Category Archives: Emmjay

Unaustralian Australians at the Museum of Sydney

15 Friday Jul 2011

Posted by in Cricics, Critics, Everyone's a Critic, Emmjay

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FM, FM’s Mum and I went to the Museum of Sydney today to check out Louise Hawson’s photo exhibition –  52 suburbs of Sydney.   It’s highly recommended.  You should go if you can.

I was amazed to learn that there are currently 638 suburbs in Sydney.  Louise visited a fairly wide-ranging selection – one each week for a year.  She said that she took photographs for three days, spent another two working on them and then grouping them into related pairs.   Six days a week for a whole year.  And of course, she’s just scraped the surface.  She asks the rhetorical question “Just where is the suburb called ‘Canoelands’ and what might the good people of that suburb do ?”  Damned good question.

It brought home to me how amazingly culturally diverse our city  of many tribes has become – from the Anglo white bread village of my youth to quietly (with the exception of the occasional Cronulla race riot) morph into something unrecognisable as a suburb of  the middle of last century .  Dramatic change – in a good way.

Thinking that a city of four and a half million people that grows (apparently) at the rate of 1,000 people per week might in any way be comprehensible at a glance is clearly a big mistake on my part.  Louise’s exhibition is a wonderful study of colour, contrast, character and texture and her use of diptychs comparing and contrasting time and place and cultural reference is brilliant.

So – it’s a fascinating study, which BTW leads into two other really important small exhibitions.  First was a history of WWI German internment camps in NSW – Berrima Gaol, Holdsworthy and Trial Bay camps.

Holdsworth Internment Camp about 1915 (Government documents of the time refer to it as a "concentration" camp)

This is an extraordinary story about how about 7,000 people of German origin – even Australian citizens were locked up – some for six months after the WWI armistice.  Many were deported back to a devastated Germany.  These clearly dangerous and criminal krauts included none other than Herr Resche (whose Australian born sons were running his breweries while he was interred, and Australia’s only specialist orthopaedic surgeon of the day.  There was a class system where the wealthier German Australians got a better gig in a northern beach-side encampment.  And in addition the camps were run on a law of the jungle system where the “Black HandGang” at Holdsworthy terrorised other inmates and extorted and victimised them for gain – until remaining members of the crew of the Emden were interred with them, formed the “White Hand Gang”, and beat the crap out of the “Black Hand Gang”.  These beatings included throwing victims (deserving and otherwise, apparently) amongst the barbed wire while the guards turned a blind eye.

It makes it easier to understand the obscene way that Australians of many different ethnic backgrounds are so easily able to turn a blind eye to the plight of refugees – we’ve had form.

Then we went into an adjacent exhibition on housing in Australia.  There he was – the beaming visage of famous Viennese refugee architect, Harry Seidler –surrounded by images of his wonderful creations – Rose Seidler House (1950).

BTW Rose Seidler House is the venue for  the annual 1950’s fair at Wahroonga on August 16.  Don’t miss it hep cats and cool kitties.

 

Seidler’s  MLC Centre remains one of the CBD’s iconic buildings.

Construction started in 1960 (completely obliterating the delightfully bohemian Rowe Street) and was completed in 1967.  MLC Centre was for a very long time the tallest building in Australia at sixty something stories.  It was my workplace for five years in the middle 1980s.  The view from level 41 was spectacular.  The lifts were something less than spectacular and offered a service reminiscent of Sydney’s public transport systems.

And they also had pictures of the arsehole of Sydney Harbour landscape – Seidler’s Blues Point Tower.  We used to live across the harbour in Birchgrove and had to look at this eyesore every day.  I used to fantasise about starting a fund to buy all the units in there and pull the bastard building down – it is so ugly.  I gather that the alternative strategy is to save up, buy one of the tightly-held / rarely-sold units and look outwards.

But then the exhibition’s images looped back to another form of Australian ugliness – and perhaps the definition in my view of a total lack of charity and uncaring mongrel behaviour.

This image – reproduced without all the palaver that the State Library insists is necessary to have permission to republish, is a picture of William Roberts and his family – evicted from their home in Redfern in 1934.  William Roberts was an original Anzac.  And this is how he was treated.

