Monday 28 October 2013

My Life On Film

I recorded yesterday a film that I have admired for some time.

It so happens that it is a film shot on location on the island of Hoy in Orkney, the largest of the Orkney islands. It is separated from Orkney proper by Scapa Flow, an area of water that has for much of the 20th century been the location for the Home Fleet, very much the subject of this film, called The Spy In Black. It is an early work of Michael Powell, made in 1939 before he became better known as a filmmaker after he had teamed up with Emeric Pressburger. Powell and Pressburger films have become synonymous with quality British films, and many of their collaborations are considered among the finest of British films of their period.

When Michael Powell worked alone as a filmmaker, he was often fascinated with life in Scotland, and his personal output reflects this fascination.

This film is a good example, as it depicts accurately the life of people living in Orkney during the First World War, and the plot hinges around German attempts at placing a spy on the island.

In the event, this attempt fails miserably, as a counter-espionage plot means that numerous German submarines are sunk as a consequence of this failed attempt.

It is a fascinating film for me, as I am very familiar with the locations for the film, which is perhaps surprising, given that the area depicted is sparsely populated, and not perhaps a place commonly visited by tourists.

But it so happens that it is a part of Scotland with which I am very familiar, because for two years, I was responsible for the International Young Composers course, during which the composer Sir Peter Maxwell Davies invited young composers from across the world to spend a fortnight on his island home, learning from him by completing a composition that was performed by an ensemble of musicians from the Scottish Chamber Orchestra.

It so happened that I was the person responsible for organising that course, and for all of the arrangements that enabled it to take place.

As it was located on Sir Peter’s Island home, and since he lived close to The Old Man of Hoy, which is an important location in the film, this is unusually familiar to me as a location.

In the film, the German spy is intended to be the schoolteacher at Longhope, a small settlement at the eastern end of the island.

A small steamer delivers the schoolteacher to the island close to this settlement, and it is with some irony that I recognise the landing place, as it was the same landing stage at which an audience arrived to listen to the results of the composition course, held during the St Magnus Festival on the island of Orkney, of which Sir Peter was the patron.

And thus I would spend a fortnight or so myself at this end of the island, being hosted by a family that lived only a stones throw from that school house.

It is a fine film, and I am glad to add it to my collection.

Strangely, another film again that collection is a version of the Thomas Hardy novel, Jude.

Whilst I worked for the Scottish chamber Orchestra, I lived in Edinburgh, and it is a strange coincidence that the flat where I lived for three years, placed on the second floor of a block of four period apartments, was used as a location for that film.

In the story, Jude works as an apprentice stonemason, and the yard below my kitchen window, was used as the location for the stonemasons yard in the film.

In reality, it was a simple cobbled yard in which a garage provided services specifically to the owners of Citroen 2CVs, and strangely enough, I had cause to use this garage regularly, since I owned one of these vehicles.

And so, it is most peculiar to see this simple yard transformed into a set for this part of the film, but most gratifying to preserve this memory of my flat in Edinburgh.

I believe other parts of the film used Edinburgh for its locations, as it provides a wonderful period setting for an 18th-century town.

Wednesday 9 October 2013

An Unlikely Visionary

It doesn’t take much by way of learning about science, to have come into contact with Boyle’s Law.

What is less well known are some of the details of this man’s life.

When Robert Boyle died in London in 1691, he left behind in his personal papers an extraordinary document, which today is kept at the Royal Society of which Robert Boyle was a founding member.

It is a list of 24 things, almost unrelated until you appreciate something of the context of the man that Robert Boyle was.

Robert Boyle is remembered today as the founder of modern chemistry, and he is certainly remembered by his fundamental law, that every student of science will appreciate and understand.

This list that was found in his personal papers is a list of what Robert Boyle believed would be things that science would contribute to the world, and 22 of the 24 things mentioned have indeed come to pass.

When it is remembered that he was writing towards the end of the 17th century, and the list included things such as the notion that we would be able to swim like fishes, prolong life, and take to the air and fly, you can begin to appreciate how much of a visionary this man was.

It would be nice to think that we could all leave behind in our personal papers something for those surviving us that would be as prescient as this list has proven to be.

I don’t think this would ever be the case, and neither do I truly feel that this is a cause for any concern.

For we are all visionaries in our own way, although it is perhaps the case that few of us may never stand in the place from which we can communicate what it is that we may see in our visions.

It is as if we all have a place to stand, but those of us that can find it, and equally also find our voice, and an audience to hear us.

Are simply exceptionally rare, or lucky perhaps.

But somehow, learning about this extraordinary visionary man of his time, and of his visionary sense, I have found to be liberating and inspirational.

And all of this was presented in the context of one of the most enlightening documentaries that I have seen from the BBC, delivered by Prof Brian Cox, from Manchester University.

He is a physicist, and possesses the remarkable capacity to be able to communicate complex ideas in the simplest way, and in a way that is memorable.

Inspirational stuff.

Saturday 5 October 2013

Every Breath We Take

We take for granted. But perhaps we shouldn’t.

I’m not usually given to irrational concerns, but there is one concern I have which might be described as such.

But even a simple education in science will equip every person undertaking it with the straightforward knowledge of how much on a knife edge, is the fact that we live on a planet that has an oxygenated atmosphere, and perhaps more important, is able to retain it.

The sun we rightly consider to be the reason why we are all here, and in the latitude where I live, in the United Kingdom, I am able to benefit from temperate seasonal variations, neither too hot in summer, not too cold in winter.

If we did not have the protection of our magnetic poles, that same life giving Sun would quickly strip what atmosphere we have from our planet.

And soon to follow would be any trace of water in the oceans, which modern science tends to agree, has been the source of life itself.

And of course is the means by which water is recycled through weather systems so that in most parts of the world, sufficient fresh water falls so that it ultimately can become a source of life giving sustenance, for both plants and animals.

But much is wrong with those systems that sustain life on this planet.

And I would do not seem too cranky if I were to express concern at the rate at which vast forests are being destroyed, on a daily basis.

Quite simply, though it may have taken millions of years for these systems to have been generated, it is far too easy to imagine that we may be close to a tipping point, when sufficient has been broken of what is required for all of these interconnected things to begin not to work sufficiently.

It does not take someone with a Hollywood imagination to consider what outcomes might be likely.

It is all too straightforward to imagine the kinds of disasters that might come to pass before all of life became impossible as these systems begin not to work.

As I begin to write this blog, I make no apologies for sounding perhaps like some doomsday predictor, but as I outline these things, I begin to wonder if my fears are not as irrational as I might have imagined.

Perhaps we should all take some responsibility for not simply taking every breath for granted, and though it might seem unpalatable for the air that we breathe to become a taxable commodity, perhaps we might more seriously consider ways in which we can achieve some sense of stability in the manner with which we take advantage of this planet.

The alternative, quite simply, is unimaginable.