The Glasgow Film Festival red carpet devoid of stars and unfortunately under surveillance by a security guard otherwise I'd have slipped on to it for a selfie.

One of the strands in the festival celebrated the centenary of Marilyn Monroe's birth with a screening of a number of her films.  I met up with Andrew for one of our irregular lunch dates and we went to see The Prince and the Showgirl. It's famous or perhaps notorious for its pairing of her with Laurence Olivier and for the difficulties that she brought to the production.  I was seeing it for the first time and thought it was a super film, a very amusing comedy with excellent performances from the entire cast.  I wouldn't altogether agree with the lady who introduced the film's judgement that Monroe acted Olivier off the set but she was very very good and I'm sure suited the part better than Vivien Leigh who performed with Olivier in the stage version. 

I was disappointed though with the other festival film that I saw, The Wizard of the Kremlin.  Partly that's because I'd misunderstood the publicity I'd seen.  I thought it was a dramatised documentary about Putin (think Mr Bates and the Post Office) but while backgrounded by real events and people it was in fact a wholly fictional account of a wholly fictional right-hand man to Putin. Also it was not very good as looking at the Reception section of the Wikipedia article I've linked will show you.

An amusing sidebar to the festival was that included with the usual request about mobile phone use screened before the film was the information that in the fight against movie piracy cinema staff might observe us through night vision goggles.

Observation is the name of the game for documentary filmmakers.  Some fine examples of the genre were on show at The Outhouse last week thanks to DOCo.  There was a period some ten or fifteen years ago when I performed in a number of student films and occasionally I come across the work of some of the then students who are now fully fledged filmmakers.  One of them is Duncan Cowles and I went to The Outhouse to see his recent short film Neil Armstrong and the Langholmites.  Langholm is the centre of the border area which is the ancestral home of the Armstrongs and Neil visited it a few years after his moon landing in 1969 and was made a feeman of the town.  The film includes some archive footage of his visit but the bulk of this quietly humorous essay consists of interviews with townspeople who were there 50 odd years ago and the town's commemoration of the event.  The film gives us a lovely warm slice of humanity.

There were a number of other fine short documentaries screened that evening and one of the organisers of the event, Lucas Kao, was another man from my student film past.

It's a book;  It's a film;  It's a TV series: as we say when playing charades.  One Day has been all of these and I haven't seen/read any of them but now it's also a musical play which I have seen and which is TERRIFIC as Trump would surely post were he to drop into the Lyceum over the next two or three weeks.

Brilliant staging, super performances, a profoundly moving show.  You couldn't ask for more.  I was at a preview.  It's official opening is tonight.  It can only be better.

I rarely express an opinion on how a piece of music is played because I don't have either the ears or the knowledge but I did hear a performance of Beethoven's Violin Concerto at the Usher Hall recently that I found rather bland in comparison to more muscular and vigorous performances I've heard, notably from Nicola Benedetti.  At the Usher Hall also I heard Strauss's Horn Concerto which I haven't heard often enough to have any sort of opinion on.  The wonder of the performance was that the player played the horn with his foot.

I'm on safer ground saying whether I enjoyed a piece or not and the SCO gave me a great deal of pleasure with their performanc of Schnittke's Gogol Suite.  Lot's of lovely smash, bang, wallop in that one.  It's on Spotify though not their performance.

Most of us have come across the Japanese print The Great Wave off Kanagawa at some time.  Scottish Opera with Japanese partners have now created The Great Wave, an opera that deals with the life and work of the artist Hokusai and his daughter.  It was performed at the Festival Theatre and I went with Claire and Phil who are not that long back from Japan and of course I have an interest in the country.  None of us are particularly opera fans but we enjoyed the show and agree with the critics that it was visually striking, ambitious and beautifully produced but a bit short on drama.

