Something depressing

Today's Age reports that a Coalition government would send drafters back to the drawing board on key aspects of the proposed national curriculum, particularly the history subjects, and speculates that the history wars of the period 1996-2007 might be reignited.

History is a messy stew of factors, given that it is ultimately the study of how people relate to each other and the world around them.  Why there should be an ideological objection to teaching about the role of trades unions and the Labour Party -- both of which were agents of social progress in Australian society -- when much school-level history is structured to analyse continuity and change?

There is a deeply unrealistic rhetoric going on here.  The reality is that no history syllabus will satisfy everyone, and the same goes for maths, English, literature, and art.  Perhaps it might be possible to find harmony over science curricula, but I wouldn't go holding my breath even then.  All teachers are different, each has a unique concept of their subject, and no two teachers can possibly be expected to approach every aspect of a subject in precisely the same way.  Politicians live under party discipline, which is why they expect everyone else to do likewise.  Thus began the history wars.

I think the biggest problem with the history curriculum in particular is that it tries to eradicate any sense of perspective in favor of the grand narrative.  Yes we need narrative, but we also need to learn how to think critically.  For this we need not only perspective, but the ability to think clearly about why particular points of view arise, and to be aware of our personal responses to them.  Otherwise we approach history like a certain type of Christian, believing quaintly that the Bible is all we need.  History is a communal thing, much like a balanced religious life -- but this involves confrontation with the messiness of human relationships, which by definition defy easy responses from ancient sources but become much easier to understand when we acknowledge differences of perspective.  What happens when the book is not enough?

Twelve months ago

Today it is twelve months since I submitted my dissertation.  At the time, I thought the examination might drag on for years, having heard a few horror stories.

There's a photo lurking around somewhere in my files of the moment when I signed the declaration in the examination copies of the thesis.  If memory serves, I looked very puffy (result of poor habits in the preceding month) and the camera gave me red eye.  So, puffy with lazer beams...

Now my biggest thesis-related worries are (in order): getting a book chapter off to an editor, getting two more articles together, settling on one of the five suitable projects to do next so I can apply for funding, and whether or not to get my testemur framed.  I've kept the last two rolled up in the filing cabinet, but I suspect this one really ought to be behind glass.

Lines that get very old very quickly

So, it's a week on since the graduation.  It all feels very final and settled at last.  I'm finally getting around to writing letters of thanks to various people.

But I have to say that there's one line that's getting very old quite rapidly.  I've lost count of the number of times I've been greeted this week with "Dr Crichton, I presume."

The novelty wore off about halfway through the first person cracking the line.

Perhaps if I was lost in Africa for a while it wouldn't be so bad, but that's a continent I've yet to visit.

I really wish someone would think up a new corny joke for newly-minted doctors...

Still, if you can't beat them -- embed something from youtube.  Here's a couple of Livingstone-inspired tracks.

Local Government

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When would you expect to see heavy traffic in Punt Road?

Weekdays in the mornings and evenings, certainly -- that's the usual rush hour.

What about weekends?  Don't us inner-city dwellers get a break from all those noxious gasses being expelled by stationary cars of a Saturday and Sunday afternoon?

No fear.

For six months of the year it is likely that there will be a weekend rush hour, focused around the times when football games begin and end at the MCG or Etihad Stadium (or whatever it's called right now).  Likewise in the summer, with cricket at the MCG and tennis in Flinders Park.

Frankly, I think there has to be a better way to manage traffic at regular sporting events in a way that improves the amenity of residents in the inner suburbs.  One way would be to build a major football ground in the middle-suburbs, but that was tried and Waverly Park is now a housing estate where once there was a large stadium with associated amenities such as parking and public transport links.

What appalls me is that the AFL is quite happy for people to travel in their cars to Jolimont and to pay a large fee for parking in the vicinity of the MCG when they arrive.  I think the preference for cars is a prime exampla of mindless corporate irresponsibility on the part of the AFL.  They have chosen to locate all their major football matches in the inner city, where there are major public transport links, and have done nothing to discourage their patrons from driving.  In short, the AFL needs to work with Metro to provide good park and ride facilities to avoid congestion in the inner city.

Here's how it might work.  Halve the amount of parking available in Yarra Park and the immediate area surrounding the MCG.  Hike prices up to the top of the market.  Enforce significant penalties to discourage parking in residential streets in East Melbourne, South Yarra, Richmond, Fitzroy and Collingwood.

Hire the carpark at the Caulfield Racecourse -- even if there is a meeting going on, the carpark is unlikely to be full.  Make a deal so that patrons park and receive a train ticket as part of the deal.

Metro should run express trains both ways every three minutes to Richmond making use of the platforms that are normally closed at the weekend.  There should be plenty of rolling stock available, given the poor frequency of services patrons are required to endure at the weekend.  The express journey should be around 12 minutes.  Trains could be shunted in the Jolimont railyards for the return trip, and there's a blind shunt at Caulfield for turning around at that end.

