First Impressions of Amsterdam

I went to Amsterdam recently to attend a conference. The thought of traveling to a European city alone was daunting and exciting all at once. However, my initial fears of not speaking the local language were not realised. Signs everywhere were in English as well as Dutch and most people were bilingual. It was the traffic system in Amsterdam that presented the most difficulty in adjustment.

For most of my visit I was in danger of being run over by a tram or bike. Not only did they drive on the opposite side of the road to what we do in Australia, but their roads had parallel lanes for cars and bikes separated often by an extra curb. These double lanes in both directions had to be negotiated when attempting to cross safely from one footpath to another. Often I forgot the bike lane was there, intuitively expecting I’d arrived at a footpath only to find I was in immediate danger of being roller-coasted (the equivalent to being stampeded but with wheels). In American cities and Rome and Paris I adjusted quickly to the different travel direction learning to look the opposite way to what I am accustomed before crossing, but with the added bike lane and the volume of push bikes and motor bikes using it, my confusion lasted much longer. Even by the end of the week I wasn’t fully adjusted.

I would have liked to have had more free time to develop the confidence to commute by bike. A bike tour would have been a good place to begin; having someone to follow initially, and then branching out on my own to tour the city by bike and even ride to the conference venue daily.  Alas, attending the conference daily limited my time for such pleasures.

By the end of the week, however, I had mastered their public transport system, found some excellent restaurants in a variety of  restaurant districts, found a couple of shopping spots, been for a long walk around Vondell Park, a short walk into the red light district,  experienced a concert at the Concertgebouw, immersed myself in the evidence collected at the Anne Frank Huis Museum, contemplated Van Gogh’s life and work at the Van Gogh museum and attended a Dutch language and culture course put on by the conference organisers.

Most of the time I spent with my favorite colleague from Melbourne. Exploring the city together was a delight. She did not want to ride and that was another reason for not pursuing my desire to join the Dutch in their riding culture. However, on the day I walked through the park my colleague rested in our hotel. I walked alone. I decided to capture their riding culture in a photographic study. I will share some of the photos with you now. I was amazed that no one wore helmets, both on push bikes and especially on motor bikes. In Australia it is compulsory. The other difference is that the Dutch wear street gear on simple bikes and in Melbourne we tend to ride complex, geared bikes in lycra riding gear and cleated shoes. Also, our baby bike seats are protectively designed with extended backs and sides enfolding the toddler in racing-harness-style seat belts for their own safety. In Amsterdam, it seemed any box or seat would do, without seat belts!

Ang Lee to the rescue!

I’m having a bit of an Ang Lee marathon. It started when I hired ‘Lust Caution’ and loved it. The tragic story and scenes from the movie haunted me for days afterwards. Its R rated because of the sex scenes, but these are not gratuitous. Without them the movie wouldn’t have been as powerful and the twist in the story wouldn’t have made sense.

Following this I remembered the first Ang Lee film I’d ever seen and had the desire to see it again (more than fifteen years later). I remembered it as a comedy of errors. I hunted it down online and had it shipped to home. I loved it, but its now outdated in a funny way and that made it enjoyable for different reasons. I’ve now lent that DVD to a friend who’s teenaged son is suffering through confusion about his sexuality…

This week I’ve been a couple of times to the video shop for Kat. She is going through a phase of watching horror movies. She’s trying to find one that actually scares her. This is something I do not understand. I find no enjoyment in the horror genre and avoid them outright. However, on our last visit I found  ’Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’ in the World Movies section for weekly hire and picked  it up for myself.

I’ve been home nursing Kat this week and this includes sleeping outside her room on an camp mattress to deter her from raiding the kitchen during the night. After three nights of this I’m completely worn out. Needing a lift and a spot of relaxation, I have decided to watch ‘Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’ tonight. I am excited because I’ve heard its his best, and if its half as good as ‘Lust Caution’ it would still be amazing.

Two new Billie’s for Melbourne

Tonight I met Libby at Her Majesties Theatre to see the preview to Melbourne’s Billie Elliot. The show begins here in December. Libby was invited to the preview because she coordinates group bookings for the school where she teaches music. I used to work with her. She often invites me to join her when she takes her students to shows, but this was the first preview I’ve been to.

I admit, I was expecting to see the whole show tonight and was initially disappointed when I sat down in the Stalls after complimentary champagne to learn that this was not going to be the case. However, tonight I heard one of the producers and one of the key actors speak about the show, I was introduced to the four “Billie’s”, I watched them perform together and saw the DVD of the audition process. 

A big deal was made of the fact that two new “Billies” were joining the show for the Melbourne performances. Like many of us who are not aware of the logistics of staging shows of this scale that employ over fifty children, it tickled me to listen to the producer talk of their “Billies” in plural. It was an education for me and a delight to have ‘met’ all four of them.

Each of these Australian boys, when interviewed, spoke in familiar Aussie accents, yet in character produced a thick Irish twang. Their performance of the song at the moment when Billie describes how he feels to dance brought a tear to my eye.  These four boys danced sublimely, each of them obviously gymnasts as well as classically trained. 

I came away from the preview rather inspired on a number of levels. Firstly, the quality of dancing in the Billie’s performance was astonishing. It would be for this reason alone that I will see the show, and take as many family and friends as I can with me. 

Secondly, I came away with a feeling of pride for Australian theatre. Billie Elliot has been running in Sydney for a year. Australia is the second home of the musical Billie Elliot. It doesn’t open on Broadway until later in the year!

In April I was in New York, staying on Broadway. I was there for a conference, but saw Chicago the day I arrived. Aspects of the show were disappointing. For example the lawyer was poorly cast (played by a non-charismatic character who couldn’t tap), and the set and costuming were unexciting. 

