12 Days of Christmas

My boyfriend is a mathematician. He doesn't like Christmas carols, so I sing them to him all the time. This one piqued his interest, though, when I asked him to tell me the formula for finding out how many presents the singer receives over the 12 days of Christmas.

In case you don't know the song, the lyrics are below.

The formula is:
n(13-n) where 'n' is the number of days/item ID
For example, on the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me five golden rings = 5(13-5) = 5 x 8 = 40 so over the 12 days of Christmas the singer will receive 40 golden rings. Interestingly the most of anything the singer will receive is 42 geese a-laying and 42 swans a-swimming.

The 12 Days of Christmas
On the first day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
A partridge in a pear tree.

On the second day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the third day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the fourth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the fifth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the sixth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the seventh day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the eighth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the ninth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Nine ladies dancing,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the tenth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Ten lords a-leaping,
Nine ladies dancing,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the eleventh day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Eleven pipers piping,
Ten lords a-leaping,
Nine ladies dancing,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the twelfth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Twelve drummers drumming,
Eleven pipers piping,
Ten lords a-leaping,
Nine ladies dancing,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree!

The Coast Track (walk)

Otford to Bundeena on foot
Royal National Park, NSW (27-28th November, 2010)

History: The Coast Track and I
I have always, for reasons unknown to me, done this walk Bundeena to Otford. The first time I did this walk it was for the expedition hike for the bronze Duke of Edinburgh Award in 1994. We had a group of six and we camped by a beautiful stream at Curracurrang (sadly, the campsite has since been closed for regeneration). The four most distinct things I remember from that trip was: "Code red, code red, alphabet soup in the river!"; The Platform of a Million Rocks; the lovely holiday homemakers who gave us each a drink of cold water after we climbed the big hill; "it feels like you're at the end of the world".

I have since done the walk a couple more times before this recent trip; once as a practice/bonding hike before I went to Nepal in 1998, which was fairly unremarkable (in fact, I remember very little about it) and again in 2003 with Assie, Robert (my boyfriend at the time) and a couple of his friends. That trip was memorable for a couple of reasons. My friend Ross, famous for being late, had slept in and missed the rendezvous at Central Station. We caught the train and the ferry without him. But so determined was he to do the walk the he, an hour behind, caught up with us at lunchtime by running the first half of the track.

While the walk is a relatively short 26km, do-able in a day, it is best done over two days; however, we'd decided to do it in three over the Easter long weekend so we could spend more time hanging out at the beach. This involved a little bit of illegal camping at Wattamolla and legal camping at North Era (no one can tell me why it's illegal to camp at Wattamolla; it has all the amenities and some really nice, flat, grassy campsites). Unfortunately, our plans were dashed by the inclement weather: it pretty much rained the entire time and the track was muddy and/or slippery and walking in rain gear when it's still quite hot and humid is never fun.

Despite this final memory, despite knowing about the proliferation of spiky plants, and knowing how the exposed track means a hour's walk can quickly turn into sunburn, and knowing about the two massive hills, I decided I'd like to do it again.

The Proposal
Why? Because the views are stunning. Because at some parts you feel like you are the only people there. Because this is the hardest easy or the easiest hard two-day walk I know. And you barely need a map.

I started with an invitation to five other people, but we ended up with a group of three. I've never walked in such a small group before, but it turned out really well. My companions were a Dutch acquaintance, Reni, and my high school friend Gloria (with whom I want to do the Henro Michi). Both had considerable experience, which made me nervous because I hadn't done a walk for some time and therefore felt comparatively unfit.

This time I decided we'd do the walk Otford to Bundeena. This was for two reasons: someone once told me it was 'easier' to do it in that direction (I was sceptical, after all, there are just as many climbs both ways) and also I had bought camping permits for the 26th (North Era) and, since we planned to camp at Wattamolla, our excuse was going to be that we'd camped at North Era the night before but couldn't make it to Bundeena by nightfall on the second day, so decided to camp at Wattamolla instead. Naughty, I know.

Saturday
We had a disjointed start - Reni alighted the Otford train from her home station of Edgecliff, I came on at Town Hall as it was the easiest at which to change platforms, and Gloria boarded at Central after jogging from Forest Lodge (two suburbs away) after a late start - but after getting acquainted on the hour-long trip we stepped onto the track with some confidence.

The first thing that greeted us was a steep driveway-like paved track. Did I mention it was steep? At this point I realised that my new pack, bought for its versatility as backpacker luggage AND a rucksack was very much in the former category. All the weight was wrongly distributed. Nevertheless I laboured on.

The first hour or so is quite dense scrub, otherwise known as the Burning Palms section. I never really paid much attention to this bit because, having travelled from Bundeena, this was the bit that was in my way when all I wanted to do was get to the end. But it was a nice morning's walk, shady and cool, and suitably 'bush' like. The track then enters the littoral zone. The littoral zone consists of sandy parts, rather exposed areas, and spiky plants.

From Burning Palms Beach to North Era There are a fair number of holiday houses and the ground is either open or the scrub is quite low, which meant minimal spiky plant injuries but more exposure. Despite slathering ourselves in sunscreen, there was always a bit of doubt about whether we'd burn. Fortunately, a nice northern breeze reduced the heat, which made the walking temperature rather pleasant.

We met a bunch of blokes halfway up a hill wheeling down a fridge. This, my friends, is one of the drawbacks of living in a remote area only accessible on foot. Unfortunately, the very spot they'd decided to rest was right in front of a sign and the entrance to the track that we were supposed to be following. Fortunately we met another local a bit further up who we chatted to for a bit, and he led us back to the junction and set us on the right path.

