A THOUSAND WORDS - Alex Waterhouse-Hayward's blog on pictures, plants, politics and whatever else is on his mind.




 

Meg Roe Laughs
Wednesday, October 29, 2014



 
Meg Roe



Last night, my Rosemary and I went to the Arts Club Theatre Company opening night presentation of George Bernard Shaw’s St. Joan, directed by Kim Collier. It was held at the Stanley Industrial Alliance Theatre. I went prepared for a sombre evening. Somehow it wasn't.

Often memory fails me. I see it as a red carpet behind me that is rolled up as the section in front is rolled out. I have little memory of the two St. Joan films I have seen in my distant past. One was the 1957 film St. Joan with Jean Seberg  directed by Otto Preminger with screenplay by Graham Greene, John Gilgud as the Earl of Warwick, Felix Aylmer as the Inquisitor and Richard Widmark (I wish I could remember that performance!) as the Dauphin, Charles VII. The other was director Victor Fleming’s 1948 Joan of Arc with Ingrid Bergman. Only the Preminger version was based on George Bernard Shaw’s 1924 play.  

In both of those films the two St. Joan protagonists had infamy/fame as accompany baggage which clouded for many the initial perception of the films. Of the latter film, the one with Ingrid Bergman, noted and now retired theatrical critic Christopher Dafoe (there he was (!), on opening night with his son Christopher, former arts critic for the Globe & Mail and now a busy lawyer) told me that in a recent viewing he thought it was more awful than before. On anything about the Arts Club/Kim Collier St. Joan he kept his cards close to his chest  which he accompanied with a delightful and most pleasant smile.

I could cite the excellent performances by Dean Paul Gibson as the Earl of Warwick, of Scott Bellis as the English leaning French cleric, Bishop Cauchon (Costume Designer Christine Reimer, plagued with her actors weating bad theatrical armour, designed a beautiful red bishop's outfit that was spectacular)
and Tom McBeath as the Enquisitor. I do.

I was particularly surprised that in the whole play nobody stood out as an out and out villain. It seemed that events simply happened in a sort of momentum of history. In his preface to the play GBS (he was that many years before John F. Kennedy was JFK) wrote:

There are no villains in the piece. Crime, like disease, is not interesting: it is something to be done away with by general consent, and that is all [there is] about it. It is what men do at their best, with good intentions, and what normal men and women find that they must and will do in spite of their intentions, that really concern us.

His best known biographer Michael Holroyd wrote:

St. Joan is a tragedy without villains and it is Shaw’s only tragedy.”

Interesting to me is the fact that while the Dauphin was crowned on 17 July, 1429, King of France (Charles VII) at Reims (thanks to Joan), on 16 December, 1429, Henry VI of England, was crowned King of France at Notre Dame in Paris. It also seems that Henry VI may have been present to some of the sittings of Joan’s trial.

Aside from all the fascinating stories behind Shaw’s play I managed to have a short chat with Christopher Gaze, Artistic Director of Bard on the Beach, who having been Shakespeare’s Henry V many times, happens to know more than a little about the Hundred Year’s War (It was Henry V who won at Agincourt before the advent of Joan when things began to sour for the les goddams English). He asked me about the play and I told him, “Your man and that second act were the best.” I did not have to explain that “his man” was Dean Paul Gibson. Gaze called the part of the second act (our mutual favourite) in which you have the Earl of Warwick (Gibson), Bishop Cauchon (Bellis) and Chaplain DeStogumber discussing Joan at a banquet table “the tent scene.” It is here where Shaw mentions subjects with linked together in importance in our 21st century, Christianity, “Mohammedanism”, Protestantism and nationalism. The second part of Act II is where things begin to go against Roe's Joan.

Since I am not a theatre critic I cannot begin to write opinions here that are beyond my basic expertise of clicking shutters. But since I am not a theatre critic I can venture into other areas without having to delve in that journalistic rule of when, where and how.

Sometime in the 80s I listened in my car to a recording of Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 2 (the one with that most impossible part for a clarino trumpet). I had to stop the car to see what was wrong with my tape deck. The concerto directed by Pablo Casals was much too fast. Nothing was wrong. It was just a startlingly new approach to the music by Casals. I soon got used to it. Now most other recordings or the many live performances have attended have all seemed agonizingly slow.

With the performance of Jean Seberg as Joan somewhere in my hidden neurons I was completely taken off guard by Meg Roe’s take on Joan in the first act. She laughed, she giggled and she did more laughing and more giggling. I was taken aback. Was this in Shaw’s script (perhaps in pencil, laugh, giggle, laugh)? Was this a crazed conspiracy between the one female actor Roe (there were two female singers in the play, Christine Quintana and Shannon Chan-Kent) and the female director Kim Collier?

I thought about this and immediately went back to the memory of the relationship that actress Molly Parker had with director Lynne Stopkewich in Kissed, 1996, and Suspicious River, 2000, films, intense films, that were made possible, I believe, only because of that special relationship that only two women can have as I wrote here?

