Notebooks - Los Cuadernos de Julia

Walking... (In Cammino...)

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Thu, 15 Jul 2010 20:57:00 +0000

walking... (in cammino...), originally uploaded by taxxon2705.

When I look at this photo, I think of calmness. The sensation of tranquility is almost palpable; the ancient portico breathes it, as does the man's dress.

But the red colours of columns and the cover evoke very different feelings - that of unrest and passion. There is clearly a path to take, a decision to make, and the lonely figure is moving along the pavement with impressive determination.

So calm and determined he is, that the man's body is entirely relaxed, as one can noticed in the effortless straight line his neck forms with his torso.

As I'm looking at this picture, I think: how wonderful it should be to have such vision that carries you along the chosen path adorned with the primary colour of passion - in every sense of the word...

The Irregular Ramblings of a Godless Liberal

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Mon, 05 Jul 2010 08:41:00 +0000

In the past I vowed to not write about politics or religion, but a newsletter that recently came through the post is worth being "reprinted". It raises a few valid points, and I am particularly glad to be living in the area where someone actually cares to write such a note.

Jehova's Witnesses and similar religious sects always undergo a renaissance during the period of hardships. Film lovers can remember the scene with flagellants from The Seventh Seal. The first time Witnesses surfaced in Russia was at the turn of 1980s-1990s, when crime and deficit were on the rise, while politically the country was torn apart by conflicting ideologies. As the text below describes, one of my brightest memories of one of the Jehova's converts is that of a tireless verbal fountain. I saw the woman many times on the street and on buses, always with a pack of booklets and a never-ending speech full of prophecies. The fact that they are becoming so active now in Britain is indicative of the period of social crisis the nation is surviving. People are reluctant to turn to the "traditional" Church, while they also know that such "common" methods of escaping the reality - hobbies, alcohol, drugs - cost money and don't really bring satisfaction. And thus, rather than looking for a solution within themselves, confronting their lifestyles and choices, they embrace a new teaching that is far more dangerous...

Hi everyone,

Some thoughts on our local home-grown religious fundamentalists... Jehova's Witnesses.

If you live locally, you may have had a visit from the Jehova's Witnesses last Sunday. Not only were the grown-ups out in force, but they had several children knocking at my door. Aside from the fact that these poor kids are brain-washed at such an early age, I'm not sure that it's a good idea to let them on doors without an adult accompanying them on the doorstep...

So, what exactly do the Witnesses actually offer us...? Well, in a nutshell... Death! Yes, that's right, folks, even if you're a mainstream Anglican, Catholic, Jew, Islamist or even (god forbid!) an atheist like myself, unless you kow-tow to the precise ravings of the Bible which this sad and sorry bunch of people say is the only interpretation, your reward is to be struck down by their (loving!) god, whilst a few tens of thousands of their chosen supporters return to a newly established Garden of Eden. I hope god has a good lawnmower, because it must be pretty overgrown by now. Oh, and if you're gay, lesbian, or bi - you can add yourself to the above Divine hit list, too.

Once upon a time various religious sects indulged their lunacies by making human blood sacrifices to their respective gods. Thankfully, that horror has disappeared, but lingers on in a very nasty way through the Witnesses. They are opposed to blood transfusions, and only a couple of years or so ago, in this country and the 21st century, a young mum, having just given birth to healthy twins, was denied a much needed blood transfusion which would probably have saved her life. Her husband, a devout Witness, refused the doctors' offer of a transfusion, and she died. Two young children will now grow up without ever knowing their mother, and perhaps suffer a lifetime of guilt as a result of this insane piece of decision making by their parents. Whatever spin you want to put on this story, I call it religious murder.

In May this year, 15-year-old Joshua McAuley, flown swiftly to Birmingham's Selly Oak hospital after being crushed in a car accident, refused all appeals by doctors to allow them to give him a blood transfusion. He died soon after. This young man could have become a doctor, an actor, a lover, a father, perhaps even the man who discovered how to obtain limitless energy from the most abundant element in the universe, hydrogen. We will never know. Sickeningly, Clive Parker, an elder at the Kingdom Hall of Jehova's Witnesses at Smethwick, said he did not want to talk about it because he 'didn't want to add to the family's distress'. This nauseating response conveniently hides the fact that adults like Mr Parker are responsible for poisoning the minds of the young and impressionable in the first place.

Anybody who allows their lives to be controlled and run by an imaginary, supernatural being is suffering from a delusion. Anybody who has researched the evidence for god, found it to be non-existent, and STILL chooses to believe, is therefore both delusional and a fool. Now, of course, anyone should be free to believe in the privacy of their own homes, meeting halls and churches, but once a religious organisation leaves the comfort of its home ground and trumps the streets spouting its dangerous nonsense, then anyone, myself included, has a perfect right to offer criticism and an alternative viewpoint. Which, of course, is the reason for this newsletter.

The problems with (any) god is that its commands, rules and laws (remember, we are still talking about an imaginary entity) can be translated and used by anyone with a particular agenda and viewpoint, and (of course!) cannot be questioned by mere mortals. Neat, eh?

And therein lies the problem, for it is precisely this kind of dangerous, non-thinking acceptance that can, and does, lead perfectly reasonable people to commit the most heinous acts in defense of their chosen religious dogma. We only have to consider the suicide bomber, or the Taliban who throw acid in the faces of young girls who commit the 'crime' of attending school, or the religiously accepted practice of surgically removing a young girl's clitoris.

Neither, as some religious apologists would have us believe, is religion the provider of absolute morality. The still unfolding scandal of child abuse within the deeply secretive Catholic church being a modern case in point.

Our 4,600 million year old planet Earth orbits our sun in our galaxy, the Milky Way, in which there are many billions of stars and planets. We know, too, that there are billions of galaxies, and that our 13,7 billion year old universe is continuing to expand at an ever increasing speed. With both order and chaos as two sides of the same mathematical coin, there is no guarantee that we humans will survive indefinitely. Modern humans have only been around for some 200,000 years. By comparison, dinosaurs existed for 180 million years before becoming extinct.