There are two major hills on this walk, and they both occur around Garie Beach. The first one comes just after North Era Beach. Technically, there are two ways to get to Little Garie Beach: up and over, or around the cliff. The around the cliff option, fondly cursed as 'The Platform of a Million Rocks', has since been closed due to rock falling hazards, so up and over it had to be. It almost killed me. Evidently I was still suffering from wrongly-weighted-pack and not-as-fit-as-I'd-like-to-be syndrome.

The second one might have finished off the job had it not been for the fact that it was on the other side of (big) Garie Beach and we'd stopped at Garie Beach for lunch and Gloria bought me a Lifesaver ice block. I was also rather alarmed at the rate I was going through my water so we filled up at the amenities block (the water is not potable but I'd brought aqueous iodine to purify questionable fluid). This proved helpful for when we struggled up the second hill and rewarded ourselves with a break at the top (right).

After that it was fairly easygoing with the clifftop path fairly flat, and steel walkways making the inclines easier to handle. Two spots of interest to note, Eagle Rock (which I reckon looks more like a turtle), and Curracurrang, which I remember from the first time I did this walk. Gratefully, we stumbled into the Wattamolla picnic area (well, I stumbled, the other two strolled).

Eagle Rock looks more like a turtle

We ended up parking our tents along a pathway to Providential Cove, which was still quite grassy and clear but out of sight from the main part of the picnic area and carpark in case a ranger spotted us, despite having a cover story ready. Annoyingly, a neighbourhood of tents was set up further along, belonging to a commercial operation. So, no camping at Wattamolla unless you're prepared to pay $265?

Sunday
Had a pretty good night's sleep. I liked waking up to little birds that sung 'oi' to each other. We intended to leave at about 8.30am to catch the cool early morning walking weather but between breakfast, exploring Wattamolla and lazily packing up we ended up leaving at about 9.15am.

Wattamolla Beach

We needn't have worried. The map promised an easy, quite flat clifftop walk with very little incline and that's exactly how we found it. It was quite humid but the sky was overcast, which made for a cooler day and it sprinkled on and off as we walked. It took 90 minutes to get to Marley Beach. We weren't too hungry or tired but ended up spending half an hour beside the lagoon teasing the magpies.

Actually, I forgot to mention this, but I noticed a lot of dead birds washed up on the beach, like some kind of burial ground. A lot of them look like pigeons (grey) and some of them look like magpies (black). Most of them are partially buried in the sand. Our theory is that there was a storm out to sea, which killed them and their bodies have washed up on the shore. It's quite distressing and I really didn't want to take a picture, but did anyway in case no one believed me. The worst area was Little Marley Beach where some of the birds had been reduced to partial skeletons and the stench was overwhelming.

The period after morning break was over way too quickly. There were a couple of scenic spots but it was half flat, easy scrubland. We reached the Bundeena side of the track in a little over an hour without so much as breaking a sweat. The amusing part was the Coastal Track sign, under which someone had written 'don't do it'.



The Verdict
Things I would change (but not necessarily lessons for future walks): If I knew what I wasn't going to use, I wouldn't have carried my sleeping bag (too hot, sleeping sheet was adequate), waste-burying trowel, or toilet paper.

Lessons for future walks: I should use a proper rucksack instead of a travelling hybrid as the weight distribution did no favours to my thighs or my shoulders.

Definitely do the track starting at Otford heading to Bundeena. That way, all the hard stuff is over on the first day and you have a cruisy half-day to look forward to on the second.

Bring a swimsuit to hang out at any number of the lagoons or beaches. Maybe consider walking in and then getting picked up/driving out at the other.

The Social Network (film)

The first thing I must mention is that I am not on Facebook and have never been on Facebook, so any profile you find bearing my name is not me. (My name does, however, appear as a group you can join, an in-joke by my friends).

The second thing I will mention is that I think 'The Social Network' is a stupid name for a film. I'd be quite tempted to call it 'Hackface' or 'About Face' or even just 'The Network' instead. These aren't very good names for films either but they are better than 'The Social Network'.

Given these aspects, why did I want to see a film ostensibly about Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg? Well, because despite escaping the Facebook trap, I do recognise how it has changed the way people network online and I wanted to know Hollywood's take on what Zuckerberg was like, ie how they would present the character of Zuckerberg as a plausible programmer, one creative and talented enough to start a website that has become so crucial to social networking.

I took director David Fincher's film as *very* loosely based on the creation of Facebook. For all intents and purposes, the most dramatic parts of the film I assumed were exaggerated or fiction. Had this film been a biopic, it would've been boring as batshit. After all, who wants to watch the Zuckerberg character grow pasty in a back room after sitting at a computer all summer? Thankfully, Fincher treads the fine line between improbability and plausibility with some confidence, and Alan Sorkin's snappy dialogue takes the film to another level beyond the biopic and beyond most other films about computer nerds.

This is not a memoirish look at Zuckerberg. In fact, I was impressed that it had a surprisingly firm beginning, middle and end. This is about how Facebook could have plausibly sprung from the brain and fingertips of someone like Zuckerberg, an attempt, if you will, to put its birth into some form of context. For Fincher, it centres on Zuckerberg's breakup with a girl called Erica, who Zuckerberg is never quite over despite defaming her over the internet post-breakup, and his desire to be invited to a final club (I had to look up what a final club was - they are not usual for Australian universities as far as I can tell). This, I thought, was a bit extreme. They may have been contributing motivations, but not the main driver.

As a film it fares well on the back of some apt casting and solid performances. Jesse Eisenberg's Zuckerberg is believable in his arrogance, indifference, creativity and vulnerability - a difficult mix for much more experienced actors and one combined eerily well in him. The support cast is also exceptional, from the 'Harvard gentlemen athletes' of the Winklevoss twins (who successfully sued Zuckerberg for $65 million for stealing their idea to create a Harvard network) to Justin Timberlake as Napster's Sean Parker (he did such a good job I didn't recognise him).