Gaze told me that Collier instructed Dean Paul Gibson to speak with a marked English accent (I liked that!). Did Collier tell Roe to laugh and giggle?

After the shock of that first act reinforced by the several occasions in which Rowe (not a tall woman) stood next to Captain Robert de Baudricourt played by Bob Frazer, a tall man, which made the result one that almost made me giggle, I realized I was watching something akin to Casal’s Brandenburg. This was a performance that was going to grow on me with time. This was another Roe Whose Afraid of Virginia Woolfe? ,The Penelopiad , Toronto, Mississippi kind of performance.

By the third act Roe came back to familiar territory and was the actress I have been used to savouring. Roe was devastating as the suffering Joan about to be burned at the stake.

In the middle of the night after I had returned home it dawned on me that as a frequent theatre goer I can assert here that if there is any play in which Meg Roe is in the cast that is enough justification to go and see it. And one must trust, as I now trust, her judgment on how she will interpret her part. It comes from someone who exceeds the high standards that our city imposes on its actors.

There is a word for this in Spanish. We call such people fenómenos. I have used it to describe the dancing of Evelyn Hart. We have Evelyn Hart. We have Meg Roe. We are so lucky.   


Addendum: Sometimes my Rosemary has trouble hearing an actor who speaks away from where we might be sitting. The Stanley has had a problem here for us for some time. I am happy to report that she tried the special sound enhancing earphones, available (at the coat check), and that they were a success.   



David Pay's PEP Rally For New Music
Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Nicole Li - October 27 2014


Fortunately I do not believe in a local cultural conspiracy theory that would suggest that at any concert presentation of New Music, be it the Turning Point Ensemble or David Pay's ambitious and edgy Modulus Festival (from October 23 to 29) a would-be a cultural terrorist could be out terminate with extreme prejudice all the contemporary composers of our city. That would be easy since at these events many of those composers are present.

Our would-be cultural terrorist would be one who would have reverse views to Gavrilo Princip who in his assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria and his wife, Sophie, Duchess of Hohenberg, in Sarajevo on 28 June 1914, wanted to destroy the old order. Our would-be Vancouver cultural terrorist would be wanting to do the opposite which is to leave our music scene as it is or was recently. And that would be a music scene that would remain boring and tried.

Five of those composers (noted in the program of PEP or Piano and Erhu Project) with Corey Hamm on piano and Nicole Li on erhu were present last night. These were Edward Top, Jocelyn Morlock, Jared Miller, Dorothy Chang and Keith Hamel. Without looking too far I noticed two more, John Oliver and Owen Underhill.

A smart bomb consisting of a loud recording of any Tchaikovsky symphony with some extras like any song by Neil Diamond and a Vivaldi Four Seasons would, in one fell sweep, terminate our new music composers.

Last night I was not there to listen to predictable music. This would have been impossible to begin with as al five compositions on the program were world premieres. Pianist Cory Hamm and Erhudist (is that correct?) Nicole Li decided together a couple of years ago that our city was ripe for musical melding of cultures. Judging by this amateur's reaction last night to PEP, it was a felicitous success. I cannot wait for a possible composition my Mark Armanini for Erhu and Cello (Nicole Li and Marina Hasselberg). 

Listening to all five of the brand-new compositions I noted three things. The most “Chinese sounding”, an appraisal by this musical amateur was Edward Top’s Lamentation. Edward Top was the VSO’s Composer in Residence last year. This year’s VSO Composer in Residence, Jocelyn Morlock, was the least “Chinese sounding”. 'Her Vespertine - II Verdegris  was lyrical and after just a few seconds of listening to it, Li’s Erhu sounded very much like the bowed string instrument that it is.

Dorothy Chang’s Four Short Poems of Fancy were whimsical and funny at times. The fourth movement, green sheep tango, was indeed a tango to this Argentine. Keith Hamel’s Homage to Liu Wenjin (a recently departed Chinese composer) shifted between soft him to soft Hamel. It was satisfying, respectful and if you happened to have seen Hamel in the audience and noticed his soft smile you would have known why. He is a gentle man who plays the lute. I first met up with Hamel’s music here.

It was Jared Miller (born in 1988 which makes him three years younger than Nicole Li whose work, Captive, with lots of complex banging on the piano and bowing on the Erhu that made me sit up. I could have been listening to a meeting between Thelonius Monk and Eric Dolphy. It felt primal and like the other four pieces I can quote Liz Hamel (singer, recorder player and partner to Keith Hamel) “This was one concert that was much too short.” I could have stayed for more.

In my musical ignorance I can imagine Bach on a keyboard, plunking tentative notes while his wife notes them down. I can imagine Beethoven sitting at the piano composing a bagatelle and being flummoxed by having to imagine the sounds. In both cases the composers were experts in knowing the capabilities of the instruments being composed for.  There is no record of Adolphe Sax (he would have been 13 when Beethoven died) asking the master “Would you be willing to compose something for my new instrument?”

