Monday, December 27, 2010

Eternal return


Doubting the falsehood of nostalgia,
The lies behind the remembered glow,
Things seemed, are no more,
Or never were, but wished,
As, even now, grasping the moment,
I try to reinvent, reinterpret, re- everything.



Years ahead, less now, hoped for,
With desperation to achieve all,
Or some of it, wondering,
Why I didn’t realize then,
Even now, hoping the future,
Would bring solace and success.

In fewer moments,
I see through admiring eyes,
Easier to be honest of another,
Myself at swim and breathless,
Slowing the patterns to ready comprehension,
The more to make steady steps forward.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Searching for Conflict Resolution


I grew up in Belfast, Northern Ireland in the late ‘60s and 1970s. Political conflict between Catholics and Protestants had brought violence to the streets. Bombs were a daily occurrence and the British army had been brought in, at first to help resolve the tension, only to become the target of the violence. Was it ever thus?

Bruce Logan, one of my best friends, was a Protestant. We would play soccer after school, but then the next morning would have to ignore each other as we passed at the bus stop. School uniforms labeled us—mine the green tie of Catholic St. Malachy’s, his the blue of the Boys Model. It was more than our lives were worth for our school friends to see us greet someone from another religion or school.

Religious intolerance and conflict is rife and still ever-present in the world. It is hard to understand the subtleties or to give religious ideals credence, as, once so noble, they give way to expressions of hatred. Growing up as I did, my inclination has often been to just dismiss all religion as hypocrisy and to position myself out of the way of such conflict. Relationships, more than religion, have proven to be the fertile ground for me to experience my fair share of conflict! As such, I have been drawn to examine the nature of conflict in general and more particularly how this relates to my own problems.

Since I left Ireland (in 1992), I have visited on numerous occasions. Although it is true to say that things are better in Northern Ireland, it seemed that the populace wanted change without really wanting to change. Resolution for its own sake was difficult—there had been a war, and many people wanted victory and to see the other side humiliated. There was/is hurt all round.


Bill Clinton brokered a peace deal in Northern Ireland in what is known as the 1998 Good Friday Agreement. Part of that agreement saw the freeing of political prisoners from both sides of the Catholic/Protestant divide. Seeing known mass murders walking freely on the street was a heavy price for peace and a bitter pill to swallow. Encouraging compromise and helping to get Northern Ireland's divided community to sit down together, with the common goal of consigning violence and inequality to the past, was all part of the ex-president’s goal. How difficult it was, and is, to let go of hundreds of years of violence, hatred and mistreatment on both sides. The letting go of these attachments was the way forward. As I have oft expressed, this US brokered vision was the type of philosophy they themselves needed to adopt once they too were placed in the centre of a terrorist attack.

But I do appreciate the philosophy and see in it a clear reflection of Buddhist ideals I try to remember (and fail), that I try to implement (and fail) and thus having failed, try to let go of much guilt for such!

It bothers me greatly that I have been in conflict with other human beings on this planet. That there are people with whom I am estranged, is something that leads to me constant self examination and humility. It is also almost too much for me to bear.

As has frequently been the case I turn to His Holiness the Dalai Lama. The following thoughts are from an article about Conflict Resolution:




Dalai Lama:

There are so many causes and conditions, which produces these conflicts and problems, within these causes and conditions, it also includes your behavior and actions. For instance, when any person becomes your enemy or undesirable object, one condition of this person becoming your enemy trace back to your way of dealing and relating with the person. If you relate to this person with doubt, suspicion and ill feelings motivated with different negative thoughts, slowly and gradually other person also started disliking you; result is that both ends up hurting each other and then eventually becomes an enemy.

It seems pretty obvious! If we trace back the ways the different sides in Ireland have related to each other, the suspicions motivated with ill feeling and negative thoughts, it is clear to understand why there is such a divide and why both sides end up hating each other as enemies.

What interests me is how so many of the things done and said, in the name of their perspective causes, seemed to be motivated by reasoned arguments. Either Catholic or Protestant had/ have a perspective. Vehement arguments were made, opinions expressed, frustrations felt and misunderstandings were a plenty, all leading to arguments and thence to violence.