Similarly, parking facilities should be provided on the Epping and Hurstbridge lines -- perhaps the AFL could hire the Preston Market carpark and run express services from there to Jolimont, although it's not clear where trains would turn around at the Preston end.  The express journey from Preston to Jolimont would be somewhere around 15 minutes, assuming trains could maintain a good speed from point to point.

Likewise, for the north-west, patrons could park at the Flemington racecourse and a special train could be run from the station there to Richmond or Jolimont.

Getting patrons to the Etihad Stadium simply requires express trains to run into Southern Cross Station.

If the AFL is to continue to stage its events in the inner city, then it must work to provide better public transport links to the stations near its venues.  The present situation -- weekend traffic gridlock -- is completely unacceptable on environmental and social grounds.  The majority of people attending a football game accept the scientific argument about climate change, yet they support a corporation which blithely encourages the problem.

THE silliest thing said by anyone this week

Steve Fielding -- the Victorian Senator elected with a puny primary vote of 0.08% in 2004 -- has declared that he will block supply to a minority Labor government.  Whatever reasons there may be for opposing the formation of a continuing Labor government, this is surely the most myopic and intellectually lazy exercise to have been made public this week.  Mr Fielding represents a state which had a strong Labor vote in the electoral exercises of the last weekend.  He owes his seat to Labor preferences that were foolishly directed his way in the 2004 election.  He continues to bite the hand that feeds him.

If any single individual could justify Paul Keating's dismissal of the Senate as unrepresentative swill, Steve Fielding is that person.  His pronouncements have been a waste of reporting space in Hansard, with his perpetual hissy fits and cloth-eared dithering.  What's more, he voted in favor of so-called "voluntary student unionism" under the previous Coalition government.  This measure came into effect in my final year as an undergraduate, and I paid my services fee voluntarily and gladly.

This was a wicked law calculated directly to harm the interests of one of Australia's more marginalized constituencies: university students.  It was directed at student unions.  Billy Hughes John Howard had an irrational hatred of anything involving the word union, so in spite of the fact that campus student unions are not notable for calling strikes and causing unrest in the building industry, he decided to launch a pre-emptive swing instead.  Those well-heeled yahoos in the Young Liberals promoted this law with all the zeal of turkeys who had never heard of their fate in anticipation of Christmas lunch, while Brendan Nelson emoted about how he'd had to work as a bricky's laborer to get through medical school while being extorted to the tune of $150 a year for services he never had time to access.  Boo hoo indeed -- I laboured away as a freelance musician throughout my undergraduate years, and made only sporadic contact with student union services and clubs.  I have never needed childcare to allow me to attend lectures, didn't ever require the services of on-campus medical clinics or dentistry, but did once need the help of a lawyer to resolve a motor insurance argument.  I'm sure I could have found other purposes for the $300 or so per year of study I paid in services levies, but does that mean I should desire the destruction of these things for others?

It is well documented that many students now work multiple part time jobs to support their studies, often to the detriment of their long-term career goals.  Student clubs -- which form part of the facilities offered by student unions -- are often one of the ways people get to use their leisure time while meeting people from other courses.

As a result of this law which passed the Senate with Mr Fielding's enthusiastic support, universities have been forced to step into the breach to fund basic services such as childcare, sports facilities, legal aid, help for international students and so on: the list of services is very lengthy and university funds are very finite.  If students are forced to opt out of lectures and classes because the facilities to allow them to attend have been withdrawn, how does this reflect on the policies of an Australian government that emphasised the need to turn out higher graduate numbers in key professions such as medicine, accountancy, teaching and engineering?  How is workplace participation improved when access to education and training is hampered by lack of support services?  How is the notion of having choices in one's life improved when your capacity to choose is perpetually determined by your ability to pay?

The unnecessary callousness of the previous government was boundless, and addressing the iniquities of their policies on university funding in general is the work of a generation or two.  But speaking as a recent graduate (well, for the third time, but who's counting?), the financial wreckage bequeathed to student welfare in universities is disastrous.  And Steve Fielding was cheerfully complicit in this.

He has a hide which will be tolerated for the remaining ten months of his term in the Senate.  He will not be missed when he goes, a day which cannot dawn soon enough.

An aquatic thought

Over the last few weeks, a certain former leader of the Australian Labour Party did service as a reporter on 60 Minutes.  Jonathon Holmes remarked in reply to Laurie Oakes's protest that this person isn't a journalist that it has been a very long time since 60 Minutes last had a display of good journalism.

This has set me thinking about the problem of intellectual sharks behaving like minnows.  What do you get when a shark cross-dresses as a minnow?  Mark Latham, apparently.

Music for Sunday 29 August 2010

Back to the ordinary Sundays again, at least for a little while.  This month, the parish has been out in red and white, although now I think about it, three of the five Sundays have been in green.


Last week we installed the first full choristers in the youth choir at All Saints, and hopefully there will be more to come in the next few weeks.  This necessitates a little tweaking of the rehearsal schedules; if I'm to make space for a new group of white level choristers, the light blue level ones will have be shifted into shorter sectional rehearsals.  It's a nice problem to have!