A couple of weeks later in Melbourne, I saw Guys and Dolls with Libby and was impressed with it in comparison to Chicago on Broadway. At the time I remarked to Libby that I needn’t have gone to New York to see a great show. I’m feeling the same way tonight after previewing Billie Elliot: Its all right here at my finger tips in Melbourne!

The Big Screen

Do you remember when home videos became popular? Was it in the late eighties? Everyone said, “Oh that spells the end of cinema”.

Now everyone is creating home cinema experiences with purposefully made recliner chairs, blue ray DVDs (not sure what these are, but my kids are up to date with it), surround sound (not that surround sound is new – my boyfriend in the late eighties had it. He was so proud after he’d installed it. Is this a guy thing? Personally I don’t mind if the sound of an approaching train emanates from the telly. For my enjoyment it does not have to appear to be coming from behind me to the right), projectors mounted from the ceiling and large screens on the wall. We’ve got one of these in our new house too – the home cinema room. Our four-seater recliner (in red) is yet to be delivered.

Even so, the kids don’t want to wait until the new releases hit DVD. They’re off to the cinema as often as ever. During the school holidays Prince Caspian, Kung Fu Panda, and Get Smart drew them to the box office. For the children, I believe their motivation for going to the cinema is to be up with the conversations rather than the desire to get out into society. For me, its all about getting out. Sitting at home with surround sound and blue ray will never replace meeting a friend in the foyer, squeezing in a drink or dinner before hand, filing in after purchasing a choc top to watch a movie on the big screen and chatting about it later (not to mention the people-watching opportunities), and you never know who you might bump into when you’re out.

The Debut

My eldest wants to be an actress. She joined a drama group this year and recently performed on stage for the first time. All of the other kids in the group had been acting together for years. I wondered how Kat would shape up compared to them. 

The night I drove her to the theatre prior to her performance she was buzzing.  She wasn’t nervous and she didn’t rehearse her lines in the car. She was chatty and excited. I don’t think she realised it, but she spoke to me in an English accent.  I didn’t comment on this to her at the time. I didn’t want to interrupt her funk (or whatever it is actors need to do prior to these things: move outside of themselves or get into a flow).

I had tickets for the whole family for the following night’s performance. At the theatre entrance, I dropped her off and wished her luck. When I returned a couple of hours later to pick her up, the foyer was deserted. At the box office I made enquiries about the finish time. There was still forty minutes to go. 

“My daughter is in there”, I told the box-office girl, “I’d rather catch the last forty minutes than sit waiting in the foyer”.

“I can’t sell you a half ticket”, she said strictly, “and I can’t let you in for free”. She had a well-that’s-that look on her face and was surprised when I insisted on going in.

“Then I’ll purchase a full ticket. I’m not going to sit here while she’s in there”.

She hesitated but eventually sold me the ticket. “I feel guilty selling it to you for only forty minutes”, she confessed.

I rolled my eyes (inwardly wishing she would just hurry), paid for the ticket and moved quickly past ushers and black curtains into an intimate theatre space. Momentarily in the dark I felt disorientated. Scanning the stage, I ascertained that Kat was not on it, settled back into my seat and waited. At every entry of a new performer, my heart rose in my chest. Would this be her? I’ve had this feeling before, many times. Scanning groups of school children at school pick-up time, the sight of your own child’s face is like a home coming. Intimate familiarity registers and you can see it on their face too, as your eyes meet. I was ready for the charge of instant familiarity. But I knew she wouldn’t be able to see me. She didn’t even know I was in the audience. 

A change of act, and suddenly her familiar face was before me. It was my Kat, but they had dressed her in a long auburn wig, raunchy seventies gear and platform shoes. She looked adult and stunningly beautiful. I starred in disbelief. Waiting for her to speak her lines I almost held my breath. She delivered her lines in an English accent with confidence and conviction. Her character was convincing as a gossiping trouble maker (which is funny, because Kat is not that type in real life. She is trustworthy and thoughtful). 

I fossicked in my bag and pulled out my camera. My thoughts at the time were to capture Kat in the wig to show her sisters. I locked the camera onto no-flash. Furtively I captured the following two shots:

After the show I found a seat in the foyer. From this vantage point I watched as other patrons merged and converged and actors were reunited with boyfriends, girlfriends and families. Finally Kat emerged flanked by a group of other actors. I wasn’t the only one who noticed them. A large group of kids about the same age as Kat and the others converged on them. The talk was excited. There was lots of hugging. I approached the group in time to hear Kat’s friends complimenting her on her performance, how surprisingly well she walked in high heels, and the look of her wig. Kat’s smile was enormous as she joked about stealing the wig and worrying whether she would roll her ankle in the shoes. 

She confessed to me in the car on the way home that she loved wearing the wig.

“Seriously”, she laughed, “I want that wig. It was like I was fulfilling a little-girl fantasy or something”, was the way she expressed it.

“Oh, I know why”, I said, “Its like Areal the Little Mermaid. Do you remember dressing up like her when you were four?”.

“No! But that explains it lol”. (Yes, she really did say lol. Kat and her friends actually talk chat-speak sometimes. lol).

“You really did look beautiful in it”.

“Thanks. Everyone was coming up to me back stage saying Kat, grow your hair that long, dye it that colour, you look hot! or Kat, marry me in that wig! It was cool”. 

We laughed.

She was on a high. I thought she was chatty on the way there, but it was nothing compared to her elation on the way home!

Change was in the air

I was feeling different. I had survived the turmoil that was my mid life crisis. I had learnt (and changed), and decided it was time for a New Chapter.

I have opened Comfort Food like a new piece of slate upon which to start afresh. I can’t predetermine the content of this new blog, only that the things I choose to write about here will reflect the differences I feel. Some of the epossums themes will be left behind and new ones will begin.