I too, in my ill fated relationships, have seen how easy it is to become attached to a perspective and to feel justified in stating it, or keeping to that way. Of course, as with my native land, such attachment hasn’t led to harmony or understanding.

His Holiness goes on:

Within these so many causes and conditions, your way of conducting yourself is also very much involved. But in our usual way of thinking, "we think that I have done my best to deal with this person but he behaved so badly with me, this person is so bad, I behaved sincerely, with pure motivation, but he or she gave me lots of trouble". Immediately there arise a thought of revenge in your mind. These are not dharma talks, just examine, how it came to happen. If you understand the reason, causes and conditions, time factors and so- forth, then we realize that there is no such concrete object to pinpoint as the main cause. If you think these general processes and research it, you cannot pinpoint a concrete object and consequently reduces your ill feeling.


I know! It is often hard to understand the exact meaning in his English, but I have always found it worthwhile to persevere.

To my shame, I have used words similar to this only yesterday:

"we think that I have done my best to deal with this person but he behaved so badly with me, this person is so bad, I behaved sincerely, with pure motivation, but he or she gave me lots of trouble".


Looking for the concrete object—the objective argument, the clincher—the winning line of thought doesn’t work. There isn’t one such and is more complicated than that anyhow. Nor does the search for it reduce our ill feeling. All too easily, and especially when there is no spirituality (or Dharma) in our hearts, we look for objective arguments to make, and have already lost more that we will ever gain!

The Dalai Lama says some interesting things about this:

For instance, how many wars were fought in the earlier part of the 20th century? When the wars were fought, they are fighting through targeting one concrete object as undesirable, but do not see that how many inter-connections are there.

In reality, the plan of using that much forces to destroy the opponents does not materialize since it is so much inter-related, it is therefore, earlier idea to use such forces and weapons to destroy the opponents does not eventually accomplishes. It is therefore, in the idea, one presumes there is only one concrete object, however, the reality is completely different. From the perspective of dharma, we say that it is hatred and attachment, and strong partiality of ourselves and others, by building these strong notion of self and others are based on ignorance or not knowing the reality. Ignorance of concrete grasping of self, which is diametrically opposed to the comprehension of selflessness, has caused all these problems.


It is this last bit that has really struck me. In our human way we see issues and arguments, we look for an objective truth and yet it is all really a grasping of self which causes the problem, leads to ignorance and not knowing reality.

As far as some relationships and people are concerned, I wish I could have seen some of this before. It has taken me many times and so many broken hearts (including my own) to learn. I used to tell my mother some story or problem and she would say: Yeah, you’ve leant that lesson a few times now! I’m still learning and doubtless I will make the same mistakes again.

Emotions become high, feelings hurt, “supposed” viewpoints expressed and yet what was it all for? All so pointless! As His Holiness goes on to say:

Be open from the heart and outside, in this way we can solve the problems.

and

We must solve the problem by making the matter clear through sincere motivation with honesty and justice; taking care of the interest and benefits of others and respecting them.


I, Kevin Mallon reaffirm my wish to live this way and to deal with people in an open and honest fashion.




This is what His Holiness says about trying to deal with conflict:

Secondly another main cause of conflict is not being justice and honest. For these things one must take counter measure. There is another technique to deal with such problems. If the conflict arises due to different interest and approach, in such cases, both are true from their side. For these problems, we must have to be open in our discussion and dialogue with honesty and sincerity. Neither to feel afraid of each other nor it is wise to talk differently and think differently. With honest motive, one should say that you have these benefits and I have this. Now we both should receive the benefits therefore, we should do in this way, there is nothing to hide each other, and there is no need to deceive each other. Be open from the heart and outside, in this way we can solve the problems. If, by being dishonest, we do not go to the right direction then problem will definitely arise and of course, it is your mistake since you are telling lies. If the problem arises due to telling lies then one must not tell lie and keep the right track of honesty. There is no other solution than this. We must solve the problem by making the matter clear through sincere motivation with honesty and justice; taking care of the interest and benefits of others and respecting them. I think that there is ways to think in this way.

