Part-time Opera company

Ominous news from Opera Australia, the company which saved money last year by axing 7 (some say 8) positions from the permanent establishment of the Australian Opera and Ballet Orchestra – something I referred to at an anecdotal level here.

Things are now being taken to the next level.  Apparently about 20 singers are to be “rested” – ie, laid off, for 6 to 12 weeks next year.  These are singers who up till now have been employed on 12-month contracts. Obviously, in the past, that must have included the odd gap between conspicuous onstage commitments (some of which would necessarily be taken up with preparation and also by covering others’ roles).

According to Lyndon Terracini, fresh from his astounding ten-year reappointment and much skiting at the annual general meeting,  if these singers are not singing they cannot be paid and it’s not good for them to be singing in parts for which they are not suited.  Get it, it’s for their own good!

An OA spokesperson says it is nothing at all to do with the projected production next year of the musical “Kismet.”

OK, yes, I know it’s “The King and I,” but so what?

Group portrait

Last weekend, when at Gulgong, we took a drive to Coolah Tops.

We had to revisit the grass tree colony once we were there.

Leaving aside the now (just a bit sadly, I think) proscribed old common name for these plants, there is still something oddly anthropomorphic about them.  In part, it’s their sociable habit of growing together.  I’m not sure of the exact reason for this – moisture and soil nutrients might be the entire explanation, but it is quite striking.

Our visit was all too short.  It is still my ambition to spend a longer time at this tucked away and (I’d say) relatively unknown national park.

An hour every three years

On 2 April 2004, I was a barrister and holder of a local practising certificate.

I am required to undertake continuing legal education.

Clause 176 of the Legal Profession Regulation 2005 imposes a requirement that in each three year period ending 31 March 2007, 2010 and 2013 (und so weiter), the continuing education I undertake must:

“include a component relating to the management of the practice of law that deals predominantly with the following issues:
(a) the principles of equal employment opportunity,
(b) the law relating to discrimination and harassment,
(c) occupational health and safety law,
(d) employment law,
(e) the management of legal practice consistent with paragraphs (a)-(d).”

A “component” means at least one hour’s worth.

Well the last three years are up. It’s kind of a Rumpelstiltskin moment.

I can’t remember whether I undertook “regulation 176″ CLE/CPD (“Continuing Professional Development”) in 2010-11 or 2011-12. I can’t be bothered checking.

Just to be on the safe side, I have watched on my computer a streamed video of a talk given a couple of weeks ago which was designed to meet the criteria. I am able to satisfy the requirement by watching a video in this way so long as I have already otherwise completed 4 hours of “face to face” continuing legal education.

It’s difficult to see what purpose such compliance can really serve.

Don’t encourage them

ABC’s Limelight magazine is running a story in its upcoming April edition, promoted under the heading “Who is Australia’s best orchestra?”

It says:

A panel of 15 expert critics and professional musicians from around the country – many of whom wished to remain anonymous – was sent ABC recordings of live concerts by the six orchestras from throughout 2012. The judges were left blind as to which orchestra was which (each one received a label from A to F) in order to obviate any prejudice or hometown loyalty. All attempts were made to match repertoire between the orchestras, and to include a variety of styles, conductors and soloists in order to capture the range of each ensemble’s expressive power. Each judge was asked to review all the works performed by each orchestra and to provide an overall ranking of the orchestras from one to six.

The teaser then goes on to say that the SSO comes in first, the ASO second then the QSO. The MSO is (surprisingly) fourth then the WASO and, by “trailing by a large gap,” the TSO.

This whole exercise strikes me as pretty silly. As silly as drawing any serious conclusions from a review of a DVD of last year’s Handa Opera production of La Traviata. I mean, in an event where the atmosphere and the place are a crucial aspect of the experience, what would you expect of a DVD recording?

The main reason why I think it silly is because, unless you are contemplating moving cities for the sake of the orchestra, or, possibly, going for a job in one, the question is pretty irrelevant. In Australia you pretty well only have one [ex-]ABC orchestra to go to according to the city you are living in and, let’s face it, if you are wanting to buy a recording of “the best orchestra” you are not often likely to be choosing one of the [ex-]ABC orchestras.

Even if you lived in London with a choice of resident and regularly visiting orchestras, the question of “the best orchestra” is probably a pretty stupid one. Associated artists and repertoire would all play a part.

And how valid a guide, even with all these qualifications, are the recordings?

The first person to comment on Limelight’s puff piece, “arpasquill,” asked:

“Was patching work taken into consideration when listening to recordings?”