The National Gallery of Scotland is running a short series of talks on the renovation and conservation of historice buildings.  The first one dealt with the recovery of Notre Dame cathedral after the tremendous fire a few years ago.  It was very interesting and explored the history of the building and its various additions and changes over the centuries.  The question in such circumstances always arises as to what should be restored or conserved. The interior of the cathedral looks sparkling new but should the grime of ages have been left as it was?  Towards the end of the talk there was a comparison with the approach to Coventry cathedral's restoration and to the restoration of the Frauenkirche in Dresden.  The former retained part of the ruins and added on a brand new modern design while the latter rebuilt the whole church incorporating much of the original fabric.

I spent this past weekend at Stirling university on a saxophone weekend.  Given the state of my lungs, the fact that I haven't done any regular playing for eight months and my recent stay in hospital I was very pleased at how well I coped.  I'm encouraged to do a bit more playing again but not going out on wet and cold nights to play in draughty unheated churches.

The Winter Olympics are in full swing but this picture is of an international match played at Murrayfield just a few days before the Olympics started.  Poland, Slovenia, Ukraine and Great Britain fought it out over three days in front of enthusiastic crowds. I had a ticket for the first day which entitled me to see two matches but I saw only one, Slovenia versus Poland.  That match finished before 4pm leaving a long gap before the evening match.  I spent the gap at home and couldn't find the energy to go out into the rain again when it came to it.  I enjoyed what I did see though and it whetted my appetite for the Olympic ice hockey games.

I've been glued to the TV's excellent all day coverage of every conceivable event including ice hockey.  A number of British athletes who were hyped up before the games haven't managed to deliver while coming creditably close but at today's date GB has had three successes and more may follow. 

Crans Montana where they had that dreadful fire at New Year is where I learnt to ski and Cortina, the Olympic venue, is the last place I skiied, the year before Covid hit us.  I can't say that I recognised any of Crans Montana in the reporting but I did recognise the centre of Cortina and even a couple of the rock formations on the slopes.  The mountain views there and at the other centres were gorgeous.  I grabbed a couple of pictures from my TV screen.

View of Cortina as seen from the BBC Olympic studio

     

Olympic flame in Cortina

The opening ceremony was fun and was very cleverly orchestrated between Milan, Cortina and other event venues.

I had to do a bit of channel hopping to keep an eye on the six nations rugby competition.  I saw France comprehensively demolish Ireland and Scotland battle unsuccessfully in a continuous downpour against Italy only to triumph a week later in the Calcutta Cup. 

Carlos Acosta's ballet company brought their Cuban flavoured Nutcracker to the Festival Theatre. The blend of classical dance and music with Cuban sounds and movements made for an enjoyable evening but as the review I've linked says, the Cuban element was dropped in the second half to the detriment of the production.  

Much of the figure skating on display at the Olympics is essentialy ballet on ice.  The lifts and throws that the skaters achieve evoke even more admiration and wonder than does the athleticism of the stage performers.

The weather on St Valentines's Day broke the pattern of miserable, cold and wet weather that has persisted for some weeks.  Instead we had blue skies and crisp air.  So I went out for an excursion and in the garden of Inveresk Lodge came across a tree with this appropriate formation.

      

Here's my contribution to the Scottish Snowdrop Festival.  They flowered well before Christmas and I'm pretty sure will be dead long before the official end of the snowdrop season. But they are a joy to have on the balcony for a few weeks.

After his skiing trip Ewan went down to Keswick to see his mum.  Connor brought him back up to Edinburgh and we went out to lunch at Howie's in Waterloo Place. Apart from the food being very good there, as evidenced by the fact that it was packed on a Tuesday lunchtime, it was chosen because Claire, who joined us, works just across the road.

