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Month: October 2020

Things we forget . . .

[ Originally posted on Facebook 18 November 2015 in the wake of a series of terror attacks in Paris on 13 November that left over 120 dead ]

I have [now ‘had’] the honour to work for an organisation (UNHCR, the UN refugee agency), many of whose staff are on the front lines in some of the world’s most difficult places—places where conflict, terrorism, atrocity and personal trauma on a scale almost inconceivable are daily occurrence.

So to a conversation in the office today about how what’s happening in Europe will change things.

One of our number—who has extensive experience at the shitty sharp end—said, “Oh, it’ll be just like when we were in xxxx—there’s an explosion, a shooting, a bombing or some other terrible thing, everyone pauses for a moment, and then life goes on.”

“xxxx” might be Afghanistan, it might be Colombia, Central African Republic, Lebanon, Kenya, or Myanmar; it might be Mali, Pakistan, Nigeria, Syria, Ukraine, Somalia, Iraq, South Sudan, or Yemen; it might be Turkey. It might be so many other places.

What we in Europe (and USA, Australia, Canada, Japan etc.) see as the unimaginable is often no more than daily reality for so many others around the world.

The developed world’s myth since WWII is that the authorities can and will keep us all safe.

Never has this been more untrue.

So welcome, we lucky denizens of the “developed” world, to our new reality—a reality that so many of our brothers and sisters elsewhere know only too well and live with daily . . .

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Of their hands: cowboy cuisine

[ Originally published on Facebook 2 April 2020 ]

So ‘from the sublime to’ . . . no I can’t say ‘the ridiculous,’ because the next channel is far from that; let’s say rather ‘from the sublime to the rambunctious’ . . .

One of the many it-doesn’t-quite-add-up things about our current predicament [this was written during the early days of the first full-court-press UK Covid lockdown] is that all the utilities—electricity, gas, water, sewage, garbage, post, you name it—seem to be almost unaffected.

But let’s say the power was off—we’d have to find other ways of lighting, heating, cooking.

For ‘Cowboy’ Kent Rollins that’d be no kinda big deal, ‘cos’n’ that’s what he does—he cooks up a storm over an open fire.

Back in them frontier days, folks didn’t have none o’ them fancy ‘lectric stoves—all their cooking was done wood-fired, using cast-iron skillets, Dutch ovens and sich . . .

And this is what Rollins shows us, whether it’s good campfire coffee, mama’s cornbread dressing, fried rattlesnake (no, really), Philly cheesesteak, or jalapeño cheese sourdough bread, Kent’s got y’all covered.

It’s all presented in his inimitable style—good-ole-boy Oklahoma corny. So yes, maybe you wouldn’t want to listen to him all day, but in small doses his deep knowledge, his fluent patter, and his sheer down-home good-heartedness warm and convince.

A recent one of his titled ‘Cowboy Cures’ is testament to just how much he really knows his stuff. And if’n’ you let him folks, he can pass on a whole passel o’ knowin’ about outdoor cooking and life, power off or not . . .

::: VEGETARIANS AVOID :::

Here’s Kent’s intro video for his YouTube channel, which should give you some flavour . . .

Up for some more? (It’s worth it . . .) Kent’s YouTube channel here

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Of their hands: social virtuosity

[Originally posted on Facebook 30 March 2020 ]

Let’s stay with the arts.

Tiffany Poon was born in Hong Kong in December 1996. Which makes her 23 [at the time of writing] and—if you buy into such categories—a Millennial. She started piano lessons at age four, made her concert debut at 10.

Her website (tiffanypoon.com) lists a solo repertoire of 150+, from Bach through Liszt to Stravinsky, plus another 40+ concerto and chamber works.

So far so orthodox—there are any number of young and gifted musicians out there, all vying for competition recognition and scarce recital slots.

What sets Tiffany apart is her incorporation of social media into every aspect of her art.

As she puts it herself: “my mission is to inspire all generations, the old and the new, to appreciate classical music using social media. . . . With YouTube, Instagram, Facebook, etc, I can bridge that mysterious gap between classical music and the modern audience.”

This is most evident on her YouTube channel, where you’re as likely to see her choosing among Steinways for her New York apartment, or chatting to camera about her life and work, as to watch her preparations for performance and the performances themselves.

But oddly, it’s the videos of her practising that I enjoy most. Here you get to see the sheer hard graft and stamina that go into the maintenance of concert-levels of excellence.

Tiffany meticulously annotates it all in edit, overlaying her text comments onto the video, charting the practice process (“finding the right attack for the accent,” “too much rubato,” “needs more E♭”), where things are going wrong (“stop going to C♯” “bad landings,” “why, pinky, why?”) and when she makes them right (“solid now,” “so close, keep going,” “finally!”).

Quite apart from her almost impossibly stunning virtuosity, all this makes you feel you’re getting insights into the music itself.

And boy, do you get to hear some fabulous piano-playing along the way . . .

Tiffany’s YouTube channel here

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Voice of a woman

[ First published on Facebook 3 October 2015 ]

For my generation, Pink Floyd’s 1973 breakthrough album ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ was a seminal moment, for all sorts of reasons I won’t even try to go into here.