This drew a response from “RJStove”, who outs himself as one of the “panel of 15 expert critics and professional musicians from around the country.” You can possibly judge that for yourself. Stove has written a faintly Quixotic and decidedly tendentious book on Cesar Franck which tells us almost as much about RJStove as it does about its ostensible subject.

Stove says

“I can only say that I didn’t take patching work into account. To this day I don’t know which recordings had patches and which didn’t…Except on the few occasions when audience applause was included, we weren’t even sure whether a performance was done at a concert or in a studio. So the question of patches didn’t enter my own consciousness, anyway.”

Precisely.

There is a more indignant response from conductor and broadcaster Graham Abbott, including as follows:

The alleged strengths and weakness of the performances reviewed could as easily be attributed in many cases to the recording, the hall, how tired the orchestra was, and especially the conductor.

Abbott gallantly illustrates this with a comment which (see below) I can report after my trip to the newsagent is dealt out in the article to the MSO under his own direction, namely that it is “heavy handed in Mozart.”

With some justification Abbott complains:

most appalling of all was the press release sent out in anticipation of this tripe. “Australia’s best and worst symphony orchestras named in first ever blind-listening test.”

He accuses the magazine of a cheap stunt to sell copies by denigrating the orchestras in question.

I’d say the “cheap stunt” bit is a fair cop.

Obviously there are many variables. The choice of comparable repertoire probably deprives a smaller orchestra such as the TSO of the chance to show itself off to advantage. But, as I said, what is even the point of the comparison when few really have a meaningful choice between these orchestras?

The low ranking of the MSO seems odd, and is probably a bigger upset than the relegation of the TSO to the bottom of the class. (After all, they are the poorest and smallest of the ex-ABC orchestras.) I don’t like to give the comparison too much credit by responding to it but I wonder if the outcome for the MSO is a result in any way of their prolonged lack of a chief conductor. [Postscript after a detour to the newsagent, see below: nor did it help them to have Brahms' Tragic Overture conducted by Richard Gill counted as representative of their work.] The quality of recordings made in 2012 likely to have been adversely affected by their exile from the Hamer Hall for two years prior to its reopening in about August 2012.

Of course I’m curious to see how the Limelight panel have reached their conclusions, but I don’t intend encouraging them by buying the April edition. I shall read the article for free at the newsagent.

Orpheus revived

On Saturday, as foreshadowed, with D to OA’s production of Orpheus in the Underworld.

It was jolly fun if a bit unrefined.

Immediately before the show began there was an announcement that Adrian Keating would be leading the orchestra, rather than the billed Catalin Ungureanu. Perhaps he was a late substitute. It did sound that way in his big violin solo in Orpheus’s duet with Eurydice.

The satire of Pauline Hanson as Public Opinion is getting a bit long in the tooth despite her recent flash in the daily pan, but it is always a pleasure to see Suzanne Johnston.

The amplification, doubtless appreciated further back, was anything but “light” (as Clive Paget had characterised it in Limelight Magazine). At one point when the stage was crowded I couldn’t work out who was singing at all (turned out it was Cupid, somewhere near the back.)

The love police were still there but are now trench-coated adult detectives rather than the kepi-sporting lads on scooters, and the substitution took something of the sweetness away from this section. Funnily enough, posters at the Opera House and Opera Australia’s calendar still feature the original concept, with Cupid as a big baby and the boys as his offsiders.

Rachelle Durkin was great as Eurydice. She always seems a bit crazy and is one of those singers who can almost not avoid being comical (Warwick Fyfe is another). And she can sing.

Todd McKenney as Pluto features as the lead image on OA’s publicity. He’s incongruous in the show by reason of his popular singing style (which requires even more miking). He dances a lot and well to make up for it, but presumably OA have featured him because they expect him to sell tickets – people have seen him on the telly. It’s depressing, really.

I would have preferred David Hobson, who took the part in Adelaide last year and in Sydney in 2003.

Back to the question of “unrefined.” OA have a tradition of this – when it’s comic they turn the switch to ocker. We all know it’s funny. Generally it is at the expense of charm and often also of musical execution. Mock pastoral and mock pathos are two of the casualties: Aristeus’s song in Act I, for example, and John Styx’s in Act II. (Something similar happened to “Time was when love and I were well acquainted” in Patience a few years ago.) Why can’t Styx’s song be sung more like this? Or even here?

Sparkle and sweetness are hard to carry off. I thought we got more beer than champagne last night. No point telling me the bubbles are really the same.

Still, most people seem to have had a good time, and even I enjoyed it over all.

PS: ENO production with Public Opinion a la Margaret Thatcher here. John Styx’s number at 48:50 (he wants Eurydice to spank him – an invention of that production, I think); Cupid and love police at 50:40 leading to the very charming “kiss” waltz at 52:55.