You can see the complete article at:

http://acharyanyima.com/translations/conflict_resolution-hhdl.html

Saturday, November 13, 2010

voice- box


voice-box


When I was young it was all about Cassius Clay, as he was before he became Muhammad Ali. That’s probably even the first time I heard the term Muhammad. He would "float like a butterfly, sting like a bee”. Hard too, to ignore the terrible state he was in later, dilapidated with Parkinson's disease — as he carried the reminders

Of ev'ry glove that layed him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains

Over the years boxing movies have caught my attention—from Daniel Day Lewis’ The Boxer, to Hilary Swank in Million Dollar Baby. It was the human story that I focused on—yeah right! How can you deny the metaphor of the characters fighting in the ring and out, both physically and mentally? I have always admired the discipline involved even as the sight of two humans beating the crap out of each other made my would- be Buddhist nature squirm!

All of this has been in my mind as I contemplate the boxing opera in which my singer, boxer- friend Vilma Vitols is involved. Entitled voice-box: a competitive concert in a boxing ring by interdisciplinary collective urbanvessel, to date two performances have taken place at the Harborfront Centre and there are two more to come—this evening, Saturday, November 13, at 8:00 PM and tomorrow afternoon, November 14, at 2:00 PM


Here’s the official description:

Featuring some of Canada's most unique vocal performers in the worlds of jazz, cabaret and opera, voice-box draws upon vocal techniques ranging from scat-singing and sound poetry to throat-singing and gospel. voice-box plays with gender and power dynamics, as vocal improvisation and boxing bring body and voice together in a battle for victory. Audience members engage with the work through interactive roles as judges, fans and gamblers, while performers shift fluidly between boxers, coaches, referees and commentators.

http://www.harbourfrontcentre.com/whatson/freshground/voicebox.cfm

Since I was due to be away for the performances (I’m in Abu Dhabi as I write this), I went to the dress rehearsal.

Beautiful slow motion choreography, but one boxer hits - “Oh, I’m sorry.” Boxing predators change into glamorous cabaret singers with feather boas.

“In 1991 Jenny Reid, a woman, a lawyer and a boxer fought at all costs to get into the ring. “

Mixed Match paddy whack- Margaret "Tiger" Mac Gregor beat a man!

The referee, dances, from ballet to tango to waltz- the boxers
” choose to be black and blue”, it’s like a badge of honor.

“I’m no victim, I gotta fist of steel—this ugly beauty can take a punch”

Tea time!

Little boxing girls in tutus, giggling girls – all as a front to really, hit the other. Let’s face it girls can be mean!

She: titface!
Her: uptight!
She: vain!
Her: Xena wannabe!
She: zit!
Her: androgynous!
She: butch!
Her: control freak!
She: dyke!
Her: egotistical!
She: gross!
Her: hermaphrodite!
She: insecure!
Her: joke!
She: knock-kneed!
Her: macho!
She: nobody!
Her: ooooooooooo old!
She: poser!

leaves

She: quitter!

But there is love
Dancers sing Carmen: "L'amour est un oiseau rebelle." ("Love is a rebellious bird") but it becomes all a frenzy- primal- all building up for the big fight—the main event! Will you be there to tell the tale?

Let’s hear it for:

Fighters
Savoy "Kapow!" Howe
Vilma "The Vilminator" Vitols
Christine "Trouble Clef" Duncan
Neema "Stealth Bomber" Bickersteth

Announcer = Juliet "Piranha" Palmer (composer)
Card Girl = Anna "Chew 'em up" Chatterton (writer)
Referee = Julia "Bad Apple" Aplin (choreographer/director)

When I ran my opera company in Ireland between 2004 and 2009, I was happy to be involved in large- scale main stream opera projects, albeit that I had to fight with the Board of Directors to do anything that wasn’t the stand and deliver type of production! With the economic decline in Ireland the company folded last year and I have oft thought that a smaller more vital enterprise woulda, coulda shoulda survived. So, when Vilma described the boxing opera concept I was definitely intrigued, because I think that from this sort of mixed media collaboration we may find a new way of presenting music and opera to a more diverse audience. It is an interesting and engaging concept - expertly and entertaining put together. Well done – given much food for thought!

