Notes from New Caledonia and Vanuatu (November 2015)

Noumea

Travel: the waiting game. Noumea. Hotel Nouvata. Lobby. 40 minutes till shuttle bus for airport arrives. Heading to Vanuatu. Should already be there. Chanced to look at my email before boarding shuttle for early morning flight. Got up at 5:00 AM for this purpose! Only to read the flight had been cancelled. Only the second time this has happened to me over the years so I consider myself lucky.

Wasn't so bad really. I went back to bed for a couple of hours and subsequently had a nice walk around Noumea. That was my plan for Port Vila today but it will be dark when I get there now. Quite a fascinating blast to be here in Noumea. One can live a life so ignorant of things that are just so close. Just three hours flying time from Sydney and you’re in the French Pacific. English very much a second language here but everyone speaks it well enough. Just 44% of the population of New Caledonia are descended from the Kanakas - all of whom came here from Vanuatu. The remainder are French, or the progeny of French plus locals:  ‘burgers’ as they are called it Sri Lanka. People of mixed blood. Noticeably missing are the big-framed, overweight people found on other Pacific nations. I assume the French influence has been significant here and that equals education which equals better diet/exercise which equals a beautiful streamline version of Pacific people. Curious to see where Vanuatu fits in the fat/ weight scale.

So out here, just a short hop away from Australia is this pretty, French speaking version of the Gold Coast. Actually it's nicer than the Gold Coast, and though the local culture has been well and truly relegated to second place under the French elite, there is at least a local culture and things seem harmonious. (Note: I learned later this was often far from the truth.) 

I wonder if the men beat their wives and partners here? And what of Islamism? Honestly out here it's like jihads, terrorism, the Taliban etc don't exist. Travelling tends to remove you from the news cycle, and I’d need to turn on a TV or read a newspaper or monitor news feed to hear about the Islamists and I'm tired of them ….

…… wait there's more. New flight to Vanuatu went ahead as scheduled, but no driver at the airport to get me. Air Vanuatu have lost one of its ATR aircraft to a broken engine. So all their scheduling has been thrown into chaos - all of their flights have been rescheduled, handed over to Aircailin, or cancelled. My flight today to Luganville has been rescheduled to two hours earlier. I rang Emmanuel in Luganville this morning and he said he would pass on the new details to his son. Alas he didn't show up at pick-up time at the hotel so I think I'll ditch his services from now on. I thought the family connection was a nice touch but it's already an unreliable connection or maybe I just didn't give him enough Vanuatu time?

Port Vila

I had a lovely morning wandering around Port Vila. And it was with great relief that I woke up this morning able to do such things. There was an episode in the middle of the night that sent me scurrying to the toilet a few times. No pain - just dread that it might be the start of several days of inconvenience but when I woke all was back to normal. Alleluia! Think it may have been the fish or mashed potato (made with milk) but who knows? The fish was wahu and I loved it - juicy and tasty.

Port Vila Airport

So here I wait (and write) once more at the Port Vila domestic airport. Very casual. Laid back. Airport officials in thongs and high viz jackets. No fans turning but I've found a spot at the end of the building with an open view of the terminal, and the hint of a breeze every now and then. Quite pleasant and entertaining really. Just 45 or so minutes to kill then to Luganville on Espiritu Santo where the whole reason for my being here will suddenly be real. Conversations tonight I assume with Emmanuel about how we run the workshop. I'm looking forward to his input to help and finalise the fine detail for the week. There's still a few blanks.

And ….. I have seen enough of ni-Vanuatu to know the workshop will be slower than I thought. (I'm an expert after 24 hours!) There is a cultural difference - that's no surprise -  but the surprise is often in the nature of the cultural difference. I'm still working on it but they don't appear to process information the same way I might. And it is slower, but that's just because they're thinking something other than about the words I'm speaking! It's fascinating. It’ll take me all week to figure it out I'm sure. As well as everything else we're supposed to achieve.

 

Housework: The Hard Work of Democracy

CC image courtesy of Nigel Paine

Housework
Dunstan Playhouse
State Theatre Company
Tue 11 Feb, 2025

It was a little unnerving to watch a show trashing the inner workings of democracy just as the world’s foremost democratic state across the Pacific is busy dismantling theirs. The timing is exquisite.

