And more divine song again!

I have been blessed with being invited to yet  another heavenly performance: Yesterday it was the first time  that The Royal Opera House opened its doors again since March, allowing first and second year students of  their Jette Parker Young Artists Programme to perform French, Italian and Russian songs - Liszt Poulenc, Strauss, Rachmaninov and Tchaikovsky ...

Dear David took me and we had the best seats in the Linbury Theatre downstairs at the ROH- but then David is of course a Music Critic Extraordinaire and here is his revue: 

https://www.theartsdesk.com/opera/meet-young-artists-week-recital-linbury-theatre-%E2%80%93-four-big-personalities

I was childishly thrilled and proud to see that he took one of my suggestions on board-I am not an opera aficionado and normally don't have anything interesting to contribute-I am just happy to tag along... but this time  I thought the  Russian mezzo/contralto Kseniia Nikolaieva (above) was full of drama and had the look and sound of Azucena  in Il Trovatore and said so to David. And  he wrote in his revue:  "Hers is a big voice unleashed with enough power to tell us that with careful handling she will undoubtedly go where her compatriots Olga Borodina and Ekaterina Semenchuk have already trod, in roles with very specific voice-type requirements like Verdi’s Azucena in Il trovatore." (!!!)

                                

And meanwhile, back in Mali, another sort of song takes place as Maouloud has once more been celebrated. The festival commemorating the birth of the Prophet Mohammed  is the most important of all in  Djenne and I was often invited to the Fatias, or the Koran recitations held by the great Djenne families which I knew through the Manuscript Library. Sometimes the melodious chanting would carry on all night and  would hear it drifting across from the many Koran schools in town as I lay under the mosquito net in the warm night...

The Last and the First...

...visit to the English National Opera at London's Coliseum- that is to say: on the 14th of March I went to see the 'Mariage of Figaro' there with a happy little group of friends. We did not know that that was the very last evening such things were possible. It was the very last normal day in London before everything locked down.

And on this Saturday, the 24th of October the Coliseum opened its doors once more, and I was there again with my old Swedish friend Pia  for this first performance - 'socially distanced'  of course with only about one third of the seats available and filled. And once more it was Mozart- a performance  from  Opera students singing a selection of famous arias - the love duets at a safe distance...Nevermind that. The grateful audience was  loving being there again. The enthusiasm was infectious and the bravo's, clapping and whistling made it all sound like La Scala Milan.  

God knows we all want some reason to clap and cheer now as the light is fading and the temperature is sinking while the Covid count is rising and Pandemic fatigue is settling down on London.

But life carries on regardless in it inexorable way and the habits that have taken hold in during these strange months continue- such as my Chess Sundays with my friend Ralf from the German embassy- he kindly lets me practice my German on him, but he is less kind when it comes to the chess and does not let me win very often. Here is last Sunday's game, black to move. I am white and I have got him on the ropes for once- to be continued next Sunday.

And the walks continue- now the winter clothes have once more made their appearance as the year is turning towards its close. We started walking in March and we still continue to walk. I wonder how many hundreds of miles up and down and around the streets and Parks of London...?

Dreams and plans of moving to warmer climes or to the country still figure but nothing is decided yet- I have put my flat on the market but I am beset by feelings of uncertainty and a the future is just a huge question mark. Nevermind. I guess it will be OK. Or will it?
 

Good News, Duncan, and Little Venice.

First of all, we have probably all heard the very good news from Mali, where finally Soumi (Soumaila Cisse, three time Presidential Candidate) has been released from captivity where he has languished since last March, when he was kidnapped by Jihadists in the region of Nianfounke. At the same time Sophie Petronin, a French aid worker kidnapped in Gao in 2016 was also released. This was accomplished by the new interim government, showing some muscle. It did cost them in the region of 100 Jihadi prisoners in the exchange however... these have now been let lose in the North once more, and can be expected to cause further mayhem...

Other good Mali news includes the lifting of sanctions against Mali by the neighbouring ECOWAS countries who have recognized the fact that the Junta leaders have conformed to demands:  there is now a civilian interim  president, Bah Ndaw, while the coup leader Assimi Goita has contented himself with a second position as the vice-president. In addition, the transition will take 18 months rather than the 3 years first proposed.

And moving on to Europe and other matters altogether, I was most intrigued to read in the Guardian yesterday morning that a large treasure of homo-erotic drawings by Duncan Grant have been handed over  to the  Charleston Trust. These drawings were supposedly kept under a bed for decades, out of view because of their 'private nature'. The picture below illustrates one of the drawings shown in the Guardian. There was also another, which involved four men- it was more explicit in that it showed erections.  It was quite a beautiful drawing in its composition, but it was very  difficult and intriguing to try and understand what was going on...

And this morning I read the same story in Svenska Dagbladet, which is my Swedish daily. I giggled a little, and was surprised that they had decided, coyly, to represent the drawings only by  a picture of three pillows! Presumably illustrating the fact that they were supposed to have been hidden under a bed... I mean, when I looked into it I found that even the Daily Mail had been able to show something of the drawings- albeit the top part of the men only...

