A very happy and blessed Christmas to you all.

Well what a delight, Sue at Discombobula has been kind enough to pass on to me the I Love Your Blog award! I’m very grateful and am in pretty august company.

The idea is to list ten things that you love, and pass on the award. Check out Sue’s post here where she lists her ten things. (Pay no attention to the undeservedly nasty things she says about lapsong souchong tea though…)

I’m going to bend the rules here in a couple of ways. First of all I’m not going to pass this on to any specific blogs. I don’t want to leave anyone out. If you want to play, please do.

Second, there are so many more than ten things I love that I’m going to narrow my focus and give you my ten favourite movies of all time. They are in alphabetical order because I would find it impossible to put them in order of preference. And I’m cheating by including a couple of duos and a trilogy as single choices.

So here my top ten movies:

Baghdad Café

Directed by Percy Adlon, this 1987 film is a magical exploration of life and possibility, starring Marianne Sägebrecht as a lonely German tourist in the U.S. who turns up at a run-down desert motel after a row with her horrible husband. She befriends motel-owner CCH Pounder, becoming the catalyst for all sort of change in the process. The late, very great and hugely under-rated Jack Palance provides superb support.

Casablanca

What’s left to say about Michael Curtiz’s 1940s classic romance? Every time I see it I’m almost shocked by just how extraordinarily beautiful Ingrid Berman was. The film was just one of many scheduled to roll off the studio production line at Warner Brothers that year, no-one realised one of the all-time greats was in the making. For me, one of the best scenes was the French patrons at Rick’s café drowning out the Germans by singing The Marseillaise. There’s a clip of it here.

Chocolat

One of the most enchanting films of all time, and for me at least, one of the few which is actually better than the book it was based on.

Lasse Halstrom’s film has a cast to die for, led by Juliette Binoche and Johnny Depp, supported by Lena Olin (Halstrom’s wife), Alfred Molina, Judi Dench and Carrie-Anne Moss. You know it’s a strong cast when the lesser characters are played by people like John Wood, Leslie Caron and Peter Stomare! I found this video compilation above based on the party scene towards the end.

Godfather I and II

These films are also far better than the book. Coppola’s direction, Willis’s cinematography and indeed Puzo’s screenplay based on his own novel take this film into a whole other realm. As an illustration of how an emphasis on the importance of family and community can sit side-by-side with extreme violence, I think it’s unrivalled. (Although Road to Perdition comes close.) And I’m not at all sure whether Brando, Pacino or de Niro have ever matched their performances in these two films. It’s just a pity that the third part of the trilogy was so bad.

Kill Bill I and II

I’m a big fan of Quentin Tarantino’s imagination, quirkiness and grandiose vision. He’s a kind of demented Hitchcock. I could almost have chosen any of his films for my top ten, but I find myself coming back to Kill Bill more than to any of the others, partly because I’m a fan of David Carradine, partly because all the characterisations are so completely over the top and the visual styling is superb. A ripping yarn indeed!

Lord of the Rings Trilogy

I’ve only ever stayed up to watch the Oscars live once, and that was in 2003, when the third film in Peter Jackson’s trilogy, Lord of the Rings Return of the King, swept the board and won all eleven Oscars for which it was nominated. I jumped up and cheered when it won Best Picture.

LOTR is one of my all-time favourite books, and in some ways the films couldn’t possibly live up to them. The first film in particular is rather flawed: not all the special effects work that well, Ian McKellan’s performance is a bit over the top and Orlando Bloom’s rather wooden. But taken as a whole, this trilogy is an absolutely amazing accomplishment. A tip? Try and get hold of the director’s cut special edition DVDs with extended footage. They are much better than the original films and have all kinds of fascinating features on how various effects were achieved.

The Matrix

I love Sci-Fi at the best of times, and this film blew me away when I first saw it. Why? Because the world of the Matrix, in which our conscious lives are imaginary and are regulated by an unseen intelligence, is exactly how I was convinced things were as a child. Perhaps they are. This film is an amazing feat of imagination by the Wachowski brothers, brilliantly plotted and portrayed. So, will you take the red pill or the blue pill?

Shawshank Redemption

I put off watching this film for years because I didn’t see how something set in a prison could be uplifting. Of course now I know better, and although prisons are grim, hope flutters around the corner somewhere, and we have so many examples over the ages of people who have been catalysts for change in prisons, like Tim Robbins’ character here amidst the brutality. Many of you will be familiar with this iconic scene from the film, when beauty comes unexpectedly to the men at Shawshank.

Singin’ in the Rain

Funny, uplifting, superb dancing, wonderful slapstick, catchy tunes, interesting snippets of cinema history: what more could you want?

