It has been twenty years since I gave my first English lesson. I was only 14 and we lived in the mountains surrounding the proud city of Málaga. I enjoyed it so much, that I seriously considered it as a future occupation. I was also interested in the European Union and its political manoeuvrings and I did part of my university course on the subject, along with two languages: French and Russian. So as I am now giving language training at the European Institutions, I can say that I have made it - I have arrived at the top of my profession; the pinnacle of my career.
The one thing I have learned in these two decades in pedagogy, with an estimation of 400 students who have taken my courses, is that every one of them is an individual with different learning needs, different habits in the classroom and different knowledge of one or other aspect of the language. The one thing they do have in common is that they fit a proscribed language level. But they are not school pupils where everyone learns together from day one. That's where the similarities end. Where one student may be good at grammar and theory but bad at speaking and writing, another one may be good at listening and reading but bad at grammar and theory. And that is why no one method can ever be applied in the classroom.
A certain international company based in the US giving language training goes one step further: it provides its trainers with manuals so that they never need their imagination ever again. The trainer is not allowed to use explanations and certainly not allowed to explain using graphs, lists or charts which show how the grammar of this language might work. If this wasn't enough, it then provides certain phrases per page in the manual that the trainer should spoonfeed the student with, e.g. "the photocopier doesn't work". Well hello! How in the name of sanity is the student then supposed to relate the negative form if he/she is not shown how it works in the first place? The student can know far more about grammar if a wider explanation is given concerning that point than just a poor lonely memory phrase.
Furthermore, the trainers at this establishment are told they will be docked bonus money if they deviate from the methods, or if anomalies are found in the progress of their clients. In other words, clients will not learn too quickly or the company will lose money, nor will they learn nothing or they will find alternative places to learn. Another striking aspect about this multinational is that people still go there to "learn". And the company keeps growing. This shows something about our tastes... In their localities they are the most expensive usually, and they pay the least. In Brussels for example they pay a pro-rata wage which on paper seems adequate, if you're called to work for the full amount of time. The reality is most trainers there earn about 36% of the average trainer's salary, due to being allotted very few hours. There is also a clause in their contracts stipulating that they cannot work for a competitor during this time either, something that everyone else is permitted to do.
Anyway, back to the methods:
One thing that has made my blood boil over the years is this "approach" word. Every language school has an "approach"; a way of delivering lessons in their own little bundle. What these people fail to realise is that each individual needs to be shown in a different way depending on their own abilities. Children until about 8 or 9 are able to assimilate languages pretty simply because their brain is still whole. But after then, the two lobes become ever more separate and this is where the senior school makes a great difference and also where it has got the balance right. People respond much better to an academic way of learning simply because it provides the student with rules and exceptions, tables and charts of grammar and vocabulary. Language learners of any age respond far more quickly to this because they had been doing it in senior school, and that is the method they are acquainted with.
This is not saying that everyone is like this, but as this method has withstood the test of time, it has a majority of supporters. If this is combined with some of the more realistic contemporary forms of learning, a win-win situation can only come from it. Sticking to the target language works for those above beginner level, and has to work if participant and trainer do not have a common tongue. But where they do, it would be wrong not to speed things up with a gentle nudge in the right direction as long as it does not become overbearing. Trainers, especially polyglots, should under no circumstances show off their language skills by translating. However, they should use their knowledge to provide clear explanations as to why rules are different between languages, where words come from, spelling and pronunciation differences and similarities. By simply telling the student this is how it is and that's all they need to know, you are cutting off the tentpegs of language memory and assimilation. By giving them a reason or an explanation you are making sure they can digest subtle differences far more easily than simply spoonfeeding the student with information.
However, my main aim in this entry is to tell you the most important word in language learning. The word which, if properly administered, can increase learning speed. That word is why. By answering it, you are opening up whole avenues of easily memorised words, grammar rules and spellings. For without an explanation, students have nothing to grip onto, no attachment to their own language (because let's face it, we all translate when learning languages). By giving that attachment, you are teaching the student to think outside their own language without knowing it and to detach him/herself from the mother tongue discreetly, almost clandestinely, whilst making them feel like you are giving them an easy and comfortable ride towards a higher level of understanding.
Most trainers usually enter a language training establishment with visions of smiling, happy students. They do not realise how disillusioning the experience can become if methods are forcibly applied when the trainer's own methods have been successful already. Especially as they know that applicant needs money. They can say and do what they want because at the end they pay you. But I say, do not let anyone bully you into accepting their "methods". Trainers do not work comfortably when they are not happy with the regime. It is a recipe for failure and simply has no place in the classroom. Be yourself; inspire; judge the student before applying the methods; don't allow pedagogical bigotry to spoil your profession. If they do want you to apply their methods, just agree - go along with what they say, and when they're not looking or listening (which is most of the time) carry on doing what you have always done! Your own methods are the best, whatever anyone says, and that includes the language schools.
Tuesday, 25 September 2007
Thursday, 13 September 2007
Immigration is good: but what about those already here?
European Commission Vice President Franco Frattini has been in Portugal this week, outlining his upcoming proposals for a "blue card" for skilled migrant workers who can come to work freely in the EU. On the other hand, the Vice President has been keen to be tough on employers who hire staff without a residence permit. This also needs re-evaluating.
There are many thousands, in fact many tens of thousands, already here. They could be doctors, drivers, economists, lecturers, botanists, geologists, camera operators, banking experts, translators, opticians and anyone else but they are instead cleaning floors, driving taxis, picking fruit, working in bars and restaurants, or just sitting in detention centres waiting for someone to finally say yes, they can stay, or no, their application is not strong enough. What about these people first? These are the ones who need immediate attention. These are the ones who should be filling our job market first.
I have an Australian friend, a lawyer, who came to Belgium to visit and decided to stay. She is highly qualified and has ten years' experience too. I took her to the city hall and they told her if she wanted to set up an independent practice she would need to either go back to Australia and apply from there, or declare her arrival date, get a police criminal clearance paper within 40 days from Australia and the country where she lived prior to arriving, China (which will be a nightmare), fill in a form in Dutch, which includes a section where she needs to write 300 words on why she wants to live here, and then she should wait nine months. Oh yes, she cannot leave the country. Surely she would be an asset to the economy. Why then must she go through all this administrative upheaval? And to think, she is even from a country with strong diplomatic ties to the EU. What must it be like to come from Moldova, Mozambique or Myanmar?