More than 40 years on, some of its music still stands comparison with the finest, not least in the plangent piano-and-improvised-female-vocal section of ‘The Great Gig in the Sky.’

There’s something about a female voice singing without words that—for me at any rate—goes straight for the emotional jugular.

This is ‘Eternal’ by southern-Spanish artist Nacho Sotomayor (you’ll note the Moorish influence in the vocal phrasing). Listened to it several times, assailed each time by feelings of immense, unutterable longing—although again, maybe that’s just me . . .

Came across it via Spotify, using their radio-station option with Buddha Bar as the base. How lucky we are these days to be able to get genre music app-chosen, internet-streamed, and through the witchcraft of wireless piped to the hi-fi, tv, soundbar, wherever . . .

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HDR

[ Originally posted on Facebook 18 August 2015 ]

So I’ve started dabbling a bit in High Dynamic Range (HDR) photography.

You’ve probably already seen plenty of HDR photos without realising it—they’re the ones that seem super-realistic or even outright surreal. For instance, any water photo where the water looks airbrushed is almost certainly an HDR shot, for reasons that we’ll come to presently. The human eye, it seems, views the world in HDR, so the technique can produce shots that resemble more closely what we actually see.

It’s not a particularly new thing, but I only just came across it (via John Dvorak of ‘PC Magazine,’ to whom undying thanks).

Now I’m no photographer, but long ago did on an impulse buy an entry-level Canon DSLR. And have underused it consistently ever since, eschewing the arcana of ISO, shutter speed, f-stops, white balance etc. in favour of the camera’s (admittedly very good) point-and-shoot automatics.

Which till now has worked fine. But having discovered HDR, I find myself eager to learn all about these many variables, mostly because now I have to.

See, HDR uses multiple images which are then merged to create the final photo. I’m sure that good photographers have been doing this for decades, but now digital has made it much, much easier.

What you do is take several shots of the same scene in quick succession with different exposures. This is known as exposure bracketing, and bless ’em, most DSLRs have a feature that will do it for you automatically—called (natch) Automatic Exposure Bracketing, or AEB. (And just in case it sounds like I know what I’m talking about, I’m still very much learning about all this myself. But, aside: it is interesting how quickly you can learn even abstruse technical stuff when there’s a reason to—I remember way back giving my sister Caro a quick intro to processor speeds, RAM size, hard-disk capacity/spin-speeds, other like stuff when she was looking to buy her first computer, and before I knew it she was in the shop authoritatively talking price/performance with the salesman like a seasoned pro . . . )

Anyway, in the simplest HDR you take three exposures—one normal, one under-exposed and one over-exposed. These you then put through software (I’m using Photomatix) that merges the three shots and offers you various preset/manual options of what bits to take from which. If you want to get fancier you can merge five, seven or even nine different exposures (if your camera can take ’em), giving you more options and more potential richness—as well as exponentially greater complexity and more opportunity to screw up the end result.

The attentive will already have spotted one limitation: because the different exposures are taken SEQUENTIALLY, HDR works better with subjects that aren’t moving too much (time-difference between frames = moving stuff moves). Also, unless you’re rock solid you’ll screw up the merge doing it handheld. Which tends to mean using a tripod for stability, at the risk of losing spontaneity.

So for all you inventors out there, first one to figure out how to take multiple exposures CONCURRENTLY wins the big prize . . .

And going back to airbrushed water, any technique that involves taking multiple, sequential shots of fast-moving water will produce a composite that doesn’t freeze the water’s motion at one particular time (I’d always wondered . . . ), although this issue (called ‘ghosting’) is already in part being addressed, and I’m betting will eventually be resolved as computers get quicker and the software cleverer.

The photo above shows what HDR can do, in this case using a 7-frame composite (not mine, I hasten to add): the one on the left is the original shot (it’s also the middle one in the frameset underneath). Not bad in itself, but see how merging in elements from the 6 other frames creates the stunningly detailed image on the right. (Bit garish for my own taste, but you get the, er, picture . . . )

The HDR photos below were all taken from the balcony of my Copenhagen apartment. They are a little crude I admit, but do give an idea of how HDR can add depth, and enhance the display of extremes of darkness and light.

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Master of cards

[ Originally posted on Facebook 14 August 2015 ]

I’ve always had immense admiration for those who, while pushing forwards in their own skill-sphere, respect the greatness of those who preceded them. I also find myself increasingly moved to tears by the witness of excellence.

So finding a profile of magician Ricky Jay (‘Deceptive Practice’) on Netflix just now was doubly impressive (and yes, I do seem to be watching a tad too much TV these days, but in amongst all the shoot-’em-up dross there are plenty of genuine gems).

Here is someone who has spent a lifetime perfecting the art of legerdemain, but who shares also a Ray Mears-like (I don’t have many heroes, he’s one) reverence for the knowledge of those who went before.

In this stage-show clip, Jay typically pays homage to one of his own mentors and heroes, Max Malini, but watch this mostly for his breathtaking mastery of the cards . . .

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