So too is the timing of the pacy dialogue between the six cast members of Housework. Set changes are marked by a loud military style drum beat and a ticking clock. The pressure is relentless and the need to get your message out quickly is paramount. When not firing messages at each other MPs and their staffers are racing down the corridors of power to the next confrontation.

A wonderfully cold, hard, and grand set design facilitates these multiple movements and adds a gravitas that belies the petty intentions of the building’s inhabitants. One may enter politics with grand delusions about making the world a better place but any optimism is quickly worn down by a realistic pragmatism. Cynicism trumps naivete as negotiations become a process of conniving, backstabbing, tit-for-tat I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine. This is the sad, but at the same time hilariously funny, source of humour for plays like Housework.

We’ve seen it before in TV shows like Yes Minister and Utopia – political absurdity is a rich vein of humour that never seems to tire, but at some point, beyond the laughs, one wonders whether this kind of democracy is very productive. It’s convoluted, slow going, and spits out professional and personal casualties.

Shannon Rush’s smart direction and an innovative set manages to convey the impression that there are crowds of people in the house: MPs, staffers, ministers, protesters, cleaners – all buzzing about taking care of business.

Emily Taheny is simply wonderful as the Chief of Staff for a federal MP as she controls all movements and narratives around her boss with perfect grasp of tone and manner. She pays attention to every little detail as a senior staffer, and consummate performer. She’s a joy to watch. Franca Lafosse is excellent as the hapless junior staffer and her excitement at being at the coalface of politics is endearing and infectious. She quickly learns the game – perhaps too quickly – and pays the price for crossing boundaries.

Susie Youssef as the MP shows great comic timing with several funny one-liners, and it was a nice touch to have Sunitra Martinelli play the part of both cleaner and Prime Minister. After all, someone has to “clean up all this shit”!

Despite all the wheeling and dealing, the blame and accusations, the conniving and backstabbing, the characters seem ultimately to care for each other somewhere. There appears to be tacit recognition that they are trapped in a system that brings out the worst in people and underneath it all that they might actually have some respect for each other.

And what’s it all for ultimately? The love of democracy? The good of the country? To make people’s lives better? The final scene provides the answer with brilliant simplicity!

Great theatre –  superbly functional set, humour in spades, and a witty and insightful play perfectly executed by a first rate cast who didn’t miss a beat.

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)

Ships and Norway

 

The first time I ever heard of the country Norway was when I was a young child in Port Lincoln perhaps 8-9 years old. We lived in a house that overlooked Port Lincoln harbour and we could see all the ships that came and went. My father was the local top cop and because of his high profile in the town he often got to meet the captains of the visiting ships that came to port. So there was an occasion when this ship called the Nidar came to Port Lincoln and I learned that it was from Norway. This became significant because for the first time, through Dad's connections with Captain Larssen of the Nidar, we were able to go on board and have dinner and we were given a tour of the ship. As you can imagine it was quite a special occasion and something I've never forgotten. In addition every time the Nidar came to port Lincoln it would blow its horn three times when it came into port and again three times when it left. Captain Larssen said this was his way of saying hello and goodbye to us when they came and went so we felt quite special when we heard that loud barp barp barp noise across the harbour rising up to the hill where we lived. It was Captain Larssen sending us greetings.