 Now I decided to check back to what had been in the Guardian yesterday, and found, to my chagrin, that the athletic and intriguing orgy had been removed. So even the Guardian had been the victim of some censorship it appears...

I have always loved Duncan Grant's work  and I am the lucky owner of this  small drawing below. 

And meanwhile autumn is painting its warmth in the brilliance of the trees while the temperature is sinking elsewhere and  blue skies are infrequent...

I keep walking, and walking....

 

A Scam

 This self isolation is having an effect. I am beginning to have feelings quite rare to me. For instance, I am wondering whether life would be worth living if one is totally on one's own? The answer I come up with is a resounding NO. 

The interesting thing is that  when one feels really alone one often doesn't have the wish to contact anyone either- it is as if the batteries of life have run too low and there is not enough 'juice' left to ring anyone. 

And I don't really sleep very well- therefore I finally fell asleep about four o'clock this morning. At nine o'clock I was awoken by a phone call. A man with a strong Asian accent which made it quite difficult to understand him told me that he was calling on behalf of the HMRC Tax Office. He was seemingly calling from a call centre because there was a lot of noise in the back ground. He said that I had been under a random investigation by the HMRC during the last few months and that my tax contributions had been found to be fraudulent. He continued by saying that the phone call was directly connected to the police who were listening in. 

Maybe I should have  realized immediately that it was a scam and  just put the phone down, but it was somehow convincing for a little while- maybe because I had just woken up and not yet gathered my wits about me.  He proceeded to list the 4 charges levelled against me: 

1. Count 1: "Violation of HMRC code"

2. Count 2: "Violation of Her Majesty's Gov. Regulations"

3. "Tapped by Decaption"-( It was virtually impossible to hear what he was saying so I might have got this wrong.)

4. " Wilful Misrepresentation to Government Organization".

The government was giving me a chance to get out of this if I cooperated.  I owed  them  £1280. I objected and said I did not believe that the HMRC would use these kind of  tactics and that normally they would send me a letter notifying me that there was a problem and explaining how I could resolve it. He said that procedures had been sharpened and changed because of the Corona Virus crisis and these were extreme measure that were now necessary. ( He made this sound convincing somehow.) If I did not comply the government would freeze my bank account, I would have my passport confiscated and I would "have a black flag against my name". 

All of this was by now beginning to sound increasingly fishy, as I was regaining full consciousness. 

" So you mean that I have to pay you £1280 right now, without even understanding the charges levelled against me?" He replied that it was not about the money, but he was offering me a chance to escape being black listed and even arrested. I said " I don't believe you". He replied" the police is listening in and an officer will be arriving at your address within 45 minutes to arrest you". I said "Fine, let him do that" and put the phone down. Then I phoned the police. They told me it was a very common scam, and that it had been going for years. It had been particularly successful recently, as people believed that the Covid 19 had really somehow altered the normal procedures.

That is probably the most exciting thing that will happen today. At least I sincerely hope so.

Tomorrow I can start living a normal life again, maybe for a few days? Until they close us all down again. 

I will just have sustain myself by thinking  of happier days- here just two weeks ago in the hills of Bamako with Swedish Eira and Jakarta, Karen's dog.

God Bless P.J. Harvey

Sitting here in my self isolation. Being a good girl. Well, not QUITE. I do go for walks but don’t talk to anyone. Not even on park benches.

But there is no doubt that now, on the 6^th day of quarantine it is getting to me.

So, thank God for PJ Harvey! I had forgotten about real music- the sort of music that makes one feel alive, capable of jumping over little houses and Wild at Heart. As if there is still Life to be lived. And that it up to me to go and Get It.

So All Hail Polly Jane!

"Meet Ze Monsta! "

“This is Love This is Love This is Love that I’m Feelin..!”

 

Farewell to General Moussa Traore

 

 

General Moussa Traoré  who ruled Mali  for more than 22 years died in Bamako yesterday at the age of 83. I have a picture of him on my wall in London.  This causes some raised eyebrows, since he was a dictator who ousted the first Malian president Modibo Keita in a coup in 1968. He was himself removed by a coup masterminded by Amadou ToumaniToure  in 1991. (The latter was of course also eventually removed by a coup in 2012...and so it goes on.)

Now, there are dictators and dictators. Let's be clear: Moussa was no Idi Amin. Many in Mali feel that the time during Moussa was  a stable time and  that the country has not improved since. A golden shimmer has gradually settled upon Moussa over time, helped along by gentle forgetfulness and the Malian people's ability to forgive almost anything. 

My Keita's father, Colonel Abdoulaye Keita was a personal friend of Moussa's and when Keita was a baby he bounced on Moussa's lap. That is the explanation for his picture on my wall, which I appropriated from Keita's wall after his death and therefore my soft feelings towards Moussa, dictator or not...

Alpha Oumar Konare, the civilian president who followed Moussa, pardoned him and had his death sentence removed.   Since 2002 Moussa was  able to  live in peaceful, genteel retirement, enjoying a status as an elder statesman, being visited by politicians and elite military including Colonel Assimi Goita, the leader of  the current  junta who sought his advice only a few days ago to outline a transition to civilian rule. 