Also in its favour is the eschewing of realistic, pedestrian conversation for zippy dialogue containing memorable repartee and some gems of one-liners. The scene where Zuckerberg runs a hacking competition for Facebook intern applicants is priceless.

All up, the film's disadvantages, such as the legal stuff, were well traversed, interspliced with the meat of the story, the 'flashbacks'. Fincher has done well to make all these parts a watchable whole, fascinating and plausible without being burdened by truth or reality.

Flim rating: 9/10
Enjoyment rating: 8/10

This Is Not Art (festival)

Or, as I accidentally read the program, 'This is no tart'.

It started awesomely when we missed the train. The 7.20am from Artarmon that would get us to Hornsby for the train that would get us to Newcastle by 10am-ish, that is. I resigned myself to the fact that we would just have to get into Newcastle an hour later. We caught the next train, which was to Hornsby via Epping, then realised that the Newcastle train stopped at Epping too. We agreed to dash to the platform and hope for the best; research indicated that the Newcastle train was due to arrive at Epping at 7.46am and that the train we were on was due to arrive at 7.48am. By some miracle our train was slightly ahead and the Newcastle train was slightly behind and we made it. Best train story ever.

So we got to Newcastle. My 'home away from home' ie the Newcastle YHA, had been booked out so we found ourselves at The Oriental, a nice place above a pub in Cooks Hill. I'd definitely consider staying there again if the YHA was unavailable. Clean, with modern fixtures, good location and the pub shuts at midnight.

So, TINA. I didn't feel like I went to many panels this year, but here's a summary of what I got up to...

SATURDAY

Words that sell: About successful freelancing. Unfortunately didn't tell me anything I didn't already know (except maybe to beware of writing for Reader's Digest). Cameron Pegg was entertaining, though, and said some reaffirming things about writing to a niche.

How to get along with your editor or writer: Interesting exchange of anecdotes and a few tips for working with both, which will be helpful for my day job as a editor (and *fingers crossed* my future career as a novelist). Always nice to hear contributions from all ends of the publishing spectrum.

I'm a writer but nothing's ever happened to me: This was debunking the fallacy 'write what you know'. I've always wanted to tell younger writers (I mean the 10-14 year olds) that 'what you know' isn't just about the things that happen in your life. It's about the feelings that you feel that can be transposed onto any number of characters one can invent. Quote of the session: "Life doesn't have to be exciting to be interesting."

Breaking the rules: Writing exercises for tangential thinking. But, as Boff said, "It didn't actually break any rules." I felt this could've been taken to another level, which I probably will take it to with my writing group.

SUNDAY

Sunday Fair: I love the Sunday Fair! I do tend to stick to zines and publication-based wares because while all the clothes and jewellery are great to look at, I really don't need another Scrabble pendant. Also, I set myself a budget and the non-zine wares tend to be more expensive, which means I can't buy as many zines.

Finds of the fair: 'Lifted Brow' (I've heard about this compilation for ages but can never find it), 'One girl and her brother 210' (also online) and 'Just Quit It'. Honourable mention to poet and spoken word artist Mandy Beaumont.

I should have read that by now: Essentially a help group for people who think they should read certain things. Cure: recognise you're an individual and that you have individual reading tastes.

Books I keep meaning to read: 'My Brilliant Career' (have started it three times and just can't get past the first few pages), 'Great Expectations' (own it but forget it's there. Funnily enough, have read its 'prequel', 'Wide Sargasso Sea'), anything by Dostoevsky (to see what all the fuss is about).

Three: Radio play done specifically incorporating visual performance. The work itself was too poetic to be a cohesive narrative, but the discussion at the end was a really interesting insight into the working relationship of three poets producing one work and the collaboration required for the final entity. Could you work with a no-holds-barred editng process?

Authenticity vs Experience: Promised to be a helpful panel for YA novelists trying to capture a YA voice but strayed off-topic quite a bit. Picked up a couple of tips and was quite entertained by the rest of it. Basically, if you have a YA character, s/he is a character first before a youth. Build the character and the rest will come.

Spelling Bee: Oh god. Boff put my name in the jar and I was up first round. Came third in the end (beating last year's winner Geoff Lemon!). Words I had to spell to get there: 'brooch', 'jurisprudence', 'euchre' and (the one I didn't get because I've never encountered it before) 'abecedarian'. Minor fame ensued. In between rounds they did a 'Who am I?' with dinosaurs and Boff managed to win a schooner of beer, which he gave to me (mistake). He and Mr Newcastle also argued about paleontology. *sigh*

Is it time to go home yet? The set presenters were a good mix. Will Kostakis talked about doing a school visit following a big night out; Rochelle Jackson spoke about rubbing shoulders with crims as an investigative journalist; Mandy Beaumont read some pieces about how a relationship ends if the sex isn't good enough; and Patrick O'Neil, well, his recent travels were made for this session.

The best part, however, was the audience participation at the end. We had Brisbanites doing an interpretive dance of West End domestic violence (see below), an anecdote about visiting a floating strip club in Serbia, a runaway story and, my favourite, a guy who wrote about an encounter with some suspect cops in Victoria Park (Sydney): "Like the human body, the pond in Victoria Park is made up of 70% water. The other 30% consists of broken glass and eels." Too true...



MONDAY

So you think you can pitch? Straightforward advice about pitching to a publishing house, a session by Text editor Caro Cooper. Most of it was fairly sensible, more or less things I would have done anyway (i.e. if the publishing house offers guidelines, follow them; don't do gimmicks; make it as easy as possible for them to like you). However, some of it was helpful advice on how to jump the slush pile: for example, get an existing author's endorsement, use an agent, pitch to a specific publication date to tie in with an event (< this goes for non-fiction, mainly).