PPS: selection of images from production put up by OA on Youtube. Presumably taken from the dress rehearsal, though ensemble 9-10 seconds in wasn’t much different when I heard it on Sat. New-look love police feature at 30 seconds in.

PPS: from Opera Australia’s blog, belatedly noticed:

“Besides reworking the libretto, with help from Thompson and conductor Andrew Greene, Biggins also trimmed the show into a shorter and lighter version of the 2003 production. The children’s chorus was one of the things that went. “Unlike in Bohème, where they’re an essential part of the plot, in Orpheus the children don’t  serve a particular purpose. So instead of having them appear as Cupid’s love police in the second act, we got four gentlemen from the chorus dressed up as identical Inspector Clouseau, which was funnier, sharper and briefer, and which made the point.”

Losing the chorus also took care of the problem of children not being allowed in the Green Room at the same time as half the cast. “The costumes are rather lewd and suggestive, which meant that in 2003 the children had be hidden in their dressing rooms with their chaperones,” Biggins says.”

The phantom clearway

Since I moved to Ashfield last year I have a new way to work. It joins up with part of what I used to call my scenic route. If you live in Sydney, you should be able to work out that the picture above is taken on the western approach to the ANZAC bridge – the one that features in the header to this blog.

Off on the left, at a lower level, is the remains of an older road. I can’t quite work out what road it is. It seems too high to be the road onto the old Glebe Island Bridge, the swing bridge which remains permanently open (despite cyclists pleas to have it reinstated). Is it an earlier approach to the ANZAC Bridge itself? This seems unlikely.

The route over ANZAC bridge is a main road in cycling terms compared to my old ride through Glebe. If I go at the busiest time I can find myself one of 5 or 6 bikes at the intersection of Balmain and Lilyfield Roads, and there are commonly 10-12 bikes waiting to negotiate the nightmare traffic lights just to the west of Pyrmont Bridge. The street-view picture at that link, incidentally, predates the bike path and understates the nightmare, which arises from the delay imposed on pedestrians and bicycles alike: the traffic lights act as though this is a four way intersection but in truth Pyrmont Bridge is the under-recognized (because it does not carry cars) fifth way. The temptation to cyclists to cross unlawfully makes it worth the police’s while to patrol about once every three months, when they do a roaring trade.

The standard of rider is also a bit fitter – probably because some of them are going a lot further. I am regularly overtaken, especially going uphill.

Even so, this route is nothing like as busy as Anzac Parade as it goes through Moore Park. I found stepping off a bus there in the early evening recently on my way to the Mardi Gras film festival at Fox Studios quite a terrifying experience. For once the tables were turned and I was the startled pedestrian.

Since then I’ve taken to ringing my bell for the benefit of pedestrians on shared paths quite a bit more, despite the indignant response this sometimes elicits.

Amazing technology

At this time of year, I am doing a BAS statement. OK, I am a day late.

My business affairs are pretty simple so I do it myself.

Most of the banking transactions are on a separate account maintained in connection with my practice. Regulations under the Legal Profession Act require that I have such an account in the event that I take a direct payment from a client in advance of rendering the client a bill. This rarely happens but it is necessary to be prepared.

Just occasionally I have work out what a cheque was for or who it was from, especially because sometimes one goes into the wrong account.

Today I discovered, when checking my bank statement on line, that I CAN click on a transaction and see onscreen a copy of either a cheque I have paid (less important) or (more interesting) a cheque I have paid in.

That is just amazing. And occasionally quite handy.

Christmas Nazis?

That was my first reaction when I spotted this on the way home from the station shortly after our move to Ashfield 4 weeks ago.  This was the best I could manage for a picture.

Indians have supplanted the Shanghainese as the dominant arrivistes in Ashfield.

So my more reasoned guess is that these were decorations for Diwali.

The sway of the mighty

On Thursday, Lloyd Rayney was acquitted of the charge of murder of his wife, Corryn.

Because it was a trial by judge alone (rather than with a jury), the judge gave reasons for his decision.

The case was circumstantial.  The main circumstances were the break-down of the Rayneys’ marriage and a place-card in Mr Rayney’s name from a dinner,  found not far from where his wife’s body was found buried in a shallow grave in Kings Park.

The stuff about the breakdown of the marriage makes dispiriting reading, and the deceased does not emerge prettily from it.  (There are also charges, yet to be determined, against Lloyd Rayney in relation to covert recordings he is alleged to have made of his wife’s telephone calls.)  The irony is that the more unpleasant the prosecution could show deceased to have been, the more motive Mr Rayney could be said to have murdered her.  It’s the reverse of what happens with self-defence or provocation defences where the act of killing is admitted and the defendant is the one who seeks to paint as black a picture of the deceased’s conduct as possible.

