it occurred to me that what I saw around me looked like a flag of the place where I want to live. (A few months before that, I came to the conclusion that Fuerteventura is the place I want to live.) But the flag of Fuerteventura (unofficial anyway) looks nothing like it. See for yourself:

From top to bottom: sky, sea, sand. Now tell me that it does not look like this:

Flag A: a view from the shore

Then I went for a swim and, turning toward the land, discovered an alternative view. (Next time I will take my waterproof, sort of, camera and make a photo.) From top to bottom: sky, sand, sea.

Flag B: a view from the sea

So simple. And yet it does not look like there is a national flag like either A or B. Well, not among the sovereign-state flags anyway. The closest (colour-wise) flag is that of Gabon, which looks just like my flag B upside-down. That, of course, is how you’d see Fuerteventura while performing a surf flip. Or simply swimming on your back, head toward the land.

Flag of Gabon

More photos of Fuerteventura @ Shutterstock.

Despicable Me

a film by Pierre Coffin and Chris Renaud

I did not really want to watch this film today. Timur and Yuri wanted to see it, so I went with them. I’m glad I did. A few trailers I’ve seen do not do the film any justice. No, there’s nothing groundbreaking in this animation, but it is a jolly good fun all the same. If it has any take-home lessons, they are not particularly original. OK, here is a couple:

• Three orphans will always beat a supervillain (see A Series of Unfortunate Events)
• Bank of Evil was formerly known as Lehman Brothers (I knew that!)

Mill Road Winter Fair 2010

My, the time is flying: it’s Mill Road Winter Fair again! Luckily, it was not as cold today as for the whole of this week. The mini-parade led by Arco Iris started from Ditchburn Gardens at 2:30 pm. We were supposed to arrive at Argyle Street Housing Co-operative (the same spot as last year) at 3:00, but, given the distance, we did it about quarter an hour earlier. Then we played a 30-minute static set. We had a good 50+ strong band which sounded great — I mean, even greater than usual. The photos are to follow.

This was our last gig of 2010.

Lolita

by Vladimir Nabokov

I first read Лолита (Nabokov’s translation of Lolita) twentysomething years ago. It was a hardbound, poor-quality photocopy of an American edition — a notch up from “real” samizdat. It weighed at least half a kilo. I loved the book. In 1990s, I bought a then newly published Russian edition. It was a bliss.

My earlier attempts to read the novel in its original tongue were unsuccessful. Somehow I couldn’t keep struggling with Nabokov’s language beyond the first forty pages or so. The last time I gave up was about five years ago. Then, last month, the breakthrough came: I went to Fuerteventura and finally discovered the ideal conditions for reading Lolita:

What can I say? English Lolita really is as good as Russian Лолита. Now I wish I knew French enough to read all of it without Internet help (for, in contrast to Russian version, the numerous French phrases are left untranslated). It is one of the greatest love stories ever written.

You may jeer at me, and threaten to clear the court, but until I am gagged and half-throttled, I will shout my poor truth. I insist the world know how much I loved my Lolita, this Lolita, pale and polluted, and big with another’s child, but still gray-eyed, still sooty-lashed, still auburn and almond, still Carmencita, still mine; Changeons de vie, ma Carmen, allons vivre quelque part où nous ne serons jamais séparés; Ohio? The wilds of Massachusetts? No matter, even if those eyes of hers would fade to myopic fish, and her nipples swell and crack, and her lovely young velvety delicate delta be tainted and torn — even then I would go mad with tenderness at the mere sight of your dear wan face, at the mere sound of your raucous young voice, my Lolita.

불꽃처럼 나비처럼

a film by Yong-gyun Kim

OK that was it. After watching this film, I am taking a long break from Oriental historical martial arts movies. I don’t know much about Korean history but judging from the fact that every half-decent character is eventually brutally murdered, this film even might be historically correct (shudder). Still, I got more confused than usual. Could it be that some illuminating parts of the story were edited? I can’t make much sense of the title The Sword with No Name. (Ditto the original Korean title, Like Fireworks, Like Butterflies.)

