Watching History

Have you ever been to a re-enactment of a battle? I love history but I am strongly anti-military and ant-war and violence and any kind of glorification of war. Still…I thought it would be interesting to go to see a battle being re-enacted, with Napoleon involved. I live in France and had seen a poster for this event.

The event took place in a park. It was surreal arriving and seeing people dressed in Napoleonic costumes. There was also fires burning, giving the odour of war. In the background were some tall modern buildings, which destroyed the illusion of it all. There were also people sitting down in costumes with cars providing the background. I have to say the costumes looked authentic and good, with attention to detail. Sometimes you get see people who don’t go the whole hog, with touches of modern clothes, but the people involved with this historical event, didn’t cut corners.

Walking around the park was going to a military camp, before the storm of the battle is about to begin. I was reminded of Becky Sharp and Vanity Fair, women were invited to join their officer husbands and were entertained in the manner they were accustomed to.

So to the battle…soldiers (men and women dressed as men) some on horses did their thing, with a commentator describing what was going on. The problem was the excessive noise. Ok so the cannon wasn’t firing live rounds, but the noise it made, could easily give somebody shell shock. Anyone with a nervous disposition probably freaked out. You had to feel sorry for the horses and sorry for dogs, who some people brought along. I was willing it to end, and begrudging the fact we hadn’t thought of headphones to block out the noise of the canon and sound of riffles. Next historical event will have to be Normans, or Vikings, anything apart from ear splitting modern warfare.

The cirque du soleil comes to Paris

How often can you say that you have seen a show performed by

performers who are at the top of their craft?

Last February I was taking my usual jogging route up to my local train station

when I noticed a poster for the Cirque du Soleil. My thirst thoughts

were that it was an old poster for a show that had happened already.

On further investigation it turned out it was for later in the year, in November

to be precise. It was a long wait, but one worth waiting for.

The journey to where it was being held was long, added to which there was a suspected

bomb in one of the stations, which meant being crushed on the metro and the fear we might

not make it to the venue. As we crossed the Seine we saw the large circus top from the train.

I knew the circus had a formidable reputation and my expectations were high.

I have been to excruciating circuses where you groan and watch things go wrong, jugglers messing up, cringe-worthy unfunny clowns, but this show was in a league of its own, full of imagination, constant energy, wit, quirkiness, bravery, enthralling, it had the lot.

For people who love to be taken back in time, with a steampunk vibe and the bizarreness of curiosity shows, this was a pleasure.

The way they moved around the performance area in their flamboyant costumes was superb.

For a circus to get you on the edge of your seat there needs to be some breathtaking stunts, and a high level of risk and there was certainly this.

Perhaps the part I liked the most was when they were jumping up and down ona large springy net, wearing fishing-man’s outfits. There was the whole gamut of circus skills, contortionists, acrobats, jugglers and more besides. By the end of the show I had the realisation I was lucky to be party to something special.

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A magical event, Jozef van Wissem plays in Moret Moret-sur-Loing.

An unlikely person in in an unlikely setting creating a real special occasion.

I am lucky enough to live a town in France Moret-sur-Loing where there are memorable cultural events.

On a damp cold Friday night the local church filled up with people who were there

to listen to the music of Josef Van Wissem, while watching a film of Fritz Lang.

Before the event started I had no idea what to expect.

Josef Van Wissem has a notable CV, In 2013 Van Wissem won the Cannes Soundtrack Award for the score of Only Lovers Left Alive at the The Cannes film festival, He released The Joy That Never Ends, an album with Jim Jarmusch on an American record label in 2011. He has even written score for the video game The Sims medieval. You shouldn’t be fooled by the word medieval, because his music is contemporary, despite playing an instrument associated with the middle ages.

He arrived in the theatre, like a thief in the night, no fanfare or applause. The film started playing and he began his magical craft, playing a loot, accompanying the strange film by Fritz Lang. I was absorbed by the actors who played in the dark film, about a recently wed woman whose husband is taken away by a mysterious man, “death”. Where did Fritz Lang find these actors, who looked like they had been transported from a Breughel painting. The film was disturbing but at the same time had a charming “home-made quality about it,” as well as looking dated in parts, compared to the highly sophisticated films we watch in the present day.