How did these five composers write the music for Hamm and Li? One answer was forthcoming and immediate from Morlock who told me that her Vespertine II Verdegris had been composed 11 years before for piano and harp. I can only guess that Hamm, Li and Morlock got together one day and adapted it. Of Top's "Chinese sounding" composition, she said, "He probably wanted to make it so."

It was Jared Miller’s piece that led me to think that the act of composition of anything for a brand new instrument (in this case the erhu, pronounced R-who, an instrument known in China for a millennium) must entail intimate knowledge of the instrument. I can imagine Miller showing up a Li’s house and saying, “Show me what you can do with that.”  I wonder if there are any places in Miller’s composition where Li might have needed to learn a new technique.

All in all the evening was one of big surprises in small packages in which the warm demeanor of Cory Hamm’s face while he played made me think that had he been the principal at a school I would not have been afraid to be sent to his office. It made the music, startling at times, much more reachable to me.

As for Nicole Li, a very different young girl from the one I photographed with cellist Marina Hasselberg for the Georgia Straight, I was amazed. In the photo session she was a younger girl (I could swear she was wearing pigtails even if she wasn’t). At the concert, long hair down, she was the Oriental femme fatale, an authentic one that would have been played in the 50s in Hollywood by Gene Tierney. Li was wearing a very tight long, black dress with a slit (a very long slit) on the left side. Her shoes were beautiful, just right, and her bright red lipstick was reminiscent of the Jazz, Red, Hot & Cool by Revlon  worn by model on Dave Brubeck Quartet Cover by Richard Avedon.

Nicole Li playing her erhu was grown up, determined and playing her instrument (difficult not to note here that she has lovely hands with long fingers) with an assurance of one who has been at it for a long time. I have always been amazed at the sound and complexity that can come out of that four-stringed instrument, the violin. It is thus amzing the Li's erhu has only two.



It was most pleasant to observe that in dressing up Li showed how important this debut was (including the release of a CD with two more to come) and that those New Music Composers and Corey Hamm himself (who did wear a suit) might have followed Li's elegant cue.   

What is new music?  

Addendum: As I stood with my ticket waiting to get into the concert hall of the Roundhouse I was hit by a nostalgic wave from my built-in GPS. I realized that on the very spot where I was standing, there were remnants of the tracks used by locomotives, in a not so distant past, as they were pushed to the outside where they were turned around as their bottom innards were inspected for repairs. It was in that spot where in the late 80s I was dispatched by Canadian Pacific Limited (I worked for them on contract)  to photograph the Royal Hudson which was being repaired at what at the time was called the Drake Street Yard. While the memory makes me feel older it also makes me marvel at some of the marvelous opportunities that my camera was a passport for. 



A Small Window Of Opportunity
Monday, October 27, 2014

Rebecca Anne Stewart, 17, October 26 2014


On October 26 Rebecca asked me to photograph her. I took advantage of the small window of opportunity. I was able to shoot two Fuji 3200 ISO instant film prints and a few, exactly 10, with my Fuji X-E1 before my session was terminated.





Pray Gather Me, Anemone!
Sunday, October 26, 2014


Anemone hupihensis October 24 2014


 A bout of insomnia this Friday night (but now early Saturday morning ) has me at my computer writing a blog about yesterday (Friday) and the flowers I found in the garden so that I can post it today Saturday for Sunday’s blog tomorrow.

I did not know that I have been pushing a self-propelled lawn mower (new last spring) for months not knowing that the belt connecting the motor to the wheels had come off. When I had to mow the long boulevard (it is at an incline) I was huffing and puffing it. After a few minutes I would go inside and have a glass of orange juice and waiting for my heart to slow down and for my lungs to fill with air. Today I discovered the loose pulley and suddenly mowing the lawn (and using it as a vacuum to suck up all the debris that came down in the windstorm a few days ago) was not so much of a chore. But it still took me four hours so exhaustion might be the reason for the insomnia.

Two plants showed off today. One was the lowly (in some quarters but not in mine) Anemone hupihensis which does flower in late summer. The other was a startling light yellow English Rose called  Rosa ‘Crocus Rose’. I could not resist sniffing it. Sniffing a wonderfully fragrant rose at this time of the year is a pleasure that rarely happens in my shady garden. Of the anemone I did not think anybody of note might have written a poem about it. I was wrong:


Emily Dickinson (1830–86).  Complete Poems.  1924.

Part Three: Love

XL



SUMMER for thee grant I may be    

  When summer days are flown!      

Thy music still when whippoorwill 

  And oriole are done!

 

For thee to bloom, I’ll skip the tomb              5

  And sow my blossoms o’er!   

Pray gather me, Anemone,

  Thy flower forevermore!

