rhythmaning (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rhythmaning) wrote2006-03-14 09:40 pm
rhythmaning) wrote2006-03-14 09:40 pm
Things that I meant to write about but haven’t (and now probably won’t)
Recently I have done various things that I meant to write about, but time has passed and now I probably won’t. So here are some short notes.
Edward Scissorhands
The ballet of Edward Scissorhands came to Edinburgh. Based on the movie, it was choreographed by Matthew Bourne: his company New Adventures in Motion Pictures put on his version of Swan Lake (famous for its all male flock of swans), Play Without Words (based on the Joseph Losey’s film) and Highland Fling (based on the classical ballet La Sylphide). Each of these productions was inventive and innovative; Play Without Words had several actors/dancers for each role, which though it sounds confusing was really entertaining, and Highland Fling was just wonderful – there were some moments of drama which had the audience drawing breath.
So we had to see Edward Scissorhands. It didn’t disappoint: it was by turn enchanting, haunting and funny. I haven’t seen the movie, though I must have seen clips of it; as a result, some of the characters in the ballet passed me by (my wife filled in the details later). But it didn’t detract at all – the basic story was clear (essentially the Frankenstein myth), and it was wonderfully executed. The set worked really well, the dance was engrossing, entertaining and funny, and the ballet hung together wonderfully.
A lecture by Irene Khan
I went to see Irene Khan, secretary general of Amnesty International, give a lecture entitled “The War on Terror… A War on Liberty?”, the first of Edinburgh University’s “Enlightenment” lecture series.
It was full; the General Assembly Hall on the Mound (which I had thought was owned by the Church of Scotland – it is where their synod is held – but it has clearly been run by the University for an age; it was the building used as a parliament before the Scottish Parliament building was “finished”) was packed with like-minded people; the great and good – a handful of MPs, MSPs, QCs and other luminaries (though I didn’t recognise anyone from the Scottish Executive – Jack wasn’t, nor his cronies – nor any of the many Scottish members of the UK cabinet; where was Gordon?) – they had reserved seats downstairs; upstairs, the gallery was full of students, clergymen, and people like me. Well, mainly students.
It was a curious lecture, in that I think everyone knew the kind of things Ms Khan was going to say; and she didn’t disappoint. But I really did feel that she was preaching to the converted (kind of apt, given the building’s history). She said exactly what I had expected: it could have been written by features writers on the Independent or the Guardian.
She attacked the erosion of human rights in the US and the UK, and particularly the view that this erosion would gain security when in fact it is likely to fuel the hatred that feeds terrorism. She attacked the “newspeak” that made unacceptable concepts acceptable – the use of “rendition” for kidnapping (including the apparent use of Prestwick airport as a stopping off point for the CIA on their jaunts), and the US redefinition of torture; she attacked the amendments to British law which enable unlimited detention, and she praised the House of Lords for limiting the executive’s powers over control orders. (Apologies to any lawyers who know the correct terms for anything I put in here.)
She spent a lot of time discussing the absurdity of Guantanamo Bay, and in particular the continuing damage that Camp X-ray was doing to foreign perceptions of the US: if the US can hold people without trial, why should any other nation think they can’t? The double-standards of US policy shine bright.
She identified the key issues as security, but not necessarily from terrorism: she believed that the danger to security can from the imbalance between the haves and the have-nots; from increased discrimination as nations react to those who are “other”, from the rise of anti-Muslim feelings in the UK to anti-semitism in Europe and anti-western emotions in Arab nations; and from the unchecked rise of gun-culture, with thousands dying from personal weapons; and from the growing inequality in nations and in the world, with poverty unchecked.
There was absolutely nothing she said that I disagreed with; but it was a bit like she was pushing too many of the right buttons. Maybe the audience weren’t the people who should have been listening: we didn’t need convincing. Perhaps more of a debate would have been useful – perhaps someone to challenge her ideas (within the chamber, the orthodoxy). Maybe they should have got David Blunkett along to defend the laws he instigated (he must have time on his hands!).
More time for questions would have been useful too: there were only five or six, and two of those were from politicians – the wonderfully maverick Denis Canavan (who asked about the role of the media in exposing human rights abuses) and Tam Dalyell (on the Kafka-esque situation of those detained in the UK but not told why they have been detained) – and another from a QC (or so he said).
It was an interesting couple of hours, but not a challenging as perhaps I had hoped.
A Day in the Snow: a tale of a fair-weather walker
I spent a day on a winter skills course last month. The aim of this was to make sure that if and when I find myself in inclement weather on the mountains – and given that I have been hillwalking in September and found myself in a blizzard – I feel confident and safe; that I know how to use my kit to protect myself.
I am not sure if it achieved that; basically, it just reminded me how much I dislike going out in bad weather.
Because the weather was frankly awful; (almost) unremittingly dreadful. We went out in the Lawers range, to the north of Loch Tay. It was snowing as we left the cars, and it was more or less snowing the whole day; except when it was raining. We climbed Meall Corranaich, a trudge – our guide getting us a little lost in the low visibility (curiously, I recognised where we were; I was rather pleased!).
Two thirds of the way up – quite exposed, although since the visibility was lousy, we couldn’t see that – we stopped and settled in for the day. We did all the things that we might have to do in snow or ice: kicking steps (though the snow wasn’t really hard enough); cutting steps with an ice-axe; various forms of ice-axe arrest (feet first; head first; feet first on the front; head first on the back). Whilst I managed to stop on most of these, the likelihood of being able to do so if I suddenly found myself plunging down a mountainside seemed unlikely to me. “You have to keep practicing, whenever you are out in the snow,” the instructor said. Trying out an ice-axe arrest when I am speeding head first on my back towards a cliff edge is not something I will doing if I can ever possibly avoid it.
The crampons were fun, though: crampons were great. It felt like we could walk anywhere. They gave such grip, heading straight up a steep slope was no problem. Indeed, it would be useful to wear these things the whole time. (Course, they don’t work unless there is snow or ice, but still…) Crampons I loved.
After five hours or so of shivering in the snow and rain, we stopped practicing and headed towards the summit. It was now blowing a gale as well snowing; my glasses were steamed up, and frankly I really didn’t want to be there. I had been to the top before, anyhow. We reached a false summit which everyone thought was the top, and it was only when we were descending that the guides realised it wasn’t, so we plodded on. The guides kept asking us how we were doing and whether we had had a good day. I kept my silence.
Then, just before the summit, the cloud lifted and the sun came out; and for five mionutes or so, it was glorious – quite beautiful, the setting sun shining below the heavy clouds; the views were stupendous, the surrounding peaks silhouetted or pink. It was really, really beautiful.
Then the cloud came back down. We headed down the nose of the mountain – not the way I would have done it, and I felt proved right by the unpleasant patches of ice across the path that sent us slipping onto rocks.
Frankly, a miserable day; but at least I know I really don’t like going out in bad weather, however much I love walking in snow itself; and at least I now know how not to kill myself.
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