Josef Van Wissem, was dressed in black with a cross medallion around his neck, with his long hair reminding me of Iggy Pop when he grew his hair long. He was fully immersed in playing his instrument.

The music soothed, it mesmerised, it was sometimes as dark as the film.

He wasn’t like a rock star looking for affirmation, but he was fascinating to watch.

Like his entry he got off the stage and made his way to the back of the church, without milking the applause he was due, and sold some of his CDs and vinyl’s to those who had been impressed by his work.

How was your Halloween?

How was Halloween for you.

It seems to gain in importance, every year, here in France.

Halloween where we live began on Sunday, when a town

you most likely have never heard of, called Thomery,

put on a parade and a fire show and a Halloween area.

On the actual day of Halloween, it started early, long before

it started to get dark. Our door bell rang and in consequence

or dog went crazy and the distribution of sweets began in earnest.

I suppose parents with young children don’t want their children

encountering frightening disguised types walking around in the dark.

Our group of Haloweeners began walking about around six.

Some shops and businesses were happy to invite them in and to dish out sweets.

When our march around the town was finished, there were still groups of

costumed kids and teenagers ringing on the door, sending our dog mad.

It was a relief when it all died down (no pun intended).

However around eleven at night some rogue Halloweeners rang on our door bell, just as I was about to fall asleep. Our dog raced downstairs and began barking. I was less than happy about this intrusion. Next year we will have to be more cautious about decorating our house.

A cautionary tale about Halloween. A long time ago, I had a friend, who was part of a famous band. He was the trumpet player. One Halloween he was walking about in London, on Halloween, with a witches hat. Somebody tapped him on the shoulder, he turned round only to be punch in the face. This act of madness, with no motive, no obvious reason, other than that he was dressed for Halloween, meant he was never quite the same trumpet player. His teeth had been smashed.

Beware…there can be real nutters about on Halloween.

100 second Poetry lit up in Paris

As quirky events go, an event I participated in a few weeks ago in Paris, organized by Paris Lit Up

was certainly right up there in terms of full blown quirkiness. It was a part of the global 100 Thousand Poets for Change movement.

A gathering of poets had to complete a poem in a hundred seconds, if not they would be

ignominiously cut off with the sound of a musical instrument and jeers (well not quite this excessive) from the audience.

Poets would passionately read from their phones or books or scraps of paper. There were some interesting poems, on a range of subjects, including love that had sour, a bitter revenge poem.

The venue had been double booked and and the poets who had bravely turned up to participate, were joined by some Goths, who were putting up an exhibition and milling about in their black attire. There was a slight clash of culture, but the two groups managed to tolerate each other. A rota of poets were called, some spoke in French and there were other languages besides, standing on a window sill in front of an animated audience.

When this poetic onslaught needed a break, the participants could venture outside, to the noise of a busy Parisian street, with motorbikes tearing at breakneck speeds and eat carrot cake, provided by the organizers, who had previously engaged in a flurry of baking.

We left with a feeling of having enjoyed listening to other people’s work as well as being happy to be given the chance to share our poems.

A HOLIDAY FROM HELL

The location was great, easy access to both Switzerland and Germany. The setting was nice, surrounded by a forest. The swimming pool was great. But all of this came with a price, the Thursday night “entertainment”. Welcome to Camping du Lac de la Seigneurie.

The start wasn’t good, the people running the camp also didn’t fix a window we asked them to mend, despite promising they would.

On the Sunday morning newcomers were invited to attend a welcoming drink. It seemed to be a bombardment of rules campers were supposed to follow, along with a few threats if rules were not followed. In no other campsite have we had to adhere to so many rules; There was also a notable absence of campers from other countries (Germany, Holland and the UK). We had noticed the camp wasn’t just populated by French people.

Being close to two major boarders it obvious they would attract different nationalities. The instructions were delivered in French. My wife had had suspicions about the camp and had noticed a “singer” was due to perform on Thursday. The camp management confirmed this and said they had received a complaint in the past, but it was only “one night” and it was the “holidays” We should have acted on what we had been told at this “meeting” and spent the evening far away from the camp.