Readings for this week are linked here.  The psalm will be sung to Anglican chant.

The Mass setting for the week is Philip Mathias's Christ Church Mass (Together in Song, 757).  It's funny: the old choir complained bitterly about learning this setting last year, and there's only one poor dear left who thinks this was an outrageous and daft imposition when she was perfectly happy with Dudman.  Just about everyone else -- choir and congregation -- have found it a refreshing change.  I suppose it is nearly time to have the two settings in alternation from week to week.

Hymns for the week are as follows:

Introit: Praise, my soul, the King of heaven [134]
Gradual: All praise to our redeeming Lord [442 i]
Offertory: Robe yourself, my soul, in gladness [503]
Communion: Sweet sacrament divine

A few words

Here is the remembered and improved version of what I said at my graduation party yesterday afternoon.  Like all off-the-cuff speeches, there was a lot of inelegance and unfinished thoughts, so the themes are in the same order but the tying up at the end has been fixed into a more satisfactory knot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I think it's true to say that we can trace our journeys -- be they educational, personal or spiritual -- by evoking the memories and calling the names of people who have taken an interest in us along the way.  These are the people who say the right thing at the right moment, or who push one harder, pick you up and dust you off before sending you back into battle, and those who know when to stand back.  I would like to reflect for a few minutes on some of these relationships that I consider as key markers along the way, and what sort of qualities these represent.

As many of you here would know, I grew up in a small place in north-eastern Victoria called Violet Town.  One of the charms of this town is that, with one exception, all the streets are named for flowers.  Thus, I grew up in a house on the corner of Hyacinth Street and Tulip Street.  Among our near-neighbours was Mavis Errey, one of the matriarchs of the town who functioned as the organist for the local Uniting Church.  Mrs Errey's house was something of a salon, where higher cultural aspirations were carried out in the form of painting, embroidery, floral arrangement and music.  One of Mrs Errey's finest hours was the acquisition of a grand piano, a felicitous event which occurred while I was quite young.  I was fortunate that Mrs Errey's door was almost always open, and that she allowed me to explore the possibilities of her fine instrument -- even if this was composed mostly of disorganized thrashing in search of music-making.

Mrs Errey's special gift was one of encouragement, or perhaps to put it more accurately, of not being actively discouraging.  I think this embodies one of the first marks of a good mentor: to allow one to explore the potential of what lies around without the imposition of frivolous rules and limitations.  My early attempts at music-making may have been tiresome to endure, but without the encouragement which flowed from this, one can only speculate how things might have turned out.

Moving on a few years, the second relationship I would like to evoke here is another music teacher, Jean Starling.  My first meeting with Jean occurred when I was eleven years of age, and took my first piano exam with the AMEB in Shepparton.  I recall Jean as a very stern presence in the examination room, and came away wondering what she must be like as a teacher.  Roll on a few years more, and I discovered the answer to this question when I came to Jean as a student.  It's fair to say that I owe a great deal of what I am now able to do to her rather dramatic intervention in my technical development: at the first lesson she thrust a buff-covered book into my hands with the offhand remark that this was Dohnanyi and I would get used to him.  My mother once attended a lesson where we worked on Beethoven's c#-minor sonata (commonly known as the Moonlight).  Mum came away after two hours in Jean's company feeling horsewhipped -- and she had simply sat in the background.

Jean's particular way of pushing her students in the quality which defines this relationship, and I think this is an important one.  Mentors certainly give encouragement, but sometimes they have to dish up the challenges spiced with an exhortation to stretch one's self.  Pushing one to look higher, and work harder.  Picking one up out of the mud, dusting one off and sending you on your way.  That is a very important quality which Jean embodied powerfully in so many ways.

I think it would be churlish to exclude more recent mentoring relationships, of which I can number quite a few among the people in this room.  Rather risking excluding anyone present, I would like to reflect on my relationships with academic supervisors over the last seven years or so, as these are the relationships which have brought me to this stage.

I was fortunate to have a very strong supervisor in my masters project in Trish Shaw, who is now in the UK.  In so many ways, Trish's very active style of supervision consolidated the ways in which I have proceeded in my doctoral studies.

My doctoral supervisors -- Warren Bebbington and Kate Darian-Smith -- presented a slightly more liberal approach.  They were happy as long as I was writing.

Of course, doctoral supervisors can't do everything.  Here we have the company of three of the proof-readers who helped get the thesis to its final stages, and I think they deserve a round of applause in appreciation for putting up with a document that must have been quite a challenge on first encounter.

Among these relationships, there is a further quality which is probably the most important in a mentor.  This is the ability to hold faith with your capacity to pick yourself up and keep going.  A doctorate is a very long project, and many people do fall by the wayside.  Self-doubt is a very real part of the process precisely because what one does is an original project, a thought no-one else has explored in a particular way.  But only one person can do it.  Faith is part of the sustenance of a long project, and this comes from many sources.  Many of you here today have held faith with me, or at least watched with a combination of confidence and restrained bafflement, as things have unfolded over the last few years.