If we are continue to prosper and survive as a species, we must use carefully and thoughtfully the highly developed organ which can truly be said to separate us out from the rest of the animal world: our brain.

As the 5th ape, we must recognise our place within the natural world, with the full understanding that we are an animal species which is part of a highly complex ecological web, but whose brain gives us the ultimate responsibility of managing the fate of our planet. It is a responsibility we must not shirk, and it can only be achieved by a calm and cool appraisal of who and what we humans really are. A continued and irrational reliance upon the supposed words of a 'Father Christmas / fairies at the bottom of the garden' god-type figure and the resulting subsequent subjugation of our truly amazing brain is clearly not the way forward.

David.

It Is the Ideal That Is All Wrong

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Sun, 04 Jul 2010 19:31:00 +0000

I recently came across this phrase by G. K. Chesterton:

"The real American is all right; it is the ideal American who is all wrong".

I have a lot of American readers, all of whom, I am sure, are wonderful and not at all ideal people, whom I would like to send my greetings on the Independence Day. However, the phrase sums up much more than just the British reservations about the Americans at the turn of the 19th-20th cc. The phrase underlines our approach to just about anything, but especially problems.

It is a totally normal thing among humans to exaggerate, particularly when something bad is happening. Something I read recently points out to a very interesting thing: although we're advised to "know thyself", most often it is our negative self that we know the best. Indeed, the majority of you reading this post are likely to eagerly to admit to some of their worst traits than openly appreciate their good qualities.

Now, imagine having about a problem. Taken on its own, it is neutral. A few instances in life have led me to believe that someone will always have had - or is having - a worse problem than me, so, objectively speaking, a problem is just a problem. It is when we put a spin on it that it becomes THE problem - an emotional event of universal proportions, with a catastrophic impact.

If you let your mind do this, then before too long a tiny inconvenience becomes a disaster, while something bigger grows astronomically to the point when you don't know how on Earth to deal with it. This is how a real problem becomes an Ideal Problem, with the whole tragedy attached.

What we need to remember henceforth is that the ideal problem is always a far cry from the problem at hand. however bad it may be. A real problem can always be dealt with; but just as one cannot attain the ideal in real life, so one cannot ever solve an ideal problem - because it is out of human capacity to cope with the ideal.

So, next time we're having problems in life, let;'s make ourselves a favour and not blow it out to monstrous proportions. Whatever it may be, let's deal with it as it is, not as our media-conditioned hype-sensitive unconscious mind suggests us.

A Flying Visit to Carlisle

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Sun, 04 Jul 2010 16:34:00 +0000

I visited Carlisle on Saturday. Even though it was a flying visit, I'm glad it has finally taken place, as I wanted to visit this ancient Roman city for a while. One thing even a casual visitor will notice is perfectly straight streets - a trademark of Roman city planning.

I didn't have a chance to visit any historic places, apart from Carlisle Market: a lovely Victorian trading hall, complete with lacy blue decor of steel stalls, located in the 1854 premises. I successfully overcame a temptation to buy some green wool, as a matter of fact. Carlisle is located a stone-throw away from the Scottish border, and it is not uncommon to meet people from Scotland or even Ireland dropping for a visit.

Most importantly, in personal sense, is the fact that this was the first time I visited Cumbria since 2006. One of my colleagues recently remarked that my training as an historian certainly impacts the way I talk about things. "Every time you speak about something, you always seem to be giving a precise date, like, "Um, I watched this movie on the 17 of November 2005 at 6 o'clock in the evening"", he said.

Admittedly, I rarely give a precise time, but sometimes my memory registers minute details of season or year. In 2006 I was in Windermere, it was a rainy cold January day, and there were four people in a car. It was one of those "family trips". There was even a lunch in a restaurant with the view of the lake from the window.

Since then I've not been anywhere near Cumbria, and since 2002 I've never visited the county in summer. Luckily for all travelling, it was a hot sunny day, and for a good one and half hours we were driving past the green and yellow fields, windmills, cows and sheep, and magnificent mountains.

Although I'd love to come back to Carlisle and spend a day or two exploring it, I feel this is a good omen overall. I've not been to Scotland yet, and a short conversation with a lady from Dumfries was a huge inspiration. So, before I go anywhere outside the UK, I'll have to travel across the northern border to either Glasgow or Edinburgh.

The Life of Klim Samgin - Childhood 2

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Tue, 22 Jun 2010 10:13:00 +0000

Episode 1, "Childhood. 1877", part 2.

Narrator: Neither did Klim's father escape the arrest and prison, having been expelled from the Univesity. Klim's mother's cousin died during one of transportations. And when heroes were brought to their knees, they, as it always happens, turned out to be guilty of inspiring hopes and not making them come true.

People were quickly becoming cleverer. And, agreeing with Spencer that one cannot get golden conduct out of leaden instincts, they were concentrating their strengths and talents on self-knowledge, on the problems of an individual's being, rapidly accepting the idea that "our time was not the time of great tasks".

And yet every Sunday people who were still living in the yesterday were gathering at the Samgins'.

Grandfather: There is only one path for Russia! Only one!

Varavka: Are we Europe or not? Europe, indeed. You cannot get too far with the common man. There is only one horse in Russia that can move the cart, and it is the intellectuals.

Doctor: Well, you know, this is God knows what!

Narrator: Several people always took part in those debates: Samgin's lodger, an engineer Timothei Stepanych Varavka, Klim's father, Ivan Maksimych, a home teacher of Samgins' children, Stepan Andreich Tomilin, a distant relative and midwife Maria Romanna whose husband died in exile, doctor Somov with his wife, and always grandfather and grandmother.