Bio Bootcamp: A lot of don'ts for writing an author bio. Boff spent the entire time wondering what the purpose of an author bio was; I had to straighten him out later because it turns out he never reads author bios, therefore doesn't understand their function.

I had a great time, as usual, but I have started to feel that I've outgrown a lot of it. I'm not saying that I've accomplished everything I need to accomplish in the world of writing/art, but I think in the main, TINA has taken me as far as it can. Next year, I'll still be going up, but I might pick more discussion panels about topical issues rather than writing how-to sessions.

Festival rating: 8/10
Enjoyment rating: 9/10

Inception (film)

I love Christopher Nolan. He is without doubt my favourite director. 'Memento' and 'The Prestige' certainly rate in my list of favourite films - I even own them on DVD (for those who know me, I have a very small, select DVD collection of movies I'd watch again and again). Another I'll be adding when it comes out is 'Inception', Nolan's latest blockbuster.

Now, the word 'blockbuster' is quite a deceptive word. It implies brainless action and a big budget. I'm going to take out 'brainless' from that inference because what you get from 'Inception' is something that has been thought out very carefully but shaped into a heist thriller entirely relevant for the medium. It is one of the very few movies around that has not come from a book, a graphic novel, a TV show, another movie, someone's life or an actual event, so it wins on originality.

The second area it excels in is the narrative style. Nolan focuses on the protagonist, Dom Cobb (Leonardo di Caprio), such that during the film we discover more about him than any other character. This is his film. Essentially it's the story of Cobb, who specialises in stealing ideas when victims are in a dream state. After a job goes wrong, he is hired to complete a more difficult task - to plant an idea - to pay his way home.

Nolan is firm about the rules of the dream world: who is dreaming, who is populating the dream and how and what happens when you wake up. This means, when you watch carefully, everything actually makes sense no matter how confusing it may appear at first. This is very important because it allows the audience to suspend any disbelief despite the fact that you'd expect disbelief in a movie about dreams. There's no obscure reasoning hiding in trickery here.

Lastly, the casting is extraordinary in this film, which meant that the characters were quite vivid despite the fact that it is Cobb's film. And the reason it is Cobb's film becomes apparent in the ambiguous ending (no spoilers here), which is trademark Nolan. Never has sitting in a grey area been so comfortable.

'Inception' was style, substance, people who could act and authenticity all in the one film and deserves all the praise and hype it has been getting.

Film rating: 9/10
Enjoyment rating: 10/10

It's Beijing but not as I dreamt it

All the HP delegates had dinner at the LAN Club, which is a very swish
place not too far from the hotel (they still hired two buses for us
all, though). The pic shown here isn't mine, it's stolen from the NY
Times but I took an almost identical picture that I can't seem to get
off my camera because it's on the camera memory, not the SD card. It
had very Melbourne decor, as you can see, sort of like a cross between
Cookie and Order of Melbourne. Fortunately it wasn't a long night so
here I am and it's has only just gone 10pm.

Okay, the saga yesterday. Forget for a moment that I went to bed at
about 1.30am and woke up at 5.45am. I made it to the airport via train
okay, then had to spend about 10 minutes trying to figure out how I'd
fit my roller bag into my yellow sack when I went to Japan before
realising that I'd tried to put it in the wrong way. I checked in, and
only then discovered that the front part of the sole of my shoe had
come loose so it was flapping when I walked. I went around the
terminal looking for sticky tape and the guy at the Lonely Planet
store suggested getting medical tape at the chemist.

It was a brilliant idea, brilliant until I unfurled the tape and then
discovered that it didn't just rip like I thought it would. So I
hobbled around trying to find someone with a pair of scissors because
of course I'd already checked in all my sharp implements. Eventually I
found a jewellery store that let me use the teeth of their sticky tape
dispenser to saw off the bandage tape. It was quite embarrassing.

Flight to Shanghai was okay. I got a middle aisle seat and the seat
next to me was empty, but I noticed the seats didn't have footrests
and only reclined about 5 degrees. I read the May issue of Empire
magazine for the most part, then slept for a couple of hours before I
started flicking through the video channels. I should mention that in
the inflight guide, the only English movies they said were showing
were 'Harry Potter 6' and 'Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs' but then
I found a weird French film, which I then discovered was '17 Again'
dubbed in French (I did find the English version and watch the last
third) and also the Renee Zellweger/ Harry Connick Jr flick 'New in
Town' (had to look up the title because I remember adamantly not
wanting to see it after I'd seen the trailer).

The transit in Shanghai was v short after checking through customs and
immigration. I was practically dying of thirst, though, so I bought a
bottle of flavoured tea (I know tea's a diuretic, but I didn't know
what anything else was). They had these sterilised water stations all
around the terminal, but I couldn't figure out how to use them. They
had a paper cup dispenser with words in Chinese and English: "Paper
cup to be used only for cold water" but I couldn't find the cold water
button. It just said 'warm', 'warm' and 'hot' with a digital reading
that said 99, which I took to be 99 degrees.

So we all got on the plane. I became very interested in a caucasian
businessman who looked very out of place among non-businesspeople and
Asians (there were non-Asian non-businesspeople and Asian
businesspeople but he was the only one who was both). Turns out he was
German, or at least read a German magazine with fluency, and he didn't
know much Mandarin because he spoke in English to the flight
attendants.

Long story short, the plane was delayed by 2 hours when we were
already all buckled up ready to go. I slept for the most part (v
uncomfortably) except to cram as much water down my throat as
possible. I also thought the people who were supposed to meet me at
the airport might leave me to my own devices and I'd have to catch a
taxi on my own (I HATE midnight taxi runs in foreign countries where I
can't speak the language). Fortunately that wasn't the case: instead I
was bundled into a black Mercedes and taken via some long expressway
to god-knows-where, which ended up being the JW Marriott.