My Mom used to tell me stories about the depression.  Her Intermediate certificate is dated 1939.  She got an A in History.  She said that neighbours used to help evicted families by waiting until the bailiffs had left and then break into the house again to let the evicted people back in.  If a landlord was such a bastard as to want to try it again, he would risk having the place burnt down – with a not-surprising lack of witnesses.  Not helpful for William, but not a bad way to discourage a lack of landlordly compassion.  My Dad used to tell me about how a kid with a pair of shoes to wear to school was the mark of a wealthy family.  And he also told me how the poorer kids used to beg apple cores from the richer kids because they were so hungry.

So while it is fashionable to wax on lyrical and wallow in the “Tradition of ANZAC”, it should not be forgotten about how Australia has a well-developed cultural capacity to act like total bastards towards those less fortunate in our midst.  Can’t accuse us of playing favourites, though.  We mistreated both ANZACS and Australian citizens of German descent.  We seem to have at least a hundred years’ practice at being bastards.  Probably twice that, really.

This visit to the Museum of Sydney (that likes to call itself the MOS for short) is a very worthwhile experience – this time, especially so.  It shows us at our best, culturally diverse, colourful, tolerant and inclusive, and also reminds us of how bad we can truly be if we try really hard.

That’s ENOUGH ! Take Your Hat and Hit the Road

30 Thursday Jun 2011

Posted by in Emmjay, Politics in the Pig's Arms

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It’s been a long time coming, but yesterday I think our politicians hit the bottom of the barrel – but they somehow seem always to be able to head further south.

The ABC reported an outraged Peter Reith and ran a clip of him being interviewed wherein he said that he was encouraged to run for the leadership of the Liberal party by none other than Tony Abbott – only to have Abbot abandon him and lose the contest by one vote.  The TV footage of Tony smarmingly showing his voting paper to whatever his name is who was the incumbent (recumbent) showed naked skullduggery as far as I can see.  Reith was ropable and embarrassed to the max.  Ouch !  Poor diddums.

So to get square, Pete threatened to talk up Workchoices 2 – guaranteed to lose Tony the unlosable election coming.  Nice.  Party solidarity.

The sad thing is that there was no surprise here.  I for one have come to expect no less than lying, cheating and whatever-it-takes to gain and hold power behaviour from Tony and his team. I described the lower primate as “a shit sandwich” – and got away with it in the olden days of Unleashed.  The other half of the quip was that it didn’t matter how Tony changed the bread – the exterior appearance –  the contents always stayed the same.

Worse than that, it’s the state of play for Labor as well.  Kevin had his little snit with the proposed anniversary of “when I was knifed – a sitting PM assassinated” party, put on hold on advice from large men in dark glasses.

I have seen some serious political shit go down in my 40 years as a NSW voter.  For a while I put my trade union son political beliefs into gear, joined the ALP, went to branch meetings (despite the risk of actual physical harm), voted on resolutions that went no effing where, handed out how to vote cards at election times and did my share of scrutineering.  I had the dubious pleasure of seeing their woman (Dawn Fraser) do our man (Peter Crawford) like a dinner.  It was a salutary lesson.  Peter was a one parliament parliamentarian.  So, it turns out was Dawn.  She was and is a much loved local identity and a trusted NRMA board member.  Both took their defeats on the chin and retired gracefully.  Not a  sore loser in sight.

But those were the days when people who ran for office actually believed in something other than their own self-interest and the headlong rush to grab power at any cost.

Stephanie Dowrick wrote in her 2004 Book ” Free Thinking” a few hundred words on public and private lying – and the corrosive effect of both.  She talked about how it has become the norm and that bare-faced lying or as we have come to know it “offering non-core promises” hardly raises an eyebrow.  Children Overboard, Reith’s mobile phone, No GST and the latest “No carbon tax” fiasco and reversal after reversal of policy as a matter of expediency if the polls even threatened to head south  are all de rigeur today.

But not for me.  I have had it with the big parties.  I just don’t know about the Greens or the independents.  I was imagining a day when parties become banned and that all elected representatives have to be independent.  Did I hear a wail of “that way NOTHING would ever get through the parliament” ?  Are you reaching for your favourite Steve Fielding non-sequitur or some pure and simple Bob Katter madness ?  OK, you win.

