'Elena' at the Brazilian Festival

This Film festival is stupendous. Brazil certainly has a vibrant cinema industry although this latest offering, a documentary of sorts, has left me in a mixed state of sadness and admiration. Called 'Elena',  made by a woman Petra Costa, it was on the subject of the death of the writer/director's sister Elena, by suicide, in New York City in 1990. Beautifully shot and told with much personal early footage taken by the deceased person herself, the film is an absolute gem. Sorrowful, but real, incredibly beautiful and very touching, it made me think of the recent suicide of my good Brazilian friend R in Sydney, unfortunately not long after he had visited me in Hobart. There is a sadness and fatal quality in some people, I don't know if it is a national trait, I hope not, but have Brazilians today lost all their faith in a higher force? Perhaps it seems so. Their country is a strange mix of utter poverty and great wealth, a desire to escape coupled with a need to be free to express themselves, all this creating a complex recipe with sometimes a tragic result.

I think I need to see a more up-beat movie to raise my spirits about the Brazilians, although here in the foyer of the Paramount they are making great atmosphere and showing their musicality, versatility and love of life. Let's hope this is the real Brazil, after all it is called the Reel Brazil Film Festival! 

The Paramount is really the home to Art Cinema and the Wellington Film Society has weekly films here. One day when I have time, I will join it.

Forgot to mention the excellent short films on before each feature, and tonight's was called 'Night Shift', a fittingly sad preamble to the movie, but also a gem in its own right. Shot at Auckland airport it showed an episode in the life of an unhappy Maori shift worker, a cleaner, who was homeless living in her car with two little girls. Rather a desperate start to the evening...

Post movie food and singing...

Earnest conversation...

Brazil and ACT UP

Well two nights and two memorable movies, of which one, the documentary about the US gay community's reaction to an inert and homophobic government which led to the creation of a formidable grass roots activist group called ACTUP - the AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power - has given me more fodder for my already over-full  speech for next Sunday. To-morrow is my dead-line for making a hard copy, just for my own security. But first a quick look at my first of the Brazilian Film festival's offering at the lovely Paramount cinema on Courtenay Place.

Named  'Rio 2096', this animated film won a French Award at Annecy and certainly deserved it as although I am not a great fan of animated features it won me over with its subject and story line.

The hero is chosen to lead Brazil out of its troubles, but is killed several times and reincarnates as a bird until he meets again the woman whom he loves. It's quite romantic but also a history of indigenous Brazil and the way it has become a more European nation, but not happily ruled by despotic governments.

The second doco, 'United in Anger' was an accurate and  mostly hand shot amateur movie dating from the early eighties when the drama of AIDS hit the world, in this case the US, where someone was dying every forty minutes at one stage. But it was at first considered a Gay Disease and not treated as seriously as it should have been, so the angry grassroots activists started a big movement to get better and cheaper medications. It finally succeeded but only after a long and  bitter struggle and many tens of thousands of deaths of mainly gay men. It showed a very divided and dysfunctional America in the field of general health and especially epidemics. It was a hard hitting and often frustrating look at a country still suffering from national health welfare problems. Nothing has much changed. 

Another Discovery...

The wind has settled and with it the realisation comes that this little country is the source of so much creativity because of its isolation and wild weather. Nothing can be expected, but all is given. 

Last night at the Film Archive I witnessed two films by Kiwi film maker Peter Wells. One called 'A Death in the Family'  and the other 'Pansy', both written and co-directed by Peter. They were such a frank and honest exposition of his early life in the latter film, and in the former, a poignant story of losing a loved one to AIDS in the early eighties in Auckland. In this case the story, a very strong and true one, was based on the death of his older brother Russell. 

The telling of the story was over the last fifteen days of the life of a young gay man, and his relationships with his friends and family. It was not a very pretty one, the story of his family. Of farming stock, his gruff seemingly unfeeling father, a caring but lost mother, and a brother who breaks down admitting he had done a Judas betrayal of his brother when they were at school toogether. Later in 'Pansy', the autobiographical sketch featuring his real mother, Peter admits to wanting so much to be 'not gay' that he goes out of his way to avoid his older gay brother's example, something which he obviously lived to regret. 