And of course I have known for years that Jorge Luís Borges wrote a very short story featuring a yellow rose (the English version follows the Spanish one):


Rosa Çrocus Rose' October 24 2014


Una Rosa Amarilla



Por Jorge Luis Borges



Ni aquella tarde ni la otra murió el ilustre Giambattista Marino, que las bocas unánimes de la Fama (para usar la imagen que le fue cara) proclamaron el nuevo Homero y el nuevo Dante, pero el hecho inmóvil y silencioso que entonces ocurrió fue en verdad el último de su vida. Colmado de años y de gloria, el hombre moría en un vasto lecho español de columnas labradas. Nada cuesta imaginar a unos pasos un sereno balcón que mira al poniente y, más abajo, mármoles y laureles y un jardín que duplica sus graderías en una agua rectangular. Una mujer ha puesto en una copa una rosa amarilla; el hombre murmura los versos inevitables que a él mismo, para hablar con sinceridad, ya lo hastían un poco:



Púrpura del jardín, pompa del prado, gema de primavera,



ojo de abril…



Entonces ocurrió la revelación. Marino vio la rosa, como Adán pudo verla en el Paraíso, y sintió que ella estaba en su eternidad y no en sus palabras y que podemos mencionar o aludir pero no expresar y que los altos y soberbios volúmenes que formaban un ángulo de la sala una penumbra de oro no eran (como en vanidad soñó) un espejo del mundo, sino una cosa más agregada al mundo.



Esta iluminación alcanzó Marino en la víspera de su muerte, y Homero y Dante acaso la alcanzaron también.



Borges, Luis Jorge. El hacedor. Ed. Debolsillo. 1ra edición en México en agosto del 2012.





A Yellow Rose

J. L. Borges





Neither that afternoon nor the next did the illustrious Giambattista Marino die, he whom the unanimous mouths of Fame — to use an image dear to him — proclaimed as the new Homer and the new Dante. But still, the noiseless fact that took place then was in reality the last event of his life. Laden with years and with glory, he lay dying in a huge Spanish bed with carved bedposts. It is not hard to imagine a serene balcony a few steps away, facing the west, and, below, marble and laurels and a garden whose various levels are duplicated in a rectangle of water. A woman has placed in a goblet a yellow rose. The man murmurs the inevitable lines that now, to tell the truth, bore even him a little:



Purple of the garden, pomp of the meadow,

Gem of the spring, April’s eye . . .



Then the revelation occured: Marino saw the rose as Adam might have seen it in Paradise, and he thought that the rose was to be found in its own eternity and not in his words; and that we may mention or allude to a thing, but not express it; and that the tall, proud volumes casting a golden shadow in a corner were not — as his vanity had dreamed — a mirror of the world, but rather one thing more added to the world.



Marino achieved this illumination on the eve of his death, and Homer and Dante may have achieved it as well.



[From Dreamtigers, by Jorge Luis Borges, translated by Mildred Boyer]



Cuernos De Chivo (AK-47s) & Richard the Lionheart At Acre
Saturday, October 25, 2014

A Federal in Acapulco with his cuerno de chivo


Because I have a good memory I remember that in 17 March of 1992 the Israeli Embassy in Buenos Aires suffered a terrorism attack, a suicide bombing, later attributed to Iran. Twenty-nine civilians were killed in the attack and 242 additional civilians were injured.

When lots more terrorism began to unfold in the new century my Argentine artist friend Juan Manuel Sánchez discussed that a safe heaven far from it all would be the Argentine Patagonia. Since then wealth Americans have discovered it and property would now be at a premium.

One of the more onerous by-products of social media these days are the ambulance chasers who clamour to be first with the “This is my favourite song (video, film) by so and so.” It is interesting to note that none of my social media friends noted the death of Ben Bradlee. He spoke good French but didn’t sing.

Then there is that picture of one of those American women with I believe an Armenian background that appears with the heading that fewer people have died of Ebola than married her or one of her sisters.

TV news, social media, newspapers, the on line ones and the hard copy ones, all tell us of relevant but mostly irrelevant details about disasters, kidnappings, and war. But most recently it was all about the terrorist tragedy in Ottawa. The me-tooers are reverently placing their ten cent opinions on the matter as if I would be interested on the opinion of an eminent local actor’s opinion on the matter. I would be most interested in noting that the terrorist, Michael Zehaf-Bibeau when he ran from the first assassination to his car I was sure he had no gun. Did he leave it behind? Did he have more guns in that car?

After a few years of watching MSNBC and particularly Rachel Maddow I have come to the conclusion that American politicians are either Democrats or idiots. One of them Republican Representative from Alaska, Don Young (81 in spite of his name) said a few things in a recent debate that he had to apologize for. One of them I thought was funny:

Dismissing same sex marriage he asked, “What do you get with two bulls?

But this other statement made me think:

He offended some high school students who recently lost a classmate to suicide by suggesting that suicide was result of a lack of support from friends and family.

That made me think of dead terrorist Michael Zehaf-Bibeau’s mother in her apology to the murdered soldier Cpl Nathan Cirillo’s family that she had not seen her son in five years and she hated him. How off the mark is that idiot from Alaska?

In 1191, after the fall of fall of Acre (in the Holy land), during the Third Crusade, Richard the Lionheart attempted to negotiate terms of surrender with the Saracens. Richard wanted to exchange over 3,000 captured prisoners for the True Cross, as well as a hefty ransom and imprisoned Christians.

