28 March 2014
26 March 2014
Rara Avis
In the afternoon I will be leading a new group, the Newman Singers, in their first regular service at St Aloysius, Caulfield. This will be Vespers and Benediction, marking the weekend's celebrations at the establishment of the personal parish for the Latin Mass community there.
The music for the service is mostly plainsong, will probably mostly be supported by the organ, and will include organ pieces and improvisations.
24 March 2014
Organ music for Annunciation day
Here's the music I have planned.
Prelude: Andante con moto (Op. 18, No. 5) -- A.P.F. Boëly
Offertory: Canon perpetuel (Op. 18, No. 3) -- A.P.F. Boëly
Communion: Ave Maria after Arcadelt -- Franz Liszt
Postlude: Coronation March from Le Prophete -- Giacomo Meyerbeer
21 March 2014
19 March 2014
Out and about on Sunday
Here's the organ music I have planned.
Canon perpetuel (Op. 18, No. 3) -- A.P.F. Boëly
Andante con moto (Op. 18, No. 5) -- A.P.F. Boëly
Christus, der uns selig macht [BWV 620] -- J.S. Bach
16 March 2014
Why, O Y?
I remember when the demographic interest in generation Y got seriously under way, about ten years ago. There is now a large literature, ranging from youth voices urging older folk to get out of the way to heavily-researched analysis, all the way through to junk pop psychology positing a series of archetypes for Gen Y and the surrounding generations.
And then there’s the constant hum of ‘why, O Y’ muttering in newspapers. Most of this seems to be constructed around conflict of generation story types, and inevitably circles around to why business finds it difficult to retain younger workers. You can assemble your checklist from here: younger workers resist committment to the business; they leave as soon as they ascend into positions of responsibility; they don’t plan their lives around long-term work, and so on. Today’s Age has just such a story, built around a speech from the chief executive of the Oaktree Foundation.
The theme that really stood out from the article was the need of younger workers to see that what they do has meaning. There is a serious and important critique of the way (big) businesses conduct themselves embedded here, and as usual the journalist has walked straight past it.
Generation Y has been out in the workforce for the better part of ten years now. This coincides with that time of life of starting to work out one’s ways of constructing meaning. Part of that is articulating what makes for a satisfying life.
Having said that, articulating what makes for a satisfying life is hardly unique to a particular generation. That issue has been in the air for a good twenty years or so now. It remains unresolved, basically because workplace law continues to be shaped to allow (big) businesses to hire and dismiss at will. It remains unresolved because internships are now such an integral part of how some larger businesses induct junior workers it would be very hard to legitimize the work by putting a salary to it because of the vampiric tendency of a lot of businesses in the way they relate to their youngest workers. If they can get the young blood for free, then that’s exactly what they will do.
What is unique about Generation Y is that they have grown up in a culture where external sources of meaning have been relativised, and the choice to opt out is the default. The follow-on for how meaning is made is that it is not dependent on external sources of validation and affirmation. However, to then say that young people are lacking in spirituality is to miss the very large amount of discernment and consideration that lies behind the decision-making processes that shape how young people live.
This is where I throw my hands in the air when the perennial lack-of-young-folks-at-church discussion comes up. One of the problems with this conversation is the vampiric tendency some older people can (unintentionally) display: the desire to have the energy of the young in order to sustain the institution and relationships the older people have enjoyed in a particular place, without allowing those young people to have a say in governance or to exercise a creative influence on the life of a parish. When a younger person is placed in a position of responsibility they have to contend with being characterised as the angel or the devil, seldom a reasonable combination of both.
Similarly, in business there is an expectation that workers will appropriate the meaning the business apportions to them. If you doubt this, just ask yourself why a lot of businesses put energy into executive retreats, management bonding sessions, and so on. Building the culture of a business allows it to articulate its values in a strong and transmissible way. The problem is that they way they relate to younger people is much like that of churches: the young person can come in to do an internship, but there's no guarantee that will grow into a relationship where the business takes the worker at their own estimation.
And this is the crux of work and church. Both ignore the real spirituality of young people, who desire meaning and influence. Both spend a lot of time talking about young people, but very little time talking seriously with young people. Both tend to end up playing stupid power, trust and authority games, much of which comes down to that endless human fascination with the having and dispensing of money. The net result is an erosion of spirituality and a loss of faith all round. For businesses and churches alike the result is the endemic inability to retain young people in the organisation, leading to difficulties in sustaining the activity in the longer term. Young people will test their social and moral legitimacy by issues such as climate change, social policy, and the Millennium Development Goals, for example.
These are not issue unique to Generation Y. They matter as much to Generation X, and thoughtful Baby Boomers.
The solution lies not with the younger people, but with older people in any position of power and responsibility remembering that every time they point the finger, three fingers point back at them.
And then there’s the constant hum of ‘why, O Y’ muttering in newspapers. Most of this seems to be constructed around conflict of generation story types, and inevitably circles around to why business finds it difficult to retain younger workers. You can assemble your checklist from here: younger workers resist committment to the business; they leave as soon as they ascend into positions of responsibility; they don’t plan their lives around long-term work, and so on. Today’s Age has just such a story, built around a speech from the chief executive of the Oaktree Foundation.