Trois Coleurs: Bleu

And finally, because life is sometimes almost more than we can bear, the first of Kieslowski’s Three Colours trilogy, with Juliette Binoche’s searing exploration of bereavement and the rebirth of possibility.

So thanks again for the award, Sue, and please play along with ten favourite things if you want to.

To end on a high note, if this doesn’t get your feet tapping, nothing will:

What better way to welcome Midsummer Day than with music? I’m responding to Magpie Girl’s 8 Things invitation in which she asks:

What eight songs connect you to the Divine? Songs that aren’t classically “religious” or “church music” but create a harmonic bridge to all things holy. Songs that soothe the soul. Songs that encourage and shore you up. Songs that connect you to something bigger and beyond, or more deeply and truly to the here/now. What songs are just Good Medicine?

I’m so lucky to be the age I am. I turned 16 in 1969. The year I saw The Stones play their massive free concert in Hyde Park just days after Brian Jones died. The year of Woodstock (no, that one I didn’t make!).

I’m so lucky to have been brought up on the great rock acts of the ’60s. Those of you young chickies out there who never had the chance, as I did, to see Pink Floyd when Syd Barrett was still a member of the band, The Who at the peak of their powers, Joe Cocker riding the wave of his first success, Cream playing one of their last gigs, with Ginger Baker’s legendary 20-minute drum solos eclipsing even Clapton’s guitar… well you really don’t know what you missed!

The best? Jimi Hendrix at the Roundhouse in 1968. I’ll never forget it.

So I’m starting my selection with Joni Mitchell singing her own composition, Woodstock. There’s something about this song that takes me right back to the hopefulness and brightness of those times, and reminds me that we really are, all of us, stardust.

We’ll stay in 1969 for the extraordinary Janis Joplin singing Little Girl Blue. This is definitely in the “shore you up” category. No matter how bad it gets, you can get through it.

(Yes indeed, wasn’t Tom Jones YOUNG!?)

There’s one very simple, short and slightly whimsical song that I loved when it was first released. I think it has even more depth now. Here’s Yusuf Islam singing The Wind:

The beautiful Bob Marley offers us all Redemption:

Slightly more recent stuff now, with Green Day who (together with Foo Fighters) are my favourite contemporary rock band. Their 1997 album Nimrod gave us the song Good Riddance (Time of Your Life). Its beautiful, strange lyrics make me think about what my life is and could be:

So take the photographs
And still frames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf of
Good health and good time
Tattoos of memories
And dead skin on trial
For what it’s worth
It was worth all the while

It’s something unpredictable
But in the end is right
I hope you had the time of your life

I was at their amazing Bullet in a Bible concert at the UK Bowl three or four years ago, where they ended with a storming, unforgettable version of Good Riddance, but I can’t find it on YouTube, so here’s another:

And of course there has to be a Leonard Cohen song in this list. Such richness of choice. In the end I’ve gone for If It Be Your Will.

If it be your will
That a voice be true
From this broken hill
I will sing to you
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it will be your will
To let me sing

There are two versions of this I love. One is by the wonderful Antony Hegarty, which you can find here. The second is this one from Cohen’s current concert tour, with the sublime Webb Sisters.

The only song here that I knew from the start would have to make the final cut (I had a long-list of nearly 50 songs…) is George Harrison’s Here Comes the Sun.

I was at a party years ago. I felt desperately sad and alone. I thought my life was barren. Then someone put this song on to play and I realised what I was experiencing was true then, but it was not the only truth. It made me feel less desolate.

Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been clear
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it’s all right
It’s all right

Harrison’s own version is great, and I’ve always thought the song suits perfectly Nina Simone’s voice. Here’s a more recent version, a tender collaboration between Yo-Yo Ma and James Taylor:

And finally a jubilant version of an old song I found just yesterday at Towanda’s Window. I’ve already sworn eternal gratitude to Towanda for introducing me to Patty Griffin, and now I’m so glad to know the story of Playing For Change, with street musicians from around the world.  I love the introduction to this Ben E King classic:

No matter who you are, no matter where you go in your life, at some point you’re gonna need somebody to stand by you…

Happy Solstice everyone. What are your Eight Songs?

It’s easy for the year to slip by without us noticing. With our electricity and air conditioning, with fresh food shipped from around the world, we’re less aware of the changing seasons.

But the Wheel of the Year still turns, with or without us, and today is May Day, when in the Northern hemisphere we welcome the first days of summer into our lives. Traditionally this was the Celtic feast of Beltane, when the gods were reputed to be in prankster mood. Dedicated to the fire god Bel, this day was a celebration of fertility. On May Eve, fires were lit to Bel, over which young people would jump. There was drinking and feasting. Unions made and babies conceived on this night were believed to be especially blessed.