The movie is unique in so many ways. The fact of its Kiwi simplicity, coupled with the desperate honesty and harsh reality of being gay in an unforgiving rural climate give it a quality which is extremely hard to find and it is a salutory reminder that being true to our own individual nature, however different it may be, is the the key to living an authentic and happy life. Which indeed, his brother did live, and which Peter eventually came to realise was his destiny also. He has gone on to be a successful published poet and author and lives with his equally talented partner in beautiful Art Deco Napier, north of Wellington. His partner is the curator and creator of the new Arts Centre, a theatre combined with museum and Art Deco Art Gallery which is the pride of Napier. It is artists like Peter, and pianist Michael Houston, composer Jack Body and choreographer Douglas Wright who are the modern day heros of artistic New Zealand.

Sunny day..

Perfect for running.. 

and visiting Auntie Mena's vegetarian restaurant for some hot

vegetable soup with won tons...

on Cuba Street.

Ti Whanawhana - fantastica!

This is fast becoming my favourite cafe, if only because of its coffee, sounds reasonable ay?

I have just made two purchases from Abel Traders, my local providore of things beautiful to decorate my home. The proprietor, a Cook Islander married to a Kiwi called Nicholas, is a rough cookie but I have given her quite a few sales already, including my tiger Selina, so she is sympathetic. Anyway I had been eyeing off this lovely portrait of a young Ho Chi Minh and could see him hanging happily in my Salon de francais. It wasn't an original, but a vey good print, so I went in to negotiate. She, call her Ida, was willing to make a sale as Ho had been there for a while. So I saw another print, a French poster, nicely framed, of a half naked woman advertiseing an exhibition in the eighties in Paris. So I suggested she throw that one in and we made a deal. Two for the price of one, but still a good price for her. I will now refrain from buying that bullock skin for the floor!

But really this blog is about my Maori singing and culture class of last night. What a lot of talent was in the room of the Prostitutes' Collective, and we all enjoyed so much the evening, ably facilitated by Kevin, my swimming mate. Ti Whanawhana is singing the opening and closing anthems at the Candlelight Memorial, so I am happy to say that part of the night will be excellent anyway. My speech is the other part I still haven't written so now home to give it a first draft.

After that it is the Wednesday HU and then quickly to see two gay films at the Film Archives, historical ones of early gay liberation in Wellington. Should be interesting so I am cancelling my Scottish Dance to attend as it is a one-off.

The Crate Cafe - connected to the famous Quilters Bookshop, second-hand of course.

Ghuznee Street, second only to Cuba

Te Reo Maori

Back to the tumultuous weather and the travails of learning this mysterious but wonderful language Maori. I will persist, and it means of course, I will have to study a little everyday if I ever want to master   this tongue. And I will. Like the weather, you can't beat it, just join it and make the most of it. The class went well although we did have an unexpected assessment at which I had to seriously cheat, but no matter, I'll learn it all eventually when I start to swot a little more.

It is a bit like the NZ politics at present. There is a big chatter through Twitter about a Minister accepting a dinner in China without declaring it. Such a storm in a tea cup, but it could mean the Minister's resignation if the PM is strong enough. The opposition is desperate to get a killing here.

I am now in serious preparation for my Candlelight Memorial speech, which has become marginally bigger, and more challenging.

Just heard good news from dear old Tassie. A good friend has reclaimed his youth and is sporting a new body and a big smile on his face. Congrats to him, no doubt when the new thrill settles down he will resume his first great love where his biggest talent lies, his wonderful art work. I promise to come to Hobart, or Launceston, for the opening of his SteamTrain Exhibition!

The northerly is up...

..the white caps are there...

...and the joggers are still jogging.

Late afternoon hot chocolate at Caffe Scopa on Cuba, always a favourite. Cool music playing and very attentive service, hoping I am here for a meal but I explain it is not for that. No problems, they are just as welcoming. This is quintessential young Wellington. Another example...walking along the street a few minutes ago I hear a call and a young man with a slight American accent but distinctive Wellington fashion had picked up my tartan scarf which had fallen on the footpath. He had run quite a wee way to get me and smiled and said 'You dropped your scarf' ...such kindness is never forgotten, I will now try to pass that on to another person tonight at my Ti Whanawhana class which  am really looking  forward to.