They gave me the wrong floor access with my room key (I'm in 1816 -
level 18, room 16 - and they gave me access to level 16 instead) and
can I tell you it is so damn difficult to explain something like that
when all you've read is the Lonely Planet Mandarin phrasebook and are
really, really, really, really frickin' tired. Eventually I made it
with the help of an English-speaking concierge who reconfigured my
room key and took me up. I went through all the emotions associated
with getting free internet and then discovering I couldn't Tweet nor
blog and then I had a shower and went to sleep.

Today was a pretty good day. Too, too early a start, though. Had a
meagre brekky because I thought I was late but then ended up hanging
around for almost 30 mins before the keynote speaker. We then divided
into groups. I met David Flynn (SMH freelancer) and Jacqui (HP rep
from Melbourne) and we were put in a group with Malaysia, Singapore,
Indonesia and India. The Indian journos were quite annoying because
they were asking a lot of questions that seemed irrelevant but then I
thought about it and realised that their SME market (emerging) is
completely different from ours (mature) so some of the concepts, such
as paying extra for convenience, or for cash flow purposes, were
foreign to them.

Overall a well-run day. I particularly enjoyed the Enviro session, not
just because I'm a greenie but because I asked some hard questions and
am quite satisfied that HP is the leading printer company in the green
space.

Anyway, gotta go file some stories now - and not just the HP ones,
unfortunately.

Sydney Festival - Week 3b (festival)

Sydney Festival
Various venues, Sydney (9-30th January, 2010)


Rogue's Gallery by Hal Willner
Sydney Opera House Forecourt (28 Jan)


I bought tix to Rogue's Gallery because the concept sounded fascinating, a retrospective, if you will, of sea shanties and ballads to warm the cockles. Besides which, Sir, my impoverished but pirate-loving flatmate, even saw sense in shelling out big bucks for this gig. And because I'd bought so frickin' many Sydney Festival tix, I was entitled to a 20% discount which saw the price drop from $140 to $116, an extra bonus.

In the lead up to the date, I then discovered how very awesome the lineup was: in addition to the unexpected but welcome appearance of actor Tim Robbins, there were stalwarts like Marianne Faithfull and Peter Garrett as well as crowd favourites Camille O'Sullivan and Sarah Blasko. It was going to be a musical bonanza.

Now, I'd retired home from work at 3-ish due to oncoming illness and general fatigue but couldn't nap cos of some inconsiderate power gardening going on outside. I give you this context because when the rain came buffeting down on us as we sat on the hard steps of the Sydney Opera House Forecourt (not a very comfortable place, mind you) I was kind of resigned to enduring the gig rather than fully embracing it.

It didn't start off well. Some artist named Baby Gramps sang some incomprehensible country-style twaddle that didn't even sound like it'd ever heard of the sea and hogged the stage for a good 10 minutes. Sir and I sighed with relief as he was replaced by Peter Garrett, best known as former Midnight Oil frontman (before his current stint as Minister for the Environment, Heritage and the Arts). Who knew that Garrett had a pirate voice? He was surprisingly good, though I thought he could've dressed more piratish to get us all in the mood.

I won't disseminate the whole gig for you but I will provide you with highlights and lowlights. On the up side was the delightful Camille O'Sullivan and Todd Rundgren, who both brought the right attitude and a bit of panache to the whole evening. Camille was wench-like in her flirtation with the audience, while Todd was suitably charismatic as a veritable captain of a ship. Their pairing on 'The Good Ship Venus' was a killer and there should have been more of that sort of thing.

Honourable mentions go to local gals Katy Steele and Sarah Blasko, whose steady, worldly voices encapsulated journeys around the world in each of their pieces. Gavin Friday and Liam Finn also impressed; Gavin especially with his filthy shanty about whores - ha! They both had the spirit of the night at the right level, giving as much to the crowd, which had already endured thunder, rain and lightning, as the crowd was pumping onto the stage.

Peaches' appearance was also suitably chaotic with a troupe of dancers in costume parading about the stage. The rest of the show would have been much livelier - colourful, rowdy - following her lead.

On the down side there was Marianne Faithfull, overhyped and underperforming in such an achingly obvious way (reading the lyrics off the song sheet, anyone?). Marry Waterson's a capella was unfortunately interrupted by the departure toot of the Diamond Princess, but it didn't excuse the fact that she sung the beautiful ballad mostly offkey. I mean, if you're going to sing a cappella, you have to be able to hit the notes, right?

David Thomas also failed to hit the right notes, growling his way through his numbers. I don't know anything about David Thomas as an artist, so I don't know if this was expected, but it just brought an unwelcome edge to the show. Look, I understand that pirates are supposed to be gruff-voiced, but you'd think you'd at least be able to hear the words.

Neither up nor down were Tim Robbins, Glenn Richards and Kami Thompson. Tim wasn't a bad singer nor guitarist, but there was no real flavour to his performances, and I can't even remember Glenn Richards being there, so unmarked was his contribution. Kami did a competent job of her part, but again, nothing of note.

Overall the show was an uneven collection of performances. If the 'shambles' were more colourful I could have forgiven it, but it seemed like two-fifths of the company were unable to muster enough energy to get into the spirit of things. I expected a bit more pluck, a bit more Peaches-like rowdiness and filthy fun songs good for a singalong. We needed this night to be rollicking and Rogue's Gallery did not provide this in the quantities required.

We came in the wind and the rain and the thunder and the lightning but the Rogues had battened down the hatches and left us with a damp show.

Gig rating: 6/10
Enjoyment rating: 7/10


Six Characters in Search of an Author by Headlong Theatre
York Theatre, Seymour Centre (30 Jan)

I'd never read Pirandello's original of this play, but the premise of characters looking for an author harks back to my cultural studies education and almost made me want to return to university. Almost.