It's about ten days short of twelve months since I submitted the dissertation last year.  I'd like to conclude by answering the question that's been asked so many times over that time: what now?  Well, until recently the answer was simply: panic.  Now it's coming closer to breaking out in a cold sweat, although I intend to enjoy the rest of the afternoon with you before succumbing to threshold anxiety!  As many of you have remarked today, this is both an ending and a beginning.  I am closer to thinking about this as a staging point on the longer pilgrimage: the voyage across the sea has been accomplished, and now comes the trek to the first inn on the road.

Hung parliaments

I've just spent a couple of hours catching up on election coverage from the last couple of days.  I think the standard of political coverage over the last ten years or so has slipped into a diabolical state; with honorable exceptions, the main role of a journalist is to be the professional spitter of dummies.

What a debased spectacle the whole affair has been.  The premise of calling the election was truly unprecedented -- to ratify a change of leadership in the Australian Labour Party.  It was a very shoddy premise to be starting from.

I hope it does take a while to sort things out, as the longer it takes, the more likely we will see either the start of a renewal, or the beginning of the end, of the two-party system.  It has been a dead hand for almost as long as I can remember.

I disagree with the broader conclusion being drawn by many commentators and political journalists about the wider implications of the present electoral waiting game.  The fact is that the election campaign was a particularly intense expression of how far political debate in this country has atrophied in the present generation.  I think it would be prudent to welcome the opportunity for a renewal of ideology, except nobody in the media is equipped to deal with the style of argument this requires.

More to the point, if the independents play the game the right way, we might finally see a return to authentic Westminster parliamentary principles.

That would be a win for the whole country.

Scarlet day

It's been a big weekend.  There was a federal election on Saturday, but something much more important was going on up at Melbourne University.  I got to stand in front of the Chancellor and doff my hat.

Pre-ceremonial coffee fix done, getting dressed in the Brunetti robing room.

Dr Crichton re-evaluated the career of Franklin Peterson, second Ormond Professor of Music in the University of Melbourne, whose role in the development of music as a professionally-oriented discipline in the early twentieth century has been greatly underestimated.  Using many hitherto unknown documents, he showed how Peterson established a performance-based music degree, adopted through Australian Universities.

Off into the sunset?  More like the Grand Buffet for the post-ceremony bunfight.

The choice of day was largely determined by the game of diary co-ordination with my supervisors, being about the fourth time in five years where we've all been in the same room together.  One of them was acting Vice Chancellor for the day, so he was securely ensconced on the throne.  He sat behind the Chancellor while my citation was read, beaming out with a whimsical look.  I nearly lost it when I caught his eye.

Interior, Wilson Hall.  I was seated in the back row on the left.  The rather Jetsons-esque thrones are of recent make; the ceremonial chairs which formed part of the original furnishings were like TARDISes.  In accordance with Modernist principles, the original stage arrangements were resolutely asymmetrical.  Later developments have "set things right."  I suppose it's an improvement on sitting the important folks off in a corner.

I was so seized with suppressed mirth that I forgot to doff to the Dean of the School of Graduate Studies on the way back to my seat.  I'm told it didn't invalidate the rite, although it was a minor failure of decorum.

All I ask

...is that some bright spark at the ABC will get around to being consistent in loading the 7.30 Report onto iView the same night it is broadcast on the box.  Most of the programs archived on the website are from the previous day, and if one wishes to benefit from a fresh sighting of Kerry it really isn't good enough to be looking at a show that's 24 hours old.  The political commentary is stale the day after, not to mention out of date, given the shifting sands of electoral campaigning.

Yes, you can watch the current edition on the program website, but if you use that you have to watch the program short segments -- which are uploaded in reverse order.  My complaint is the lack of consistency in getting the show loaded up to iView, which is the main platform for viewing ABC content on demand.

If they can get Media Watch up on iView within an hour of broadcast, it can't be that difficult to do likewise for the 7.30 Report.

Shamelessly political

I've said before that the Liberals need to get into post-Cold War politics.  Perhaps I should explain myself.  Here's an excerpt from a 4 Corners program broadcast during the meltdown over the Emissions Trading Scheme legislation late last year:

SARAH FERGUSON: Nick Minchin is Leader of the Opposition in the Senate, you could also call him the godfather of the liberals climate sceptics. He's home in Adelaide watching his daughter's netball team.

NICK MINCHIN: I frankly strongly object to you know, politicians and others trying to terrify 12 year old girls that their planet's about to melt, you know. I mean really it is appalling some of that that sort of behaviour.

SARAH FERGUSON: Angry about what he sees as the indoctrination of children, he blames the left.

NICK MINCHIN: For the extreme left it provides the opportunity to do what they've always wanted to do, to sort of de-industrialise the western world. You know the collapse of communism was a disaster for the left, and the, and really they embraced environmentalism as their new religion.