Today was quietly spent at home getting my emails done and also a small package to send to Vancouver, some Tibetan Pink Salt which I know Margaret would appreciate on her new 'free range eggs' she is now buying, but... the nice woman in the PO says 'no salt to go to Canada', it's on the screen so I can't argue and she won't let it go as Bath Salts. I consider my options for a while and then decide to unpack the salt and just send the photos with an apology. They will understand, after all it is their country which forbidding its entry. It's a pity though as she won't find Tibetan salt in White Rock I'm afraid.

Later strolling up Cuba I see a parked van selling hot coffee, tea, and real Chai. I stop by and ask the young man the recipe for his Chai. He tells me and it sounds very authentic so I promise to be back soon to buy a cup. I haven't had real Chai for many years and do like it very much.

My hot chocolate soon arrives at my table and it is melted real dark chocolate. I have to spoon it out with the teaspoon as it is too thick to drink. She said it was special, and it is, Italian style 'cioccolatta calda'. Again an authentic touch in Cuba Street.

Caffe Scopa after work...

Commuters walking home to their inner-city flats.

Cuba Street return

It's Sunday, two days since I have returned, and I must get my hit from Cuba Street. This street still remains my favourite street in The World! Having a hot lemon, ginger and honey drink in the cold of the evening is just what a man needs, especially before a night of hectic ballroom dancing with my Maori mates. Have earlier printed some old-fashioned hard copy photos to send to Vancouver. I still think it's nice to receive something in the mail occasionally, especially if it is nice photos of memories which I hope these ones are.

Now I decide to hit Midnight Espresso, with all the smells, colour and vibrations of forty years in existence, even though the clientele tonight would average about twenty years old. I would bring that average up a little I fear.

The morning was good, all my homework done on computer and then a nice visit from PNG friends L and WW who are always an enjoyable experience. We exchange plans and look forward to changes in our lives, when the time is right. To-morrow I am back to Te Reo Maori and swimming, which will be a big day of getting back my regular Monday activities. But all in good time...

Espresso in action...

...feeling at home.

...even with the young people.

...when their boy friend arrives a little later.

It was nice to see the dating game happening with these two young men in a 'straight' cafe, although it must be said Midnight Espresso is anything but conservative and attracts many of all genders. It is interestingly  positioned next to the oldest Wellington Gay Bar for men, S and M, standing for their proprietors' names 'Scott and Mel'. 

Back from dancing and H made everyone work tonight like crazy, possibly because he's going to Darwin for a fortnight for the OUT Games  and doesn't want us to forget him! It was a good if exhausting class and there was a new woman tonight, from Dunedin, who was delightful.

I do enjoy these Sunday nights.

Autumn in Wellington

Back home after three weeks in  supposed Spring in the Northern Hemisphere you'd think I would be disappointed to arrive back for winter, but no. Autumn here is proving mild and even sunny, so yesterday I was welcomed home and felt totally happy. See from home snaps the sun is shining on Evans Bay.

Beautiful views to come home to.

with sun on the balcony..

and indoor plant healthy and green.

Back to do some market shopping for fresh fruit and veggies which have not seen the inside of a deep freeze or even a fridge. The market is a welcome sight and I make a full week's purchase for only about twenty dollars. Lovely Wellington. Tonight I will go to the beautiful Michael Fowler Centre to hear my neighbour play with the NZ Symphony Orchestra. A fitting musical welcome home.

The first half was an amazing creation of mainly timpani written by Kiwi Jack Body. It was amazing, and I serendipitously witnessed it from right above the timpanists who were extraordinarily gifted. Jack himself came on to the stage to tumultuous applause and I know I have now discovered another hidden artistic genius in NZ. Now retired from NZ School of Music Jack has a world reputation and is softly spoken and modest. And a genius!

In the second part I upgraded my seat to dress circle to hear the exquisite tones from the Basses who were the backbone of three compositions, all remembering times of war. The second piece by Aussie Peter Sculthorpe, a Tasmanian to be exact, was called 'Memento Mori' which I had heard at its first recital in Sydney forty years ago. The final part, by Polish composer Gorecki,  was accompanied by soprano Australian Sara McLiver who also was delightful.

The whole concert was entitle 'We remember', one hundred years since WW2, and it was fabulous, what a talented orchestra there is here, and my neighbour Matt is one of them!