Varavka: I have the impression that there are two tribes living in Russia. One can only talk and think of the past, the other - only about the future, very distant, too. The present and tomorrow is of almost no interest to them. I don't know, I am personally afraid of such people. They are the good Russian people who think that it is possible to influence the flow of history with the flow of the word. I always give a friendly warning: be vigilant of a good Russian man. Of course, this is a nice man. Nice. It is sheer pleasure to chat to him about the past. But he cannot at all see and understand the present. His role is sorrowful: the role of a child who daydreams while crossing the street, oblivious to the fact that in a moment he will be crushed by the heavy cart of history guided by the experienced but not so gentle whips. No, a good man has nothing to do with it. In the best outcome he is like the decor on the facade of a would-be edifice, but as the edifice is only just being erected, then...

Samgin-father: But remember that culture, in the end...

Varavka: ... culture is also a premature event and hence dangerous. And what is culture now, anyway? Books, paintings, a bit of music and very little science. The "culturedness" of a handful of people who fancy themselves to be the salt of the earth, the spiritual knights and so on, boils down to the fact that they merely don't swear aloud and sound sarcastic when they talk about water-closet. No, all of them are profoundly uncultured, as far as my understanding of the meaning of culture goes. Indeed. Culture is the love for labour. And it is just as irrepressibly passionate as love for a woman. What's the matter?

Maria Pomanna: But what about your love for thy neighbour? Excuse me, Timophei Stepanych...

Varavka: I excuse you not! And your love for the common people is entirely artificial and contrary to the human nature. Man wants not to love his neighbour, but to fight with him. This love of yours is nothing without repulsion, hatred for that filth in which the man lives. Besides, let's not forget that spiritual life thrives only thanks to material well-being.

Samgin's wife: Yes, yes, yes, Timothei Stepanych is right. Life turned out to be more complex than we thought. A lot of what we've taken for granted should be revised. And enough, enough... enough of worthless sacrifices. It's time to be wise.

Maria Romanna: You're mad, Vera! To be wise under the vampirical emperor?

Varavka: Fanaticism! Fanaticism. Hey, teacher? Why are you keeping silent? Go on, search the garbage gin of your memory.

Teacher: Truth has been given to people by two genuises. "Persevere", said Dostoyevski, and "Do not object to the evil of force", added Tolstoy.

Somov: Nonsense! Childish words. The illustrious Count de Chaliteri didn't read Darwin. Every rational move of a man will inevitably be enforced against either his neighbour or himself.

Somov's wife: Darwin is a devil. He decided that the law of life is the evil and war on earth. I hate him.

Teacher: Admittedly, hatred elevated to madness creates the all-embracing truth.

Somov: Evil, my dear teacher, is in people themselves. One should be blind if he cannot understand the basic truth when reading Maltuss. The reason why our common man is so poor is because the common people procreate quickly.

Varavka: My, what are you sayng?

Somov: See for yourself: the first wife of the peasant Yakov Kirillov from Vvedenskoe village of Shuya region gave birth to 57 children.

Varavka: Can't be true!

Samgin-father: How is this?

Somov: This is how: four quadruplets, seven triplets, and ten twins. And this is not all. His second wife had 15 children, one triplet, and six twins. From the same region, peasant Fedor Vassiliev had 69 children after his first marriage. Four quadruplets, seven triplets, and 16 twins. His second wife was pregnant 8 times and gave birth to 18 children, two triplets and six twins. Here's the labour folk to you.

Varavka: Wait a minute. As a matter of fact, in the family of one intellectual, the director of school in Tobolsk, there were 17 children. Seventeen! And the last one to be born in 1834 was the now living public figure, famous chemist and teacher, Dmitry Ivanych Mendeleev. His mother was then 39 years old.

Somov: And yet not at all everyone should come to see this life's light.

Maria Romanna: Why, what you are saying!

Somov: There are two of them over there, but in total there is ten, for one of them is nil, and another is one.

Samgin-father: Klim! Klimushka! COme here!

Grandmother: Only time knows who and what is better, doctor.

Samgin-father: Go on, tell us, little man, what is better than anything?

Klim: When they bury the general.

Samgin-father: And why?

Klim: Because the music is playing.

Samgin-father: And what is worse than anything?

Klim: When mother has got a headache.

Samgin-father: See?

Varavka: Yes, yes.

Klim: Varavka, why do you have such a surname, like an insect? Are you not Russian?

Varavka: I am Turkish. My real surname is "do-not-beat-with-stick-but-with-coin". And "beat" is "hasai" in Turkish.

Klim: This is bonna's saying. Why do you lie?

Varavka (pause)

Samgin-father: Come on, read us from Nekrasov, from the words "You, who find enviable living..."

Klim: "You, who find enviable living in adoration of shameless flattery, circumlocution, gluttony, and gaming, - wake up! There is another pleasure! Call them back, in them is your salvation! But the happy ones turn a deaf ear to kindness".

Maria Romanna: He will be an honest man!

Samgin-father: Fine, go to bed. Play with the girl and then go to bed. Klim: Dad, I'm bored with her. Can I sit with you for a bit? Just for a bit. Samgin-father: A-ha-ha, look at him. No, go, go. It's not good. Go play. There's the girl sitting, go and play with her, run. Maria Romanna: Go, go, my dear. I would compare them to flowers. Klim is a red flower.

How to Find What You're Looking For

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Sun, 20 Jun 2010 15:34:00 +0000

I have noticed something in the search queries, so I thought I'd write this quick post. It's taken me a while to get up to what I was going to do; it seems things are now faring in the right direction, though. Normally, when you want to find something you google it. Yet when it comes to the query "klim samgin" you'd much rather bookmark this label - "The Life of Klim Samgin" - to receive regular updates. You can still google it, of course, but if you're after the translation of this classic Russian screen adaptation, it is to be found directly here, on this blog.

Sunday Afternoon Thoughts

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Sun, 20 Jun 2010 13:31:00 +0000

I was in Buxton recently, it was my first time in the town and in Derbyshire. One Englishman-turned-Canadian didn't hear a trace of foreign accent in my English, so he was genuinely surprised to hear that I wasn't originally from the UK.