Kevin Mallon
November 13, 2010

Monday, September 6, 2010

English tenor Gervase Elwes



You may have enjoyed the singing of Gervase Elwes on the last blog, so here is a little about him:

Gervase Henry Cary-Elwes (15 November 1866 – 12 January 1921), always known as Gervase Elwes, was an English tenor of great distinction, who exercised a powerful influence over the development of English music. His career was cut short in 1921 when he was involved in fatal railroad accident in Boston, Massachusetts.

There is a great Wiki page about him:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gervase_Elwes

I qoute from that page:


Background to his career

He was born in Billing, Northampton, the son of Alice Geraldine (née Ward) and Valentine Dudley Henry Cary-Elwe.Of the Northamptonshire and Lincolnshire county gentry, he attended The Oratory School (a Roman Catholic school) and moved to Woburn School, Weybridge in 1885, leaving for Christ Church, Oxford in 1885, where he was active as a cricketer and violinist. At the age of 22 he married Lady Winifride Feilding. He first trained as a lawyer and diplomat, spending some years in Brussels. It was there that he began formal singing lessons at the age of 28. However he had to overcome a social convention of resistance to one of his class his making a professional career as a singer, and not until the early 1900s, in his late thirties, did he gave his first professional performances in London. His principal teachers were Jacques Bouhy in Paris (1901–1903), and in London Henry Russell and Victor Biegel, who remained his friend and teacher throughout his life. Bouhy asked him to decide between a baritone career in opera or a tenor career in oratorio and concert (and he chose the latter).

His first professional appearance in London was opposite Agnes Nicholls, in Wallfahrt nach Kevlaar by Engelbert Humperdinck at the St James's Hall, with the Handel Society under J. S. Liddle in late April 1903, and immediately afterwards he appeared at the Westmorland Festival. In June 1903 he was auditioned at the Royal College of Music in London by Charles Villiers Stanford, who left the room and brought Hubert Parry in to hear him as well. The violinist Professor Kruse, who was then attempting to revive the Saturday 'Pops' at the St James's Hall jumped out of his chair and promptly engaged him, and it was Kruse who arranged for his first appearance in Edward Elgar's The Dream of Gerontius early in 1904 as an addition to his Beethoven Festival. Harry Plunket Greene, who had encouraged Elwes through this audition, also remained his lifelong friend.


The character of his voice

Elwes had a voice entirely in the English colouring, but with an unusual quality of sincerity and passion, and of considerable power. His diction and intonation were very secure, his delivery somewhat ‘gentlemanly’ but his phrasing long in conception and serving intense melodic inflections. His singing possessed a spiritual fervour deriving from the religious disposition of his parents, who had taken the unusual step (for their class) of conversion to Catholicism when he was five years old.
Victor Biegel, a 'little round, bald Viennese', was for some time accompanist to the celebrated German lieder singer Raimund von zur-Mühlen and had a special understanding of the songs of Johannes Brahms, which he imparted to Elwes. There was a great rapport, and his teaching, especially during his six-month residence at Billing Hall (an Elwes estate) in 1903, completely freed and relaxed Elwes' voice, opening the way for the sustained power and brilliance of his upper register, and the vocal stamina which enabled him to maintain great oratorio roles (for which he was much in demand) with absolute conviction through a singing career of nearly two decades.


But it was as singer of English art-song, and the friend of many leading English composers, that he left his most permanent legacy. He was the dedicatee and first performer of (and the first person to record) Ralph Vaughan Williams cycle On Wenlock Edge and many of the finest songs of Roger Quilter (including the cycle To Julia), both of whom wrote with his voice in mind In 1912 he gave the first performance of Thomas Dunhill's song-cycle The wind among the reeds for the Philharmonic Society. He had the wholehearted admiration of every generation from Charles Villiers Stanford to Frank Bridge, and their successors still acknowledge the authority of his influence. He was also a wonderful inspiration to leading British singers of his time, as their many private and published memorials of him testify.