SARAH FERGUSON: Minchin encourages his junior colleagues to speak out too.

NICK MINCHIN: I don't mind being branded a sceptic about the theory that that human emissions and CO2 are the main driver of global change - of global warming. I don't accept that and I've said that publically. I guess if I can say it, I would hope that others would feel free to do so.

SARAH FERGUSON: The junior south Australian liberal senator, Cory Bernardi, takes his cues from Minchin.

CORY BERNARDI: The fact that Nick has publicly supported the right of back benchers and others to speak up on a very critical issue is certainly encouraging.

(Excerpt of footage of Cory Bernardi at book launch, 27 January 2009)

CORY BERNARDI: The challenge for Australia, and the Australian parliament is to examine the facts of climate change and not just the opinion polls.

SARAH FERGUSON: Earlier this year Bernardi launched the book, Thank God For Carbon, a publication of the vehemently sceptical Lavoisier group.

"You know the collapse of communism was a disaster for the left...and really they embraced environmentalism as their new religion."

Minchin is retiring when the current Senate runs its course.  He has groomed an up-and-comer in the form of Cory Bernardi.  I urge you to read the transcript of the whole 4 Corners program to see just how madly antique these people are.  These people are seriously in the twilight zone if they think radical leftist politics pose any threat to civilization.  These men talk about the concerns of ordinary people over environmental degradation as the rise of some sort of neo-communism.  That is a dangerous ideological bat to be waving around when ordinary people are involved.

Minchin was largely behind the putsch that saw the end of Malcolm Turnbull's leadership of the Liberals in December 2009.  He was a strong supporter of the rise of Tony Abbott.  Minchin and Abbott were both influential acolytes in the cult of John Howard.  They are men of a certain era, and neither seems able to think outside the limitations of that period.  For example, both were among the voices urging Howard to stand down in the back rooms farce during the Sydney APEC meeting in 2007; they acquiesced in his decision that they did not know their own interests, along with the rest of the inner circle of the cabinet.  This is why they both ultimately need to go in order for the Liberal Party to become a viable prospect for government in the medium term.  Downer and Costello have flown the roost, Minchin will be doing so soon, and Abbott should give it serious thought, along with both the (in name but not nature) Liberal Bishops, among others.

Arguably there is a case to be made that moving to renewable energies would lay the groundwork for a renewal of manufacturing in this country, but leadership towards this highly desirable goal has evaporated in both the major parties.  The prospect of economic ruin is far stronger in direct proportion to the time it takes to launch serious policies to move to sources of energy other than fossil fuels, and forms of transport that are not reliant on oil in particular.

When I was in primary school we learned about harnessing the sun for energy-intensive tasks such as cooking sausages.  I belong to a generation which is accustomed to thinking through alternative ways of powering our lifestyle.  Given the opportunity, I would gladly go solar for electricity -- the body corporate would probably have a fit.  But to the likes of Nick Minchin and Cory Bernardi that makes me a communist.  What a hide.

Blackout

The election advertising blackout started at midnight.  This is the last time for about the next three years you'll enjoy a break from political advertising.

Enjoy the peace while it lasts, stay as far away as possible from news and current affairs shows, and bin any last-minute mail from candidates.  Speaking for myself, I've got a night of choir rehearsal tomorrow and on Friday I intend to sleep as early as possible (it's a big day on Saturday!).  Not having a television means my electoral coverage has come from the ABC iView website; life has been mercifully quiet in a world where attack ads a relatively unknown.

Headless chooks

Tony Abbot and Julia Gillard are racking up the flight hours -- sadly, not in the pilot's seat.

It seems that voters in marginal seats in Queensland and Western Australia are deemed worthy of sustained attention in the form of repeated visits from the leaders of the major parties.  I think this is a waste of money, and a burden on the environment in the form of burnt jet fuel.

The problem with all this flying about is that nobody really gets the sustained attention of Julia Gillard or Tony Abbot.  They appear, do their thing, let the papers take a photo or two, answer a couple of questions at a door stop and get on the plane or other transport and go away.  The real effect is that the local candidates -- the ones who will be the true beneficiaries of voting on Saturday -- are overshadowed in the presence of whichever Dear Leader they follow.

The only contribution visits of this sort make to our political culture is the continued cultivation of the impression that we elect a Prime Minister, rather than a Parliament.  This is, of course, completely wrong: a good civics course in the form of one-minute ads screened on the hour, every hour, for the next three years would do much to amend matters, but hardly likely to be sanctioned under the present arrangements.

There are a couple of other cankers floating about.  Some whacko has been publishing rubbish about supposed citizens' rights -- guaranteed in the Constitution, apparently -- being traduced.  This is sad, given the atrophied and inconclusive state of the argument over a bill of rights for Australian citizens.  The sad thing is that the whackos are taken seriously by sad people who are literate enough to go and read the Constitution to find out what it really says.  Undoubtedly the US Federal Bank is wound up in this sad tale somewhere.