So my first memory of Norway was to do with ships.  Fast forward 60 years and I'm finally in Norway. I'm in the waiting room of the Roros railway station. I'd been walking around for a while and it was pretty cold so I thought I'd just go in there and take a break. I figured that it would be  warm and I could defrost before continuing my walk. This really friendly guy (see photo above)  was in there with a companion having a few beers in the corner of the waiting room and offered me a drink. I declined the drink but lingered to have a chat and he was really friendly. He spoke excellent English as many Norwegians do and he told me how he had first heard about Australia from his father. His father was a sailor or seaman and had travelled the world on ships in the Merchant Navy and said that the best place he ever went, and the best people he ever met were Australian and this guy in the waiting room, his son, was telling me this story and how because of what his father had told him, he'd always wanted to go to Australia and was very pleased to meet me there in the waiting room of Roros railway station! I said well you don't look like you're that old so you've got plenty of life left - maybe you could go to Australia and see it for yourself and he held up his beer, looked at me with a great big smile and said, “I drank all my money.” So a sad story in a nice way;  he was obviously a drinker and perhaps a heavy drinker - it was about 1:00 in the afternoon and he obviously already had a few and he said that was a pretty regular occurrence where they go to that waiting room at the station and have a few drinks.  But we both kind of realised that we shared a connection.  My first experience and my first thought of the country of Norway was associated with ships and his first introduction to Australia was also through ships and people sailing the world. It was just a really nice interlude, not quite magical, but a very warm moment where it felt very nice to be in Norway. I felt welcome.

Americana

Pokey La Farge

1) TRUMP 

Trump is back. Once again America has turned its back on decency, respect, and empathy and elected a morally bankrupt oligarch. It feels like a huge backward step in terms of the evolution of civil society. Furthermore, as someone else wrote, I cannot respect anyone who voted for this man. But it hurts to see a culture, a country that in so many ways was such a beacon in our lives sell its soul to the devil. Ironically so, as it is the religious right that helped propel Trump to power a second time.

2)      RIP GARTH HUDSON

A few days ago the final surviving member of The Band, Garth Hudson, passed away. Not just any band, THE Band. The Band who made history with Music from Big Pink. The band that backed Bob Dylan.  A band that according to many pundits changed everything. Eric Clapton was playing in supergroup Blind Faith when he first heard The Band and says he immediately knew he had to leave the band and do something better, more significant.

As we so often hear these days, God is calling the musicians of our generation home. But the passing of Garth Hudson feels like a milestone. The Band are the first of the significant 70s bands that have all passed away. All five members have left this earth. They have all played their Last Waltz. It feels quite numbing. Just another indicator that my generation is moving on. And it feels like just a taste of what it might be like to live long enough to see most of your friends move on before you.

The Band crossed many musical frontiers and accordingly their potential appeal was vast. They were part country, part bluegrass, part folk, part rock, part blues, part soul with even a sprinkling of jazz - largely due to the musical wizardry of Garth Hudson. So wide was their catchment pool they are hailed as having invented a new genre: Americana.

Levon Helm was the first singing drummer I’d ever seen and I marvelled at his ability to keep time and sing complex melodies. He led the vocals on what became an anthem of a generation – The Weight. The Band certainly wrote plenty of their own material but also adapted traditional songs like Long Black Veil for a modern audience. In songs like The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down they used events from American history to tell musical stories. Everything they did was different and hard to categorise, and frequently featured quirky lyrics: “Up on Cripple Creek she sends me”,  “I pulled in to Nazareth, feelin’ bout half past dead”.

Establishing a new genre is no mean feat. This, and the fact that their musical output was wide and varied, with several songs that are already considered classics (eg add Chest Fever to the abovementioned), the fact that they hooked their wagon to the Dylan phenomenon, and the fact they had the temerity to call themselves THE Band, should ensure their place in modern musical history will be acknowledged well into the future.

3)     A COMPLETE UNKNOWN        

I really enjoyed this fine movie about the life of Bob Dylan. It was also an emotionally exhausting experience that laid bare my conflicting sentiments about America. A Complete Unknown focuses on so many things that are great about America; so many things that have been part of our cultural DNA. So many things that I love and are entwined in my own identity: Woody Guthrie, Peter Seeger, folk songs. Telling stories of the people, defending the rights of the dispossessed, singing songs of justice.  And I felt anger growing inside me when I thought about the 74 million Americans that just re-elected Trump and in one foul swoop swept aside that America. The America of romance, dreams, and music. Trump has killed off Americana – at least for the time being.

There are stunning moments in A Complete Unknown that are deeply moving. One thing it does really well is make clear that these Dylan songs that have become anthems were all once played for the very first time. Joan Baez hears Blowin’ in the Wind the very first time in the kitchen of her flat and the look on her face shows that something amazing has just been born. The first time Dylan plays The Times They Are A-Changing at Newport Folk Festival people backstage similarly knew they were witnessing a pivotal moment in history. One of the greatest songs ever written was being born in front of them. It was profoundly moving and it was one of several times throughout this movie that the tears flowed.