RIP Moussa Traore.

 

It feels like a privilege to be here at this important moment for Mali. As always I wanted to see Dr. Guida Landoure, an intimate friend of my Keita's and an eminent neurologist.  He is right in the thick of things- in fact is is part of the M5-RFP, the coalition of various civilians and opposition politicians who orchestrated the uprisings this summer which culminated in the coup d'etat.

 Guida came to see me at Hotel Badala last night, straight from a meeting with some high powered other members of the group:  Cheick Oumar Sissoko, the film maker and former Minister of Culture is one of them. I was excited to hear that because I sat next to him for a dinner once at the Danish Ambassador's place (yes, yes, I know I am name dropping..)and he was a delight. I found out that he had never seen Babette's Feast, and I told him that it was a catastrophy for a celebrated film maker like him never to have seen it. The next time I went to Bamako I brought him the DVD which I delivered at the Malian film institute. But I digress... According to Guida the Western diplomats are wary of Sissoko who they think is too left wing. But Guida and some are proposing him for interim president.

 Guida told me that Dicko, the powerful cleric with Wahabist leanings who was instrumental in organising the uprisings and who has made out that his job is now  done and that he is  withdrawing is not telling the truth- he is still highly active in and around  M5-RFP. Now this might be a worrying thing- it would of course be best to keep religion out of it as much as possible.... But Guida is not worried about Dicko. Guida is very upbeat about it all and  still thinks it is possible to carve out a better Mali from the present  situation, although they are experiencing some trouble with the junta, whose recent 'roadmap' for the transition period was not acceptable to them because it stated that the president during the transition period could be either a civilian or from the military, although in earlier consultations it had been decided that the interim president must be a civilian. This U-turn made the group announce that

"M5-RFP distances itself from the ... document which does not reflect the views and decisions of the Malian people". 

So, let's see...the embargo continues and the neighboring ECOWAS (Economic Community of West African State) has given the ruling junta one week to chose an interim government.

And otherwise... my morning hikes with Karen continues in the green hills of Bamako!

Life goes on...

 

Life goes on in Mali for most of its people as if there hadn’t been any coup d’etat. And I suppose for most people it won’t make any difference. For the poor- by far the greatest part of the population- who struggle to put enough food on the table for their families every day life exists from day to day and nothing changes, only the clemency or the severity of the seasons. Above is one of the many enterprising market gardeners who attempt to make a living on the side of the road in Bamako.

 The Djennenke  (the population of Djenne) are suffering the severity of a particularly abundant rainy season just now. There has been unprecedented rainfall and many houses have fallen. However much I sympathize with the Djennenke in their plight, I can’t help feeling selfishly relieved that I am no longer in charge of a mud hotel… The rainy season was always a nightmare, because in happier times the beginning of the rainy season used to coincide with the ‘Spanish Season’, when southern Europeans tend to take their holidays. My guests would be slipping and sliding on the forecourt of Hotel Djenne Djenno trying – often unsuccessfully-to reach their rooms or the bar without falling over in the slurry descending from my mud walls which were disintegrating in the onslaught of the Mali tempests. 

                                                                                   

The picture above  illustrates quite graphically what happens on mud walls if they are not cared for- the Museum is falling apart. It was one of those gifts from Western coffers- the EU. Noone here actually wanted a Museum I believe. It is a very European idea. The locals said 'yes, thanks, sure we want a Museum if that is what you want to do.' It has been there for about ten years now. There has never been any exhibitions there and it is virtually unused. It is now a problem because it is huge and it needs to be looked after with a yearly mud plastering but since no one is really interested in a Museum it will now stand there and disintegrate. The gate below is the entrance to the area which houses the Campement hotel and the Mairie. This is falling apart because since the disappearance of the tourists all the impetus has gone out of maintaining any of the beauty of Djenne’s  architecture. 

                                                                          

  

More or less all the communal buildings are neglected - this the Post Office in a sorry state of repair:

                                                                               

The Mosque and the Library are the only ones that are receiving that all important  yearly mud plastering.                                                       

The problem about the rainy season here is that no one goes out. I am sitting here alone in my ‘suite’ at the venerable Campement Hotel. I have had my dinner, brought to me by Papa, my old chef at Hotel Djenne Djenno who knows what I like to eat- this evening he brought the  coleslaw I taught him to make with some grilled chicken and tomorrow he will bring me ‘GadoGado’ a Dutch Indonesian inspired dish that my  Dutch friend Birgit taught him to prepare. It is lovely to be able to see ‘my’ old staff. I am not about to go slipping and sliding around town so this will be an unusually ‘stay in’ visit to Djenne.

The local people I speak to are mostly the people I work with at the library or old friends of Keita’s. They are nearly all in favour of the coup d’etat and  the removal of IBK, even the members of his own party. Tomorrow I will try and venture down the slippery alley where my old friend Yelpha the Imam lives to see what he thinks about it all…