His death

Elwes died aged 55, at the height of his powers, in a horrific accident at Back Bay railway station in Boston, Massachusetts, in the midst of a high-profile recital tour of the United States. Elwes and his wife had alighted on the platform when the singer attempted to return to the conductor an overcoat which had fallen off the train. He leaned over too far and was hit by the train, falling between the train and the platform. He died of his injuries a few hours later. The tremendous loss felt by the musical establishment, the churches, and the population in general left the impression not merely of a great singer, but of a great man, whom many who never met him felt they knew personally through his singing. In short, he was loved. A week after the event, Edward Elgar wrote to Percy Hull, 'my personal loss is greater than I can bear to think upon, but this is nothing - or I must call it so - compared to the general artistic loss - a gap impossible to fill - in the musical world.'


Here are some more tracks by him!







That is the land of lost content


I have been struck by the following poem form Housman’s A Shropshire Lad and inspired to express some thoughts.


XL
Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows.
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.

(A.E. Housman)


I love this poem. There is a nostalgia and melancholy in the style that reminds us of a simpler time in life. It is a nostalgia borne from the English countryside along with the dark, brooding weather. Set in Shropshire (the land of lost content), A Shropshire Lad is a set of sixty- three poems of which the one above is number 40. The overall theme is of the inevitability of death (especially of young soldiers) and of religion’s inability to console. Better then, to live life to the full, for we never know when we may die.

Written in 1896, the poems start by charting the Shropshire lads who had died in the service of Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee (1887) but it wasn’t until the Second Boer War (1899–1902), or World War I (1914-1918) that the poems become particularly popular. A whole host of British composers were inspired to set the them to music: Arthur Somervell, George Butterworth and Ralph Vaughan Williams, Ivor Gurney, John Ireland and Ernest John Moeran.

There is a simple song-like quality to the words that lends them easily to music. At first glance, the poem is quite simple, “plain” even, but there is a deeper level which helps to draw us in:

Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows.


The air that blows is the wind blowing like a song, an air, sighing, blowing, touching the heart.

What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?


The Blue melancholy hills- the depiction of emotion with nature is juxtaposed with the spiritual realm of the church spire and the farm as a symbol of toiling with the land.

That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,


Such a strange land of no content, we are led to a shining plain- the plain of simplicity and the plain plateau. Perhaps this is the line which struck me the most. As usual, seeking to determine my place and the land I live on, the changing tide of landscape renders everywhere strange and of no content.

The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.

The happy highways which once celebrated the passage between locations, perhaps to visit loved ones who will never be seen again.

I too have travelled happy highways where I went and cannot come again. Sometimes I can hardly bear that thought and wonder if all my happiness is behind me.

Here is Housman reading three other poems from A Shropshire Lad including the most famous: On Wenlock Edge.

Listen to him read and follow along below!



IV - REVEILLE

Wake: the silver dusk returning
Up the beach of darkness brims,
And the ship of sunrise burning
Strands upon the eastern rims.

Wake: the vaulted shadow shatters,
Trampled to the floor it spanned,
And the tent of night in tatters
Straws the sky-pavilioned land.

Up, lad, up, 'tis late for lying:
Hear the drums of morning play;
Hark, the empty highways crying
`Who'll beyond the hills away?'

Towns and countries woo together,
Forelands beacon, belfries call;
Never lad that trod on leather
Lived to feast his heart with all.

Up, lad: thews that lie and cumber
Sunlit pallets never thrive;
Morns abed and daylight slumber
Were not meant for man alive.

Clay lies still, but blood's a rover;
Breath's a ware that will not keep.
Up, lad: when the journey's over
There'll be time enough to sleep.

XXXI

On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble;
His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves;
The gale, it plies the saplings double,
And thick on Severn snow the leaves.

'Twould blow like this through holt and hanger
When Uricon the city stood:
'Tis the old wind in the old anger,
But then it threshed another wood.