Why is the system set up in a way which encourages those with fewer scruples to take part in people trafficking? In fact, if you look more deeply into it, the system is set up to discriminate against those who genuinely come here to work or to escape persecution and favours the economic migrants and those interested purely in social security, benefits and a life of peace paid for by the taxes.
We should be advertising our vacant positions in foreign newspapers but at the same time matching jobs to those already here. Lots of migrants don't want to sit about doing nothing, but they have to, because they are unable to work whilst their paperwork is being looked at, and that can last a very long time indeed, including appeals, re-schedulings and new evidence, all which can mean the process must start all over again. This is a ridiculous waste of precious time, paper and talent. It also creates tension between those who have arrived and the local residents, who without the necessary knowledge of the immigrant's predicament, immediately place them in a negative light.
We should do more to drive away the people traffickers by making it easier to come and work in Europe, especially those with needed talents and qualifications. If you make it legally impossible for those who arrive unannounced to stay, whilst opening quota-driven employment centres in embassies and cultural centres abroad, people trafficking would be rendered useless, especially if the EU makes that clear to the appropriate people.
There are many thousands, in fact many tens of thousands, already here. They could be doctors, drivers, economists, lecturers, botanists, geologists, camera operators, banking experts, translators, opticians and anyone else but they are instead cleaning floors, driving taxis, picking fruit, working in bars and restaurants, or just sitting in detention centres waiting for someone to finally say yes, they can stay, or no, their application is not strong enough. What about these people first? These are the ones who need immediate attention. These are the ones who should be filling our job market first.
I have an Australian friend, a lawyer, who came to Belgium to visit and decided to stay. She is highly qualified and has ten years' experience too. I took her to the city hall and they told her if she wanted to set up an independent practice she would need to either go back to Australia and apply from there, or declare her arrival date, get a police criminal clearance paper within 40 days from Australia and the country where she lived prior to arriving, China (which will be a nightmare), fill in a form in Dutch, which includes a section where she needs to write 300 words on why she wants to live here, and then she should wait nine months. Oh yes, she cannot leave the country. Surely she would be an asset to the economy. Why then must she go through all this administrative upheaval? And to think, she is even from a country with strong diplomatic ties to the EU. What must it be like to come from Moldova, Mozambique or Myanmar?
Why is the system set up in a way which encourages those with fewer scruples to take part in people trafficking? In fact, if you look more deeply into it, the system is set up to discriminate against those who genuinely come here to work or to escape persecution and favours the economic migrants and those interested purely in social security, benefits and a life of peace paid for by the taxes.
We should be advertising our vacant positions in foreign newspapers but at the same time matching jobs to those already here. Lots of migrants don't want to sit about doing nothing, but they have to, because they are unable to work whilst their paperwork is being looked at, and that can last a very long time indeed, including appeals, re-schedulings and new evidence, all which can mean the process must start all over again. This is a ridiculous waste of precious time, paper and talent. It also creates tension between those who have arrived and the local residents, who without the necessary knowledge of the immigrant's predicament, immediately place them in a negative light.
We should do more to drive away the people traffickers by making it easier to come and work in Europe, especially those with needed talents and qualifications. If you make it legally impossible for those who arrive unannounced to stay, whilst opening quota-driven employment centres in embassies and cultural centres abroad, people trafficking would be rendered useless, especially if the EU makes that clear to the appropriate people.
Thursday, 6 September 2007
Remarkable deaths
This week has seen three stories in the press concerning three totally separate yet remarkable people who died in circumstances distinct from each other. But all three are worthy of mentioning simply because of the uplifting stories behind their deaths.
Rhys Jones
In the city of Liverpool this week, mourners have been paying their last respects to the boy who was shot dead by a hooded man riding a BMX bike through the area of Croxteth Park. Rhys was a supporter of Everton FC and mad about his football. It has shocked the community of Liverpool and brought about a collective period of inner reflection in the city. In a sign of solidarity, Liverpool FC, the deadly rivals of Rhys's beloved team, invited his parents to Anfield on match day where he received a minute's applause from the crowd, following the playing of the Everton theme tune. An Everton fan getting a minute's applause at Liverpool FC is striking enough, but thousands of people came to his funeral where the parents asked everyone to dress in bright colours. Most put on their football colours to attend the service at Liverpool's Anglican Cathedral, where members of Everton's first team were also present.
This collective mass of solidarity has made a mockery of those who would turn to crime for their kicks. The far larger amount of decent people come out against violent crime through this type of collective action, yet still those who enjoy criminal lives do not listen. Nevertheless, decent folk will always outnumber the bad eggs.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/merseyside/6980996.stm
Jane Tomlinson
Across the Pennines in Leeds, Jane Tomlinson had a seven-year battle with breast cancer. Nothing remarkable so far. Except that seven years earlier, she was given just six months to live. I haven't finished yet though. Jane didn't just sit down awaiting the Big Day: she decided to make the most of her time left on this planet by raising money for charity. By running marathons, half-marathons, triathlons and even the Iron Man, where she became the first cancer patient ever to complete it. She set about doing other such things, like spending 63 days crossing the United States from San Francisco to New York City on a bike. After her second London Marathon, she went back to work as a radiographer. That was only days after cycling from Land's End to John O'Groats. She won some of the highest awards - BBC Sports Personality of the Year Helen Rollason Award for outstanding bravery, the Sunday Times Sportswoman of the Year, and was awarded a CBE in the Queen's Birthday Honours this year.
Jane always thought she was an ordinary person but the truth is she brought happiness to a lot of people through her charity work. Even near the end, in June of this year, she organised a 10km road race in her home city of Leeds. Such was her appeal, the race was attended by about ten thousand competitors. She was too ill to race herself then, but she came along and started the event, watching from a raised platform. Despite Jane Tomlinson's worry that it would not be successful, the event is set to become a permanent fixture in the city.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/2585103.stm
Luciano Pavarotti
Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma! Tu pure, o Principessa,
Nella tua fredda stanza
Guardi le stelle
Che tremano d'amore e di speranza.
Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,
Il nome mio nessun saprà!
Solo quando la luce splenderà,
Sulla tua bocca lo dirò fremente!
Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silenzio
Che ti fa mia!
Il nome suo nessun saprà
E noi dovremo, ahimè, morir!
Il principe ignoto
Dilegua, o notte! Tramontate, stelle! Tramontate stelle!
All'alba vincerò!
It is hard to find out that someone who gave you one of the most memorable moments of your life is no longer, but Luciano Pavarotti was indeed a member of that list for me. When I was sixteen and enjoyed the music of the time, I was still drawn to the haunting voice and the larger-than-life personality of Luciano Pavarotti. The summer of the World Cup in Italy in 1990 was one of the longest, which I spent with my visiting uncle and his opera music. The BBC had made Nessun Dorma its theme tune for the tournament and by the end of the first round I was knew the lyrics, as you see above. The BBC's theme tune became the tournament's anthem not just in the UK, so when the Three Tenors (Pavarotti, Domingo and Carreras) said they were going to put on a show the night before the final, the whole family tuned in to watch the show. In fact, I think there were just as many viewers for that event as for the final. And what an event it was, in the floodlit ruins of old Rome.
Pavarotti was born in Modena in humble surroundings but his talent for singing meant his future was secure. His father had a talent for singing too, but turned down the chance due to stage fright, something which his son definitely did not have. In his life, he visited all corners of the planet bringing opera to the people. He got his money from the toffee-nosed upper class, but he did not forget ordinary folk. He was involved in humanitarian work in Bosnia, Kosovo, Guatemala, Armenia and Iraq, and even crashed a U2 concert in Dublin to ask the band to play at his annual "Pavarotti and Friends" charity event in his home town. He set up a music centre in Mostar, Bosnia, specifically to bring about peace through music and the United Nations made him a Messenger of Peace, involving tackling child exploitation, poverty and HIV/AIDS.
He had his share of scandals, including leaving his wife of 35 years for another, younger woman, and was in all but name denounced by the Italian people for tax irregularities. However, despite this backdrop he remained a person of the people, a showman and a double world record holder - 165 curtain calls being one (!!!) and the biggest selling classical record of all time. Although the estimated crowd of half a million in New York for a concert in 1993 is probably also a record.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/1581651.stm
Three remarkable people, three reasons why the world is a sadder place today.
May they rest in peace.
Rhys Jones
In the city of Liverpool this week, mourners have been paying their last respects to the boy who was shot dead by a hooded man riding a BMX bike through the area of Croxteth Park. Rhys was a supporter of Everton FC and mad about his football. It has shocked the community of Liverpool and brought about a collective period of inner reflection in the city. In a sign of solidarity, Liverpool FC, the deadly rivals of Rhys's beloved team, invited his parents to Anfield on match day where he received a minute's applause from the crowd, following the playing of the Everton theme tune. An Everton fan getting a minute's applause at Liverpool FC is striking enough, but thousands of people came to his funeral where the parents asked everyone to dress in bright colours. Most put on their football colours to attend the service at Liverpool's Anglican Cathedral, where members of Everton's first team were also present.
This collective mass of solidarity has made a mockery of those who would turn to crime for their kicks. The far larger amount of decent people come out against violent crime through this type of collective action, yet still those who enjoy criminal lives do not listen. Nevertheless, decent folk will always outnumber the bad eggs.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/merseyside/6980996.stm
Jane Tomlinson
Across the Pennines in Leeds, Jane Tomlinson had a seven-year battle with breast cancer. Nothing remarkable so far. Except that seven years earlier, she was given just six months to live. I haven't finished yet though. Jane didn't just sit down awaiting the Big Day: she decided to make the most of her time left on this planet by raising money for charity. By running marathons, half-marathons, triathlons and even the Iron Man, where she became the first cancer patient ever to complete it. She set about doing other such things, like spending 63 days crossing the United States from San Francisco to New York City on a bike. After her second London Marathon, she went back to work as a radiographer. That was only days after cycling from Land's End to John O'Groats. She won some of the highest awards - BBC Sports Personality of the Year Helen Rollason Award for outstanding bravery, the Sunday Times Sportswoman of the Year, and was awarded a CBE in the Queen's Birthday Honours this year.
Jane always thought she was an ordinary person but the truth is she brought happiness to a lot of people through her charity work. Even near the end, in June of this year, she organised a 10km road race in her home city of Leeds. Such was her appeal, the race was attended by about ten thousand competitors. She was too ill to race herself then, but she came along and started the event, watching from a raised platform. Despite Jane Tomlinson's worry that it would not be successful, the event is set to become a permanent fixture in the city.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/2585103.stm
Luciano Pavarotti
Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma! Tu pure, o Principessa,
Nella tua fredda stanza
Guardi le stelle
Che tremano d'amore e di speranza.
Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,
Il nome mio nessun saprà!
Solo quando la luce splenderà,
Sulla tua bocca lo dirò fremente!
Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silenzio
Che ti fa mia!
Il nome suo nessun saprà
E noi dovremo, ahimè, morir!
Il principe ignoto
Dilegua, o notte! Tramontate, stelle! Tramontate stelle!
All'alba vincerò!
It is hard to find out that someone who gave you one of the most memorable moments of your life is no longer, but Luciano Pavarotti was indeed a member of that list for me. When I was sixteen and enjoyed the music of the time, I was still drawn to the haunting voice and the larger-than-life personality of Luciano Pavarotti. The summer of the World Cup in Italy in 1990 was one of the longest, which I spent with my visiting uncle and his opera music. The BBC had made Nessun Dorma its theme tune for the tournament and by the end of the first round I was knew the lyrics, as you see above. The BBC's theme tune became the tournament's anthem not just in the UK, so when the Three Tenors (Pavarotti, Domingo and Carreras) said they were going to put on a show the night before the final, the whole family tuned in to watch the show. In fact, I think there were just as many viewers for that event as for the final. And what an event it was, in the floodlit ruins of old Rome.