The following day Ewan flew back to America after having been my lifesaver/domestic slave for six weeks or so.  I went out in the afternoon to a U3A meeting.  They have a general meeting every month at which in addition to whatever U3A business needs to be attended to there's a talk.  I often find myself thinking that it looks interesting and that I must go but seldom do and this was the first occasion I'd been to the venue they currently use.  Like Howie's it was packed and I was lucky to get a seat.  The talk itself was about a beer duty fraud carried out in Edinburgh in the 1920s and 30s not much more than 100 yards from where the U3A meeting was being held.  It was a super talk well presented and illustrated by a  chap who maintains a website of  events in Edinburgh's long and interesting history.  It's well worth a browse.  

I made my first visit of 2026 to the Filmhouse with Mary to see Rental Family.  It's quite a jolly piece that declares itself to be a comedy-drama about an American actor living in Tokyo who gets employment with a company that supplies actors to play roles in various family occasions, such as groom for a wedding that's not really a wedding but is being held to mask the bride's sexuality and intention to emigrate with her real love.  There was also some sort of dummy funeral which amused me although I didn't understand the point of it.  Our hero then is tasked with pretending to be the father of a girl of around 10 or 11 who doesn't know he's not really her father. This is all tugging at the heartstrings stuff so when the truth comes out and the girl is distraught we are too.  Spoiler alert - there's a happy ending.

New Oleans jazz at the Assembly Roxy was my next outing and I rounded off  the most active week I've had since before going into hospital with a non Burns Supper evening of delicious haggis.

The following week was much quieter.  I went for a walk up town and took a few pictures including this panorama of one of my favourite views.  It was not a bad day but bitterly cold and I took advantage of a pleasant little cafe to warm up my camera wielding hands by wrapping them round a cappuccino.

I went to hear the SCO play Mozart's last three symphonies in the Usher Hall. I'm not a great fan of Mozart.  I like his operas and his choral pieces but I can do without the symphonies.  Not that you can fault the guy for effort to please since he wrote somewhere between 40 and 50, and 30 of those before he was 18.  I suppose I do enjoy hearing some of them but three on one evening was just too much.

Last outing of the week was dinner with friends where I consumed delicious vegetarian middle easternish dishes and went home with a goodie bag of tablet.

  

On the back of disappointment about the availability and cost of Winter Olympics tickets I decided to go to Sheffield for a week in January in the hope of seeing Lewis Gibson and Lilah Frear surpassing their World Ice Dancing Bronze Medal by taking Gold in the European competition.

In the event I decided that while my recovery from bowel cancer surgery would be up to sitting in an ice-rink it was maybe not up to the concomitant midwinter travel and traipsing around.  So I sacrificed my ticket.  I did try to pass it on to a worthy recipient and then post it for sale on the ticketing website but there were no takers.

The whole event was live streamed on Youtube and much of it was available on BBC iPlayer so I watched most of it in the comfort of my own home.  Britain's chances looked good after the first section of the ice dancing event when Gibson and Frear lay second but a small error in the second section cost them a couple of points and relegation to third position. 

Better luck at the Olympics perhaps. 

Christmas and New Year were as you might expect quite quiet.  Ewan laid on an excellent turkey dinner on Christmas Day, even going so far as to include sprouts for my pleasure.  He can't stand them despite my well meaning but failed attempts to force feed them to him in his high chair.

New Year's Eve was a little livelier. Ross and Claire came round and we had snacks and drinks into the early hours followed, once again thanks to Ewan's catering prowess by a traditional New Year's Day steak pie.

Ewan went off to Austria last week to ski and left me to fend for myself.  I had no problems and extended my range outdoors from Tesco and Sainsbury's to a barber on Leith Walk, a stroll in Princes St Gardens and a couple of circular walks locally.

The pace is heating up this week.  See the next post.   

 

This is a work by the admirable Andy Goldsworthy who is a master at making art out of natural materials.  Included in an exhibition celebrating 50 years of achievent it's made of ferns.  There was lots of other lovely stuff as you'll see if you follow the link.