Then, 'twas before my time, the Roman
At yonder heaving hill would stare:
The blood that warms an English yeoman,
The thoughts that hurt him, they were there.

There, like the wind through woods in riot,
Through him the gale of life blew high;
The tree of man was never quiet:
Then 'twas the Roman, now 'tis I.

The gale, it plies the saplings double,
It blows so hard, 'twill soon be gone:
To-day the Roman and his trouble
Are ashes under Uricon.



XXXII

From far, from eve and morning
And yon twelve-winded sky,
The stuff of life to knit me
Blew hither: here am I.

Now -- for a breath I tarry
Nor yet disperse apart --
Take my hand quick and tell me,
What have you in your heart.

Speak now, and I will answer;
How shall I help you, say;
Ere to the wind's twelve quarters
I take my endless way.


Or if you like, you can listen to the follow recording and read the previous 2 poems!

English tenor Gervase Elwes (1866-1921) / On Wenlock Edge (Vaughan Williams; A. E. Housman) / with the London String Quartet ~ Frederick B. Kiddle - piano / (a) On Wenlock Edge; (b) From far, from eve and morning, (c) Is my team plowing? / Recorded: 1917 --



Friday, August 27, 2010

U2: With Or Without You

Belonging

I had lunch today with my good friend Treasa O Driscoll. I met Treasa through Carol Gimbel who rightly thought that we two Irish souls should connect over a cup of day one dark Autumn evening. Treasa first came to Canada to accompany her husband, Robert O Driscoll, who founded the Celtic Studies department at the University of Toronto. By all accounts Robert was a force of nature - and his larger than life persona may have obscured the amazing talents his wife possessed. Thankfully, that is not my issue, for my introduction to Treasa was one where her abilities as a singer of traditional Irish sean nos songs and her remarkable memory of a huge volume of poetry, place her very definitely as a remarkable person in her own right.

I could write about her all day and will write more—anyone who wants to hear her speak and sing can hear her instantly at: http://www.bluebutterflybooks.ca/titles/celtic.html

This is the website of her book Celtic Woman- A Memoir of Life's Poetic Journey

But this is all an introduction to the conversation we had today.

As exiles form Ireland she and I have oft spoken about the nature of being Irish outside of Ireland. We are not the first to contemplate this situation. But somehow, it has become ever important for me to define who and what I am, where I fit in on this planet and especially to explore the context of my experience of Ireland and my Irish heritage. Where do I belong? - Whatever that means!

Today this quest brought me to Beckett’s radio play “all that fall” and in particular some words of the main character Maddy Rooney:

It is suicide to be abroad. But what is it to 
be at home, Mr. Tyler, what is it to be at 
home? A lingering dissolution.

Suicide to be abroad—but to be at home it’s a lingering dissolution!

With the wonders of the internet it is possible to get the whole play on line at:
http://www.questia.com/read/1399676

And there is a great wikipedia page abut the play at:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/All_That_Fall

It is well worth a read.

Beckett easily brings us back to a dreary day in the country where Maddy is waiting for the train to arrive and deliver her husband—yeah, it’s always the waiting game with Beckett! The empty anticipation well describes the nature of the Irish immigrant and exile experience, unresolved and uneasy.

It’s hardly the same context, but I think that U2’s song “I cant live with or without” touches the same feelings of loss and yet again it’s the waiting that does it!

See the stone set in your eyes
See the thorn twist in your side.
I wait for you.
Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait without you

With or without you
With or without you.

Through the storm, we reach the shore
You gave it all but I want more
And I'm waiting for you

With or without you
With or without you.
I can't live with or without you.

And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away
And you give, and you give
And you give yourself away.

My hands are tied, my body bruised
She´s got me with nothing to win
And nothing left to lose.

And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away
And you give, and you give
And you give yourself away.

With or without you
With or without you
I can't live
With or without you.

With or without you
With or without you
I can't live
With or without you
With or without you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TxIjlo1ZPcQ


Stay tuned for my musings on the subject of finding a state of belonging.