I agree with Shaun Carney's view that this is simply one of those bread-and-butter elections that we have more often than not.  He does put a compelling argument for why big picture politics are absent this time round in the face of uncertainty about the likelihood of a further deterioration in the global financial situation.  The reality is that uncertainty is not conducive to big dreams.

In the meantime, I really wish all senior politicians would get pilot training.  At least they would be responsible for their own flying around like headless chooks.

Music for Sunday 22 August 2010

Statue of St Bartholomew, Duomo, Milan

This week the Anglican Parish of Jika Jika is anticipating the feast of Bartholomew, Apostle and Martyr, which falls on 24 August.

This day is associated with a number of institutions and events.  In London, there is a hospital in named in honour of the Saint near the Smithfield Market, where there is a fair to mark the feast every August.  And -- London church crawlers will already have this one marked -- it is the feast day of Great St Bartholomew's, the remains of what was once a sprawling monastery in the middle of London.

The St Bartholomew's Day Massacre remains an important milestone in the religious history of France, and to my mind it occupies a place in the history of the sixteenth century which can be compared to the kristallnacht in the twentieth.  This dreadful event forms the basis of the story for Meyerbeer's grand opera, Les Hugenots, which in turn has a reflection in organ music.  Franz Liszt took the chorus Ad nos, Salutarem and turned it into one of the great variation-and-fugue sets of the organ literature.  The chorus itself comes at the moment when the Anabaptists have decided to enter a covenant to remain faithful in the face of impending death at the hands of Catholic mercenaries.  The organ version is a transcendental experience, and in a good performance it is well worth the twenty minutes of hard listening.

The readings for this week are linked here.

The psalm is set to Anglican chant.

The Mass setting will be Philip Mathias's Christ Church Mass (Together in Song, 757).

Hymns are as follows:

Introit: The eternal gifts of Christ the King [tune: Gonfalon Royal 332]
Gradual: Saints of God! Lo, Jesu's people [tune: Cross of Jesus, 136]
Offertory: All hail the power of Jesus' name [224 i]
Communion: Filled with the Spirit's power, with one accord [411]

The postlude at All Saints will be:

Bolero -- Thomas Mohr

Throats of gold

I've been down with a bit of a bug lately, which means I've been back listening to Mahler lieder.  There's something intoxicating and incredible about the orchestration of the Lied von der Erde and Ruckert Lieder, which I find beguiling.  Orchestration is about the only thing I can ever think about in detail when I'm laid low --perhaps the rapid changes of colour match my inability to concentrate on anything more substantial.

My recording of these Mahler song cycles is a classic, with Kathleen Ferrier and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau sharing the load on von der Erde, and Ferrier doing her amazing thing on the Ruckert Lieder.  Ferrier is always instructive to listen to: every vowel is spot-on, every consonant is there, everything is bang on the beat -- what a tragedy her career was so short!  Here are a couple of snippets:



This is probably the most ponderous recording of He was despised, but impossible to top.  You feel the emotion in every note, and every consonant feels like another lash of the whip.  Any singing student trying to imitate this in an exam would be failed instantly -- proof that while performance perspectives have improved, it is likely that the 'discovery' that Baroque music was really quite fast has become a cover for diminished attention spans.

Ferrier was fortunate to emerge at the time when British music was having a particularly fertile phase: she was the inspiration for roles in operas and symphonic pieces by Benjamin Britten, and music by Edmund Rubbra, Arthur Bliss and Lennox Berkeley.  Ferrier's career encompassed opera and oratorio, a versatility seldom matched so well by many singers these days.

Here is the one that really breaks the heart:



Near the end, the trumpets get fired up and start going a bit mad all over the place.  This page will tell you why.  It's worth following the parallel text on the second hearing.

Voting dilemmas

Mark Latham thinks that lodging a blank ballot sheet constitutes a protest vote.  Bully to him if he wishes to be frivolous and waste his opportunities in this way, but he shouldn't persist in advocating that others do likewise.  An informal vote simply props up the status quo he so publicly excoriates.  For a man who was once determined to transform public life, Latham has turned out to be remarkably defensive about maintaining the problematic conditions he wanted to break down.  He is a walking paradox.

I've been thinking very carefully over the last three weeks.  There are several areas of policy that are important to me: culture, higher education, and welfare come to mind.  Economic policy is at the back of this, but you can trawl any of a number of places on the web for more penetrating analysis of the wares being flogged in this department.

Neither of the two major parties has seen fit to put out a meaningful arts and culture policy.  Labour did make a gesture last week, but that's all it was.  And it wasn't an especially polite gesture either.

Both parties persist in the fiction that the role of academics in public universities is to pursue research which can be applied to industry.  This is an important facet of Australian university work, but it is not the whole end of a university.  Education policy generally is fairly poor no matter where you look, but Labour is still looking slightly more realistic than the alternative.