I was looking forward to seeing The Glass Menagerie at The Lyceum but in the event I was disappointed.  Unlike the critics I must add who all loved it.  Most were particularly complimentary about the lighting.  I thought it was a bit dark.  More importantly I didn't get much of an emotional hit from the production.

I didn't get an emotional hit either from Enda Walsh's Arlington at The Traverse.  It came over to us from The Tron and this reviewer loved it.  I sort of enjoyed it and the 25 minute solo dance sequence in the middle was mighty impressive.  Not a drop of sweat appeared on the actor's brow.  But it was weird and if it had meaning it escaped me.

A much more accessible play and a very fine production came from the Grads who put on The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.  It was altogether excellent - imaginatively staged and well performed by a large cast with a fine central performance from young Iain Goldie.

The fascinating story of John Davidson from Galashiels who has Tourette's syndrome has been made into a film called I Swear.  It's well worth going to see - dramatic, moving and ultimately uplifting.  A documentary was made  about him some years ago and an interesting feature of the film is that clips from the documentary are interposed at the end as the credits roll.

In my less than intense pursuit of Japanese culture I went to see a classic, not to say cult, animation  Princess Mononoke.  My feelings about animation are a bit equivocal.  I find it hard to completely shake off the feeling that animation is for kids.  But as the Wikipedia entry shows there's a lot of technical excellence as well as an important environmental message in this film and I enjoyed it well enough.

I went with no expectations to see Blue Moon to use up my last "free" Cameo ticket.  Now that Filmhouse is back in action I don't feel that I need Cameo membership as well.  It's a super film with a wonderful performance from Ethan Hawke as Lorenz Hart.  Set in Sardi's on the triumphant opening night of Oklahoma we share Hart's bitterness and jealousy as Oscar Hammerstein replaces him as lyricist to Richard Rodgers.  Wikipedia tells you about it and The Guardian tells you how good it is.

I do tend to forget things and although my diary tells me I went to an RSNO concert featuring Beethoven's Eroica the rest of the programme has escaped my mind.  Fortunately this review fills in the blanks and reminds me of how much I enjoyed the evening especially the first half.

The Zambia Society Trust holds its AGM in London in November.  I've attended in person a couple of times, combining it with a visit to my friend David who was on the committee.  David lives in Lusaka these days but I can still attend online thanks to modern technology.  There's the usual AGM type business but also always something of wider interest.  This year there was a video about developments at a school in the Copperbelt. I tend to think of the Copperbelt in terms of its urban settlements but this school was deep in the bush.  Thanks to many people including ZST members new classrooms have been built and a borehole dug to supply water.  One young woman whose family farms in the area cycled 900 kilometres through the bush to raise funds.  It was an inspiring story.

Siobhan treated a number of us to a very pleasant lunch a few weeks ago, a precursor to the feast promised us by Christmas which this year is being provided to me by Ewan.  He has come all the way from America to look after me while I convalesce following my right hemi colectomy.  That came about as a result of the more or less accidental discovery that I had bowel cancer during an investigation of the reasons that I was experiencing shortness of breath.  Those reasons boil down to decades of smoking.  They won't chop bits of my lungs out though.  I just have to put up with that helped by an inhaler.

I don't intend to post again before New Year so Merry Christmas and all that to all my readers. 

A peep over the Dean Bridge to the valley below shows the trees beginning to take on Autumn colours.

Autumn's also the season when orchestras and theatre companies rise from whatever summer slumber they've managed to enjoy.  The Citizen's Theatre over in Glasgow has emerged from about seven years of semi slumber during which they performed in various venues while their building was refurbished.   It looks good in media reports but I haven't managed to get over to see it yet.

On this side of the country though I managed to see the Lyceum's first production, The Seagull, which I enjoyed very much.  The last time I can remember seeing it was an outdoor production in Duddingston Kirk's grounds. I'm sure it was fine but it was probably a bit parky and the seating less than comfortable.  On those grounds alone even in restricted view seats The Lyceum experience was much better.