After much delay by Saladin and the Muslims, Richard, became impatient so he personally marched his prisoners to a hill called Ayyadieh. There, in full view of the nearby Muslim army encampment, Richard ordered the slaughter of the over 3,000 prisoners, women and children included. They were all mercilessly beaten to death, axed and cut down by swords and lances. A Muslim force, so enraged by this act, attempted to charge the crusader lines but was repeatedly beaten back, allowing Richard and his army to retire in good order. It would seem that terrorism in the name of the True God does not differentiate from one God or the Other.

While I never met a terrorist in person I did meet Alfredo Astiz as a young and handsome (clean cut, too) Argentine Navy Lieutenant. I wrote about him here. And in related blogs here and here.

Not a terrorist in Acapulco
How could I have foreseen that this man would perform unspeakable crimes against humanity?

It is know but forgotten that when the Brazilian government was attempting to unite the vast landmass with highways into the Amazon interior that small airplanes were sent that dropped dynamite to help depopulate Native Brazilian villages that were in the way. There was never a confirmation that deadly spores were also thrown over.

It would seem to me that terrorism has always been with us and that it has been universal and that it has not respected any skin colour. The Japanese massacred the Chinese in Nanking and Generals Julio A Rocca and Bartolomé Mitre in Argentina pacified the natives dead much in the same way as in the United States. Is there any difference between massacre and terrorism? We know that in WWII the Luftwaffe installed specialized air brakes and sirens that made the dive bombing runs of their Stukas fill those in the ground with terror.

At this date the 42 young Mexican students (to be teachers) that disappeared in Iguala, Guerrero have yet to be found. This will be probably seen as narco-terrorism associated with dishonest Mexican police.

My friend Trans-Link driver Paul came to visit me on Wednesday afternoon and I told him, “Watch for men, or women with bulky midriffs who board your bus.” I then added that Patagonia was looking pretty good.



On The Instantaneous
Friday, October 24, 2014








My first book purchase when Rosemary, Alexandra, Hilary and I arrived in Vancouver from Mexico City in 1975 was The Random House Dictionary of the English Language – The Unabridged Edition – 1966

I don’t open it much these days with the ready availability of on-line dictionaries. I chose to do so today as a form of illustrating today’s blog on the theme of the over use (in my books) of the word still.

For anybody not acquainted with photography you might not know that the photographer, who shoots (non-moving) photographs when films (the moving kind) are being made, is called the stills photographer.

If you know a bit about art you might recognize the name of the New York-based photographer Cindy Sherman. She achieved international fame with her series Untitled Film Stills, 1977–1980, which consists of 69 black-and-white photographs. The artist poses (they are self-portraits in different roles and settings (streets, yards, pools, beaches, and interiors), producing a result reminiscent of stills typical of Italian neorealist or American film noir of the 1940s, 1950s and 1960s.

I shot stills of CBC variety and drama series at the CBC from 1977 until the early 80s. I always argued (for fun) with the crews that stills came before moving pictures and thus they should be called moves photographers.

Another romantic use of still is to attach it to the idea of making illicit booze in the Deep South of the United States.

So far so good. But I started noticing by the early 90s that people I had not seen for a while would start conversations with, “Alex are you still…” I knew what they were driving at. They did not consider photography a relevant (much as it in fact is not relevant now) profession and they wanted to know if I had moved to a better and more established mode for making money. I particularly got miffed when the questioners were lawyers, I usually responded, “Are you still lawyering?”

Another awful use of still is in connection with the proliferation of female selfies in facebook (note that the style of the logo means it should be in lower case). Because I have few acquaintances under 40, most of these selfies are of women over 40. Many of the pictures are terrible phone selfies or dark with light backgrounds, or in a merciless flash situation at a restaurant or party. Friends will comment, “You are still beautiful.” Since I don’t rant or complain on facebook I do not put stuff like, “Wow, what an active and incisive brain!”

The other side of the coin is that nobody comments on man selfies, “You are still handsome.”

If I were a woman over 40 and someone wrote about my perceived beauty with still, I would immediately go to the Hudson’s Bay and purchase a large jar of Oil of Olay.

And yes I am still taking photographs. On a sadder note I remember the many times my mother told me as a young boy, "Your sister, Vicky had red hair. She was still-born."



The Virgin Floozy In The Tub
Thursday, October 23, 2014



Joelle - 1989


One of the most pleasing aspects in my ever diminishing profession as a photographer is to be able to photograph someone more than once. It especially interesting when time has transpired between the sittings.

Sometime in 1989 as I was planning my show of women photographed in tubs I went through the people I knew and asked them, “Would you pose for me in tub?” Without mentioning that I wanted them unclothed the idea of them being in a tub of water precluded clothing as such except for two of them who wore bikini bottoms. I found out quickly that the easiest way to have a woman take off all her clothes was to suggest a bathtub.

In my search for subjects once I exhausted my list of friends I went to Emily Carr to have lunch with my friend Derrick Carter, who at the time was teaching design at the former institute but know university. I asked him if he knew of any possibilities. He coincidentally pointed at young red-haired woman on the cafeteria line-up and said, “She would do it.”