Dylan really was remarkable. He really was somehow able to be the spokesperson of a time, of a generation. He captured that spirit and the dawning aspirations of millions and put them into spine-chilling words. Almost other-worldly.

It was an amazing time to be alive. My generation has seen so much transformational change. And until 2016 those changes felt like they were part of a world moving inexorably forward to a better place. But Trump’s re-election has once again shattered that myth. And maybe that’s all it was – a myth and not at all based in any reality. Maybe four years will pass, and the good ship America will right itself, and the world can move forward again. But I’m not at all hopeful. It might be that we need another Complete Unknown

 

 

Music and Me

 A friend asked me whether I'd ever told my friends about a song I wrote about a friend who got killed in a car accident. (See The Ballad of Jo Moore.) My reply:

Great questions about my Jo Moore song and whether I have told my friends about it. No, I haven’t and now realise that is quite strange. I haven’t thought about this much over the years but this is why.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Fabulaires

In my late teens/early 20’s many people I knew played musical instruments. Many of them went on to play music for a living and became quite well known. The people who were in the band with Jo are in that category. I was playing music and writing songs quietly on the side while pursuing my studies, travelling a lot, and eventually working as a teacher in schools. Most of the people I knew who were friends of Jo were all in the music business and they were much more accomplished musicians than I was so I always felt shy about promoting my own music. I developed my ‘musical world’ with an entirely group of people that I felt more comfortable with. With a group of people who wouldn’t compare me with my well known friends who were in bands.

It's interesting to reconsider all this now. Looking back now I actually think I was pretty good – even back then in 1980 when I wrote that song for Jo. Some time much later in life I started to think that I was probably good enough to ‘make it’ in music and carve out a successful living. But I didn’t believe it; I didn’t have the confidence or as someone once said I didn’t have the drive or self-belief to make it as a musician. I realise now that it was also a protective behaviour. If I didn’t try and make it with music I wouldn’t be let down or disappointed so I was happy to tell myself I wasn’t good enough! As I got older, got married and had children I started to think differently. I started to believe I was good enough, but by then it was too late to really try so there was no chance of disappointment!

So you see my relationship with music has always been a strange one. Deep down I’ve always wanted to be a musician, but never really believed It was possible, so I never poured my energy into it. I don’t regret the choices I made. I’m happy now to be still playing music in various forms and that people who hear me play seem to like it.

So the short answer to your question is back them I didn’t think the song was good enough and I was too embarrassed to play it to people I knew. 

Online Teaching - the Very Early Days

 EFI – English for Internet

In its early days study.com went by the name English for Internet (EFI). I first discovered the site sometime early in 1997 when I was searching for ESL materials to use with my classroom based ESL groups in Adelaide, Australia. I noted that EFI was calling for ESL/EFL teachers to take classes online on a volunteer basis. As I knew little about how to teach online at that time and I saw it as a potentially rewarding professional development opportunity. I decided to take the plunge and put my name forward. David Winet responded and asked if I would be interested in taking an online listening class as my first assignment.

Visiting David in Berkeley 2003

If I knew little about online teaching, I knew even less about how to use audio on the Internet. However, David was persuasive and I agreed to try it. What followed was an exciting time of exploration of how to produce listening materials. Armed with little knowledge, but just enough to be dangerous, I frequently pestered David with questions about how to master the intricacies of Real Audio. Real Audio was the most used audio software of the time, and with David’s infinite patience, I managed to get some basic materials ready for student use in June, 1997. They included information about how to use Real Player, and Pure Voice (a voice attachment tool that worked with the Eudora email client, and a selection of links to sites that offered various listening exercises. This very first page can be viewed at http://michaelcoghlan.net/TOEFLHOME.htm As the URL suggests, the exercises were designed to assist students who wanted to practice their listening skills in preparation for the international TOEFL test that enabled entry into university. Actual lesson assignments can be viewed at http://michaelcoghlan.net/toefllessonsplan.htm