The theme that really stood out from the article was the need of younger workers to see that what they do has meaning. There is a serious and important critique of the way (big) businesses conduct themselves embedded here, and as usual the journalist has walked straight past it.
Generation Y has been out in the workforce for the better part of ten years now. This coincides with that time of life of starting to work out one’s ways of constructing meaning. Part of that is articulating what makes for a satisfying life.
Having said that, articulating what makes for a satisfying life is hardly unique to a particular generation. That issue has been in the air for a good twenty years or so now. It remains unresolved, basically because workplace law continues to be shaped to allow (big) businesses to hire and dismiss at will. It remains unresolved because internships are now such an integral part of how some larger businesses induct junior workers it would be very hard to legitimize the work by putting a salary to it because of the vampiric tendency of a lot of businesses in the way they relate to their youngest workers. If they can get the young blood for free, then that’s exactly what they will do.
What is unique about Generation Y is that they have grown up in a culture where external sources of meaning have been relativised, and the choice to opt out is the default. The follow-on for how meaning is made is that it is not dependent on external sources of validation and affirmation. However, to then say that young people are lacking in spirituality is to miss the very large amount of discernment and consideration that lies behind the decision-making processes that shape how young people live.
This is where I throw my hands in the air when the perennial lack-of-young-folks-at-church discussion comes up. One of the problems with this conversation is the vampiric tendency some older people can (unintentionally) display: the desire to have the energy of the young in order to sustain the institution and relationships the older people have enjoyed in a particular place, without allowing those young people to have a say in governance or to exercise a creative influence on the life of a parish. When a younger person is placed in a position of responsibility they have to contend with being characterised as the angel or the devil, seldom a reasonable combination of both.
Similarly, in business there is an expectation that workers will appropriate the meaning the business apportions to them. If you doubt this, just ask yourself why a lot of businesses put energy into executive retreats, management bonding sessions, and so on. Building the culture of a business allows it to articulate its values in a strong and transmissible way. The problem is that they way they relate to younger people is much like that of churches: the young person can come in to do an internship, but there's no guarantee that will grow into a relationship where the business takes the worker at their own estimation.
And this is the crux of work and church. Both ignore the real spirituality of young people, who desire meaning and influence. Both spend a lot of time talking about young people, but very little time talking seriously with young people. Both tend to end up playing stupid power, trust and authority games, much of which comes down to that endless human fascination with the having and dispensing of money. The net result is an erosion of spirituality and a loss of faith all round. For businesses and churches alike the result is the endemic inability to retain young people in the organisation, leading to difficulties in sustaining the activity in the longer term. Young people will test their social and moral legitimacy by issues such as climate change, social policy, and the Millennium Development Goals, for example.
These are not issue unique to Generation Y. They matter as much to Generation X, and thoughtful Baby Boomers.
The solution lies not with the younger people, but with older people in any position of power and responsibility remembering that every time they point the finger, three fingers point back at them.
15 March 2014
Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose
It seems we’re back to where things were after 2007, with all sorts of media gushing about wall-to-wall governments of the same hue. I remember the thunderous amount of agreement in the political journalist class that with the co-operation of a complete sweep of Labour governments in Canberra and the states there would be a new age of consensus and progress. Somehow, it just didn’t materialise. Instead, the rabid Tory branch of the commentariat swung into action to poison the well on any worthwhile social policy, aided by Kevin Rudd’s need for a win in every day’s political television cycle. Along with this came all the spittle-flecked raving about anything centre-of-right as the thin end of a leftist wedge. Now it looks like we will have (almost) wall-to-wall Liberal-National Party governments. Once again we can hail a new age of consensus and progress. Once again we can end up scratching our heads and asking why the expected Utopia didn’t come about. And still, the rabid Tory branch of the commentariat will swing into action to poison the well on any worthwhile social policy, aided by Tony Abbott’s need to avoid meaningful scrutiny and his handlers’ collective need for him to be seen to win each day’s political television cycle. Along with this will come all the spittle-flecked raving about anything showing a hint of humanity as the thin end of a leftist wedge. Sometimes it seems that the more things change, the more they stay the same…
07 March 2014
An inheritor of wealth who wants a third world Australia
Gina Rinehart is one of the most privileged people in Australian public life. She has been fortunate to inherit wealth from her father, and to possess the ability to capitalize and expand that wealth.
Of course, it's hasn't been plain sailing. She spent most of the nineties agitating about, and arguing over wills with, her step-mother. And lately she has been caught up in court actions with her children.
All the same, the picture most Australians carry of Gina Rinehart is of an extremely priviliged individual who advocates for a political worldview that can only politely be described as base fantasy. I mean, this is someone who can afford to buy into one of the biggest media companies in the country and self-publish some of the most tritely ideological attempts at poetry ever foisted on the literate public.
One of the biggest problems facing our politics these days is the sheer lack of originality, and Gina's latest outpourings are a classic example of this problem.
Apparently the most urgent need in Australia at this moment in time is a good, thorough dose of Thatcherism. The reason we need this is so that the plebs don't loose sight of the fact that their sense of entitlement is endangering the "bottomless pit of money" produced by the mining interests.