Pavarotti was born in Modena in humble surroundings but his talent for singing meant his future was secure. His father had a talent for singing too, but turned down the chance due to stage fright, something which his son definitely did not have. In his life, he visited all corners of the planet bringing opera to the people. He got his money from the toffee-nosed upper class, but he did not forget ordinary folk. He was involved in humanitarian work in Bosnia, Kosovo, Guatemala, Armenia and Iraq, and even crashed a U2 concert in Dublin to ask the band to play at his annual "Pavarotti and Friends" charity event in his home town. He set up a music centre in Mostar, Bosnia, specifically to bring about peace through music and the United Nations made him a Messenger of Peace, involving tackling child exploitation, poverty and HIV/AIDS.
He had his share of scandals, including leaving his wife of 35 years for another, younger woman, and was in all but name denounced by the Italian people for tax irregularities. However, despite this backdrop he remained a person of the people, a showman and a double world record holder - 165 curtain calls being one (!!!) and the biggest selling classical record of all time. Although the estimated crowd of half a million in New York for a concert in 1993 is probably also a record.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/1581651.stm
Three remarkable people, three reasons why the world is a sadder place today.
May they rest in peace.
Saturday, 1 September 2007
Greetings from La Serenissima
So I haven’t written much recently… I’ve been pretty busy this summer giving intensive courses and the weather was so bad I didn’t mind too much. However I’ve got a month off so I decided to go to Venice for a while and do some work on my book. That hasn’t worked either as the person I have come with doesn’t have the ability to walk into a museum alone so I have to go everywhere. Still, there’s a lot to see here if you don’t mind the appalling manners of the tourists. I kind of sympathise with the Venetians – it must be quite a frustrating life coming out of your own house and being swept away by a group of foreigners. But Venetians are a noble race of people and wonderfully tolerant.
I knew it was going to be special when I stepped off the airplane and even before going through to luggage collection smelled the invisible yet overpowering aroma of mother’s cooking. That for me was a special moment – just getting off the plane and the “Welcome to Italy” sign had been replaced with the smell of home cooking.
I have many Italian students and I could never understand why they were so naïve about food. Many of them have barely tried food from outside Italy, let alone great cuisines like Chinese, Indian and northern European. So I wanted to find out why. This was another reason for my trip here, to see why Italians are such gastro-snobs. Yet having spent eight days here, I have come to appreciate that they might have a point. It is of course no reason to avoid other cuisines, and I still find it such a shame to be so parochial in your food tastes, but you can actually understand why.
When you see the food in the shops, when you see the perfection of the presentation of the meal on the plate before you, it really puts some other places to shame. And furthermore, they hardly import. All the fruit is Mediterranean, all the meat is local, and all the vegetables are from neighbouring regions. And therefore the milk tastes not of thickened water but of milk, the fish tastes not of ammonia but of fish, the red peppers taste of red peppers, not of preservative. The meat is the same size when you take it out of the pan as when it was dropped in there, the wine fills your nostrils as much as it wets your mouth, and even the bread has a flavour and consistency to it superior to our stiff and hole-ridden baguettes. Over all, everything tastes like it should. For that reason I can’t understand why we have allowed our food standards to deteriorate simply for cheapness and rapidity of sale.
http://www.goslitski.net/template.cfm?action=gastronomy
So what are the essential tips for Venice?
Firstly, don’t be hypnotised by the Venice Card they sell first-time visitors over the Net for about 100 euro. Work out where you’re going to go and entry prices and compare it to what reductions or free entries you might get with the card. The first rule of a holiday is: never plan!
Secondly, obey local habits and try to integrate – you’ll be treated like a local then: walk on the right hand side of the narrow streets and alleys, learn some Italian, wear decent clothes, don’t stand on the bridges ogling your map, and don’t drop litter.
Thirdly, remember this is Italy. I can’t count the amount of people I saw buying fast food but to me that would be an insult. Would you go to Belgium and drink Heineken? No. Well in Italy you would do well to try as much of the local produce as you can. But don’t follow guide book suggestions as they’re mostly paid by the establishments to advertise. We came across a group of French schoolchildren who were hanging round the embankment at the Fondamenta Nova, chatting and running about. It was evident their teachers had let them loose for the evening to explore the city and they had just decided to encamp themselves on the promenade. But it got worse. The owner of the trattoria where we were said they had been there all day. Imagine going to a city like Venice and only sitting on the bank chatting to the same people who you can see every day of the year...? And then four of them said they were going off to look for a McDonald's. I choked on an olive.
On this note though I would like to point out one particular Trattoria called Al Vecio Portal, close to San Zaccaria. The garden out back is serene and gets nice and dark at night, but let’s move away from the cliché stuff and concentrate on the menu. It’s not a very big menu, but that’s because they do it with love. Any menu which has more than three pages of food is offering too much to be of any quality. The fish is the greatest thing on the menu and the waiter fillets it in front of you. I watched him doing it in the garden at ten at night on Friday. Now that’d turn a lot of women on: imagine being able to say you can de-bone a fish in the dark… A couple of other things on the menu to point out are the rustic starter and the fragola: a creamy fruit dish which will just precipitate those “desires” one gets after dinner in a place like Venice.
My favourite part of Venice are the less touristy areas around the Arsenale and Cannaregio. There are some wonderful places to sit day or night and get away from the tourists, who insist on conglomerating in the area between the Rialto Bridge and St Mark’s Square. I would like to point you in the direction of the Church of Madonna dell'Orto, and close by is the church of Sant'Alvise, which both have more history that entire Belgian towns. Tintoretto is buried in one of the churches - I won't tell you which, because I'd hope you'd visit both, but when you look around that particular church, it makes you wonder about the dedication and discipline of the artists of that time.