Maybe a party-free every vote-is-a-conscience vote still is a better approach than the useless abuse and character assassinations that we see so often filling up our governments’ sitting time.  It’s a disgrace.  I’ve had enough.  Time for Ten Gallon Bob and the rest to do us all a favour, take their hats and head off into the sunset.

Pig Psalm 17: Your balm is oinkment to mine eye

23 Thursday Jun 2011

Posted by in Emmjay, Pig Psalms

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Hear us, Oh Merv.

When Hedgie comes into your garden,

Smote him not because he meaneths no harm.

Take him unto your bosom and give to him the

Bailey’s of human kindness.

 

On ice.

For unto Hedgie a great burden has been visited.

He is a compulsive trimmer of the bush,

And he knoweth not the restraint.

 

After all, our Merv,

The difference between a seriously rogered hedge and a decorative border

Is about two weeks.

 

So long as Glenda and the girls at the Pig’s Legs Waxing and Beauty Salon

Receiveth not any crazy ideas of a similar ilk,

Fear not.

 

Your sideburns are safe in the trusted hands of herself.

 

And ever shall you enjoy tonsorial delight.

 

And the patrons de la palais de porc saw that Merv was happy

And the Bailey’s of human kindness flowed.

 

On ice, as it is in Antarctica

(And the backstreets of Kings Cross).

 

Absolucion

12 Sunday Jun 2011

Posted by in Cricics, Critics, Everyone's a Critic, Emmjay

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Arrebato Ensemble - Damien de Boos-Smith, Andrew Poniris, Greg Alfonzetti, Stuart Henderson and Dave Ellis

The fabulous Arrebato Ensemble and friends played to a packed house in the Studio (cabaret space) in the Sydney Opera House last night.  It was the official launch of their new CD “Absolucion”.

The band was joined by Leonid Beshei on piano accordion and the talented,  fiery and lovely flamenco dancer – Anna Anterio (apologies for the spelling !).

The performance was a stunning and joyful celebration of Arrebato’s unique fusion of flamenco and jazz – at once intimate, passionate and even wistful at times.  The band tells wonderful stories with changing nuanced passages from Greg Alfonzetti’s hard attacking syncopated staccato phrases to the haunting wail of Andrew Poniris’ soprano and alto sax and Damien de Boos-Smith’s liquid cello – backed by Dave Ellis’ velvet brick wall bass and Stuart Henderson’s meticulously-timed percussion.  Damien de Boos-Smith played some wonderful guitar pieces too – but he really shone with his oud playing last night.  I was hearing a miraculous Madrid delta blues piece – which he played with a magically invisible slide.

Impossible to pick an individual piece as a favourite on the night, but for me “Verdades” – (Truths) was particularly fine – between the first truth you hear and the last – comes ….. everything else….

The band played a couple of encores – my favourite ; a mi padre (to my father) speaks of the bond between a man and his Dad.  The piece highlights Greg’s mastery not only of the instrument, but also his strength in composition and a brilliant collaboration with Damien.

You can listen to a couple of tracks at Arrebato’s Web site  – but whatever you do, try to score a copy of Absolucion – to fail to do so – would be unforgivable.

The Katter Came Back

10 Friday Jun 2011

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Borrowed from the Brisvegas ourier Mail

A little bit of Kat doggerel I’ll dedicate to Waz …. with apologies

There’s just the slightest small suggestion
Of a clot with indigestion
And a synapse looking for a big idea.

We often see an outback wonder
With such propensity to blunder
‘Round the bushy Hickville landscape – have no fear.

But what a little smarty,
He is to form a party
Without the need for thinkin’
Beyond huntin’, fishin, drinkin’
And shootin’ half-baked ideas out his barge-arse rear.

But it’s the hat, we’ll hand to Katter
All the other sh*t won’t matter,
We’ve seen the loonies from the deep north come and go

And as we slowly roll a durrie
Take our time – ‘coz there’s no hurry
We can watch the bastard scurry
Through the S-bend
And then gallop quickly past the Overflow

pipe

first published a moment ago at First Dog on the Moon – Crikey.com.au

I Ain’t Afraid of Nuthin’ – or How MUCH Damage Can you squeeze into the last ten seconds ?

