The beautiful perfection of dance in the form of the mantis, crane, snake, dragon or tiger.
Jackie Chan makes an unlikely dance artist. Modern films have depicted him as the action hero, defeating city gangsters. But one of his older films, showing village characters and his great sense of humour, has one of the best examples of choreograhpy - whether for dance or martial arts.
Mikhail Barishnikov paid tribute to Gene Kelly's contribution to the world of dance. And in an interview, Jackie Chan described how Buster Keaton and Gene Kelly or Fred Astaire would have to get the routine perfectly mastered. No blue screens or technology.
That is the beauty of this film of Jackie Chan's - and I can't even remember the name of it! My daughter watched it at least four times. This is the real test. Whether a film or book is old or new, if it is great, we will want it again and again.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Larkrise to Candleford
This is a particularly beautiful series, of the kind that is only done with such sensitivity and detail by the BBC. Characterising village life in England, it is a joy to watch, not only the story that unfolds, but also the attention paid to costume and set. The embroidery, tea cups or workmen's tools. Well done indeed.
I was reading, "Chewing the Cud" by Dick King-Smith, the unlikely author of "Babe the Gallant Pig" or the story of the pig that wanted to be a sheepdog. It is a wonderfully encouraging autobiography written by a man whose own life would make a wonderful series or film, it is so varied and amusing.
Like James Herriot and Gerald Durrell, these men have a way of making the ordinary extra-wonderful!
In Durrell's "Menagerie Manor" he comments that animals only really need decent food and clean living conditions to have a fair chance at survival. I wondered why we can't even do this for humans, especially human children these days?
I was reading, "Chewing the Cud" by Dick King-Smith, the unlikely author of "Babe the Gallant Pig" or the story of the pig that wanted to be a sheepdog. It is a wonderfully encouraging autobiography written by a man whose own life would make a wonderful series or film, it is so varied and amusing.
Like James Herriot and Gerald Durrell, these men have a way of making the ordinary extra-wonderful!
In Durrell's "Menagerie Manor" he comments that animals only really need decent food and clean living conditions to have a fair chance at survival. I wondered why we can't even do this for humans, especially human children these days?
Liberating technology
Just as the invention of the printing press freed so many minds from the tyranny of the few, so the internet, blog sites and self-publishing have enabled so many people to express their thoughts. And these give glimpses into humanity that have been shut down by more formal processes.
Because it seems that as soon as there is a way to say something, people start attaching lengthy conditions, and limiting imagination to circumscribed areas.
Thank goodness for the imagination of a child, that sees no limits.
Because it seems that as soon as there is a way to say something, people start attaching lengthy conditions, and limiting imagination to circumscribed areas.
Thank goodness for the imagination of a child, that sees no limits.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Modern Delights
Book review
by Ingela Richardson
What delights you? The word is very well chosen. Not what you love or like, but what gives you delight? This book is a selection of short pieces to describe what delights a variety of human beings - from actors and entertainers to writers, presenters and "national treasures" from the UK.
It is a delight to read because it celebrates everything from the simplest of pleasures to the most awe-inspiring that bring delight to people. You can dip into the book here and there - like choosing your favourite chocolates from an assortment - or devour it whole. And it will leave you feeling a wonderful sense of upliftment and recognition that being human does not only mean the drudgery of work and routine but is full of delightful moments.
One of my favourite pieces is titled, "Children dancing" by Roy Hudd. He begins: "I love to see little children dance. I don't mean the strait-jacketed, polite routines they learn at dancing school, but the strange steps they do when they're alone. When they think no one is watching. They will suddenly, for no reason at all, throw an arm into the air, try to look at their heels over their shoulders, and best of all, kick a leg out: backwards, forwards, sideways, upwards or downwards. They display steps no dance director could ever invent".
This is so true and so wonderfully delightful to see. That lack of inhibition fades all too quickly from childhood.
But there are so many delights described, including: "The perfect vodka tonic," "Ducklings", "My grandson", "When anything goes right", "Cycling downhill", "Beer at midday" and who would deny delighting in "The last roast potato"?
This little book is great fun. Published by Waterstones, all proceeds from sales go to Dyslexia Action and the London Library. It will leaving you thinking about all the things you delight in, but too seldom acknowledge. Lots of warm, fuzzy feelings, lots of laughs, lots of "Mmm, I'd forgotten that!"
by Ingela Richardson
What delights you? The word is very well chosen. Not what you love or like, but what gives you delight? This book is a selection of short pieces to describe what delights a variety of human beings - from actors and entertainers to writers, presenters and "national treasures" from the UK.
