Friday, December 30, 2011

Norfolk in winter

Christmas in Norfolk. Inside: warmth, noise, plenty. Outside: nature back to its bare bones. The fields are empty, just a few birds wheeling overhead, the distinctive skeletons of different trees standing out against the grim sky. In churchyards, dark yew trees seem to bend protectively over the grave stones.
 
fields around Langley Grange
Langley Street at sunset

reed beds at Reedham ferry
Out on the marshes, it's a different kind of  simplicity. Just the water and the reeds for miles around. The only sounds are the rustling reeds and the water gently lapping at the bank. There are no trees for the wind to whistle through. When the sun comes out the light is gentle and golden, and the clouds skim lightly along.

Reedham ferry










But when the sky goes grey with a bank of thick low clouds, it's like a great lid has come down. The abandoned windmills loom reproachfully across the water at us. In the distance, smoke from the sugar beet factory chimney highlights the contrast between the two technologies.


Hadley marshes with the sugar beet factory at Cantley in the background
Water is everywhere: even at the beach there are marshy areas, standing water, low grasses reclaiming land that was once on top of the nearby cliffs.



There are no distractions here. Just the bare elements of Norfolk: sky, sun, water.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

The Red Army Choir sings Kalinka

 
 I love this Kalinka video: so happily absurd!

Growing up in New York in the 60s we had a record of the Red Army Ensemble that I listened to over and over. Aged 6 or 7 I loved the romanticism and sadness of the songs, and the feeling of power of those massed men's voices.

The video makes me laugh, it's so packed full of Russian cliches: the choir stands in a sun drenched clearing surrounded by silver birch trees. Ukeleles and an accordion player start quietly.  As the choir builds in volume, a wonderful tenor voice emerges suddenly, the massed ranks part and the handsome soloist walks forward into the centre of the circle. He walks up and down admired by all his comrades who pat him on the back, slap hands, smile, and chat in the background. It's set up to look like an informal picnic full of spontaneous fun. At the end six dancers surround him twirl around as the song comes to it climax.

It's all from another age of - if not innocence then at least unselfconsciousness. And it is a lovely song. Nearly 500,000 viewers can't be wrong.