26 Thursday May 2011

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The late Brandon Sia - teenage hard man

Now before you come on all limp and squishy on me and accuse me of not only condoning violence, but actively celebrating it, I want to say right here and now that all violence is wrong.

I also feel that we mostly live our safe lives, comparatively well protected from the harshness of life on the edge. But we still generally harbor a crippling suspicion – convinced that death stalks each and every one of us and that survival for another day is a remote possibility.

I suggest that this is because we buy a fair selection of the avalanche of shit in the media designed (successfully, one gathers) to keep the majority of us afraid, compliant and ready to live in trepidation under whatever dickwad cheesy governments and laws, regulations, expert advice and rules that are thrown at us.  Let’s be very afraid of a high cholesterol diet, a future carbon tax (shriek !), one too many standard drinks, and on and on and on.  Not for a minute suggesting that the ABC is complicit in this unending shock and awe campaign.  Not for one minute.  59 seconds, maybe.  Tops.

And I’m not suggesting that the subject of today’s rant was a model citizen and head choir boy.  He might have been.  I just don’t know.    It’s a fair bet that the lead up to the murder was not a disagreement over a theology assignment down at the local seminary.  But I suspect that by his last few actions in the land of the living, we could just possibly surmise that he knew perhaps a little too much of the hard side of the tracks than is good for a boy of 16.

Today the ABC reported (no, not on deeply intellectual complex matters…. how surprising and totally shocking is that ! ) that Brendan Siaa pulled from his own chest the knife with which he had been stabbed, and by way of reply stabbed his (allegedly) 22 year old assailant in the face, the neck, the wrist and in the leg before himself dropping dead on the Bankstown railway station platform.  Not a lot of problem identifying the assailant.  Sorry, ALLEGED assailant.  Bedside court appearance to come.  The ALLEGED murderer had form, allegedy, apparently, quite possibly.

I think you have to hand it to a guy who, surely knew the curtain was coming down in a hurry, managed to get in one last square-up. They breed ’em bloody tough in Bankstown.

It’s frightening, really.  The ABC report also said that the incident was captured on CCTV and that the security guard who was on duty on the platform amidst horrified peak hour commuters “acted appropriately”.  WTF did that entail ?  Running away at a million  miles an hour ?

I’ve no doubt that the CCTV footage will make its way onto Youtube (if it hasn’t already been there and been taken down) – much like the recent footage of a schoolkid beating the crap out of another kid who bullied him.  And I think that the issue will polarise people along the lines of secretly admiring an underdog who had a glimpse of a win – at least this time as fleeting as it was – but condemning the whole farrago – versus those who applaud a bloke who went down swinging some other killer’s blade.

It’s a tough call.  Particularly for Brendan’s 15 year old brother who survived with a stab wound to the leg.

Quite a lot of hatred on the streets of Bankstown – a lot more these days, I’m sure –  just a spit from where Gez and I spent our youth.

I don’t go back to Banky any more and I’m not wanting to advocate psycho violence, But I have to confess just a tiny feeling –  a sense of admiration  – for anyone so unafraid.

Story on the ABC

Picture for anxious punters:

Boomers Put Sex on the Table – Vale Gay Lysenko

24 Tuesday May 2011

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Dear Friends of the Pig’s Arms,

Some of our patrons may remember  an article written for the Australian Lung Foundation that we re-published – Lungevity in January 2010 – by Gay Lysenko – a long time great friend of Emmjay and FM.

I’m very sorry to bring the sad news that Gay passed away last week after a long struggle with cancer. We send our condolences to John and sons.

Gay was a brilliant and delightful woman who brought sunshine and champagne into the lives of those she met.  She was an avid collector and dealer of fine art and she re-awakened in FM and me a keen interest in the arts.

We will remember with great fondness always her generosity and her mischievous sense of humour.

This piece in the Australian (April 16 2007) by Sarah Elks captures a glimpse.

Goodbye old friend with love from Emm and FM.