The classes were small with typically 6-8 students. Classes were offered from memory in blocks of five weeks. All student activity was asynchronous, with the option of attending a live synchronous session once a week on a Sunday at The Palace, a forerunner of the later more sophisticated 3D virtual worlds. In fact The Palace was a 2D virtual world where participants were represented by avatars who could move around a 2d space and where text chat would appear in chat bubbles next to your avatar. In truth, most of the interaction in these early Palace sessions had little to do with class or study content. They tended to be general and very social chat sessions where students could practice their written English skills, and form bonds with others in their class. From these early Palace experiences I learnt the enormous value of allowing students social time to connect with their teacher and other students to form a sense of community. The later work of Gilly Salmon and her seminal work on emoderation bore this out. (http://www.gillysalmon.com/five-stage-model.html)

Some students would take the extra step to meet online with me in Yahoo Messenger, or ICQ – to my knowledge the earliest tools that enabled live synchronous conversation. These were usually one on one sessions where students could ask questions about the set listening exercises, or practice their conversation skills.

After more or less mastering the available tools for producing audio for listening exercises I moved on to taking a Reading and Writing class. The first version of these classes can be seen at http://www.michaelcoghlan.net/RWHOME.htm Note the predominance of text and the almost complete lack of images and video! This was absolutely typical of many websites at the time. To my credit though I did attempt to encourage students to contribute photographs to a class community page at http://michaelcoghlan.net/TOEFLClassinfo5.htm But that was a high level skill in those days and few managed to send through photographs for me to post.

As with the Listening classes, the Reading and Writing classes were held in five week blocks with most work done asynchronously, and again with the option of attending the weekly meeting at The Palace.

A significant spin-off of these EFI classes for me was that I began using the materials I developed, as basic as they were, with my students in my paid day job. I seem to remember too that occasionally some of my day students would show up at the Palace – my two work worlds were neatly coalescing.

Around this time I became aware that another EFI class taught by Vance Stevens was meeting weekly in the Palace just before my class. What started to happen over time is that Vance’s students would stay online to join my class so in effect the two classes blended into one and Vance and I would co-facilitate these combined sessions.  I’ll let Vance Stevens take up the story from here, as this is where and how the concept of the Webheads was born!

The Questions - Review

 

State Theatre Company
Space Theatre, Tue 30 July

The stage set for The Questions immediately catches your attention: bright, modern, urban, and obviously high above the ground. The adjoining band practice room, visually separated by just a thin set of Venetian blinds, suggests life lived at close quarters. Enter Chaya Ocampo singing a charming little ditty about dating being a digital shit show!

From the outset she is engaging and vivacious, and she’s excited about meeting her online date (Charles Wu) for the first time. It doesn’t begin well. Both Ocampo and Wu quickly realise they preferred the online version of the person in front of them and want out. Then comes the lockdown and there’s no escape. They have to deal with each other for a long time.

You can imagine the fear, angst, frustration and anger that accompany this realization. Things initially get very heated but over time they begin to accommodate each other’s presence with relative calm. Key to this connection are The Questions they agree to ask each other to wile away time and get to know each other. Curiously, effectively, some of the more personal questions are asked and answered in song adding a level of poignancy that rises above mere words.

Not once was I surprised or bothered by the characters breaking into song. In so many musicals the transition between spoken dialogue and song can feel blatantly contrived. Here the transition from dialogue to song felt natural and perfectly integrated into the fabric of the narrative.

And Ocampo and Wu are such fabulous singers. I especially enjoyed the warm tones of Wu’s lower register – really quite special – but the songs they sing together are sensational. A wonderful blend of emotion and harmony – often telling the story from opposite perspectives in the same song in a complex lyrical dance. Quite magnificent writing by Van Badham and Richard Wise, and delivered in near flawless fashion with conviction, compassion, and honesty.

Using the band next door as live accompaniment for the songs was a masterstroke, and the proximity of these inquisitive neighbours offers plenty of opportunity for comedy. Not only does The Questions look and sound great, but it is also very funny.

This really is an exceptional piece of theatre – a stunning set used so creatively, an entertaining story, and great music in the hands of two fine performers equally adept at acting and singing. A must see.

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)