Having done a lot of travelling in our car we were tired and would have loved to relax. The music started at seven and was due to finish at midnight. Unless you are a fan of chanson Francaise not sung very well, with a backing track sounding like something from the eighties, with tacky synthesisers, this was going to prove a long hard night. What was most notable was the imposing volume. We have been to other campsites, which provided entertainment, but it was subtle and it didn’t bother us. But with this campsite, we had no choice, shut all the windows, despite the heat and the noise just blared through.

We decided to go for a walk, to get away from it, but this did not help. When the singer took a break, we decided to find out if he was going to continue much longer.

The bar staff looked a bit bemused, when we asked. I went on to ask the man who ran the campsite. I explained there was children wanting to sleep and that we had paid a lot of money for this campsite. “It’s on the website” he said with a smug look on his face, dismissing my concerns. In fact this wasn’t strictly true, I looked at the English version, there was no explicit “chanson Francaise, karaoke singer until midnight”.

My son would normally jump at the idea of staying up late, but even for him the music was dragging him down, it certainly wasn’t uplifting holiday music.

It is true there is a certain demographic of a certain age group (perhaps elderly and nostalgic) who might appreciate a night like this.

We walked round the campsite several times to see what percentage of the campers were at the bar listening to the singer, against those who were in their mobile homes or chalets, not attracted by the music. On one walk we discovered one of the management dancing with friends. It seemed the night was more for her than for the majority of those staying at the campsite and if they didn’t like it, it was their problem and they had to put up with the music. Was it entertainment for the campers or an annoyance they had to put up with until the management chose to shut it down.

It was impossible to read and the music drowned out the television. It was far from the “peaceful haven” which was mentioned in one of the comments.

When the woman responsible for checking out campers asked us if we had enjoyed our time we felt obliged to mention the “Thursday night”. She tried to downplay it and said it’s “the holidays” yes but there are some holidays you look back with pleasure and holidays from hell. She couldn’t accept it was karaoke (despite no musical instruments) played at an absurd necessary volume or that children wouldn’t be able to sleep or campers relax. She made us seem the bad guys, the only ones to complain, which is hard to believe, what about the people (Dutch or German, or British) who left with same feelings, but decided to keep them to themselves.

We left on bad terms, feeling exhausted, angry and frustrated. Friday had proved tricky, my son exhausted and not in his best form. I suppose we learned a lesson about choosing a campsite.

L’emplacement était super, accès facile à la Suisse et à l’Allemagne. Le cadre était agréable, entouré d’une forêt. La piscine était super. Mais tout cela a eu un prix, le « divertissement » du jeudi soir. Le début n’a pas été bon, les gens qui dirigeaient le camp n’ont pas non plus réparé une fenêtre que nous leur avons demandé de réparer, malgré la promesse qu’ils le feraient.

Le dimanche matin, les nouveaux arrivants étaient invités à assister à un verre de bienvenue. Cela semblait être un bombardement de règles que les campeurs étaient censés suivre, ainsi que quelques menaces si les règles n’étaient pas suivies. Dans aucun autre camping, nous n’avons eu à respecter autant de règles; Il y avait aussi une absence notable de campeurs d’autres pays (Allemagne, Hollande et Royaume-Uni). Nous avions remarqué que le camp n’était pas seulement peuplé de Français.

Étant proches de deux grands pensionnaires, il est évident qu’ils attireraient des nationalités différentes. Les instructions ont été données en français. Ma femme avait des soupçons sur le camp et avait remarqué qu’un « chanteur » devait se produire jeudi. La direction du camp l’a confirmé et a déclaré qu’elle avait reçu une plainte dans le passé, mais ce n’était qu’une « nuit » et c’était les « vacances » Nous aurions dû agir sur ce qu’on nous avait dit lors de cette « réunion » et passer la soirée loin du camp.