A couple of days ago I visited the Doge’s Palace, expecting a collection of dusty old relics and some paintings. That’s what was there, but a thousand times more glorious. The most overwhelming sensations of my life took place in the Notre Dame in Paris, St Paul’s Cathedral in London, Rouen Cathedral and the Thistle Chapel in Edinburgh, but I got the mini-shakes in the Sala del Maggio Consiglio in the Doge’s Palace. It is enormous. One of the biggest rooms in the world, it is 54 metres long and about 25 metres wide. You could hold a cricket match in there. And the works of art on the walls were breathtaking. As for the rest of the palace, be careful of the vampires in curators’ outfits circling round you, whose only job it seems, is to stop you from taking photos, so that we spend more money in their shop. Well I can tell you no bespectacled curator is going to stop me from taking home a photo of a Tintoretto masterpiece. I held my camera round my neck and took photos from chest height. Luckily my sense of orientation is passable, so I got some pretty good ones in there. If you do intend going to the Doge’s Palace, get your tickets in advance or you can wait a good hour to get in. A Venice Pass is handy in this instance.
One thing about Venice is the parochial feel you get from living in a city on an island. OK, there are lots of tourists but they go away after a few days, never to return. The side streets and squares where local people live are full of life at certain times of the day, then suddenly they’re sweeping up – usually about three in the afternoon – ready for siesta. This place is simply so internationally known and yet it is just like any other city where people live on top of each other. The kids play football against the walls of the squares, the parents sit peacefully sipping latte macchiato knowing someone is not going to get away from the scene so quickly with their children, and the streets are positively thick with the smell of nonna’s cooking.
I took a trip to Murano, an island not far from Venice and went round the shops looking at the various glass objects for sale. It is a nice island for visiting but forget buying anything more than earrings or a small vase unless you’ve emptied the contents of your savings account. Not far from there is the island of San Michele, where Venice’s dead are interred. Some very interesting people are buried there too – Sir Ashley Clarke, British Ambassador to Italy in the fifties and sixties and founder of the Venice In Peril fund, Ezra Pound, Igor Stravinsky and Joseph Brodsky. San Michele’s cemetery is divided up into denominations, and the Protestant part (called "accattolico" - acatholic - by the cemetery staff) is the most neglected. A shame really, as the people in there are the most interesting, and it’s probably the most visited section.
In any case, Venice is really worth a visit if you like good food, architecture, walking, art, boats, clothes, jewellery and photography. I have taken more than a thousand photos here and I’m sure some of them will be found in my upcoming exhibition in the autumn and on my website. I'm off to Prague on Monday but I will be back on Wednesday and then I promise to write more often.
I knew it was going to be special when I stepped off the airplane and even before going through to luggage collection smelled the invisible yet overpowering aroma of mother’s cooking. That for me was a special moment – just getting off the plane and the “Welcome to Italy” sign had been replaced with the smell of home cooking.
I have many Italian students and I could never understand why they were so naïve about food. Many of them have barely tried food from outside Italy, let alone great cuisines like Chinese, Indian and northern European. So I wanted to find out why. This was another reason for my trip here, to see why Italians are such gastro-snobs. Yet having spent eight days here, I have come to appreciate that they might have a point. It is of course no reason to avoid other cuisines, and I still find it such a shame to be so parochial in your food tastes, but you can actually understand why.
When you see the food in the shops, when you see the perfection of the presentation of the meal on the plate before you, it really puts some other places to shame. And furthermore, they hardly import. All the fruit is Mediterranean, all the meat is local, and all the vegetables are from neighbouring regions. And therefore the milk tastes not of thickened water but of milk, the fish tastes not of ammonia but of fish, the red peppers taste of red peppers, not of preservative. The meat is the same size when you take it out of the pan as when it was dropped in there, the wine fills your nostrils as much as it wets your mouth, and even the bread has a flavour and consistency to it superior to our stiff and hole-ridden baguettes. Over all, everything tastes like it should. For that reason I can’t understand why we have allowed our food standards to deteriorate simply for cheapness and rapidity of sale.
http://www.goslitski.net/template.cfm?action=gastronomy
So what are the essential tips for Venice?
Firstly, don’t be hypnotised by the Venice Card they sell first-time visitors over the Net for about 100 euro. Work out where you’re going to go and entry prices and compare it to what reductions or free entries you might get with the card. The first rule of a holiday is: never plan!
Secondly, obey local habits and try to integrate – you’ll be treated like a local then: walk on the right hand side of the narrow streets and alleys, learn some Italian, wear decent clothes, don’t stand on the bridges ogling your map, and don’t drop litter.
Thirdly, remember this is Italy. I can’t count the amount of people I saw buying fast food but to me that would be an insult. Would you go to Belgium and drink Heineken? No. Well in Italy you would do well to try as much of the local produce as you can. But don’t follow guide book suggestions as they’re mostly paid by the establishments to advertise. We came across a group of French schoolchildren who were hanging round the embankment at the Fondamenta Nova, chatting and running about. It was evident their teachers had let them loose for the evening to explore the city and they had just decided to encamp themselves on the promenade. But it got worse. The owner of the trattoria where we were said they had been there all day. Imagine going to a city like Venice and only sitting on the bank chatting to the same people who you can see every day of the year...? And then four of them said they were going off to look for a McDonald's. I choked on an olive.
On this note though I would like to point out one particular Trattoria called Al Vecio Portal, close to San Zaccaria. The garden out back is serene and gets nice and dark at night, but let’s move away from the cliché stuff and concentrate on the menu. It’s not a very big menu, but that’s because they do it with love. Any menu which has more than three pages of food is offering too much to be of any quality. The fish is the greatest thing on the menu and the waiter fillets it in front of you. I watched him doing it in the garden at ten at night on Friday. Now that’d turn a lot of women on: imagine being able to say you can de-bone a fish in the dark… A couple of other things on the menu to point out are the rustic starter and the fragola: a creamy fruit dish which will just precipitate those “desires” one gets after dinner in a place like Venice.
My favourite part of Venice are the less touristy areas around the Arsenale and Cannaregio. There are some wonderful places to sit day or night and get away from the tourists, who insist on conglomerating in the area between the Rialto Bridge and St Mark’s Square. I would like to point you in the direction of the Church of Madonna dell'Orto, and close by is the church of Sant'Alvise, which both have more history that entire Belgian towns. Tintoretto is buried in one of the churches - I won't tell you which, because I'd hope you'd visit both, but when you look around that particular church, it makes you wonder about the dedication and discipline of the artists of that time.
