Keating!

In Melbourne again, and on Friday night Marlowe, Tintarella, Violet Towne and I gave ourselves up to the brilliant, loud, sharp and funn-ee Australian musical Keating! No, not songs about what fun it is to keat, but a romp through the political landscape 1990 to 1996, the rise and reign of Paul Keating. Some of you will already know of my slavish admiration of the Zegna-suited, sharp-tongued, suave Mr K, Prime Minister, Man of Integrity and bookstore customer.

The show was a cracker. The musical is through-composed* in a wonderful and loving pastische of styles. It is written by Casey Bennetto, directed by Neil Armfield, with the gorgeous Mike McLeish as Keating ("I Am The Man"). Terry Serio is both the Silver Budgie**, and an at first hilarious, then creepingly chilling John Howard ("The Captain of the Mate Ship"). Eddie Perfect killed in fishnets and corset as Alexander Downer singing the lush "I'm Too Freaky". Indeed. The band were tremendous, with keyboardist Enio Pozzebon ably standing in for Gareth Gareth Evans ("Good Heavens Mr Evans"), safari suit and all.

I was dreading the election result which must inevitably end the show, and as McLeish sang the soulful "Light On The Hill" my eyes welled with tears. And then - oh can it be - they gave me a glorious moment, a moment when I could believe that the last eleven years have been just a dream, just a dream.

It's on at the beautiful Comedy Theatre (completed in 1928) and soon at Belvoir Street (just re-opened after extensive renos). See it if you can.

*fancy-schmancy theatre-speak for "there's no talking"
**ex Labor Prime Minister Bob Hawke

Trachemys scripta

In Hamburg there is a park. In the park there is a lake. On that lake there is a raft. On that raft there live some terrapins. Their name is Gelbwangen-Schmuckschildkroete.

Time's winged chariot

Our neighbour died in her bed on Friday. She was found yesterday. Police Rescue opened the door with a crowbar.


Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.

bunnies

Ceramic bunnies from the Islamic Art wing of the Louvre. Happy Festival of Fecundity (incorporating Massive Eating of Chocolate) to you all.

happy fellow found in Bamberg

I found this fellow in the gardens of the Alte Hofhaltung in Bamberg. Bamberg is in the Franconia region of Bavaria. It is a town of 70,000 people. It has 9 breweries. No wonder my friend is happy. And nude.

Hydrangea macrophylla

Hydranger stranger.

aviatrix

Colonel Colonel's A Grave Affair prompted me to find this is my extensive catalogue of cemetery photographs. I'm fascinated by aviatrixes (aviatreaux?) and by headstones, so this grave of Maryse Bastie in Cimetiere du Montparnasse is a double pleasure.

In this boneyard also lies Marguerite Duras, Serge Gainsbourg, Samuel Beckett and many others. There are flowers on the graves (naturally), but also notes, letters & small objects. On Duras', the day I was there in July last year, was a heart made of shells and stones. Some of the notes were written on metro tickets, others on scraps from pockets, others still elaborately prepared.

I noticed the phenomenon at the Parthenon also. My favourite there, on Emil Zola's tomb, was a note which read "I never finished Germinal, mais quand meme je l'aimait beaucoup. Merci partout." ("I never finished Germinal, but all the same I liked it a lot. Thanks everywhere.")

I wonder what prompts people to leave these notes.