A couple of other people were able to spot some "foreigness" but certainly didn't trace it all the way back to Russia.

I'll be hitting the first "round" birthday this December, but most people who meet me think I'm 22 or 24. Which is great, of course... as long as they don't assume that my mental age and experience are those of a 22-year-old.

And still even a larger number of people think I am French. This has to do primarily with dress sense, as it seems. Apparently, if you dress distinctly and in style, with statement accessories, in classy leather, you've got to be from Paris. So, the goal for me is to go to Paris to see how many French people would take me for their compatriot. For all I know, they'll be thinking I'm from New York.

Jokes aside, I've recently realised two things. One, I've spent all of my twenties in England. I met my late English husband in 2000, visited the country for the first time in 2002, and since 2003 I've been living in the UK without travelling anywhere, except within the country. So, out of nearly thirty years I've spent (roughly) 20 in one country and 10 in another. The goal is to make sure that the next 10 years are spent in travelling worldwide, so by the time I'm 40 I can confidently choose the place "to settle down" (and continue travelling).

Two, everyone asks me what made me come to Manchester. They don't usually know the story, so the question is correct from their side. For me, though, the question is different, and this downed on me in Buxton. It's "what made me stay in Manchester", for sure. And if I'm honest with myself, then I must admit that at times I was too inert and didn't take enough control of events in my life. I didn't always listen to what intuition told me; I tried to win the battles that were not worth fighting; and little by little all the above began to make me feel helpless. After all, it's hard to carry the whole world on your shoulders.

I know it's changing, and it is amazing just how far and how rapidly you can go when you commit to your vision. I'm currently sitting in the living room in a big house, in pleasant and peaceful silence (although I've just finished listening to Dire Straights' "Sultans of Swing"). It's my day-off, and I'm doing what I want to be doing. I walk home from work which takes me 45 mins; the area is leafy and calm, there's a park nearby where I should be going for a walk with my friends tonight; two of the people from the house went to celebrate the Summer Solstice at Stonehenge on Monday. The river is flowing just outside the house, and everything feels bright...

The Life of Klim Samgin - Childhood 1

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Sun, 20 Jun 2010 12:00:00 +0000

Episode 1, "Childhood. 1877", part 1.

Narrator: The final and farewell novel was, according to Alexei Maksimych, the conclusion to everything he'd done. "Mendeleev has a book with a very meaningful title "To the understanding of Russia", Gorky wrote, "and I would be glad if my chronicle could be called the same".

(In Samgins' house, Klim's mother lies in labour).

Klim's aunt: A boy! Klim's father: (laughing) Klim... of course... Klim!..

Narrator: The year 1877, the twenty second year of the reign of Alexander the Second. 16 years since the slavery was abolished. The population of Russia is 100 mln people. Peasants are 91 mln; workers - 7 mln; landlords, civil servants, priests, and the middle class - 1 mln; soldiers, policemen, geandarmes, prison wardens, and warders - around 1.5 mln. 73 mln people are illiterate. Russia is the country with the lowest corn crops in Europe, and the highest birthrate and child mortality rate.

(At Samgins' house, a typical scene of a child's upbringing in the 19th c. Russia)

Narrator: The early years of Klim Samgin's life coincided with desperate fight for freedom and cultural growth undertaken by people who courageously and helplessly placed themselves between the upper and nether millstones, between the pathetic government and the illiterate people, retarded by slavery. Loathing the power of the tzar, honest people a priori decided to love the common people with great sincerity, and thus went to resurrect and save the folk. To ease the task of loving the everyman, they imagined him as a being of unique spiritual beauty; they adorned the everyman with the wreath of a guiltless sufferer, a saint's numbus; and put his physical pains above those moral sufferings that the cruel Russian realities lavishly poured onto the country's best people. Countless is the number of sacrifices made by those freedom fighters

The Samgins had had their share of sacrifices for the people. The eldest brother of Klim's father, uncle Yakov, having spent two years in prison, was exiled to the Siberia. He tried to escape, was caught and transported somewhere in Turkistan.

The Feast of Trimalchio 23 [Flickr]

loscuadernosdejulia — Fri, 18 Jun 2010 15:16:51 PDT

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Single People

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Mon, 14 Jun 2010 08:18:00 +0000

I watched Tom Ford's debut film last night, A Single Man. I should probably say that it is a good start for Ford if he wants to apply his creativity outside the haute couture world. At the moment I have to watch films without glasses, so my shortsightedness may be the reason why I didn't quite see any gaffs. Eroticism has remained on the level of suggestion, either in image or language ("are you going camping somewhere?"), which cannot be bad for a feature at the centre of which is a gay relationship. And the accolades Colin Firth has received for his role are entirely deserved.

What is noticeable, of course, are borrowings, or at least parallels with other films or the work of other directors. Ford clearly derives inspiration from Greenaway's "The Thief..." as far as the light and colour are concerned. The past is presented in sepia, a slightly animated version of black-and-white. The present is painted in lukewarm colours, but whenever Firth's character feels happiness and love for life colours brighten and bedazzle a viewer. As many of us will remember, Greenaway used a similar technique: Helen Mirren's dress would be dark in the company of her husband but turn light instantaneously with her lover, indicating a change from vice and unhappiness to clarity and bliss.

The element of predictability is present in the plot from the start, and this may be singular biggest drawback of the film; after all, why watch a movie if you already know the end? The Fate hovers over the character of Firth so palpably that it is almost surprising how much he manages to accomplish before suffering a fatal heart attack.

For Christopher Isherwood, on whose novel the film is based, fatality must have been the most important theme in this work. And the essence of fatality is eloquently expressed by Julianne Moore's character: "My future is my past". It applies to the life of Firth's character in the way that he still dies even after he'd reconsidered suicide. His past is a 16-years relationship with Jim, and now that Jim has died in a car accident George's future is to follow his partner in one way or another.