A couple of days ago I visited the Doge’s Palace, expecting a collection of dusty old relics and some paintings. That’s what was there, but a thousand times more glorious. The most overwhelming sensations of my life took place in the Notre Dame in Paris, St Paul’s Cathedral in London, Rouen Cathedral and the Thistle Chapel in Edinburgh, but I got the mini-shakes in the Sala del Maggio Consiglio in the Doge’s Palace. It is enormous. One of the biggest rooms in the world, it is 54 metres long and about 25 metres wide. You could hold a cricket match in there. And the works of art on the walls were breathtaking. As for the rest of the palace, be careful of the vampires in curators’ outfits circling round you, whose only job it seems, is to stop you from taking photos, so that we spend more money in their shop. Well I can tell you no bespectacled curator is going to stop me from taking home a photo of a Tintoretto masterpiece. I held my camera round my neck and took photos from chest height. Luckily my sense of orientation is passable, so I got some pretty good ones in there. If you do intend going to the Doge’s Palace, get your tickets in advance or you can wait a good hour to get in. A Venice Pass is handy in this instance.
One thing about Venice is the parochial feel you get from living in a city on an island. OK, there are lots of tourists but they go away after a few days, never to return. The side streets and squares where local people live are full of life at certain times of the day, then suddenly they’re sweeping up – usually about three in the afternoon – ready for siesta. This place is simply so internationally known and yet it is just like any other city where people live on top of each other. The kids play football against the walls of the squares, the parents sit peacefully sipping latte macchiato knowing someone is not going to get away from the scene so quickly with their children, and the streets are positively thick with the smell of nonna’s cooking.
I took a trip to Murano, an island not far from Venice and went round the shops looking at the various glass objects for sale. It is a nice island for visiting but forget buying anything more than earrings or a small vase unless you’ve emptied the contents of your savings account. Not far from there is the island of San Michele, where Venice’s dead are interred. Some very interesting people are buried there too – Sir Ashley Clarke, British Ambassador to Italy in the fifties and sixties and founder of the Venice In Peril fund, Ezra Pound, Igor Stravinsky and Joseph Brodsky. San Michele’s cemetery is divided up into denominations, and the Protestant part (called "accattolico" - acatholic - by the cemetery staff) is the most neglected. A shame really, as the people in there are the most interesting, and it’s probably the most visited section.
In any case, Venice is really worth a visit if you like good food, architecture, walking, art, boats, clothes, jewellery and photography. I have taken more than a thousand photos here and I’m sure some of them will be found in my upcoming exhibition in the autumn and on my website. I'm off to Prague on Monday but I will be back on Wednesday and then I promise to write more often.
Monday, 13 August 2007
Night Clubs? I'd rather read a book!
I went to town the other day for a concert in the Old Market. It was really nice - people filled the square and the atmosphere was great. The acoustics in the Old Market in Leuven are unbelievably good. What makes it the concert goer's place of choice are the 36 bars and cafés all round the side of it. However, attention was soon brought on one particular café which likes to label itself as a rock venue. They decided to have their own little music in there, despite it being no less than 100 metres from the stage. Those standing near the place kept complaining about the lack of respect, the high level of noise and the blablabla, but to no avail. When the police came along, they said they could do nothing because it was within the decibel limits of the centre of town.
Do what???
In the end the people standing round that area moved to the other side of the square and the concert carried on regardless. At the end I decided to go inside. I was offered to buy a drink. I declined. When they asked me why, and paying customers alone were allowed in, I said that as they had penetrated the concert without being invited, so I had entered their café in the same manner. I went to the bathroom while in there and took a beer mat. They felt rather indignant. It also meant that the following concert the day after was actually a much more audible affair.
But it is a wider thing than just that - the emoes who choose to stand in a night club listening to deafening music and shouting at people they barely know seem to have all missed the point. Firstly listening to music is about enjoying it. Dancing is supposed to be a healthy activity. And finally, attitudes of people in there extend outside, to buses, High Streets and even homes.
These individuals try to look and act "cool".
I'll tell you how cool these people are: apart from being the perfect adverts for bringing back social skills classes in school, these badly developed neo-embryos have very difficult lives ahead of them. Those who go deaf from the over-exposure to many decibels of bass will undoubtedly find it difficult to interact in the future. Those who have to shout over the noise will take their habits out with them, especially as they also will be talking to deaf people. The testosterone and adrenaline built up in there will become an addiction leading to greater levels of thrill requirements. As these people are generally parked by their parents at an early age in front of the television or Playstation in order for their co-creators (parents is too strong a word) to have a quiet life, these devices take over their roles. Their friends become role-models and performers their idols. Imagine Snoop Dogg is your son's ideal dinner companion... Or worse, your daughter's.
If I really wanted the experience of a night club without going, I could always take the following steps:
- Lick out an ashtray - has the effect of French kissing someone in there but doesn't give you any sores on the lips afterwards.
- Picnic beside runway 2 at Heathrow Airport - the noise level should be fairly comparable to a night club, but I don't have to listen to awful "music".
- Give your favourite charity 50 euro - that's how much you'd lose, but in this case it'll go towards something beneficial, not the mafioso who runs the joint.
Besides, what can a night club give me that will improve my life? Please answer, I'd love to know!
Tuesday, 17 July 2007
Something is rotten in the state of Russia
I have been a few times to Russia and found the place to be a mix of glory and hopelessness. People would moan about their circumstances on the one hand but on the other find happiness in far more interesting pastimes than we have here. With Russians you can talk about everything. They are intelligent, educated (mostly) and very welcoming people. But they just have one main flaw. They never question their leadership, even when that dipsomaniac Yeltsin was there. The foreign policy of Russia was holy to them - their politicians blindly revered and their actions always cheered. Russians will not see anything wrong in their government's recent behaviour towards Estonia, Ukraine or Georgia. They are, after all, Mother Russia, the centre of the earth and the only real country that matters. The Soviet Union might be dead, but the territories around it are still claimed by its people, especially those living there.
Stalin had a policy to keep the USSR together forever. One strand of that policy was to deport people to different parts of the USSR in an effort to bind the people to each other. There were Georgians in Siberia, Kazaks in Lithuania and Armenians in Moscow. But in the late 20th century and even more so now, it has made the ethnic groups more polarised than ever. What is the most striking point about it all is that most Russians do not bother to learn the language of the sovereign state they now find themselves in. A sizeable population of Russians can be found in the Baltic states, and they argue for the reconstitution of those independent nations to Russia, or the establishment of Russian as an official language.