The start is a little unsettling, setting the scene as a documentary-maker struggles to get the footage she needs to finish off a piece on euthanasia. Tempers begin to fray in the editing suite when six people dressed in black enter the scene. After much confusion, it is established that they are characters, abandoned by their author. Against her better judgement, the filmmaker allows the patriarch to tell his tale, which is then interrupted and twisted by each of the characters in turn. Things come to a head when she begins to recreate their story on film and they refuse to be recreated, insisting that they just are.

Throughout, I could see echoes of Beckett and Stoppard and this pleased me no end because I have always found discussions of existentialism most fruitful in theatre and literary demonstrations. There is also reference to 'Hamlet' - "To be or not to be" to describe the euthanasia that occurs in the doco as control over one's life, but also the "O what a rogue and peasant slave am I" soliloquy to illustrate the 'playing' metaphor - and a funny reference to the German 'Hamlet', which also played at the Sydney Festival.

It also reminded me of a Year 12 English unit I used to tutor, 'Telling the Truth'. I would give my students a reading of 'Rashomon: In a Grove' to illustrate how one event could have so many versions depending on the author of the story. The story from which the six characters derive undergoes a similar fragmentation as each brings their own attitude and bias to it, trying to bring the author, the filmmaker, onside. Everything thens twists away as the filmmaker herself becomes a character - which she is, in this play - and things go awry.

Outstanding performances by Catherine McCormack (the filmmaker) and Ian McDiarmid (the patriarch) make this production a real eye-opener of a play. Where many ensembles would make the premise seem contrived or even self-indulgent, Headlong's cast show a restraint that serves the corkscrew premise of the play well and bring everything to its poignant, razor sharp end.

I haven't seen a play that has made me think so much as this in a long while and I was surprised at the occasional bites of humour interspersed in the material. Not only did the troupe not make the mistake of taking the text too seriously, it gave complete control of meaning to the audience. Audience as author? Barthes would be proud.

Gig rating: 9/10
Enjoyment rating: 9/10

Sydney Festival - Week 3a (festival)

Sydney Festival
Various venues, Sydney (9-30th January, 2010)


Oedipus Loves You by Pan Pan Theatre
Everest Theatre, Seymour Centre (24 Jan)

I wanted to like this production, I really did. I eschewed the traditional 'Oedipus Rex' on the program for what promised to be a refreshing - even humorous - retelling of the classic Greek tragedy.

The first thing I saw when the curtain rose was a naked man, about 1.5m away from me. Curses be to the blight of the centre front row when this unexpectedly happens. The worst part was I'd been put in C row, thinking it was the third row, but apparently the theatre had done away with A and B.

Having recovered, I watched as the drama unfolded - in a very odd, haphazard way, I might add. This 'Oedipus' retelling was set in a suburban home, with all the premise of the original. But there was no majesty in Oedipus that put him at the head of a city, let alone his own household. The house seemed overrun with the activities of Antigone and Creon, who had formed a band, and the sage elderly mutterings of Tiresias.

But in the end I had no emotional connection with any of the characters. I actively disliked Jocasta and felt the others were just going through the motions that they were supposed to as scions of their Greek character namesakes. The actor who played Creon was the only one who got close to that fine balance between past character and present remodelling.

The use of video was engaging and one of the standout features of the set. It featured a camera focused on the bed and another in a studio where a video actor wrote and used objects to illustrate things further. The scene where the family go into 'therapy' was also well done, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that this was a clumsy attempt at a post-modern 'Oedipus' that failed to hit its mark.

(I could also never understand why no one thought it odd that Oedipus would marry a strange woman some 20 years his senior, mother or no.)

Gig rating: 6/10
Enjoyment rating: 6/10


Smoke & Mirrors
The Famous Spiegeltent, Hyde Park (25 Jan)

Cabaret and the Spiegeltent go hand in hand, so it was with great anticipation that my friends and I descended upon the Smoke & Mirrors performance. And iOTA took that buzz and rode it right through the show with unforgettable musical numbers (by himself and by Todd McKenney, and band) interspersed with theatrical acrobatics provided by ThisSideUp and Chelsea McGuffin and breathtaking (no, really) illusions by magician Timothy Woon.

The only thing I would question was the 'bearded lady' number by Queenie van de Zandt near the end. She is a great singer, but the fact that iOTA had already sung her song in the first half meant it was a repeat rather than a reprise. It would have been more powerful if the song were introduced earlier, but not sung in its entirety.

The crowd-pleaser was definitely ThisSideUp's 'strong man' act. What's not to like about three buff young men hamming it up on poles and showing their strength and skill? My friends all decided they had a crush on James.

One friend remarked that the show was too music-heavy. Compared to previous years' 'La Clique', which also featured physical acts such as contortionism, hula-hooping and burlesque, it was definitely music-led, but I thought iOTA did a great job turning the dark quirkiness of the circus/cabaret into song and personally hope that he will release an album of the show's tunes. I was surprised to learn he'd written everything but Todd McKenney's two vaudeville numbers so rich was the music, steeped in the murky 1920s.

Overall, the performances, the music and the costumes were spot on, so I'm not surprised the three weeks of the show sold out so quickly - otherwise I would have gone again.

Gig rating: 9/10
Enjoyment rating: 10/10


Dirty Three and Laughing Clowns
The Enmore Theatre, Enmore (26 Jan)


Other than wear green undies, seeing these two Australian bands was the only Australian thing I did on Australia Day on account of having just $7.50 to my name (I was deciding whether to buy beer or gelato but ended up with neither).

I was pretty early into the moshpit and staked out a spot about a third of the way back from the centre of the stage, sitting and reading a book (well, I was going to be standing for three hours, so had to get my sitting in), but when the lights went down it was ridiculous to leave so much room, so I ended up three rows back for Laughing Clowns.

