Alan Johnston: 100 days missing

Lebanon (bis repetita placent): peace and Sister Keyrouz

Sister Marie Keyrouz, a Lebanese-born Maronite Christian, is one of these all-round people who continually amaze: she holds a Ph.D. in Religious Anthropology as well as in Musicology from the Sorbonne University and she sings. Her repertoire is one at a crossroads between East and West, between Maronite, Byzantine or Aramean songs and Ambrosian or Gregorian ones; it also includes classical pieces of sacred music by composers such as Mozart, Bach or Gounod. Her musical strategy is to recycle rhythms and melodies, tempos and techniques that date back to the beginning of our era.
She founded the "Ensemble de la Paix" in 1984 during the civil war in Lebanon, a multicultural, multiconfessional orchestra that defies political, racial and political categories. She then went on to create "Enfance pour la Paix", a charity which aims at fighting ignorance and poverty, mothers of all evils in her opinion. All profits made from her concerts and CD's go towards it.
It was for a such fund-raising evening that she organised a Christmas concert at the UNESCO in Paris last December. A very emotional occasion indeed after the assassinations of high-profiles Lebanese political figures (in the Gemayel and Hariri dynasties) and the occupation and attack of South Lebanon by the Israeli Army.
Let us hope that an end can be put to this constant spiral of violence and attacks in the country: they must be stopped in order to avoid a complete collapse of Lebanon.
"Singing is praying twice", Sister Marie Keyrouz said...

Confessions

Amy Winehouse's latest album entitled "Back to black" is a very short one: 11 songs in about half an hour. This half-hour is extremely dense, on many levels: first in terms of music, since this young Jewish singer from North London captured the sound of Motown Records and worked in a short space of time with the likes of Marc Ronson (currently enjoying a clear public success with "Stop Me") to create a very soul yet contemporary feel and atmosphere. Trumpets and bass-guitar, as in "He Can Only Hold Her", convey a rich instrumental accompaniment and congratulate Amy's deep voice. Hers is particularly unique: effortless, adaptable, high- and low-pitched, it narrates and sings autobiographical confessions, about love (and its labour lost), addiction (the last song of the album) and alcohol. Alcohol which is still an issue in "Rehab" and today, since she has cancelled concerts at the Sheperd's Bush Empire, London and one at the Trabendo, Paris. One is drawn into very intimate lyrics: the mastership is such that this (only) second album smacks of a great professional experience. On another level, it is a tour de force, since it was recorded in a few weeks. Voice, music, instruments and engrossing lyrics concur to make a very personal album a shared public success.

Azul and Spanishness

Daniel Sanchez Arevalo's latest film Azul poses the issue of the definition of Spanishness. This director is hailed as the new Almodovar, who is known for his tormented heroes and heroines, shocking plots, transgender sexuality, pathos, virtuosity and sheer brilliance. These characteristics partially apply to Azul: a film in which the hero, Jorge, has to look after his invalid widower of a father after he had a heart attack the day when Jorge attempted to set fire to a bin outside the building where they live, refusing thereby to become what is father is and wants him to become: a porter. This fire sets the tone and starts the film: its ashes cover the rest of the story with their dark hue. It will be a leitmotiv for the turning points of the film, at two other moments. All in all, it is a film in three acts, like a short tragedy, or more exactly a tragicomedy, where pathos and bathos mingle, where tears jostle with laughter, where sudden revelations and decisions alter the life of a character for ever. This leads to the theme of Spanishness: this film is very Spanish. The characters are larger than life, outrageous, temperamental, unpredictable and their sexual drives are bared for all to see, watch and even photograph and hold againts one another... And out of this apparent cacophony of subplots, out of the disorder of the events, there remains a lasting anf final impression of unity, of beauty and tranquillity. Order restored, as clear as a blue sky, whose colour is that of the title.

Tate's Britain

Catherine Tate is a revolution on BBC 2 after "Little Britain", in terms of caustic comedy. Through the impersonation of a wide range of larger-than-life characters, all interpreted by herself (and all inspired from people around her), a new portrait of Britain has now been drawn. This chameleon-lady can in turn play (and transform into) a nightmarish secretary, a jack-of-all-trades (and master of none) assistant or a stereotypical middle-class mother. Above all, two creations will remain: the cantankerous Nan Taylor, whose banter and rudeness make her a shocking yet hilarious version of any British grandmother and, last but not least, the astonishingly annoying schoolgirl Lauren, paragon of the so-called "chav culture", whose phrase "Am I bovved" is now a cultural institution...