Après avoir beaucoup voyagé dans notre voiture, nous étions fatigués et aurions aimé nous détendre. La musique a commencé à sept heures et devait se terminer à minuit. À moins que vous ne soyez un fan de la chanson française pas très bien chantée, avec une piste d’accompagnement sonnant comme quelque chose des années quatre-vingt, avec des synthétiseurs collants, cela allait s’avérer une longue nuit difficile. Ce qui était le plus remarquable, c’était le volume imposant. Nous sommes allés dans d’autres campings, qui offraient des divertissements, mais c’était subtil et cela ne nous dérangeait pas. Mais avec ce camping, nous n’avions pas le choix, fermer toutes les fenêtres, malgré la chaleur et le bruit qui venait de retentir.

Nous avons décidé d’aller nous promener, de nous en éloigner, mais cela n’a pas aidé. Lorsque le chanteur a fait une pause, nous avons décidé de savoir s’il allait continuer encore longtemps.

Le personnel du bar avait l’air un peu perplexe, quand nous avons demandé. J’ai ensuite demandé à l’homme qui tenait le camping. J’ai expliqué qu’il y avait des enfants qui voulaient dormir et que nous avions payé beaucoup d’argent pour ce camping. « C’est sur le site Web », a-t-il dit avec un regard suffisant sur son visage, rejetant mes préoccupations. En fait ce n’était pas strictement vrai, j’ai regardé la version anglaise, il n’y avait pas explicite de « chanson française, chanteuse de karaoké jusqu’à minuit ».

Mon fils sautait normalement à l’idée de rester éveillé tard, mais même pour lui, la musique le tirait vers le bas, ce n’était certainement pas une musique de vacances édifiante.

Il est vrai qu’il y a un certain groupe démographique d’un certain groupe d’âge (peut-être âgé et nostalgique) qui pourrait apprécier une nuit comme celle-ci.

Nous avons fait plusieurs fois le tour du camping pour voir quel pourcentage de campeurs étaient au bar en écoutant le chanteur, contre ceux qui étaient dans leurs mobil-homes ou chalets, pas attirés par la musique. Lors d’une promenade, nous avons découvert l’un des gestionnaires dansant avec des amis. Il semblait que la nuit était plus pour elle que pour la majorité de ceux qui séjournaient au camping et s’ils ne l’aimaient pas, c’était leur problème et ils devaient supporter la musique.

Était-ce un divertissement pour les campeurs ou un ennui qu’ils ont dû supporter jusqu’à ce que la direction choisisse de le fermer.

Il était impossible de lire et la musique noyait la télévision. C’était loin du « havre de paix » mentionné dans l’un des commentaires.

Lorsque la femme responsable de la vérification des campeurs nous a demandé si nous avions apprécié notre temps, nous nous sommes sentis obligés de mentionner le « jeudi soir ». Elle a essayé de minimiser et a dit que c’était « les vacances » oui, mais il y a des vacances que vous regardez en arrière avec plaisir et des vacances de l’enfer. Elle ne pouvait pas accepter que ce soit du karaoké (malgré l’absence d’instruments de musique) joué à un volume absurde nécessaire ou que les enfants ne puissent pas dormir ou que les campeurs ne puissent pas se détendre.

Elle nous a fait passer pour les méchants, les seuls à se plaindre, ce qui est difficile à croire, qu’en est-il des gens (hollandais ou allemands, ou britanniques) qui sont partis avec les mêmes sentiments, mais ont décidé de les garder pour eux.

Nous sommes partis en mauvais termes, épuisés, en colère et frustrés. Vendredi s’était avéré difficile, mon fils épuisé et pas dans sa meilleure forme. Je suppose que nous avons appris une leçon sur le choix d’un camping.

A charming festival

In small confined patch of land, close to the Seine an unusual festival, called Au Bon Coin Festival is taking place in Thomery. There is a strong theme, with people walking about in Greek toga-like costumes (tebennos) looking like extras from a Percy Jackson film. The weather is generally kind. There are two main stages for this festival, one is dedicated to bands, while the other is dedicated to mad-cap comedians and circus acts. The festival lasts three days.

On the Wednesday there had been a free event, a prelude, a wacky theatre piece, which dissolved into chaos. It was based on a start-up events company, doing a demonstration. The three actors did a fine job in making the audience laugh and cringe as everything inevitably went wrong, one disaster followed another. This slap-stick show was aided by some special effects and props.