Hang on, there are a couple of problems here.
Problem number one is a case of selective memory. We had a good, thorough dose of Thatcherism. Those economic policies were initiated and carried through by the Labor federal governments from 1983 to 1996. We had a second good, thorough dose of Thatcherism (which is presently being reprised by the understudies) from 1996 to 2007. That was all the cultural war nonsense little Jack Howard carried on about. You know, all that blather about history wars and constant carping about the ABC, the National Museum, school standards -- you name it, there was a midget conservative whinging about it. Oh yes, and the waterfront dispute and -- eventually -- the deceptively-named Workchoices. Maybe Rinehart was too busy suing people to notice what went on from the mid-1990s to the mid-noughties.
Problem number two is ignorance of the status of mining in the national economy. There are two points to this.
For all the carry on, mining is less than 10% of the economy, and contributes less than that percentage of jobs to the workforce.
A basic knowledge of economic history would save Gina Rinehart from her worst error. Mining is a finite business. Once you've hit the bottom of a mine, there's nothing more to dig. It's a boom and bust industry. If our national prosperity depended on it, then we're in deep dark stuff. If you want proof, just go and have a look at Nauru. This is the sort of future Gina Rinehart dreams for Australia.
Problem number three has already been mentioned.
Gina Rinehart lives in a privileged bubble, and seems to regard anything that furthers the expansion of that bubble to be in the national interest. Unfortunately, all traffic goes out of the bubble, and not much seems to go in. How else to explain the poverty of mind that could produce derivative junk-poetry, and now calls for a revival of a style and idea of politics that has ceased to work.
Repetition is not the same as originality. Gina Rinehart's interests are not the national interest. If she wants to see how many people share her political fantasies, maybe she should do something about practically buying her way into parliament.
What we actually need is a politics that is able to spell out and compel the fulfilment Gina Rinehart's obligations to the nation from which she derives her wealth. Small things, like taxes that contribute meaningfully to the public good. And perhaps a crash-course in anything-but-mining-and-suing to expand the mind.
Of course, it's hasn't been plain sailing. She spent most of the nineties agitating about, and arguing over wills with, her step-mother. And lately she has been caught up in court actions with her children.
All the same, the picture most Australians carry of Gina Rinehart is of an extremely priviliged individual who advocates for a political worldview that can only politely be described as base fantasy. I mean, this is someone who can afford to buy into one of the biggest media companies in the country and self-publish some of the most tritely ideological attempts at poetry ever foisted on the literate public.
One of the biggest problems facing our politics these days is the sheer lack of originality, and Gina's latest outpourings are a classic example of this problem.
Apparently the most urgent need in Australia at this moment in time is a good, thorough dose of Thatcherism. The reason we need this is so that the plebs don't loose sight of the fact that their sense of entitlement is endangering the "bottomless pit of money" produced by the mining interests.
Hang on, there are a couple of problems here.
Problem number one is a case of selective memory. We had a good, thorough dose of Thatcherism. Those economic policies were initiated and carried through by the Labor federal governments from 1983 to 1996. We had a second good, thorough dose of Thatcherism (which is presently being reprised by the understudies) from 1996 to 2007. That was all the cultural war nonsense little Jack Howard carried on about. You know, all that blather about history wars and constant carping about the ABC, the National Museum, school standards -- you name it, there was a midget conservative whinging about it. Oh yes, and the waterfront dispute and -- eventually -- the deceptively-named Workchoices. Maybe Rinehart was too busy suing people to notice what went on from the mid-1990s to the mid-noughties.
Problem number two is ignorance of the status of mining in the national economy. There are two points to this.
For all the carry on, mining is less than 10% of the economy, and contributes less than that percentage of jobs to the workforce.
A basic knowledge of economic history would save Gina Rinehart from her worst error. Mining is a finite business. Once you've hit the bottom of a mine, there's nothing more to dig. It's a boom and bust industry. If our national prosperity depended on it, then we're in deep dark stuff. If you want proof, just go and have a look at Nauru. This is the sort of future Gina Rinehart dreams for Australia.
Problem number three has already been mentioned.
Gina Rinehart lives in a privileged bubble, and seems to regard anything that furthers the expansion of that bubble to be in the national interest. Unfortunately, all traffic goes out of the bubble, and not much seems to go in. How else to explain the poverty of mind that could produce derivative junk-poetry, and now calls for a revival of a style and idea of politics that has ceased to work.
Repetition is not the same as originality. Gina Rinehart's interests are not the national interest. If she wants to see how many people share her political fantasies, maybe she should do something about practically buying her way into parliament.
What we actually need is a politics that is able to spell out and compel the fulfilment Gina Rinehart's obligations to the nation from which she derives her wealth. Small things, like taxes that contribute meaningfully to the public good. And perhaps a crash-course in anything-but-mining-and-suing to expand the mind.
05 March 2014
Out and about on Sunday
It's a little difficult to plan the piano music ahead of time (mostly I collect whatever is on top of the piano on the way out of the house), but you can be sure of hearing some Bach and some good hearty Lenten hymns.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)