There is no way to judge people's choice about the past. If we assume that Firth's character was wrong to be so immersed in his relationship and its tragic end, then so was the mistake Alexander McQueen had made earlier this year when he committed suicide, following his mother's death. The film clearly points out that what you wish for eventually comes to you. The proverbial law of attraction works for both good and bad fortune, and a single powerful encounter with the good may not be enough to revert the course of events leading the person to the result they have chosen for themselves. And in this A Single Man strangely reminds of Sam Mendes's American Beauty, of a promise of relative happiness and fulfillment thwarted by the hand of Fate.

Julie Delvaux on BBC Radio Manchester (2006)

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Sun, 13 Jun 2010 23:14:00 +0000

This is a full version of my interview on BBC Radio Manchester in November 2006, at Ordsall Hall in Salford. I was interviewed by Richard Fair who was heavily involved in BBC Manchester Blog, along with Robin Hamman. This is the first time I listened to it since 2006, and I have to admit to loving it. This is one of the best moments of my career so far. Imagine what it must be: to work and do interviews for the UK's leading broadcaster only to end up being interviewed by them yourself! Exhilarating, at the very least.

Nearly four years down the line, I was particularly curious about what has changed in terms of subjects. I know I started using photography much more, including articles on the topic. Literature as the subject still stands out but there is a fair number of posts about Cinema, as well. Considering that I see the future of my career in terms of converging Literature and Cinema this should not be surprising.

Needless to say, I will feel very cold when I eventually go to Russia because after 7 years in the UK my "Englishing" has become almost complete - and that's not counting my British passport.

And I still write sparingly about myself, sharing mostly what is really important for people. In doing so, I clearly express my ability as a healer. Just today I've read a wonderful article about fears and issues in life, but the early paragraphs were especially startling. People do confide in me, although they don't always expect any advice I may be able to give them. I have realised some time ago that they do so exactly because they feel I may be able to help them. Yet, as they say, before you can help anyone you should help yourself. And this is just what I am doing these days, even now. There are over 10 interviews I will upload to my Posterous, but I chose to start with myself. After all, as George Orwell said - and this is what I quoted in my interview - an author must be vain if s/he wants to succeed.

Enjoy!

(6615 KB)
Listen on posterous

Posted via web from Julie Delvaux on Posterous

We Can Do Everything

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Fri, 11 Jun 2010 20:31:00 +0000

As they say, if you can still control things you're not moving fast enough. God knows, I moved three times in the last two months, and while I'm open to travel opportunities I like to think that each time I will now be coming back to "the base". Never mind me, my belongings are also tired of being moved and shaken.

What this means is that we can everything. When changes occur, especially dramatic changes, the usual reaction is to avoid response in the hope that this way it will be easier to deal with whatever is happening. But, really, can anyone move things for me? Can anyone solve my problems, except me? I am grateful to people who help me and support me, but in the end it's up to me, and I can do it.

The best thing is that I'm back online, and can take things forward. The song is just on the subject; as a matter of fact, it was covered by Mina Mazzini, but here it is accompanied by the original trailer. "This is the time, it's the place, it's the motion, this is the way we're feeling..."

How to Say "No"

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Tue, 18 May 2010 11:45:00 +0000

It is a commonplace among psychologists to say that people often find it difficult to say "no".

I propose to revise, in fact to refute, this point of view. It is erroneous because this is the easiest thing to do for a lot of people.

There are many ways of saying "no". If you don't like the sound of "no", "nein", "non", or "нет", then you're in for an arsenal of ways to let the other person know you're negative.

"I'll have a think about it " is the most common one. People usually say this in full confidence that by the time they accidentally remember your proposition you will have completely forgotten about it.

"I need to discuss it" is another ways of saying "no". You imply that you're not a decision-maker. Even if you have to discuss something with your inner self, you're still admitting that the inner you wears the pants at all times - even if you're in a skirt (or kilt).

"I don't want to do this today"... By George, I heard this so many times from different people. I live for the day when I will be surrounded by people who are dying to do it today. "It" obviously has to be something above and beyond the average list of things we do on a daily basis. It cannot be eating, taking a shower, or having sex. It has to be: sending an important letter, making time for a worthwhile task, breaking out of the routine.

As you can see, it is easy for people to say "no". We all say "no" for this or that reason. Whenever there is a challenge, the first thing the majority of people think, say and do is "no". There is "no" change, "no" progress, "no" happiness, "no" prosperity because all of these involve a huge risk of saying "yes" to the unknown, to the opportunity. They want to think about it, to discuss it, to postpone it - until the time the opportunity is gone.

Psychologists are fundamentally wrong assuming that it is difficult for people to say "no". They misinterpret the chain of thinking when a person says "yes" to his oppressor. In reality, the person is saying "no" to his real self who would gladly refuse to be obliged. But because the person is afraid of what may follow he says "yes" to what he perceives as the real power, the dominant force.

So, next time you have to say "no" think exactly what, or whom, you are refusing. Perhaps, it is high time to say "yes".

The Fate of a Chinese Vase - In Russian

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Mon, 17 May 2010 10:17:00 +0000

Эта китайская ваза - одна из многих, что экспонируются в музее и художественной галерее Бристоля. Кому-то экспонат напомнит о Музее искусств народов Востока, кому-то - об Эрмитаже, кому-то - собственно о Китае. Мне же с довольно давних пор китайская ваза неизменно напоминает о рассказе Славомира Мрожека "Страж китайской вазы". За это знание я благодарна сокурснику-полонисту, кого я, в свою очередь и во время оно, вывела на Гомбровича.