Both Labour and Liberal take an essentially punitive approach to the unemployed.  Yes, it is desirable that anyone who wishes to work should find it.  However, sometimes it is unavoidable that one cannot work.  Moreover, the much-vaunted economic policies of the last quarter century have not been kindly to unskilled workers -- the promotion of construction and mining don't come near to covering the opportunity gap set up by the vaporisation of industry.  There is systemic unemployment in Australia, and it is difficult to see how this is to be addressed by the welfare-to-work policies of Labour or Liberal.  The latter actively blame the unemployed for their predicament, which is simply wicked.

Most Australians would like to see social progress on a number of fronts.  Only the Greens have offered policies that address this aspiration, whatever your view of the practicality of these policies.  The Liberals are still wedged on the Howardist extreme, and will be unready for government until that policy framework is comprehensively dismantled.  They need to move into post-Cold War politics.  This means that the only dilemma facing the thinking voter is how far one's preferences should travel before Labour gets your (much-travelled) vote.

Latham is wrong.  A protest vote consists of directing your preferences away from the major parties.  It is the wake-up call they need.

Another head rolls at the VCA

Crikey reports that Kristy Edmunds has resigned from her role as Deputy Dean of the VCA.  Along with Sharman Pretty, Edmunds was part of the agency-of-change series of appointments in the last five years which have contributed to the VCA's present woes.


Melbourne should wish Edmunds well on her next step.

Music for Sunday 15 August

This week, the Anglican Parish of Jika Jika is keeping the feast of the Assumption of Our Lady -- call it Mary, Mother of the Lord, if you prefer.

There's a lot one could say about this feast.  I've spent a good deal of my time around Anglo-Catholics who regard this feast as the ne plus ultra of that tradition.  It's true, it can be a lot of fun getting out in cloth of gold and dripping with lace.

However, this week is the first time since Holy Week that the three centres in the parish have gathered together for a shared act of worship.  Mass will be held at St Mary's, East Preston, and this Sunday is being treated as a patronal festival.

Readings for the week are linked here.

The psalm will be sung to this setting.

The Mass setting is Philip Mathias's Christ Church Mass [Together in Song, 757]

Hymns are as follows:

Introit: Sing we of the blessed Mother [tune: 153]
Gradual: Tell out, my soul, the greatness of the Lord [161]
Offertory: Ye watchers and ye holy ones [150]
Communion: Lord Jesus Christ, you have come to us [526]

We will be installing our first white level choristers at this Mass, which is a fitting thing to do with the whole parish gathered together.  This project is starting to assume a regular rhythm, which is a relief!

Because there's no organ, the exit procession will be accompanied by songs sung by one of the Sudanese congregations.

Get your Verdi fix

I stumbled across this wonderful site while I was in search of something else (isn't it always the way?).  Recordings of a good number of Verdi's operas, the Requiem and much else -- all in the public domain.  Some of the performances are truly incredible, including some directed by Arturo Toscanini.

What plan?

The Australian Liberal Party have held their mid-campaign "launch" in Brisbane today.  I was off playing a recital in the wilds of Mooroolbark, which seems to have been the more worthwhile choice of activity.

Why are the Liberals being looked at seriously by the media?  Here's the promise of a Tony Abbott-led government:

Aside from his already announced toughening of boat people laws, he also announced he would on "day one" of an Abbott government:

• Lift the "mining tax threat";

• Lift the "carbon tax threat";

• Start negotiations with the president of Nauru to re-open the refugee processing centre there;

• Act to stop marine parks;

• Suspend payments for the "schools halls" programme to the states and redirect the money to school communities.

He also said he would, in his first week of governing:

• Announce his Cabinet and National Security Committee;

• Establish a debt reduction taskforce.

In the first month of his government he said he would:

• Release an economic statement;

• Release the Murray-Darling Basin Plan for consultation;

• Re-introduce Temporary Protection Visas (TPVs) for boat people;

• Implement new arrangements to reimburse householders for insulation batts safety inspections;

• Publish the modelling associated with the Henry Tax Review.

In the first three months of his government, he would:

• Prepare an Emissions Reduction Fund;

• Enact small business reforms;

• Finalise recruitment arrangements for a green army of environmental workers;

• Establish a National Violent Gangs Squad;

• Meet with COAG to secure agreement on hospital boards and beds;

• Visit Afghanistan.

Earlier this week former Coalition treasurer Peter Costello said he believed an incoming government should implement a further round of personal tax cuts.

It is noteworthy that John Howard -- Dr Retro himself -- was the warmup act for this.  Most of the policies on offer have a microwaved feeling about them.

The Liberals have only one approach to economic policy, and it's spelt: C U T S.  To everything in sight: spending, taxes, humanity and national pride.  Paul Keating once described them as middle-class money grubbers: from today's efforts it's not hard to see why this remains an accurate assessment.  They do a good act of making it reasonable to believe that economic policy is the art of slicing a magic pudding.

Yet another reason to put the Shooters Party ahead of the Liberals.

Read Tony Abbott's launch speech here.

Transfiguration

In colour,

black & white,

by Raphael,

an act of transfiguration, 1945.