I also saw at The Traverse (which hasn't been slumbering) a new play called Black Hole Sign.  It's set in an NHS hospital during a night shift and shows the staff coping with one thing and another, including a hole in the ceiling.  It's been pretty well universally acclaimed but while I enjoyed it I didn't find it particularly enlightening about the NHS or the action very dramatic.  For a more positive opinion try here or even more positive The Indiependent.  That's the sort of minor spelling difference that could lose you a fortune in a scam email!

On the music front I went with Sarah to hear the SNJO play the music of Weather Report.  This was their first gig since the resignation of Tommy Smith.  It suffered from the loss of his practiced skill with apposite anecdotes but stood up well musically.  We had a meal beforehand at a little place near the Queen's Hall, Cafe Andamiro, which is well worth a visit. 

The RSNO and the SCO both got their seasons underway.  The former gave us Ravel's Piano Concerto in G which was lovely and Mahler's 7th Symphony which entertained me less. I'm more enthusiastic about the SCO's second concert of the season (I missed the first one) which included  two choral works, Poulenc's Gloria and Vivaldi's Gloria.  I loved both but particularly the Poulenc.  I daresay it's because I can't sing a note that I enjoy choral works.

Thanks to Claire I managed to catch an exhibition of John Bellany self portraits just before it closed.  They covered his whole career from his student days to his final stay in hospital.  Magnificent stuff.  

During the festival I went with Claire and Ross to see Scottish Ballet's production of Mary Queen of Scots.  We enjoyed it so much that we booked to see it again on its return to Edinburgh.  This time we were in the second front row rather than somewhere in the back stalls.  The benefit was considerable.  We had a much better view of the detail of all the facets of the performance, dancing, choreography, acting even the music.  And we'd a better idea of the storyline they'd developed which helped us follow what was going on.

Claire's sister Ruth was up here for a few days around her birthday and I joined them for lunch one Sunday at The Shore, one of my favourite places though I hadn't been there for yonks.  The late Brian Kellock used to provide a jazz accompaniment to Sunday lunch and the tradition has been continued with a pianist and bass player whse names I don't know.

 

On the other side of this strange carbuncle in Kirkcaldy's war memorial gardens is a plaque that tells us that it's a  monument, unveiled in July by Charles and Camilla, erected to celebrate the centenary of Kirkcaldy Galleries. Glimpse them in the background. 

I'd gone over in the expectation of seeing a centenary exhibition. In the cafe there was a fine display of a number of items from the over 1000 pieces of Wemyss ware pottery they possess.  Apparently you can tour their collection centre in Glenrothes to see the lot. I squashed my phone up against the glass case to get this larg snout.

There was also a large circular tapestry showing significant local/world reminders of each of the decades since 1925.  I didn't get a picture of that nor did I find much else in the way of exhibition but I didn't go upstairs.  It may have been there despite an absence of signage.

But it was a nice warm sunny day and I had a coffee and a sweetmeat across the road in the grounds of the Adam Smith Theatre.

I have had one other trip this month when I went to Aberdour to have lunch with a friend up from Englandshire. Pleasant lunch but awful weather which drove me straight home when I'd much rather have had a wee saunter.

Another lunch out was with Claire and Ross in Stockbridge.  I'd gone down there early with the intention of getting a haircut but was turned away from no fewer that five barbers such was the frenetic male grooming activity going on.  I whiled away the time in the library.

The Golden Spurtle was a fun documentary film about the 2023 World Porridge Making Championship.  There were delightful vignettes of both organisers and competitors revealing their interesting and generally unconventional personalities to camera. 

Not revealing much of his personality was the quiet protagonist of The Boy and the Suit of Lights.  He very much gave off the strong silent type vibe in this Spanish documentary.  He was set on the path of becoming a bullfighter but it turned out this was largely to satisfy his grandfather's thwarted ambition and when his grandfather died he packed it in.

It's been a quiet month.