I didn't know anything about Laughing Clowns, other than they were Australian, so I was pleasantly surprised to find myself folded into their punk-ish, rock-ish world with some really curly lyrics off their 'History of Rock ‘n’ Roll Vol. 1' album. I took particular note of drummer Jeffrey Wegener because I thought he was a genius on the kit. Seems weird to write it, but I felt he and the drums were one being. (How very Zen!). Their set was epic.

I then found out I was standing next to an acquaintance of mine, another festival junkie, so we spent the break swapping notes about other events and complaining about being on our feet, which passed the time quite nicely.

Dirty Three then swaggered onto the stage. I don't think a band that contains Warren Ellis (violinist) could possibly go anywhere without swaggering. He may possibly be a nutbag, but by god he's good on the strings. I mean, violins are meant for sweet serenading, right? They don't get angry unless it's the 1812 Overture or something. But no, there's nothing quite so expressive as a punk violin. The skill is in having the notes rip at your sensibilities without grating on your ears, and that's the beauty of Dirty Three.

Was quite amused by Mick Turner's (guitarist) comparatively placid playing next to the shenanigan that was Warren, stamping and striking his way through their 1998 album 'Ocean Songs'. (Can shenanigan be used in the singular? Never mind.)

Just as amusing were Warren's introductions to each of the pieces, for example: "This song is like that time that you had to live in a hallway for five years and you discover it's a hole. But you fill it with furniture and make it all nice with pictures. And then you think back years later and go 'geez, they were the best five years of my life'."

Simply searing - and that's not even taking into account the amount of sweat I saw and made all evening.

Gig rating: 8/10
Enjoyment rating: 7/10

Sydney Festival - Week 2 (festival)

Sydney Festival
Various venues, Sydney (9-30th January, 2010)


Jai Ho by AR Rahman
ABC TV / Parramatta Park (16 Jan)

I'd planned a public transport odyssey to Parramatta Park long before the Sydney Festival push, but a family emergency meant that I had to commute in from West Pennant Hills instead of Waverton and I wasn't likely to reach Parramatta Park before 7pm. The clincher was no services coming BACK after 10pm; without a car, I was stranded.

As a result, I ended up going to my crowd-phobic friend's place (actually, it was my Waverton flatmate who was at her parents' place in West Pennant Hills too) to watch the ABC telecast on a widescreen TV.

Jai Ho looked a colourful and well choreographed medley of hit after hit. Sir took the time to semi-translate the Hindi songs and also give me a big rundown of the musical pedigree of all the singers, plus the movies from which all the songs came, which gave the presentation solid context from which to view the spectacle.

The telecast was superb, switching focus among the musicians as well as showing shots of the crowd. On TV, the gig seemed much more intimate than the 70,000-strong audience should allow. (I feel I would have enjoyed it more by soaking up the vibe with some other friends who were there from 2pm, had I been able to go at that time, as the gate system meant if you arrived separately you'd be put in different sections.)

The colour and light of the performances, and the peaceful overtones of Rahman's songs was a poignant reminder of Indian talent, and you could not miss the friendship exuded by the troupe.

A feast for the eyes and ears, this gig seemed like a gift from Sydney Festival to the people of Western Sydney, particularly those of Indian descent, while opening the culture and the music to other Sydneysiders who may not be as familiar with Rahman.

(A side note: The chick who hosted the telecast kept pronouncing AR Rahman 'ramen' - like the Japanese noodle - when it's 'ray-mahn'. You would THINK she would learn it before mispronouncing it to the whole of Australia and some of the world...)

Gig rating: 9/10
Enjoyment rating: 7/10


Camera Obscura
Beck's Festival Bar, Hyde Park Barracks (21 Jan)

Apart from The Famous Spiegeltent, the Beck's Festival Bar is my favourite Sydney Festival venue, beating out the likes of the Domain, the Sydney Opera House, The Carriageworks and The Seymour Centre. It's a tent beside a monument that, for most of the year, is a museum. An austere building that used to house the army (and other people throughout history) could not ask for a more exciting neighbour than the marquee that brings it to life every January.

Usually, I visit the Beck's Bar twice a festival (largely because I suspect the lineup there is curated by my favourite radio station FBi, whose taste is impeccable) but unfortunately this year I missed out on Grizzly Bear tix as they were incredibly popular. So Camera Obscura was it.

The thing I love about the Beck's gigs is that they almost inevitably feature some artist you kind of know but not intimately (some exceptions, but bear with me) so it's always a gig of discovery. Supporting Camera Obscura were the Popfrenzy DJs and The Slow Club, a lively duo of folk-pop goodness that got the dancefloor bopping. Unfortunately I had neglected to change my shoes from work so had to beware the red gravel but had a good, but oh-so-short bop-along. The Slow Club were only warming up so I think this calls for a show of their own next year, don't you?

Camera Obscura were sweet and true to their indie folk pop sensibilities. The roof of the marquee was different from years before, higher and more accommodating of hundreds of rhythmic jostling bodies that were simultaneously coping with a warm summer evening. And here's the funny thing: their music glided through the night as if it were created for warm Sydney nights instead of cold Glasgow ones. The gig was thus well suited and well constructed, the right setlist of new and old, popular and more obscure songs and the right amount of intra-band banter that made them endearing.

Alas, Sir and I succumbed to old people-itis, which is when we decided our feet hurt and we needed a sit-down. The Beck's Bar is good like that, especially this year when it provided us with plenty of areas to hang out in with long comfy seats and everything.

The only two gripes I have is: this year the new marquee has commandeered the best breakout spot, under the tree at the back, as part of the VIP area; a continuing gripe is the house beer, Beck's, is $7 (or $7.50... I don't recall exactly). A bit much considering they don't import it any more. Sir and I always have the same discussion every year - surely they could sell it for $5 and really make it a Beck's night? Oh well, it was just one bottle apiece.