The festival seemed to divided in different parts, music, street theatre and circus, with stalls dotted about to sell or promote different things. Most of the entertainment had a left field edge about it. Edgy bizarre comedy, with unexpected twists, bands with unique styles and on the Sunday night a “circus “ act that left me wondering if the performer was going to end up in the emergency section of a hospital, with some of risks the was taking, as well inviting participants to join his mad act.

Before this daredevil man entered our universe, the Sunday acts, seemed to be zen, Indian and ethnic instruments and spiritual chants spreading around and soothing spirits.

EN français

Dans un petit lopin de terre confiné, près de la Seine, un festival inhabituel, appelé Au Bon Coin Festival a lieu à Thomery. Il y a un thème fort, avec des gens qui se promènent dans des costumes grecs de toge (tebennos) ressemblant à des figurants d’un film de Percy Jackson. Le temps est généralement clément. Il y a deux scènes principales pour ce festival, l’une est dédiée aux groupes, tandis que l’autre est dédiée aux comédiens fous et aux numéros de cirque. Le festival dure trois jours.

Le mercredi, il y avait eu un événement gratuit, un prélude, une pièce de théâtre farfelue, qui s’est dissoute dans le chaos. Elle était basée sur une start-up événementielle, faisant une démonstration. Les trois acteurs ont fait un excellent travail en faisant rire et grincer des dents le public alors que tout allait inévitablement mal, les catastrophes se succédant. Ce spectacle de slap-stick a été aidé par des effets spéciaux et des accessoires.

Le festival semblait divisé en différentes parties, musique, théâtre de rue et cirque, avec des stands disséminés pour vendre ou promouvoir différentes choses. La plupart des divertissements étaient atypique. Une comédie bizarre avant-gardiste, avec des rebondissements inattendus, des groupes aux styles uniques et le dimanche soir un numéro de « cirque » qui m’a fait me demander si l’artiste allait se retrouver dans la section des urgences d’un hôpital, à cause de certains des risques qu’il prenait, ainsi que d’inviter les participants à se joindre à son numéro fou.

Avant que cet homme casse-cou n’entre dans notre univers, les actes du dimanche semblaient être des instruments zen, indiens et ethniques et des chants spirituels se répandant et apaisant les esprits.

Fete de la musique…in Moret sur Loing…

Every 21st of June signifies something important, in France, the Fete de la musique. I have played a few events in the past. Every conceivable space become a possible music venue. I remember Paris being inundated with bands, playing on every street corner. It is like the one night of the year, they can shine. Instead of being cast in the shadows of their basements, garages, or bedsits musicians can play in the open air to crowd, who look on in wonder. There is of course the weather, that might interfere; Then there is the sound. Even the best bands in the world can fall foul to sound issues, feedback, distortion or some unwanted buzz or hum.

Passing the town hall in Moret sur Loing, not far from Fontainebleau I noticed a poster looking for musicians to play on the night of the fete de la musique. This got my my mind going, and I decided to dig up an old project I had more than ten years ago, when I was living in Paris. It was under the banner of Ashram Oberoi and it was a fusion of ethnic music done in various dance styles. I decided to contact the organizer and went through old tracks I’d done years ago. It is nice to unearth old music. I also started on new material in the Ashram Oberoi style. There was practices in rehearsal studios with my wife Stephanie. We were given a slot at 11pm at night, usually when we are trooping upstairs to bed. When you do events they always seem a long way in the future but then time moves quickly and before you know it, you are due to perform.

The bands in Moret seemed mostly cover bands, doing recognisable hits from the eighties, like Blondie’s Heart of Glass. There were some big technical problems, new equipment, a mixing desk, being tried out for the first time. The rain threatened to cause havoc. The band before us produced very dark music, again remnants from the eighties, with a big serving of angst.

When it came to Ashram Oberoi 2023 taking the stage, the crowd had thinned out. Children had to go to bed, there was school the following day. The town was at the point of winding down. The last group I the “headliners” but with fete de la musique, you might end up the deadliners. It was ok however. There were some stragglers who danced. It’s true the sound people were packing things up while we played. However Ashram Oberoi were relaunched, blasting out some new tracks.