In retrospect, I know realize that this whole procedure would now be deemed inappropriate by any education institution. But things were definitely different in that past century.

I got up and without any kind of introduction I went to the red haired woman and quickly told her of my project. I finished it with, “If I were you I would not do this.” To which she said, ‘I’ll do it.”

When my 21 year-old daughter Alexandra insisted in being photographed in the tub and I found it a bit uncomfortable I wavered but she was insistent. I decided that the safe route was to get her to pose at the same time as the red-haired Joelle who was also 21. They helped each other in the process and I was delighted with the results. I was particularly impressed by her delightful smile and that sparkle in her eyes.


Joelle - 2003
I have no memory on how it was that in June 2003 a visibly pregnant Joelle again posed in my bathtub.

Just a few days I posted a blog about my daughter’s tub photograph here. In facebook Joelle commented on the title of that blog in this way:

This title makes me laugh! That must have made me the ‘The Virgin Floozy’".

I talked to Joelle today and so that is the explanation for this day’s blog title.



     

Previous Posts
Meg Roe Laughs

David Pay's PEP Rally For New Music

A Small Window Of Opportunity

Pray Gather Me, Anemone!

Cuernos De Chivo (AK-47s) & Richard the Lionheart ...

On The Instantaneous

The Virgin Floozy In The Tub

I remember the shapes and sizes of the water taps

Monopsony - My Ennui & Weltschmerz

What Is New Music? Why I Listen To It



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3/4/07 - 3/11/07

3/11/07 - 3/18/07

3/18/07 - 3/25/07

3/25/07 - 4/1/07

4/1/07 - 4/8/07

4/8/07 - 4/15/07

4/15/07 - 4/22/07

4/22/07 - 4/29/07

4/29/07 - 5/6/07

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5/13/07 - 5/20/07

5/20/07 - 5/27/07

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6/17/07 - 6/24/07

6/24/07 - 7/1/07

7/1/07 - 7/8/07

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7/22/07 - 7/29/07

7/29/07 - 8/5/07

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8/19/07 - 8/26/07

8/26/07 - 9/2/07

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9/23/07 - 9/30/07

9/30/07 - 10/7/07

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10/14/07 - 10/21/07

10/21/07 - 10/28/07

10/28/07 - 11/4/07

11/4/07 - 11/11/07

11/11/07 - 11/18/07

11/18/07 - 11/25/07

11/25/07 - 12/2/07

12/2/07 - 12/9/07

12/9/07 - 12/16/07

12/16/07 - 12/23/07

12/23/07 - 12/30/07

12/30/07 - 1/6/08

1/6/08 - 1/13/08

1/13/08 - 1/20/08

1/20/08 - 1/27/08

1/27/08 - 2/3/08

2/3/08 - 2/10/08

2/10/08 - 2/17/08

2/17/08 - 2/24/08

2/24/08 - 3/2/08

3/2/08 - 3/9/08

3/9/08 - 3/16/08

3/16/08 - 3/23/08

3/23/08 - 3/30/08

3/30/08 - 4/6/08

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4/13/08 - 4/20/08

4/20/08 - 4/27/08

4/27/08 - 5/4/08

5/4/08 - 5/11/08

5/11/08 - 5/18/08

5/18/08 - 5/25/08

5/25/08 - 6/1/08

6/1/08 - 6/8/08

6/8/08 - 6/15/08

6/15/08 - 6/22/08

6/22/08 - 6/29/08

6/29/08 - 7/6/08

7/6/08 - 7/13/08

7/13/08 - 7/20/08