И вот наступил наконец для него последний день службы, уже завтра он сможет передать свой пост следующему поколению и уйти на заслуженный отдых. В зале приемов шли приготовления к торжеству. Вечером предстояло попрощаться с заслуженным человеком, вручить ему медаль и почетный диплом, затем должен был состояться банкет с участием дирекции, представителей министерства и коллег. Он, как обычно, занял свой пост, но вдруг его впервые охватило предчувствие, что произойдет что-то необычное. Шестое чувство стража, обострившееся за тридцать лет службы, подсказывало ему, что сегодня случится нечто такое, чего до тех пор никогда не случалось. И его беспокойство можно было понять. Его мучили опасения, что именно сегодня - когда он в последний раз исполняет свой долг, свою обязанность, с которой ему удавалось столь безупречно справляться долгих тридцать лет, - кто-то покусится на святыню, им оберегаемую, и разрушит всю его карьеру, если он не сумеет предотвратить подобное святотатство.

И он усилил свою обычную, и без того повышенную и натренированную за долгие годы бдительность до крайнего предела. Он буквально пронизывал взглядом каждого, кто приближался к святыне, стремясь предугадать каждый шаг и каждое движение, упредить любой шелест и даже вздох. Он замирал в неутомимой готовности, чтобы при малейшем признаке опасности вскочить, предвосхитить, не допустить и предотвратить. Как же медленно проходили секунды в течение многих, долгих часов. Но чем дольше ничего не происходило, тем сильнее была его убежденность, что наконец должно что-то случиться.

Время шло к вечеру, близились сумерки и конец его переживаний. Но между тем предчувствие необычного события сменилось у него уверенностью, и, когда прозвенели звонки, извещающие посетителей, что наступило время покинуть музей, он не мог поверить, что день прошел и ничего, однако, не произошло. Ни сегодня, ни за последние тридцать лет.

Он не мог поверить даже тогда, когда последний посетитель исчез в дальних дверях, и позднее, когда в зале музея остался уже только он, один-одинешенек возле китайской вазы, по-прежнему нетронутой, невредимой и бесценной.

Читать полный русский текст.

OpenEverything: The Reward of Failure

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Thu, 13 May 2010 20:49:00 +0000

Chris Taggart's short talk on open data and the rewards of failure struck a particularly strong cord with me. The governments and businesses have lackadaisically been adopting new technologies and approaches to sharing "sensitive" information with the consumers. Nearly a year ago I was still hearing "no news is good news" from a company's CEO. Thankfully, a lawyer and entrepreneur has spoken up on the issue at the first of FutureEverything festival.

The problem that surrounds the open data movement has to do with the exposure of a failure. But, in my opinion, failure is crying for a correct definition. Or maybe we need to listen to those who know better - like Thomas Edison, for instance. Someone asked him what it was like to fail hundreds of times at inventing electricity that would redefine the way we live our lives. His answer was: "I didn't fail once. I am eliminating the ways that don't work. Once I have eliminated them all, I will have found the one that works".

Edison would fail if he'd stopped trying. The real failure occurs when you stop learning from your mistakes. And, by definition, various structures here and there across the globe fail not because they don't do things correctly but because they don't want to accept the fact that they are making mistakes. There is a global movement of presenting oneself as a Caesar's wife who, as we know, is beyond suspicion.

The way of concealing a failure is very simple. You initiate a big project. It brings you publicity and power but it also helps to conceal the personal faults. Obviously, when you are involved in a small project the spotlight is on you and all your faux pas, however small. Last but not least, you can outsource everything which means minimising costs. It is no secret that outsourced work often costs less than an official involvement.

Is it really the way forward? As we have seen with the last year's MPs expenses scandal, explosive truth conceals more danger than an open management of political affairs. Openness seems to be the most powerful preventative measure, but there is something better that open data brings to the table.

Making a failure public means, in simple terms, accepting responsibility. Whatever we may think doing so is the ultimate indication of leadership, and this may be one of the reasons why individuals and organisations alike may want to be open about problems they encounter on their way to success. However, this should not be a mere announcement of a problem - there should be a determined effort to fix it. Internet is all about accepting and fixing all sorts of problems, from connectivity to data sharing. The best part of taking responsibility for fixing the problem is that this will be the real achievement associated with you. "Can do" attitude is all about accepting the limitations and pushing the envelope.

As a result of this, Taggart argues, the terms of debate about open data need to be changed. For a start, we should be thinking and talking evolution, not revolution. Open data is already there, so the idea is that we keep exploring this area, rather than try to radically reinvent the wheel. Secondly, we need to be transparent about problems. Open data invites ideas and knowledge sharing, and this in turn encourages what Taggart calls "distributed innovation". In this case data becomes open by default, so as to allow participating individuals and organisations to use the opportunities presented by data sharing. The important factor, however, is the encouragement of innovation and small projects. This is really the chance to help bring one's creativity to the new level; to allow different viewpoints and expertise to mix in producing the solution to a problem.

Unfortunately, the fear culture is pervasive, and for a good reason. The question of privacy and potential misuse of open data rests on many people's minds, and there is no denying that it can be a dangerous problem. However, as with failure, the solution lies in accepting the obvious. Yes, there is a danger of misusing the data that is currently kept private. But there is clearly the way to prevent this from happening. So, rather than dwelling on the hundreds of cases when open data was misused, why not find the way that will illuminate the way to share the data and to protect it at the same time?

FutureEverything 2010 - In Russian

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Thu, 13 May 2010 16:57:00 +0000

Мой первый Futuresonic случился в 2006 г. Тогда я делала программу на местном веб-радио. Я уже не помню, что именно меня привлекло в программе. Это был первый год, когда в рамках фестиваля прошла конференция, в ходе которой обсуждалось будущее архитектуры и дизайна, в частности применительно к общественным местам. Один из докладов был посвящен конкретно конструкции и наблюдения за пространством аэропорта (безусловная необходимость со времен 11 сентября). Еще один доклад представил хорошо известную и любимую многими нынче платформу - Last.fm. В тот год, впрочем, я посетила много музыкальных мероприятий.

В прошлом году я провела большую часть времени на конференции по проблемам развития современных технологий. Магистральными темами были вопросы приватности частных данных, доверия в Интернете и саморепрезентации в сети. Определение и модуляция своей "айдентити" представляет огромный интерес, в силу очевидных причин.