On May Day itself across medieval Europe, blossoming branches were carried into the house to ‘bring in the May’ and symbolise the fertility of nature with hopes of a rich harvest to come.

Beltane is still an important and joyful festival for modern pagans and witches, with a lot of handfastings (weddings) taking place on 1st May. But generally, most of the old customs have been diluted. In some British towns and villages we still see vestiges, with Morris dancing, the occasional May Queen and dancing round the maypole. But it all seems a bit tame and touristy.

When Christianity swept through Europe, the old folk customs were put down or converted to Christian holy days. And of course Christian holy days are important. But I wish we had more of the joy and earthiness of our earlier heritage. I often think that people looking in on Christianity from the outside must think us a po-faced, rigid lot, with great emphasis on our minds and our souls, but a repudiation of the sacredness of our bodies.

And of course that’s part of the reason the Christian church has taken until now to start waking up to the environmental damage it has condoned. Historically the church has not liked the idea that our Mother the Earth should be revered, She might be too much competition for that rumbly Old Testatment God:

…let them rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air, over the livestock, over all the earth…

Genesis 26

Today I’m going to spend some time in my garden, meditating, touching the soil, listening to the birds and smelling the new green growth. I’m going to give thanks for the health and strength of my body, and then I’m going to bring a branch of blossoms into my home to mark May Day. And I shall be dancing – see below. What about you?

Image above by aprillynn77

Elsewhere:

Jamie at Starshyne Productions has decreed today “Shyne Like a Star Virtual Dance Party“. Join in by dancing for 15 minutes. On your own, with someone else, out of doors if you dare, or the kitchen is fine. I’m in, how about you?

What to dance to? I defy you to sit still when you listen to the driving pipes, fiddles and drums of Loreena McKennitt’s Beltane Fire Dance. Just imagine yourself dancing in a flowered meadow at dusk and jumping Bel’s fire. Go for it:

Yesterday I had the huge pleasure of watching Leonard Cohen in concert for the second time this year.

Sitting here now coming down from the high – of the man, his music and his musicians – several impressions are jumbled around in my head.

The beauty of his voice and his re-interpretation of his own poetry. The early songs, especially Bird on a Wire, sounded freshly minted, as if I’d never really heard the words before:

Like a baby, stillborn,
like a beast with his horn
I have torn everyone who reached out for me.
But I swear by this song
and by all that I have done wrong
I will make it all up to thee.

But perhaps that makes it all sound too solemn. The guy is a showman: funny, tender, sharp and ironic. The boulevardier giving us a mocking version of I’m Your Man has a light touch in repartee. There was fun and energy: for his (well-planned) encores he skipped on and off the stage like a six-year-old. The programme notes describe him as “…this godfather and grandfather – a mystic in a gangster’s hat…” and they’re not wrong.

You know what my overriding impression was? That going to church should be like this!

The Cohen concert was sacred territory. He took us from laughter to tears and back again; he used sexual, political and biblical imagery in ways that seemed new and fresh. Cohen the Jew, the Buddhist, the poet, musician, lover and monk spoke intimately and individually to audiences of thousands.

I can scarcely pick out all the highlights, but you know me, I’m going to try!

The song Anthem, with its haunting refrain:

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.

His subterranean voice without music reading his poem Thousand Kisses Deep, in a silence that defied the dropping of even the tiniest pin:

I loved you when you opened
Like a lily to the heat
I’m just another snowman
Standing in the rain and sleet
Who loved you with his frozen love
His second-hand physique
With all he is and all he was
A thousand kisses deep

The upbeat Democracy, whose refrain “Democracy is coming to the U.S.A”  took on a whole new post-November meaning which brought screams of delight from the crowd:

Sail on, sail on
O mighty Ship of State!
To the Shores of Need
Past the Reefs of Greed
Through the Squalls of Hate
Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on.

Or his complete and unassailable reclamation of perhaps his greatest song, as he roared and whispered his way through Hallelujah:

I did my best, it wasn’t much.
I couldn’t feel, so I learned to touch.
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you.
Yes even though it all went wrong
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my lips but Hallelujah.

He did his best and it was electrifying.

I’ve been trawling YouTube for snippets that might give you some idea of how special this sacred space was. The video below is not quite perfect as it ends too soon, but others I found were blurry. This contains the best rendition I can find of a quiet and reverent piece which is now staying with me more than anything else: Cohen speaking his poem/prayer If It Be Your Will, the words of which are then taken up and sung with simple beauty by two of his musicians, the Webb Sisters.

If it be your will
That I speak no more
And my voice be still
As it was before
I will speak no more
I shall abide until
I am spoken for
If it be your will

If it be your will
That a voice be true
From this broken hill
I will sing to you
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it will be your will
To let me sing