Saying that, there are some very impressive moments, and good acting too. The scene of first encounter of Ja-young (Su-Ae) and Moo-myoung (Seung-woo Cho) is genuinely touching. It’s a shame then that the whole thing is spoiled by cheap and completely unnecessary CGI effects. Also, you don’t get to see a lot of quality swordplay, because most of fighting is happening in the dark. In the end the truth is revealed that no matter how good swordsman you are, the sword is no match for firearms. Doy, I knew that from Indiana Jones.

Bookmarks

by Timur Kulikov

Coloured paper, sandpaper, glue.

Panique au village

a film by Stéphane Aubier and Vincent Patar

Tired of computer-generated (celebrity-voiced / 3-D / Pixar) animations? Try this one for a change. Refreshingly lo-fi, low-budget stop-motion Belgian film featuring Cowboy, Indian and Horse. Silly, crazy, absurd... call it whatever, A Town Called Panic is the funniest animation I’ve seen this year.

We’ve missed this film when it was screened in Cambridge (for one week only in October — I call that crazy). Once again, well done Saffron Screen!

Three Men in a Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog)

by Jerome K. Jerome

After all these years in England, I am yet to meet an Englishman who actually read this book (as opposed to read about the book). Shocking! When I were a lad, which was back in Soviet space-time, it seemed that everybody read it. And for a good reason.

Chances are that every now and then you will come across one of them lists of “one hundred (for example) books to read before you die” which inevitably have War and Peace, Ulysses and The Lord of the Rings. But not Three Men in a Boat. Why? True, Jerome is not Tolstoy. Thank goodness! This book is guaranteed to never bore you to death. Moreover, you’ll want to re-read it on regular basis. From any place, for its chapters have these useful as well as hilarious summaries that help you to get to your favourite bit quickly:

The food question — Objections to paraffin oil as an atmosphere — Advantages of cheese as a travelling companion — A married woman deserts her home — Further provisions for getting upset — I pack — Cussedness of tooth-brushes — George and Harris pack — Awful behaviour of Montmorency — We retire to rest.

I’ve got this very cute Bloomsbury Classics edition which fits perfectly in the pocket of my fleece: another advantage over War and Peace.

I don’t know why it should be, but everybody is always so exceptionally irritable on the river. Little mishaps, that you would hardly notice on dry land, drive you nearly frantic with rage, when they occur on the water. When Harris or George makes an ass of himself on dry land, I smile indulgently; when they behave in a chuckle-head way on the river, I use the most blood-curdling language to them. When another boat gets in my way, I feel I want to take an oar and kill all the people in it.

Clarissa P-30

by C.L. Strumenti Musicali

Rome, October 1993. I was outside the former USSR for the very first time. My visit to Italy coincided with some rather disturbing events in Russia. A few weeks before that, I received my very first grant: US$500 from Soros’s International Science Foundation — a huge sum of money for me. I was determined to bring something great from Rome.

This Italian beauty looked and sounded just right. I think I paid about 200,000 Italian lire for it. It travelled with me back to Moscow, then back to Italy, back to Moscow, then to England. It became a standard of a classical guitar for me. I have seen and played apparently superior — well, at least, much more expensive instruments. None of them ever did feel as good. Last time I tried to find a better guitar, I ended up buying Parker PM-20 instead.

Four years ago, Clarissa went through a repair. The soundboard was all warped and the bridge had to be reattached. After that, I found that the action is too high for my liking. After mutilating the original saddle beyond recognition, I finally took it out and put there a bit of old Rotosound Tru Bass black nylon string. It is still there, you can see it on the photo.

Yuri was learning guitar on it for two years. Now Timur does the same. Long live Clarissa!