There was no shortage of evidence, particularly in emails from the deceased and accounts of conversations with friends and relatives.  There were statements she was going to take her husband to the cleaners, that she was going to “do him slowly.” There were threats and stated intentions to expose his gambling and his marital infidelity and to embarrass him at court (she was a registrar of the Supreme Court) by such things as getting a court attendant to deny him admission to the court unless he handed over financial information she wanted from him and to cruel his prospects of appointment to silk or any other professional advancement.

How bitter or not the marriage breakdown was should probably be put in perspective: at least one of the relevant family law practitioners expressed the view that the level of acrimony was nothing out of the ordinary.

One little aspect caught my eye.

A well-known picture of the couple in possibly happier times, reproduced above, shows them in a plane chartered by Hancock Prospecting Pty Limited, a company controlled by Gina Rinehart, who is recognisable in the background.  Apparently HPPL had become a client of Mr Rayney at some stage after he went into private practice.

Previously Mr Rayney had been counsel assisting the inquest into the death of Lang Hangcock.

Both of these connexions were referred to by Acting Justice Martin in his judgment.

At [63] (emphasis added and likewise again below):

In April 2007 the accused and the deceased travelled to Bali in a plane chartered by a client. They shared a villa and appeared to be happy.

At [71], dealing with the evidence one of Mr Rayney’s colleagues:

Ms Black spoke of the accused’s ‘calm and controlled’ demeanour and personality in a particularly stressful matter involving an inquest into the death of a prominent Western Australian person.

Why such extraordinary circumspection?

Self-Identity

In the past 2 and a bit months, D and I have been casting around for a new place to live after our landlord in Dulwich Hill gave us notice.  It is a wrench.  We have been here 10 years.

Dulwich Hill is a relatively obscure suburb in the “Inner West” of Sydney: many people from out of the district have to ask where it is and indeed I confess that before I moved here it was a bit of a mystery to me too.

If you’ve been in a long tenancy, all new lettings look horribly expensive.  We found Dulwich Hill beyond our means and looked further abroad.  We found affordable places in Arncliffe.  Arncliffe too is a bit obscure, though less so than Dulwich Hill because several prominent roads meet there.  It is in the unnamed orange section of the maps above between “The Shire” and the Inner West.  That’s a part of Sydney that doesn’t even merit a name or a map from its own perspective.

Finally, after protracted negotiations with one agent, it was looking almost certain that we would be moving to Arncliffe.  A deposit was paid; removalists were organised; a date was set to sign the lease and pick up the keys; the initial rent and bond were paid by EFT.

The new house was good inside but I wasn’t crazy about the location and the locality.  When a member of the Dulwich Hill gang with whom I go to concerts asked how the move was going, I told him that we would be hanging up our harps and weeping on the far side of Wolli Creek, but that we would never forget Dulwich Hill.

Then, the Friday before the Saturday the lease was to be signed, I received a copy of the residential tenancy agreement.  It had special conditions which were unwelcome.  The agent said they were standard – which means standard for that agent.  Things have definitely got worse for tenants since I last signed an agreement, and it’s not just a question of market conditions.

We “negotiated.”  That means that the agent made 1 change (the draft erroneously said “no pets”)  rejected 2 other changes I requested and offered a compromise on a fourth which was conditional on a shorter lease term.  As the length of the lease term was more important to us than the issue in question, that wasn’t really an attractive proposition.

In the meantime, as you have to, we cancelled the move for the time being and started looking again.

By Monday I had paid a deposit on a place in Ashfield.  We withdrew the application for the Arncliffe place.

It’s not as if the lease conditions were much more favourable. At least this time I was not taken by surprise.  The location is quieter; the house inside is daggier; the garden is nicer.  It is a bit more expensive.

So we shall be staying in the inner west after all, albeit in a suburb which I would once have thought as being right at its edge.  Real estate supplements now routinely include suburbs well west of Strathfield under this rubric.

When I was younger I used to laugh at my contemporaries who grew up and stayed in the North Shore.  Why would you want to do that?  But after living practically all of my adult life (apart from short stints interstate) in the inner west of Sydney, I find I am loth to leave.

Notes:

I first encountered the above maps courtesy of Jim Belshaw.   They come from the UNSW student newspaper, Tharunka.  It appears to be a kind of a meme, mined extensively (if you can mine a meme) by Yanko Tsvetkov.  A global version of something similar was used for the opening titles of the straight-to-ABC2 Dumb Drunk and Racist.