7/20/08 - 7/27/08

7/27/08 - 8/3/08

8/3/08 - 8/10/08

8/10/08 - 8/17/08

8/17/08 - 8/24/08

8/24/08 - 8/31/08

8/31/08 - 9/7/08

9/7/08 - 9/14/08

9/14/08 - 9/21/08

9/21/08 - 9/28/08

9/28/08 - 10/5/08

10/5/08 - 10/12/08

10/12/08 - 10/19/08

10/19/08 - 10/26/08

10/26/08 - 11/2/08

11/2/08 - 11/9/08

11/9/08 - 11/16/08

11/16/08 - 11/23/08

11/23/08 - 11/30/08

11/30/08 - 12/7/08

12/7/08 - 12/14/08

12/14/08 - 12/21/08

12/21/08 - 12/28/08

12/28/08 - 1/4/09

1/4/09 - 1/11/09

1/11/09 - 1/18/09

1/18/09 - 1/25/09

1/25/09 - 2/1/09

2/1/09 - 2/8/09

2/8/09 - 2/15/09

2/15/09 - 2/22/09

2/22/09 - 3/1/09

3/1/09 - 3/8/09

3/8/09 - 3/15/09

3/15/09 - 3/22/09

3/22/09 - 3/29/09

3/29/09 - 4/5/09

4/5/09 - 4/12/09

4/12/09 - 4/19/09

4/19/09 - 4/26/09

4/26/09 - 5/3/09

5/3/09 - 5/10/09

5/10/09 - 5/17/09

5/17/09 - 5/24/09

5/24/09 - 5/31/09

5/31/09 - 6/7/09

6/7/09 - 6/14/09

6/14/09 - 6/21/09

6/21/09 - 6/28/09

6/28/09 - 7/5/09

7/5/09 - 7/12/09

7/12/09 - 7/19/09

7/19/09 - 7/26/09

7/26/09 - 8/2/09

8/2/09 - 8/9/09

8/9/09 - 8/16/09

8/16/09 - 8/23/09

8/23/09 - 8/30/09

8/30/09 - 9/6/09

9/6/09 - 9/13/09

9/13/09 - 9/20/09

9/20/09 - 9/27/09

9/27/09 - 10/4/09

10/4/09 - 10/11/09

10/11/09 - 10/18/09

10/18/09 - 10/25/09

10/25/09 - 11/1/09

11/1/09 - 11/8/09

11/8/09 - 11/15/09

11/15/09 - 11/22/09

11/22/09 - 11/29/09

11/29/09 - 12/6/09

12/6/09 - 12/13/09

12/13/09 - 12/20/09

12/20/09 - 12/27/09

12/27/09 - 1/3/10

1/3/10 - 1/10/10

1/10/10 - 1/17/10

1/17/10 - 1/24/10

1/24/10 - 1/31/10

1/31/10 - 2/7/10

2/7/10 - 2/14/10

2/14/10 - 2/21/10

2/21/10 - 2/28/10

2/28/10 - 3/7/10

3/7/10 - 3/14/10

3/14/10 - 3/21/10

3/21/10 - 3/28/10

3/28/10 - 4/4/10

4/4/10 - 4/11/10

4/11/10 - 4/18/10

4/18/10 - 4/25/10

4/25/10 - 5/2/10

5/2/10 - 5/9/10

5/9/10 - 5/16/10

5/16/10 - 5/23/10

5/23/10 - 5/30/10

5/30/10 - 6/6/10

6/6/10 - 6/13/10

6/13/10 - 6/20/10

6/20/10 - 6/27/10

6/27/10 - 7/4/10

7/4/10 - 7/11/10

7/11/10 - 7/18/10

7/18/10 - 7/25/10

7/25/10 - 8/1/10

8/1/10 - 8/8/10

8/8/10 - 8/15/10

8/15/10 - 8/22/10

8/22/10 - 8/29/10

8/29/10 - 9/5/10

9/5/10 - 9/12/10

9/12/10 - 9/19/10

9/19/10 - 9/26/10

9/26/10 - 10/3/10

10/3/10 - 10/10/10

10/10/10 - 10/17/10

10/17/10 - 10/24/10

10/24/10 - 10/31/10

10/31/10 - 11/7/10

11/7/10 - 11/14/10

11/14/10 - 11/21/10

11/21/10 - 11/28/10

11/28/10 - 12/5/10

12/5/10 - 12/12/10

12/12/10 - 12/19/10

12/19/10 - 12/26/10

12/26/10 - 1/2/11

1/2/11 - 1/9/11

1/9/11 - 1/16/11

1/16/11 - 1/23/11

1/23/11 - 1/30/11

1/30/11 - 2/6/11

2/6/11 - 2/13/11

2/13/11 - 2/20/11

2/20/11 - 2/27/11

2/27/11 - 3/6/11

3/6/11 - 3/13/11

3/13/11 - 3/20/11

3/20/11 - 3/27/11

3/27/11 - 4/3/11

4/3/11 - 4/10/11

4/10/11 - 4/17/11

4/17/11 - 4/24/11

4/24/11 - 5/1/11

5/1/11 - 5/8/11

5/8/11 - 5/15/11

5/15/11 - 5/22/11

5/22/11 - 5/29/11

5/29/11 - 6/5/11

6/5/11 - 6/12/11

6/12/11 - 6/19/11

6/19/11 - 6/26/11

6/26/11 - 7/3/11

7/3/11 - 7/10/11

7/10/11 - 7/17/11

7/17/11 - 7/24/11

7/24/11 - 7/31/11

7/31/11 - 8/7/11

8/7/11 - 8/14/11

8/14/11 - 8/21/11

8/21/11 - 8/28/11

8/28/11 - 9/4/11

9/4/11 - 9/11/11

9/11/11 - 9/18/11