More photos of classical guitar @ Shutterstock.

de lo Flamenco in Corralejo

I was torn between the choices yesterday: shall I go to see de lo Flamenco at Blue Jazz Bar or Reggae Revolution at Waikiki? As it happened, I managed to visit both. This particular incarnation of de lo Flamenco comprises:

• a la guitarra: Marco Carrasco
• al cante: Rafael Carrasco
• al baile: Anna Villacampa

Now in any decent-sized European city people would come in hundreds and pay good money to see the show. As it were, yesterday’s concert was free and there were about twenty us spectators. At some point, de lo Flamenco left their tiny stage and came to play, sing and dance in the middle of the audience. It was absolutely awesome. When I am back to proper bandwidth, I will try to upload somewhere a few short video snippets of the show. (There are several videos at their YouTube channel but, as far as I can see, none features the Carrasco brothers.)

The reggae “evening” with Michael (Cuba) and Smoka Smoka Sound System (Italy) did not start until after midnight, so I even had time for dinner at Waikiki. It was not bad at all (I mean reggae, and food as well), but I was too tired to stay till the end.

La planète blanche

a film by Jean Lemire, Thierry Piantanida and Thierry Ragobert

I am a great admirer of David Attenborough & Co. work. Now, forget Attenborough. This film is something completely different. Its point is not to give you amazing facts but make you to fall in love with the White Planet. It is not as much documentary as poetry.

This DVD comes with two short “making of” documentaries which are both well worth watching, especially the making of the music. It is fascinating to see the score by Bruno Coulais (who composed the music for such movies as Microcosmos and Coraline) evolving, in collaboration with Jorane and native Inuit singers, into a weird and beautiful soundtrack.

Plastic Beach

by Gorillaz

Isn’t it ironic that the latest album of a virtual band credits real guest musicians on ten out of 16 tracks? An excessive number of guest artists is never a good sign even for a real band. Especially if we are talking a concept album, and Plastic Beach kind of pretends to be one. The most interesting, music-wise, composition here is White Flag; more specifically, its introduction and conclusion played by the Lebanese National Orchestra for Oriental-Arabic Music (who, bizarrely, are not credited as performers on the CD booklet. The middle bit, featuring rap by Bashy & Kano, is utterly unremarkable). Disappointing.

Château Ollieux Romanis Cuvée Classique 2008

Perfect on its own as well as with pasta and meat dishes.

We all have seen these useful wine recommendations, didn’t we. Luckily, this particular red, from Château Ollieux Romanis, Corbières has nothing of the sort on the bottle. Nor does it have any gratuitous description of bogus flavours — and since it is unoaked, it isn’t even oaky! In fact, it doesn’t have written there much at all. I bought it in Joseph Barnes Wines shop in Saffron Walden, on recommendation of its proprietor, Charles Hardcastle. No regrets, because it is simply an excellent wine.

More photos of red wine @ Shutterstock.

One Hundred Great Books in Haiku

by David Bader

Developed by Zen monks possibly suffering from attention deficit disorder, these poems were packed with keen insights on frogs and cherry blossom yet short enough to be recited in a single breath. Japanese readers could experience and savour the finest haiku of Bashō in its entirety (three lines), while Western readers of, say, John Milton’s Paradise Lost (10,000 lines) were still staring at the title page.

Even if you hate this book (its author, haiku, poetry in general), you can’t complain that it is too long. It took me less than ten minutes to read through one hundred books. And for terminally lazy, there is an index in the end, so you don’t spend any time looking for that Dostoyevsky (page 42). Most of the haiku here indeed have seventeen syllables, except for this one:

The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman

Laurence Sterne

I’ve torn out line two.

Reader, it was dull.

Beats the nine volumes of the original, I say.

The Lord of the Rings

a film trilogy by Peter Jackson

“I think Mr. C.S. Lewis is a very good writer. But he has one failing. There are no funny bits in his books.”
“You are right there,” Miss Honey said.
“There aren’t many funny bits in Mr. Tolkien either,” Matilda said.