В этом году я решила пойти на фестиваль в последний момент, получив личное приглашение от директора. Поэтому на конференции я всего один день, но, кажется, я сделала правильный выбор, придя именно сегодня. Помимо телемостов с Японией, Бразилией, Канадой и Турцией, сегодня прошли доклады, посвященные следующему этапу в развитии Интернет и социальных технологий - семантической сети.

Я не была на конференциях с прошлого года, и ровно столько же я не писала блогпост в реальном времени. Я с радостью заключаю, что настоящее умение не пропадает, поскольку этот пост я пишу в полутемном зале театра, где проходит конференция. Кажется, я даже не делаю ошибок, но на всякий случай прошу извинить вашего покорного слугу за случайные опечатки.

В самом конце концов, в рамках фестиваля пройдет показ проекта группы AES+F "Пир Трималхиона". В прошлом году проект открыл Венецианскую Биеннале; в этом году манкунианская публика имеет шанс оценить работу российского медиа-коллектива.

Futuresonic returns as FutureEverything

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Thu, 13 May 2010 12:47:00 +0000

As my colleagues often say, "things are happening". Right now they are happening all across Manchester, as the most innovative, thought-provoking, academic yet accessible festival is back in town. What used to be known as Futuresonic for some 15 years has returned in 2010 as the rebranded FutureEverything. I would really like to thank its infatigable organiser, Drew Hemment, for inviting me.

Unlike last year, I'm only attending the conference today, which is 13th of May. The talks I've been to so far were a group talk between Manchester and Sendai in Japan, and I'm going to another series of such talks later in the afternoon. The talk I have just left was an OpenEverything panel, and the next two talks that I am going to go to - before returning to Glonet - will be OpenData and the Semantic Web and The Mythology Engine.

As I am typing this, I am sitting right in front of a small TV, watching people in Sendai, Japan. FutureEverything had to start with a bang, and I am glad to say that it is so far proving to be quite mind-blowing. This is my third year, and I saw a lot of innovation previously, but little did I think that this year would see global audiences merging together in a fantastic, challenging and stimulating dialogue. There is still one day to go, so I hope it runs smoothly, but my credits will definitely go to Drew and Julian Tait (the Programming Director of the festival) for doing a brilliant, if painstaking, job.

Last but not least, I am almost ecstatic as this year's arts programme includes a visit from the Russian group AES+F. Last year their project, The Feast of Trimalchio, was presented at the Venice Biennale, and I was gutted I couldn't go and see it. Well, as we know, if Mohammed wants to go the mountain but cannot, the mountain may eventually come to Mohammed. This is exactly what is happening, as The Feast of Trimalchio is shown between 12 and 16 of May at the Palace Hotel in Manchester. Opening time is 10am to 9pm.

Victory Day 65th Anniversary - 2

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Sun, 09 May 2010 19:48:00 +0000

To continue with the previous post, here are more photos from the Victory Day parade rehearsal my father sent me.

Lastly, here is the portrait of my grandmother made, I believe, when she was 16 or 17. Interestingly, many years later, when I was about the same age, I took a photo of myself on Fuji or Kodak film with a traditional Kodak camera. You may wish to compare, I thought. Here is how generations connect and flow.

As part of my work, I sometimes come across elderly people who either were at war or remember the hardships of their childhood. When they learn I am Russian, they invariably thank me for my country's heroism. For my part, I always thank my Grandma and people of her generation for pulling the whole world out of the trouble in which it had found itself 60 years ago. So, whether you are Russian, British, American, or French, or the descendant of one of the anti-Fascists from Germany, Italy, or Spain, my words of gratitude are to you and your parents or grand-parents. I would love to think that we have learnt the lesson of those distant years.

И я от всего сердца поздравляю свою бабушку и своих соотечественников, где бы вы ни были, с годовщиной Великой Победы. Я с гордостью могу сказать, что за все без малого семь лет, которые я провела в Британии, я преимущественно слышала слова благодарности в адрес нашей страны от многих британских ветеранов. Безусловно, меняются времена - меняются оценки. Но за этими переменами важно не терять из виду очевидные факты. В российской публицистике и даже научной литературе прослеживается тенденция к развенчанию героического подвига Советского Союза. Есть недочеты, просчеты, неудачи... Умаляет ли это все жертвы и весь героизм моей страны? Отнюдь. На фоне многих кофликтов, имевших и имеющих отнюдь не благородные цели, победа СССР в 19145 году - это достижение более высокого порядка, чем любой предшествовавший или последовавший мирный договор 20 века. Не будем забывать, сколь многое было бы не возможно без этой победы.

У любой ситуации, при условии что мы открыто взираем на происходящее и трезво оцениваем его, есть положительный аспект и отрицательный. И у нас всегда есть выбор, на каком из аспектов основывать свою оценку событий. В организации и проведении любой войны всегда будет немало просчетов, ошибок: в конце концов, все войны и миры совершаются людьми. В истории Второй мировой войны и Великой Отечественной войны для меня превалирует положительный аспект. Достаточно задуматься, во сколько раз больше было бы жертв геноцида и Холокоста, если бы не бесстрашный натиск советского народа.

С Днем Победы, друзья!

Victory Day 65th Anniversary - 1

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Fri, 07 May 2010 20:50:00 +0000

65 years ago, in 1945, the Second World War had ended. In Russia and former Soviet republics 9th of May is the national holiday which is always marked by a pompous and majestic parade. As I was growing up in 1980s, I remember there were a few parades during the year, but the one on the Victory Day has always been the most solemn occasion.

Over the weekend I will share with you the photos my father sent me from the general rehearsal of the anniversary parade. As this is the 65th year of the Victory over fascism, the troops from the former allies flew to Moscow to take part. In the photo below you can see British soldiers marching in the Red Square.