Gig rating: 8/10
Enjoyment rating: 7/10

Sydney Festival - Week 1 (festival)

Sydney Festival
Various venues, Sydney (9-30th January, 2010)


Barely Contained by Circus Oz
Big Top, Tumbalong Park (9 Jan)

The first thing I noticed was the fact we had Row A seats, which meant if any performer misstepped, they were probably going to hit us. No one did, of course, but we did have a close call with Tom, who ended one flip staring closely at my companion and grinning, and I did get asked by Mel whether her bum looked big in the roo costume.

There was plenty of mayhem to keep amused for 90 minutes and each set was well-constructed with a nice balance of character and skill in each segment. While Circus Oz don't have the polish or awe-inspiring acrobatics of something like Cirque du Soleil (or the budget), they certainly have a lot of humour and irreverence, which I greatly enjoyed.

The win was definitely the endearing nature of the characters constructed through performance, something bigger acts tend to forget in favour of smick costumes. The dynamic of the cast was also a joy, and for a lot of it, it felt as if the audience were incidental to a bunch of performers having fun. Definitely worth the admission price.

Show rating: 8/10
Enjoyment rating: 8/10


Festival First Night
Various venues, Sydney (9 Jan)

My evening began when I headed up to Hyde Park to see Seekae. Although I'd caught them at Peats Ridge, I felt they could really kick start the festival vibe, which they did in style via a very interesting rendition of White Town's 'Your Woman'.

After their set I made my way to Martin Place to see Jay Katz and Mountain Mocha Kilimanjaro (below), a Japanese funk band I'd only heard of that morning when FBi radio played a track and I rang in and won a copy of their album. They were incredibly tight with their set and I was impressed at how energetic they were, considering the chilled out (albeit enthusiastic) nature of the crowd. Definitely a band to follow.


I returned to Hyde Park to see Bobby Singh and friends (including Circle of Rhythm and Band of Brothers) and The Manganiyar Seduction, an Indian group of some 40-odd musicians who sing and play instruments while encased in lit boxes (that's the best way I can describe their show).

Circle of Rhythm presented a complex timbre to a flight of beats, while Band of Brothers layered that loosely-defined 'world' music onto some skilled musicality, a deep understanding between the two sets of brothers that fed a exceptional dynamic.

Manganiyar was mesmerising, simultaneously an introduction to Indian singing and music as well as a display of its finest components. The set of lit boxes worked well to, by turns, highlight individual members of the group and bring them together. I felt as if I'd fallen into a trance while listening, and yet I also believed parts of my brain awakened upon hearing the woven sounds.

I was supposed to meet a friend but she bailed because it was really hot (that's what you get when you do Bollywood dancing in full sun), so I left after that and went to eat ice cream at Passionflower, foregoing Al Green in The Domain. I heard I missed a good show.

Night rating: 8/10
Enjoyment rating: 7/10


The Arrival by Red Leap Theatre
The Carriageworks, Eveleigh (10 Jan)

I was walking down Wilson Street, very close to The Carriageworks when I saw a man who looked remarkably like illustrator Shaun Tan alight from a taxi. I've seen him a few times at festivals (Sydney Writers, Melbourne Writers and National Young Writers) so I was pretty sure it was him but I didn't want to be caught staring. (Turns out it was him; he received thanks for his book 'The Arrival' at the end of the performance and was sitting just a few rows in front of me.)

If you've never 'read' the book (it's a wordless illustrated tome, how do you describe 'reading' that?), I suggest you at least have a flick through in a book shop prior to coming to the show to get an idea on what it's about. You will thus also appreciate the exquisite sets, which pay homage to his work but also work as practical scene-changing devices.

'The Arrival', like the book of the same name, is deliberately disorientating as the audience is taken on a journey of discovery akin to that of the protagonist, a man who leaves behind his family to search for comfort in a new land. To call it theatre is a misnomer; it is as much interpretive dance and performance art as it is a play. The most wonderful aspect is that it contains just enough humour, and a balanced dose of endearing charm, to outweigh any element that seems contrived.

What really worked was the encounters the protagonist had with the land's inhabitants and the segue as they 'tell' him their story, always done in a moving, beautifully dark way. I have to commend the ensemble, whose dynamic really shined throughout. The only thing I would criticise was the recorded sound, which was occasionally overbearing, and used a tad too often.

As a mostly wordless performance, I would recommend against going with, or sitting near, a kid who asks lots of questions about what's going on, which was the unfortunate position I found myself in. At least take them through the book before you go!

Show rating: 9/10
Enjoyment rating: 8/10


The Handsome Family
The Famous Spiegeltent, Hyde Park (15 Jan)

I'd heard a couple of songs by The Handsome Family, but still didn't know what to expect when I walked into The Famous Spiegeltent with my friend Ness (who also had no idea as I'd bought her the ticket for Christmas).

Brett and Rennie Sparks delivered 90 minutes of alt-country - the 'alternative' meaning 'more than slightly disturbing in a poetic kind of way' - using electric guitar (Brett), banjo/electric bass (Rennie) and pre-recorded drums (Mac laptop).

Although Rennie's humorous introduction buttered up the audience, the gig started slowly, a little sleepily, and I was afraid I might get bored by halfway through. I was wrong. Who could ever get bored with songs about bottomless holes in the garden, snakes and whiskey, and scenes in graveyards? And better yet, Rennie's hilarious introductions to each song? "I wanted to write a song about the night sky but instead it ended up being a song about how sad convenience stores are." The banter between husband and wife also kept things fresh and kooky.

Even if you only have a passing interest in their songs, definitely try and catch a Handsome Family show because these two are two-thirds country/folk musicians and one part comedy duo.

Gig rating: 7/10
Enjoyment rating: 8/10