It is a delight to read because it celebrates everything from the simplest of pleasures to the most awe-inspiring that bring delight to people. You can dip into the book here and there - like choosing your favourite chocolates from an assortment - or devour it whole. And it will leave you feeling a wonderful sense of upliftment and recognition that being human does not only mean the drudgery of work and routine but is full of delightful moments.
One of my favourite pieces is titled, "Children dancing" by Roy Hudd. He begins: "I love to see little children dance. I don't mean the strait-jacketed, polite routines they learn at dancing school, but the strange steps they do when they're alone. When they think no one is watching. They will suddenly, for no reason at all, throw an arm into the air, try to look at their heels over their shoulders, and best of all, kick a leg out: backwards, forwards, sideways, upwards or downwards. They display steps no dance director could ever invent".
This is so true and so wonderfully delightful to see. That lack of inhibition fades all too quickly from childhood.
But there are so many delights described, including: "The perfect vodka tonic," "Ducklings", "My grandson", "When anything goes right", "Cycling downhill", "Beer at midday" and who would deny delighting in "The last roast potato"?
This little book is great fun. Published by Waterstones, all proceeds from sales go to Dyslexia Action and the London Library. It will leaving you thinking about all the things you delight in, but too seldom acknowledge. Lots of warm, fuzzy feelings, lots of laughs, lots of "Mmm, I'd forgotten that!"
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Blackberry Wine and Seventh Heaven
Book reviews by Ingela Richardson
Enjoying a glass of blackberry wine with Joanne Harris or entering Seventh Heaven with Alice Hoffman is experiencing a little practical magic. Everyday things become special and magical in the hands of these writers. But sometimes this kind of approach or style of writing seems to go horribly wrong.
I just re-read "Five quarters of the orange" by Joanne Harris and for the first time read "Diamond Star Halo" by Tiffany Murray. They are both narrated by women remembering girlhood days and raw emotional havoc all around them. But where Harris creates something that is tragic and believable, Murray's world is tragic and unbelievable. Possibly the latter is more factual then, as they always say fact is stranger than fiction? But some books have the bare appearance of reality when others seem to be the writer's over-indulgence, veering into the worlds of cartoon or caricature.
Perhaps sometimes authors are too much in their own created worlds? I find it very frustrating when some writers persist in creating their flawed heroes in their own images. In this way, the little nerdy guy with glasses who was always bullied at school gets to defeat all his tormentors with a terrible vengeance in the pages of his own book, but it is predictable and just not imaginative.
I don't like the world of rock 'n roll, and possibly this is why I didn't like "Diamond Star Halo" at all, feeling the shallowness of eating all icing and no cake.
By complete contrast, "Thirty-Three Teeth" by Colin Cotterill is brilliant. It is the deceptively simple, gripping tale of coroner Dr Siri Paiboun set in Laos.
Perhaps the appeal also lies in the author's own sense of humour. The more subtle, the better. Not Peter Pan's crowing, "Oh the cleverness of me!"
Enjoying a glass of blackberry wine with Joanne Harris or entering Seventh Heaven with Alice Hoffman is experiencing a little practical magic. Everyday things become special and magical in the hands of these writers. But sometimes this kind of approach or style of writing seems to go horribly wrong.
I just re-read "Five quarters of the orange" by Joanne Harris and for the first time read "Diamond Star Halo" by Tiffany Murray. They are both narrated by women remembering girlhood days and raw emotional havoc all around them. But where Harris creates something that is tragic and believable, Murray's world is tragic and unbelievable. Possibly the latter is more factual then, as they always say fact is stranger than fiction? But some books have the bare appearance of reality when others seem to be the writer's over-indulgence, veering into the worlds of cartoon or caricature.
Perhaps sometimes authors are too much in their own created worlds? I find it very frustrating when some writers persist in creating their flawed heroes in their own images. In this way, the little nerdy guy with glasses who was always bullied at school gets to defeat all his tormentors with a terrible vengeance in the pages of his own book, but it is predictable and just not imaginative.
I don't like the world of rock 'n roll, and possibly this is why I didn't like "Diamond Star Halo" at all, feeling the shallowness of eating all icing and no cake.
By complete contrast, "Thirty-Three Teeth" by Colin Cotterill is brilliant. It is the deceptively simple, gripping tale of coroner Dr Siri Paiboun set in Laos.
Perhaps the appeal also lies in the author's own sense of humour. The more subtle, the better. Not Peter Pan's crowing, "Oh the cleverness of me!"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)