I cannot agree more with Roald Dahl’s heroine. With all due respect, J.R.R. Tolkien is not funny. Of course, Peter Jackson’s trilogy has some incredibly cool battle scenes, but I wouldn’t want to watch it more than once if not for humour that is sorely missing from the book. Alas, a lot of material, including some really funny episodes, did not make into theatrical release. To fully appreciate the LotR movies, you have to watch this extended edition. It will take 11 hours to sit through the six DVDs though.

Make no mistake: LotR has some of the greatest as well as some of the most embarrassing moments in modern cinema. The latter include the silly battle-cum-break-dance between two elderly wizards in The Fellowship of the Ring; Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen) singing in The Return of the King; and almost every scene involving Frodo (Elijah Wood). Throughout the movies, Frodo cycles between three equally creepy states: distressed and agitated; rolling his blue eyes (otherwise doing nothing); and smiling while thinking about the Shire (and doing nothing). Yuck! His sidekick Sam (Sean Astin) is marginally better, although by the third film he becomes as unbearable as Frodo. Most probably because, as we know, he’s always stuffing his face when Master’s not looking.

On the contrary, Merry (Dominic Monaghan) and Pippin (Billy Boyd — I love his accent) are there to provide comic relief, as well as some real action. Ditto Gimli (John Rhys-Davies), always in competition with Legolas (Orlando Bloom). Gandalf (Ian McKellen) appears to have a good sense of humour too (“Do not mention Frodo, or the Ring. And say nothing of Aragorn either. In fact, it’s better if you don’t speak at all, Peregrin Took”). However, my absolutely favourite character is Gollum/Sméagol (Andy Serkis). I am looking forward to his reappearance in The Hobbit.

Addenbrooke’s fireworks again

Just like last year, Arco Iris played two very loud sets at Addenbrooke’s, pre- and post-firework display. The programme included our new-ish maracatu piece which, as far as I know, we never played in public before. Also, this was Arco Iris’s first gig featuring yours truly on repinique. I did not really intend it, but, since far too many people signed up to play caixa this time, I did volunteer. To my horror, I turned out to be the only (non-leader) rep player tonight. So when the leaders were doing their leading stuff, I was playing, um, whatever I could recall from my few rep practice sessions. Ah well, nobody was complaining.

More photos of fireworks @ Shutterstock.

Five-string Electric Upright Bass

by Jon Shuker

Back in 2004, I was looking for a British maker of electric upright basses and came across several excellent reviews of Shuker instruments. At the time, Shuker was making two models of EUB, both of them now discontinued. I think they were codenamed Up1 and Up2. I went to Sheffield to see Jon in his workshop and discuss the specification. Here it is (I looked it up in an email from July 2004):

• Five-string Up2
• 36″ scale
• Five-piece laminate neck (African walnut / sycamore veneer) — black or white veneer
  stripes
• Ebony true upright board
• Figured wood facings (flamed maple)
• Matching wood facings for headstock and control cavity cover
• Edge fretlines and position dots
• Two way adjustable truss rod
• Gotoh GB70 tuners
• Ebony nut
• Schertler transducer system
• Three-band equaliser
• Clear finish, satin lacquer
• Stand/fittings

The instrument was ready in early 2005. It was fitted with D’Addario Helicore Orchestral bass ¾ scale medium tension strings, including H616 (low B) string (the bass is tuned B-E-A-D-G). Moreover, Jon put the bass in a padded bag specially made-to-measure by some small company. It is the coolest upright bass I have ever seen, not to mention owned. (Well it is the only upright bass you have ever owned. — I told you not to mention it.)

More photos of electric upright bass @ Shutterstock.

The Carnegie Hall Concert

by Keith Jarrett

I bought this two-CD set on sale the other week. Just another Keith Jarrett album for my collection, you understand. You don’t see a lot of Keith Jarretts on sale. True, some of his albums are disappointing. So what? Being as prolific as Jarrett is, the man is surely allowed to record a weak album now and then, and who can blame him? I certainly did not expect another Köln Concert, and The Köln Concert it ain’t. It is something completely different, and yet unmistakeably Jarrett. I don’t think it would be a blasphemy to say that The Carnegie Hall Concert is almost as great as that 30-year older masterpiece. Why “almost”? Let me explain.

