Hamnavoe

We've just watched a half hour programme in the BBC's A Poet's Guide to Britain series, about George Mackay Brown. Not being a particular fan of the poet, I watched primarily for the pictures of Orkney (and there were some fine pictures, Rackwick Bay, and Stromness streets gleaming after rain, and one of the door of the house where the poet was born - "Hey, that's where we stayed with desperance!") - and found myself gradually warming to the poem Hamnavoe which was the heart of the programme. Some of the presentation was a little tricksy, but on the whole the programme had the rare virtues of working close to the text and trusting its material, and as a result actually did what it claimed to be trying for, it opened a door to the place and the poem.

Still available on iPlayer or repeat broadcasts.

A week of music and other diversions

A quick catch-up list, as much for my own benefit as because anyone else might be interested - starting where I left off, which was last Monday after a walk on the coast.

On Tuesday we were at the Sage to hear the Chris Stout Theory - Shetland / Brazilian fusion fiddle. Brilliant playing, charismatic enough to carry me through some of the more free-form passages - and I loved what Catriona McKay did with the harp.

Wednesday was the City of Durham Trust AGM; sometimes you have to do these things.

Thursday - I don't remember. Were we home on Thursday?

Friday we went to Darlington Railway Museum for an evening organised by Colpitts Poetry - some ten poets reading poems which were to a greater or lesser extent about trains. The e-mail invitation apparently said "Not Adlestrop!". Some good stuff: I liked Joanna Boulter's two poems, one about Chinese trains which remember that they are really dragons, one about being prevented by floods from travelling by train to the funeral of an aunt. But Andy Croft stole the evening with a set of poems about the Moscow underground (results of this collaborative project).

Saturday was Eurovision: we watched in the company of desperance and a number of people who don't have LJs, and were unanimously disappointed when the favourite won: how boring is that? Also, why was it the favourite? I preferred Armenia, myself, and Israel. Others present were very taken with Germany: the whole 50s approach, not to mention Ditta von Teese... After this desperance and I sat up late and drank and conversed, and had a Brilliant Idea which I'll tell you about another time.

Yesterday we went to two separate parties (one barbecue, one tea party) and then more music, Julie Fowlis this time: I think of Gaelic music as sad and wistful, but this was an extremely lively set (the tunes, at least - there's no knowing, of course, what the songs were about).

Which is why I decided to give the French café a miss this evening, and stay home...