Roll out the barrel

With thanks to Truthdig.

Music for Transfiguration

Transfiguration -- Lewis Bowman.

This week, some parishes may be keeping the feast of the Transfiguration by transference.  This feast is a bit like the Baptism of the Lord (Epiphany I), which often tends to get swamped when Epiphany is transferred to the following Sunday. Transfiguration is also a bit like Corpus Christi and other similar feasts, such as the Invention of the Cross (more recently re-badged as the Triumph of the Same): its origins lie in a transference of the celebration of a mystery to a time outside Lent, where it formed the Gospel reading on the second Sunday.  Because the August observance of Transfiguration tends to fall on a weekday it is often allowed to pass by.  And, of course, followers of the new lectionary keep this feast on the last Sunday before Lent, which used to be Quinquagesima.  I still use the 'gesima' Sunday names on my music lists, if only to see the suppressed guffaws on Sexagesima.  It also provides a good teaching point for choristers, especially at a time in the year when Holy Week is not far away.  The main message there is "we'd better get cracking on the plainchant for Palm Sunday."

Of course, most of the world knows 6 August as Hiroshima day.  That was Operation Transfiguration.

You'll see from another entry that the Parish of Jika Jika is keeping the Ordinary Sunday.  That decision was taken after this blog entry was put together, so this is more for curiosity value, along with my personal affection for this feast, than anything else.

The readings for the feast are linked here.

This is a good selection of hymns, covering most of the bases (particularly that of familiarity!):

Introit: Christ upon the mountain peak [243]
For the Psalm: The Lord is king, the most high [55]
Gradual: How good, Lord, to be here! [234]
Offertory: God, your glory we have seen in your Son [461]
Communion: Christ, whose glory fills the skies [212]

See the other entry for music that will be part of the service at All Saints this week.

Music for Sunday 8 August

The readings for this week are linked here.

The psalm setting is here.

The setting will be Philip Mathias's Christ Church Mass (Together in Song, 757).

Hymns for the week are as follows:


Introit: Glorious things of you are spoken [446]
Gradual: Hark! a herald voice is calling [264]
Offertory: Christ is made the sure foundation [432]
Communion: Strengthen for service, Lord, the hands [496]

Organ music at All Saints will be taken from the programme for the concert I am playing in Mooroolbark later in the day.

You couldn't make this up.

Bride's name -- Samantha
Groom's name -- Michael

Your eyes don't deceive you.  Either the happy couple had a wicked sense of humour, or they just didn't realize.  It was a Catholic wedding, after all....

This is the service booklet from a wedding for which I played a few years ago (photographed against a leather chair, just for kicks!).  I found it yesterday when putting some organ music into the new filing cabinet.  The music was:

Entry: Trumpet Voluntary, "The Prince of Denmark's March" -- J. Clarke
Signing: Jesu, joy of man's desiring -- J.S. Bach
Exit: Sinfonia from Solomon -- G.F. Handel

Neoliberal economics for these troubled times

With thanks to Truthdig.

Please, no -- not more

From The Age website:

Julia Gillard has used her Today Tonight appearance to agree to another televised debate with Tony Abbott:
"Game on," she said, as long as it is about the economy.
The date named is next Sunday...the evening of the Liberal party campaign launch. Which would make it rather inconvenient for Mr Abbott.

The first one was bad enough, and now there is to be a second debate.  It's already mired in silly game-playing.

Between the "real Julia" stepping forward, and the only substantive debate having occurred on Sunrise, the heat is now clearly on.  But I'm a little puzzled.  What's the most enthusiastic response anyone could come up in the midst of this most anodyne of church picnic-type campaigns?  I suppose it should be: "hooray?"

Electioneering

I don't think it's any news that the present election campaign has been a complete washout.

Eureka Street rightly points out that both parties have abandoned any pretense to promoting social equity, and entrenching the idea of punishment as the controlling force in welfare policy.  So much for social progressiveness as a positive value in forming public policy.

On Crikey, there are various expressions of the widespread ennui with the way the campaigns have unfolded, and the sheer nuttiness of most of the lobby-level players, such as banking and big mining.  And Crikey has published an E-book about the rise of Julia.

My biggest quandary at the moment is how far below the Shooters Party and other assorted scary groups to put the Liberals, and whether Labour should figure above or below said party of the mad, bad and dangerous to know.

If you thought the leaders debate was a risible farce, try this:




The person representing Family First is completely insane.  I really pity her children, having the world explained to them in terms that only Sir Joh could relate to.  What is it about these inarticulate conservatives that makes them so unreasonable and so slippery?

For my money, the best quote is at 7:36, when Wendy (FF) informs the country that it's a free society, having spent the rest of the time explaining why it shouldn't be so.  And her evasiveness over making a clear statement of the preference flows from a Family First Senate vote is heroically ridiculous.

It's a sad realization that this may well have been the highlight of the election campaign so far.

On a lighter note

A very famous chorus as you've never heard (or seen) before...