I understand that ECM released the concert exactly as it was played in Carnegie Hall on 26 September 2005, taking care to present the first half of the concert on disc one and what followed after the interval, that is, the second half plus five encores, on disc two. (That explains why the second CD is more than twice as long as the first one.) Which is fair enough, but sometimes less is more; of all record companies, ECM should know that better. On this occasion, Part I, Part IV and Part VI are amorphous, tuneless free-jazz exercises which I can happily live without. On the other hand, my favourite tracks are Part III, Part VII and Paint My Heart Red. You see, I am cherry-picking here. I wouldn’t dare to do that with The Köln Concert, which is pretty much indivisible, like an atom.

L’Illusionniste

a film by Sylvain Chomet

I find it ridiculous, if not criminal, that however good, bad or downward horrible any Disney/Pixar/DreamWorks production may be, it is invariably screened everywhere while our own masterpiece, The Illusionist (made in Edinburgh!) was shown only in 42 cinemas in the UK. Luckily, we’ve got it in Saffron Screen for two nights only — so if you missed it, you still have tonight to fix that!

Based on an unproduced script by great Jacques Tati (note the protagonist’s name, Tatischeff), this beautiful animation takes us on nostalgic journey through 1950s Britain: London, Scottish islands, Edinburgh... Absolutely marvellous. My favourite characters are carnivorous rabbit and a perpetually inebriated Scotsman. Also, look out for the guest appearance of the mechanic from Les Triplettes de Belleville.

Death at Intervals

by José Saramago
translated by Margaret Jull Costa

It was not until my last visit to lanzarote that I learned about the death — and life — of this island’s famous resident, the nobel prize winner, thanks to the obituary, published in local magazine, which mentioned several of his novels, including death at intervals, which was why I picked the book from the library, and was not disappointed.

Saramago’s novella, satire, fable, parable, fairy tale, or whatever you may wish to call this book, deals with a curious case of death taking a break, a sabbatical, so to speak, from her duties, in an unnamed landlocked country, with rather catastrophic consequences for national economy and psyche, not to mention the concomitant rise of maphia, with a ph (to distinguish it from the original mafia), followed, seven months later, by death’s spectacular comeback, accompanied by epistolary manifestations, further damage to national psyche, and the discovery that death, with a small d, is actually a person, more specifically, a female, of uncertain age but who, at certain moments, can look like a very pretty woman of thirty-six — I knew it! — who, apparently, never failed in her undertakings before, until now, that is, when the postal service refuses to deliver her letter to, wait, wait, a single man, a musician, who once said that he couldn’t see himself in any piece of music other than chopin’s étude opus twenty-five, number nine, in g flat major, also known as “Le papillon”, but that’s about all I was going to tell you, thank you for reading, good night.

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies

by Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith

My dearest reader,

you must wonder why anyone in their sound mind would devote any time to this absurd romance, for a mere perusal of its abominable cover makes its very premise & scheme abundantly clear. And yet, three dozen pages on, I found myself quite amused, nay, intrigued & unwilling to give up; by the middle of the book, I was thoroughly engrossed in the misadventures of Miss Bennets, Mr Darcy & assorted officers, not to mention the unmentionables. Worse still, by the last four score pages, I was unable to put the wretched tome down, even for a few short moments. The truth must be said that I would never willingly embark on reading of Miss Austen’s masterpiece if not for the most gratuitous addition of dreadfuls & ninjas in this frivolous edition. Its deficiencies are aplenty; the style, I dare say, is rather vulgar (calling Brighton “that gay bathing-place”? Well I never); but, for want of a decent literary companion, you may as well find Pride & Prejudice & Zombies a delightful reading indeed.

Yours, etc., etc.

Red & Green

by Ali Farka Touré

Red & Green is a CD reissue of two LPs by the late Ali Farka Touré. Incidentally, the original LPs were not called anything like “Red Album” and “Green Album”. According to the BBC review, they were

the last two of seven untitled discs he <Touré> released on the Paris-based Sonodisc label between 1975 and 1988.