Boomers put sex on the table


Open intimacy ... Gay and John Lysenko still enjoy a robust sex life. Picture: Amy Brown

BABY boomers are shattering stereotypes by having more sex in their 60s than previous older generations.

One of Australia’s leading sexual health physicians, Lesley Yee, who will lecture at the World Congress of Sexual Health in Sydney this week, said baby boomers were also more open about it.

“This generation grew up with the pill and are used to more open communication about sex,” Dr Yee said.

“Now, they’re challenging earlier conservative attitudes about older people’s sexuality.”

John and Gay Lysenko, in their late 50s, are living proof that physical intimacy does not have to diminish with age.

Over a long lunch with friends yesterday in a leafy northern suburb of Sydney, Gay said sexuality was an integral part of any loving relationship.

“In our home, John and I are very happy to close our bedroom door on a weekend afternoon if we want to have the afternoon in bed,” she said.

“We’re not self-conscious … it’s just a natural part of any relationship.”

Dr Yee said one major stumbling block for baby boomer couples was the reconciliation between physical capabilities and emotional desires.

“There’s an expectation that things will be the same as they were 20 or 30 years ago … and that desire is not always attainable physically,” she said.

John Lysenko said: “A lot of baby boomers don’t feel that they’re old … You just go on thinking the same as you always did and doing the same, until your body catches up with you.”

Gay added that sexuality was a major part of expressing love.

—ooo—

Pig’s Arms Weather Report

23 Monday May 2011

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It was a quiet week at the Pig’s Arms.

The gentle murmur of impending rain gave way to the f-tang f-tang of big fat drops falling 20 feet[1] through the rust holes in the upstairs guttering of the pub onto The Pig’s Legs Waxing and Beauty Salon’s  lidded 44 gallon drums (of Brazilians and former mono eyebrows), awaiting collection in the car park.  The downstairs guttering appears to be in far better shape but damp conditions will continue in the awning.

A low pressure zone developed over the pub’s morale when the RSPCA inspector came around asking questions about an allegedly-imprisoned granny.  It turned out the inspector was fighting cruelty to the aged and despite Foodge swearing that it was just a joke, granny wasn’t amused.  And the wedges were off.  Even more than granny was off, the wedges were way off.

A cold front blew through the pub’s libido when the burlesque spectacular planned for the Queen’s Birthday weekend in the Nathan Rees Memorial Ballroom fell through due to lack of support.  A severe brassieres warning was issued.

The bar roometric pressure briefly increased in the sportsman’s bar as the pub’s patrons dissected the dismal performance of our team in the Cook’s River Groupers and Sea Scouts fishing competition.  Warrigal and Gez were complaining about problems with their tackle but the discussion netted very little worth frying, despite T2’s assertion that these were indeed frying times.

Winds were increasing in the ladies lounge following the sudden opening of a window.  Several of the Lambrettista ladies complained that the winds were disturbing their lines just when they were expecting fine powder.

Emmjay was overcast.  He was well over the cast.  It had been a long fortnight of unrelenting unpaid overtime in the ABC wardrobe department and his industrial fatigue was beginning to show.  It started with a schedule mix-up at the photocopier that led to Phillipa Warnita being clad in Vegonia Etrollie’s suit.  This apparently startled children during din-dins and parents who usually had little trouble dropping off complained of disturbed sleep patterns for days afterwards (even during Midsomer Murders).  The ABC Board was unamused.  And unamusing.  It was clear that Emmjay was trying (with limited success) to grip with his toenails the slippery astroturf of a downward spiral – as he slid slowly, but inexorably towards redundancy.

The pub is experiencing a well below average influx from Cole-erado but continuing warm winds from the Victorian border and from the Aegean have recently raised the temperature of the kitchen.

Periods of sunshine are forecast with the return of the PA Women Storytellers (PAWS) – as Merv often comments – the PAWS that refreshes.

Conditions are further expected to improve with the arrival of a Big M front and when the forecast Father O’Way episode is Hung out to dry.

[1] The Pig’s Arms never really made it to metrification.  At the time, there was a shortage of metres.  They were on back order from Europe for months and when they finally did arrive in the country, a typographical error sent them to the Pigrams in Broome and the pub’s metric stock has never been seen since.