Another strand of Stalin's policy was to make the manufacture of products more intra-national. So as soon as the USSR broke up, it became almost impossible even to build a television set there. The screen might be manufactured in Tadjikistan, the knobs and connections in Latvia, the internal parts in Uzbekistan and the frame in Novosibirsk before being put together in an assembly unit in Kaluga.
This blind-leading-the blind (or leading-the-blinded) attitude has caused untold ethnic problems in the Russian mindset, to the extent that they seem to blame Western Europe, NATO and the US for their isolation today. It has never occurred to them that in fact the EU has been trying to bring them closer, that NATO wants co-operation and the US would like to make Russia a main trading partner. Nor does it occur to them that they could have a far bigger and better say in world politics if they would stop acting so hurt by surrounding countries' alignment to the EU and similar bodies.
To cry wolf over Georgia was one thing. To then do it to Ukraine smacked of sour grapes, but Estonia, a fully paid-up member of the EU, was childish and spiteful. All over the repositioning of a Soviet war memorial. Estonia does not want to be reminded of its oppressed past. Its people are forward-thinking and independent-minded. But now the Russians are getting on a major EU, NATO, UN and Commonwealth country, Britain. The repercussions are enormous. I hope nothing too dramatic comes of the latest Russian toy-throwing rant, and I don't think it will. Everyone has too much to lose, but serious consequences could follow. Russia may have put its reliability as a provider of energy back ten years. Countries will think twice before importing gas, preferring to go to a less volatile supplier. Would Korea stop supplying cars to your country if its government was upset by something your leader did? Or even said?
As for the British government, it used to be quite resolute on these matters under Prime Ministers from Margaret Thatcher and back. Since then there has been a half-hearted response to diplomacy. But in this case you get the feeling that someone is going to stand up to the belligerence. Gordon Brown seems like the type of PM who won't take fools lightly. And David Miliband is a straight-talking Foreign Minister with a great deal of substance and resolve. Listening to him on BBC this weekend he never avoided a question with long-winded rhetoric, the tradition of the past. The Gordon Brown government has shown itself to be inspirational, capable and no-nonsense. I cannot see it rolling over to get its tummy tickled. And with the Germans suffering a similar incident this week, Russia has the ball in its court. However the Germans don't want to rock the boat because they're in too deeply with Russia already. France, meanwhile, has stuck its neck out and told them a thing or two about etiquette. Vive la France!
Furthermore, the Russians have delayed their reaction already 36 hours (at the time of writing) since a UK newspaper revealed that Mr Berezovsky was victim of an attempted assassination in the last few weeks. Boy, they must be feeling a little bruised...
And what will this response be? Either the Russians will totally close off their embassy in London which will mean it will be hard for UK nationals to go there and vice-versa, or they are right now going around all the Russian companies telling them to pull out of the UK or they will be classed as traitors.
UPDATE THURSDAY 19th JULY:
So the Russians' response is to expel four British diplomats... Come on Vlad, show us your nasty side - you know you want to ;-)
Stalin had a policy to keep the USSR together forever. One strand of that policy was to deport people to different parts of the USSR in an effort to bind the people to each other. There were Georgians in Siberia, Kazaks in Lithuania and Armenians in Moscow. But in the late 20th century and even more so now, it has made the ethnic groups more polarised than ever. What is the most striking point about it all is that most Russians do not bother to learn the language of the sovereign state they now find themselves in. A sizeable population of Russians can be found in the Baltic states, and they argue for the reconstitution of those independent nations to Russia, or the establishment of Russian as an official language.
Another strand of Stalin's policy was to make the manufacture of products more intra-national. So as soon as the USSR broke up, it became almost impossible even to build a television set there. The screen might be manufactured in Tadjikistan, the knobs and connections in Latvia, the internal parts in Uzbekistan and the frame in Novosibirsk before being put together in an assembly unit in Kaluga.
This blind-leading-the blind (or leading-the-blinded) attitude has caused untold ethnic problems in the Russian mindset, to the extent that they seem to blame Western Europe, NATO and the US for their isolation today. It has never occurred to them that in fact the EU has been trying to bring them closer, that NATO wants co-operation and the US would like to make Russia a main trading partner. Nor does it occur to them that they could have a far bigger and better say in world politics if they would stop acting so hurt by surrounding countries' alignment to the EU and similar bodies.
To cry wolf over Georgia was one thing. To then do it to Ukraine smacked of sour grapes, but Estonia, a fully paid-up member of the EU, was childish and spiteful. All over the repositioning of a Soviet war memorial. Estonia does not want to be reminded of its oppressed past. Its people are forward-thinking and independent-minded. But now the Russians are getting on a major EU, NATO, UN and Commonwealth country, Britain. The repercussions are enormous. I hope nothing too dramatic comes of the latest Russian toy-throwing rant, and I don't think it will. Everyone has too much to lose, but serious consequences could follow. Russia may have put its reliability as a provider of energy back ten years. Countries will think twice before importing gas, preferring to go to a less volatile supplier. Would Korea stop supplying cars to your country if its government was upset by something your leader did? Or even said?
As for the British government, it used to be quite resolute on these matters under Prime Ministers from Margaret Thatcher and back. Since then there has been a half-hearted response to diplomacy. But in this case you get the feeling that someone is going to stand up to the belligerence. Gordon Brown seems like the type of PM who won't take fools lightly. And David Miliband is a straight-talking Foreign Minister with a great deal of substance and resolve. Listening to him on BBC this weekend he never avoided a question with long-winded rhetoric, the tradition of the past. The Gordon Brown government has shown itself to be inspirational, capable and no-nonsense. I cannot see it rolling over to get its tummy tickled. And with the Germans suffering a similar incident this week, Russia has the ball in its court. However the Germans don't want to rock the boat because they're in too deeply with Russia already. France, meanwhile, has stuck its neck out and told them a thing or two about etiquette. Vive la France!