In the liner notes (in both English and French), Andy Kershaw writes how, back in 1986, he came across the “Red Album” in the bargain bin of an African record shop in Paris. This find led to “discovery” of Ali Farka Touré by the Western audience.

Personally, I have a trouble with telling the songs apart. At first, most of the “Green Album” sounded like one song to me. It does not look that there are any chord changes either. But this is kind of irrelevant. The music is hypnotic, eternal, beautiful. Like a desert. It puts you in the mood where you don’t want the chord to change, you don’t want the song to end.

Octopus

by Timur Kulikov

Paper, felt-tip pens.

The Lazy Person’s Guide to Life: Apathy Made Easy

by Gray Joliffe

This was probably the very first book I bought in England, back in 1995. It could have changed my life then if only I were not so busy working and really followed its advice. Still, it was and remains a great source of wisdom for me. Check it out — if you can get your hands on it.

Dinner conversation

Ecology It’s all a good idea. Whales should be saved and you agree wholeheartedly about that, except as far as you knew they were all pretty strong swimmers anyway. Rhinos should also be saved, but where would you get a rubber ring big enough to go round them?

Health

Ask any biologist or anybody in the medical profession, and if they’re honest they will tell you that the single most effective way to be lithe, muscular, good-looking, fit, healthy and generally obnoxious, with every chance of living to a ripe old age, is to choose the right parents. But you didn’t, did you?

Insurance and mortgages

Don’t bother with either of these unless you really have to.

Procrastination

Procrastination is a loafer’s best friend. Leave something until it can no longer be left, and there is a reasonable chance that

• it will no longer need doing, or
• someone else will have done it before you got round to it.

Sex

Lazy sex is perfectly normal and you shouldn’t feel guilty if you indulge in it. What’s more, women can be just as lazy in bed as men, though many of them are too modest to admit it.

Sport

Don’t be ridiculous.

What to do on holiday

Nothing.

Work

— wait, I have another blog for those quotes.

CéU

by Céu

From Amazon’s editorial review of CéU:

It’s no surprise that Starbucks is behind Brazilian chanteuse CéU’s self-titled debut disc. <...> The slinky, soulful sounds would be right at home amid mocha frapuccinos and lattes with extra foam. But CéU is more than a mere coffee-club cutie.

And so on. Not exactly a description that would sell a CD to me. Luckily, I got it as a gift and was (until today) spared this uncalled-for knowledge.

The truth is, there is nothing lazy or clubby or particularly cute about Céu’s music. Instead, she offers ingenuity, sincerity and restraint. It took me a quite a few listenings to fully appreciate this album. I love the way she mixes vocal with electronica, turntable scratches and percussion — watch the video of Rainha and you’ll see that she can do it live too! My other favourites are Ave Cruz, Mais um Lamento, Roda and Valsa pra Biu Roque.

The Naked Gun Trilogy

by David Zucker and Peter Segal

The nights are getting longer, you may have noticed. So, if you happen to have three evenings to fill, search no further than this DVD set. Three words: silly, silly, silly. Actually, rather clever. I am sure a good half of cultural references is lost on me but it doesn’t matter because these movies are so mindblowingly hilarious.

I found The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad! the best of the three. Maybe it is the sequel effect; maybe that the assassination of Her Majesty is so much more sinister plot than influencing the US energy program (The Naked Gun 2½: The Smell of Fear) or bombing the Academy Award ceremony (Naked Gun 33⅓: The Final Insult). Indeed, the gratuitous appearance of celebrities such as Mariel Hemingway or Raquel Welch in the last instalment of the trilogy makes you wish Rocco (I quite liked the guy) had succeeded in his mission — but not before the multi-talented Lieutenant Frank Drebin (Leslie Nielsen) takes part in Pia Zadora’s chorus line.

According to IMDb, the opening scene of Naked Gun 33⅓ was originally meant to be used in the first movie.