Qype: Police and Fire Station in Manchester

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Thu, 06 May 2010 21:40:00 +0000

Manchester

I am always amazed by the grandeur of civic architecture of the 19th c. Take this lovely vast terracota building on the corner of London Road. It occupies a triangular space circumscribed by adjacent streets and used to house, believe it or not, the Police and Fire Station. The building was erected between 1904 and 1906, and you can spot some fine architectural and decorative details throughout the facade. It was described as the finest fire station in the world, with which epithet one can hardly disagree.

Check out my review of Police and Fire Station - I am juliedelvaux - on Qype

Qype: Alan Turing Monument in Manchester

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Thu, 06 May 2010 19:30:00 +0000

Manchester

The seated statue of the father-founder of computer science can be found in the middle of Sackville Gardens. The pensive professor gazes at the flowerbed in front on him, holding an apple. There seems to be little special in how Turing is represented: an almost typical genius, humble and lost in thought. The apple is thus the most peculiar part of the monument. It refers to Isaac Newton, the father of modern math and physics. It is also the symbol of forbidden love, and Turing's statue is well placed by Canal Street. Indeed, Turing was gay, and it was his sexuality that reportedly led the Government to doubt his integrity in keeping the state secrets intact. Turing committed suicide by injecting an apple with cianide - another reason why he is depicted holding the fruit. It is amazing to contemplate the role an object (an apple on this occasion) can play in one's life.

Check out my review of Alan Turing Monument - I am juliedelvaux - on Qype

Qype: Cafe Muse in Manchester

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Thu, 06 May 2010 19:21:00 +0000

Manchester - Eating & Drinking - Cafes & Coffee Shops

Although a part of Manchester Museum, Cafe Muse is open to everyone who ventured that far into Oxford Road. Don't be misled by the rotund portico with columns: a cool, fresh, and rather minimalist interior awaits inside. I didn't notice anything particularly funky on the menu, but my salmon with scrambled egg was well cooked. I guess it may be visited by students and professors more often now that the old refectory, next to Students' Union, has gone.

Check out my review of Cafe Muse - I am juliedelvaux - on Qype

Qype: Bury Art Gallery, Museum and Archives in Bury

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Mon, 03 May 2010 18:18:00 +0000

Bury

I know that for many people Bury sounds anything but exciting. If you live in a big city there is always a danger to start believing that all truly great things are located, planted, and happening in your vicinity. Bury is being scorned so often, it is almost hard to imagine that it is also inhabited by people.

If you read this and feel for Bury, then you will be pleased to know that there is a lovely art gallery there. Admittedly, it is small. It is located in a quiet street, in an 18th c. building, and when you enter it you will be impressed by the staircase. Once you are on the staircase, however, you should be even more impressed by one of the 19th c. representations of Dante's story of Paolo and Francesca; the painting hangs just above the stairs. Venture further into the collection, and you will find one of Turner's seascapes, a selection of works by local painters, as well as a massive Chinese chimney. How good is that for a local art gallery that lies forgotten somewhere in the north of Greater Manchester?

Bury Art Gallery has strong links with the MET, and 2009 has seen the gallery hosting exhibitions by contemporary artists who work to fuse words and images, as part of Text Festival. So, if you are wondering about what to do this coming weekend, take a tram to Bury and see the art gallery for yourself. You will love it.

Check out my review of Bury Art Gallery, Museum and Archives - I am juliedelvaux - on Qype

Qype: St Philip's Church in Salford

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Mon, 03 May 2010 18:05:00 +0000

Salford

The church dedicated to St Philip was erected in this spot in 1825. The architect was Sir Robert Smirke who went on to design the Bank of England and the British Museum.

The church's purpose was not limited to the spread of gospel. It was one of the so-called "Waterloo churches" intended to prevent the dissemination of the dangerous ideas of the French Revolution. Bizarrely, it was consecrated on St Matthew Day, and it didn't go without a few hiccups.

One notices the imposing design of the church, and it is a particularly fine site, if seen from Chapel St. The commissioners wanted Smirke to place the grand porch and circular tower in the south end of the church, rather than the western end. In his turn, Smirke wanted his church in classical style. All in all, this is one of the most original buildings in Greater Manchester, and apparently boasts a copy on Leonardo's Last Supper.

Check out my review of St Philip's Church - I am juliedelvaux - on Qype

Qype: Queen Victoria Memorial in Manchester

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Sun, 02 May 2010 18:11:00 +0000

Manchester

The Queen sat in person for this statue and was delighted with the result. Unfortunately, she died before the statue was unveiled in 1901. Onslow Ford presented the monarch in stately robes, with orb and sceptre, which made some critics decry the monument as too formal and stiff.

The monument has two sides. The shape reminds one of the throne, and the Queen Vic presides over the entrance to Newton St from Piccadilly. Those of who walk or sit in Piccadilly Gardens will, however, see the other side of the monument, very romantic and intimate. There is a female figure holding a child, and someone diligent can recognise a quote from Shakespeare: "Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares". A fine depiction of the status of a mother figure the Queen Victoria had had with her subjects throughout her lengthy reign.

Atop of the throne is a small group with St George and dragon.

Check out my review of Queen Victoria Memorial - I am juliedelvaux - on Qype

Qype: The Duke of Wellington Memorial in Manchester

julie.delvaux@gmail.com (Julie Delvaux) — Sun, 02 May 2010 17:52:00 +0000

Manchester

The statue of the victorious hero of Waterloo has been standing in approximately the same place (near the corner of Portland St) since 1856. These days it can be found just outside Kro Piccadilly. This is an impressive standard of consistency, and one can only wonder if this is a reflection of the status the Grand Duke had as a man-of-arms and a statesman.

The statue by Matthew Noble is sumptuously decorated. The Duke is surrounded by the figures of antique deities personifying Wisdom, Valour, Victory, and Peace. The pedestal plates depict the pivotal moments in Duke's career: the Battle of Assaye, the victory of Waterloo, the Duke's receiving the thanks at the House of Commons in 1914, and the mediating the peace resolution at the Congress of Vienna in 1815.

Check out my review of The Duke of Wellington Memorial - I am juliedelvaux - on Qype

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