Furthermore, the Russians have delayed their reaction already 36 hours (at the time of writing) since a UK newspaper revealed that Mr Berezovsky was victim of an attempted assassination in the last few weeks. Boy, they must be feeling a little bruised...
And what will this response be? Either the Russians will totally close off their embassy in London which will mean it will be hard for UK nationals to go there and vice-versa, or they are right now going around all the Russian companies telling them to pull out of the UK or they will be classed as traitors.
UPDATE THURSDAY 19th JULY:
So the Russians' response is to expel four British diplomats... Come on Vlad, show us your nasty side - you know you want to ;-)
Tuesday, 10 July 2007
Sports mad Brits do it again
The UK is arguably the epicentre of sport spectatorship, but this weekend it took a giant leap towards being true. The men's final of Wimbledon, the Formula 1 Grand Prix at Silverstone and that annual anabolic carousel, the Tour de France, all took place in the country over the same weekend. An estimated four million people lined the streets of London and Kent as the cyclists flashed through at lightning speed, past the street parties, garden tea gatherings, village fêtes and town centre carnivals. Once they had all gone through (don't blink, or you'll miss it), people went back to their celebrations thinking "what was that all about?" But still, the longest annual sporting event had passed through their place. It was the best attended and most enthusiastically greeted "Grand Départ" ever according to the world press. Ken Livingstone said it would definitely come back to the UK within the next few years, and as it went so well he didn't think they'd have to lobby very hard. Imagine, even the race organiser was lost for words. It took a lot of courage for him to declare London the start of the 2007 race so soon after Paris lost the 2012 Olympic bid, and my hat goes off to him for doing it.
Up at Silverstone, the deafening noise of the cars was drowned out by the earth-shattering sounds of spectators' horns greeting the Finnish Ferrari driver Kimi Raikkonen. Another quarter-million people in and around the place going mad over yet another podium finish for Lewis Hamilton, F1's brightest young star.
Deep in London's leafy suburb of Wimbledon, the usually tepid crowd is whooping like Texans at a barbecue because a Brit, Jamie Murray, has won the mixed doubles with his Slavic partner Jelena Jankovic. It is the last game to be played there this year in the weird-looking roofless Centre Court.
That was just this weekend. But all through the summer Brits take to the stands at cricket matches, golf tournaments, rowing regattas, athletics meetings, even darts competitions. It seems that the British number one hobby is spectating at sports events. And who can blame them? They organise them so well. Take the London Marathon. Not only is it the most watched city marathon of the year, it is also the most oversubscribed. For the simple reason that Brits have a penchant for being a little mad. You see, they don't only take part in it to say they've run 26 miles or indeed because they want to keep fit. The British love to raise money for good causes. They dress up in Roman soldier outfits or as a camel with two people in the same suit, or they play a musical instrument as they run round London collecting sponsorship money for all types of charities, from leukaemia to a damaged church roof. And the locals come out to cheer these eccentric runners on. Marvellous.
In Belgium there is something called the "Dodentocht", or "March of the Dead" which takes place every year from Bornem. The aim is to go 100 kilometres around Flanders in 24 hours. Nice idea, except that many just do it for the hell of it. If it was in the UK, they would feel ashamed if they didn't do it for charity.
In the Summer Olympic Games over the last decade and a half, the highest amount of non-local spectators was British. This was one of the deciding factors in awarding the 2012 Games to London. And it deserves them. London was made for sport and sport was made for London. I for one can't wait for 2012, where I will make a prediction: the largest gathering of people in Europe was an estimated 5 million for the Pope's funeral in April 2005. Second was Princess Diana's funeral in 1997, which attracted 3 million. The largest gathering of people in a European city for a non-political event or a funeral was the Queen's Golden Jubilee in 2003, with an estimated 1.5 million people on the streets. The most amount of tickets sold for an Olympic Games ever was 8.3 million in Atlanta in 1996. I am convinced these records will all be broken in 2012.
Up at Silverstone, the deafening noise of the cars was drowned out by the earth-shattering sounds of spectators' horns greeting the Finnish Ferrari driver Kimi Raikkonen. Another quarter-million people in and around the place going mad over yet another podium finish for Lewis Hamilton, F1's brightest young star.
Deep in London's leafy suburb of Wimbledon, the usually tepid crowd is whooping like Texans at a barbecue because a Brit, Jamie Murray, has won the mixed doubles with his Slavic partner Jelena Jankovic. It is the last game to be played there this year in the weird-looking roofless Centre Court.
That was just this weekend. But all through the summer Brits take to the stands at cricket matches, golf tournaments, rowing regattas, athletics meetings, even darts competitions. It seems that the British number one hobby is spectating at sports events. And who can blame them? They organise them so well. Take the London Marathon. Not only is it the most watched city marathon of the year, it is also the most oversubscribed. For the simple reason that Brits have a penchant for being a little mad. You see, they don't only take part in it to say they've run 26 miles or indeed because they want to keep fit. The British love to raise money for good causes. They dress up in Roman soldier outfits or as a camel with two people in the same suit, or they play a musical instrument as they run round London collecting sponsorship money for all types of charities, from leukaemia to a damaged church roof. And the locals come out to cheer these eccentric runners on. Marvellous.
In Belgium there is something called the "Dodentocht", or "March of the Dead" which takes place every year from Bornem. The aim is to go 100 kilometres around Flanders in 24 hours. Nice idea, except that many just do it for the hell of it. If it was in the UK, they would feel ashamed if they didn't do it for charity.
In the Summer Olympic Games over the last decade and a half, the highest amount of non-local spectators was British. This was one of the deciding factors in awarding the 2012 Games to London. And it deserves them. London was made for sport and sport was made for London. I for one can't wait for 2012, where I will make a prediction: the largest gathering of people in Europe was an estimated 5 million for the Pope's funeral in April 2005. Second was Princess Diana's funeral in 1997, which attracted 3 million. The largest gathering of people in a European city for a non-political event or a funeral was the Queen's Golden Jubilee in 2003, with an estimated 1.5 million people on the streets. The most amount of tickets sold for an Olympic Games ever was 8.3 million in Atlanta in 1996. I am convinced these records will all be broken in 2012.
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