9/18/11 - 9/25/11

9/25/11 - 10/2/11

10/2/11 - 10/9/11

10/9/11 - 10/16/11

10/16/11 - 10/23/11

10/23/11 - 10/30/11

10/30/11 - 11/6/11

11/6/11 - 11/13/11

11/13/11 - 11/20/11

11/20/11 - 11/27/11

11/27/11 - 12/4/11

12/4/11 - 12/11/11

12/11/11 - 12/18/11

12/18/11 - 12/25/11

12/25/11 - 1/1/12

1/1/12 - 1/8/12

1/8/12 - 1/15/12

1/15/12 - 1/22/12

1/22/12 - 1/29/12

1/29/12 - 2/5/12

2/5/12 - 2/12/12

2/12/12 - 2/19/12

2/19/12 - 2/26/12

2/26/12 - 3/4/12

3/4/12 - 3/11/12

3/11/12 - 3/18/12

3/18/12 - 3/25/12

3/25/12 - 4/1/12

4/1/12 - 4/8/12

4/8/12 - 4/15/12

4/15/12 - 4/22/12

4/22/12 - 4/29/12

4/29/12 - 5/6/12

5/6/12 - 5/13/12

5/13/12 - 5/20/12

5/20/12 - 5/27/12

5/27/12 - 6/3/12

6/3/12 - 6/10/12

6/10/12 - 6/17/12

6/17/12 - 6/24/12

6/24/12 - 7/1/12

7/1/12 - 7/8/12

7/8/12 - 7/15/12

7/15/12 - 7/22/12

7/22/12 - 7/29/12

7/29/12 - 8/5/12

8/5/12 - 8/12/12

8/12/12 - 8/19/12

8/19/12 - 8/26/12

8/26/12 - 9/2/12

9/2/12 - 9/9/12

9/9/12 - 9/16/12

9/16/12 - 9/23/12

9/23/12 - 9/30/12

9/30/12 - 10/7/12

10/7/12 - 10/14/12

10/14/12 - 10/21/12

10/21/12 - 10/28/12

10/28/12 - 11/4/12

11/4/12 - 11/11/12

11/11/12 - 11/18/12

11/18/12 - 11/25/12

11/25/12 - 12/2/12

12/2/12 - 12/9/12

12/9/12 - 12/16/12

12/16/12 - 12/23/12

12/23/12 - 12/30/12

12/30/12 - 1/6/13

1/6/13 - 1/13/13

1/13/13 - 1/20/13

1/20/13 - 1/27/13

1/27/13 - 2/3/13

2/3/13 - 2/10/13

2/10/13 - 2/17/13

2/17/13 - 2/24/13

2/24/13 - 3/3/13

3/3/13 - 3/10/13

3/10/13 - 3/17/13

3/17/13 - 3/24/13

3/24/13 - 3/31/13

3/31/13 - 4/7/13

4/7/13 - 4/14/13

4/14/13 - 4/21/13

4/21/13 - 4/28/13

4/28/13 - 5/5/13

5/5/13 - 5/12/13

5/12/13 - 5/19/13

5/19/13 - 5/26/13

5/26/13 - 6/2/13

6/2/13 - 6/9/13

6/9/13 - 6/16/13

6/16/13 - 6/23/13

6/23/13 - 6/30/13

6/30/13 - 7/7/13

7/7/13 - 7/14/13

7/14/13 - 7/21/13

7/21/13 - 7/28/13

7/28/13 - 8/4/13

8/4/13 - 8/11/13

8/11/13 - 8/18/13

8/18/13 - 8/25/13

8/25/13 - 9/1/13

9/1/13 - 9/8/13

9/8/13 - 9/15/13

9/15/13 - 9/22/13

9/22/13 - 9/29/13

9/29/13 - 10/6/13

10/6/13 - 10/13/13

10/13/13 - 10/20/13

10/20/13 - 10/27/13

10/27/13 - 11/3/13

11/3/13 - 11/10/13

11/10/13 - 11/17/13

11/17/13 - 11/24/13

11/24/13 - 12/1/13

12/1/13 - 12/8/13

12/8/13 - 12/15/13

12/15/13 - 12/22/13

12/22/13 - 12/29/13

12/29/13 - 1/5/14

1/5/14 - 1/12/14

1/12/14 - 1/19/14

1/19/14 - 1/26/14

1/26/14 - 2/2/14

2/2/14 - 2/9/14

2/9/14 - 2/16/14

2/16/14 - 2/23/14

2/23/14 - 3/2/14

3/2/14 - 3/9/14

3/9/14 - 3/16/14

3/16/14 - 3/23/14

3/23/14 - 3/30/14

3/30/14 - 4/6/14

4/6/14 - 4/13/14

4/13/14 - 4/20/14

4/20/14 - 4/27/14

4/27/14 - 5/4/14

5/4/14 - 5/11/14

5/11/14 - 5/18/14

5/18/14 - 5/25/14

5/25/14 - 6/1/14

6/1/14 - 6/8/14

6/8/14 - 6/15/14

6/15/14 - 6/22/14

6/22/14 - 6/29/14

6/29/14 - 7/6/14

7/6/14 - 7/13/14

7/13/14 - 7/20/14

7/20/14 - 7/27/14

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8/17/14 - 8/24/14

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8/31/14 - 9/7/14

9/7/14 - 9/14/14

9/14/14 - 9/21/14

9/21/14 - 9/28/14

9/28/14 - 10/5/14

10/5/14 - 10/12/14

10/12/14 - 10/19/14

10/19/14 - 10/26/14

10/26/14 - 11/2/14