Sound Bites

Sound Bites by Ed Le Brocq
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Last book I read by this author was The Whole Notes - I liked it although sometimes I felt lost.
This time I got a strong impression that Sound Bites was targeted to a specific auditorium,
What auditorium?
I cannot say, definitely people familiar with current popular music - Madonna, Abba, Andre Rieu etc.
48 bites from some 4,000 years of music development.
Very good selection but... in most cases there were not bites, I could not feel the taste.
For me it was rather chaff.
In my opinion it would fit better on some youtube channel where we could hear Ed's pleasant voice nicely combined with selected music pieces.

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Unfinished Woman

Unfinished Woman: A Memoir by Robyn Davidson
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Strange and charming book, although difficult to say what it is about.
The solid ground should be autobiographical facts but they are not.
Robyn starts with spelling out doubts about credibility of our memory and memory of people who knew or met her.
Even the bare facts which could be verified, are not quite clear.
Of course I was curious what is her memory of time spent in London with Salman Rushdie. From other sources I know that she was his partner in London, I found a quite clear reference to Robyn in Satanic Verses.
In this case, Robyn in her book, makes a very sensible jink - she just mentions that she fell in love with a wonderful man and they spent 2 years together.
Also Robyn's Wikipedia page is extremely dry.
We have to rely on the book and I found it quite rewarding. Difficult to explain, I just felt charmed.

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Robots at ease

Few days ago unstoppable Google notified me that Agnieszka Pilat visited Melbourne with three robots to demonstrate their painting capabilities.

If painting then National Gallery of Victoria - NGV.
I started Googling: "NGV pilate..." - Google suggested - NGV pilates.

It was enough to distract me, so I followed this lead - results:
- pilates class (gymnastic exercises) on the roof of the gallery,
- Contrology - a sculpture of a board with legs and a fin performing Pilates exercises (note - this was the name used by Joseph Pilates when he invented his exercise technique.)
- Dream of Pilate's wife - engraving from 1874

STOP!
Contrology - time to take control of Google, I enquired "Agnieszka Pilat NGV".
Got her!

Source: Instagram.

Last Sunday, Melbournians could see the robots in action and watch in person an interview with Ms. Agnieszka.

3 o'clock, the very center of the city, what a crowd, traffic, chaos, confusion.
In front of the railway station, a homeless woman is sleeping carelessly on the ground.
A few steps further and I'm right in the middle of this crowd.
I must admit that it was a bit too much for me, I had maybe 150m to go, but after few steps I had had enough.

A calming interlude along the way, a bridge over the Yarra River...

In front of the gallery, a hand with a thumb pointing up encouraged me...

There was also a lot of traffic inside the gallery, free admission, various exhibitions, including those for children.

Only the sculptures of two proletarians brought some peace - only one could fit into the lens...

The interview with Mrs. Agnieszka took place in a huge hall, there were several rows of chairs at the front, then randomly placed chairs, stools, a bar counter, slight confusion.

I sat down in the second row of chairs, a slim blonde was sitting right in front of me, I also noticed yellow shoes, the same ones as in the photo at the beginning of the post...

Czy pani Agnieszka (Ms. Agnieszka)? - I asked in Polish.

Quite a surprise, but Ms. Agnieszka greeted me nicely, we talked for a while in Polish, then switched to English so as not to isolate us from the surroundings.

After a while, a highly titled interviewer approached us, time for the stage...

Unfortunately, this was a disappointment for me.

Firstly, there was a lot of noise in the hall,  secondly - talking through microphones, there was a huge reverberation in the room, it was difficult for me to hear and understand it. The conversation was translated into sign language, I thought deaf people "heard" more.
Thirdly, and most importantly, this conversation did not make much sense to me :(

Here is some approximation of its content - CLICK.

I did not have a chance to talk to Mrs. Agnieszka anymore, so I moved to see the robots in action...

The robots did not paint, they just moved around two rooms connected by a passage with stairs. From this I concluded that they have sight, but I guess they could not hear, I spoke to them in Polish and English and there was no sign of reaction.

So here I will share the questions that bothered me:
- what activities robots are programmed to perform and what activities they perform on their own - if they do anything on their own at all.

Specifically - we turn on the robot and what?
Will it move at all? Why?
On what principle does it change the direction of movement, nod its head, stops, moves from room to room???
Why is it painting?

During the interview, Ms. Agnieszka mentioned that humanity should seriously consider what kind of relationship we want to have with robots, who will be the aristocracy of the future, will technology mature to the stage of creating a religion?

I felt humbled and went to the exit.

A fountain of flames bid me farewell...

Agnieszka Pilat - Wikipedia - CLICK

Strange encounter

 Halfway through my studies, when my enthusiasm for studying had somehow waned, I started taking piano lessons.
I didn't expect any achievements, the main goal was to get acquainted with music more tangibly. I had a lot of time to practice, so I made rapid progress.

During the holidays, I visited my mother in Kielce, where I found a piano at the Provincial Cultural Center so I could also practice.
My hit piece was L. Beethoven's Bagatelle - Für Elise - CLICK.

While playing, I felt someone standing behind me and I stopped playing.
- Nice piece - said the stranger - may I try?
I made room for him.

He looked at the notes and immediately played quite correctly, after a while he started improvising... and that's when I recognised him.
It was probably the 5th grade of primary school. A new student came to our class.
There were only 16 boys in the class, so each addition/departure was a big event.
"New" was not very communicative and rather invisible during lessons and breaks, until one day he noticed an open piano in the general hall, sat down on the edge of a stool and started playing.
I don't remember what it was, probably some popular melody, but he played it completely relaxed, it made an impression.

Step by step, we learned that his parents had transferred him to our private school because he had been expelled from the TPD school (Society of Friends of Children). The reason for the expulsion... we had to wait for an explanation, finally he said - he played Red Poppies at Monte Cassino * on the piano.
Despite our requests, he did not play this melody for us.

One day I invited him and another friend to my house for after-school fun - a game of knucklebones, tin soldiers, coin football.
Demonstration of knucklebones  HERE.

The games were going sluggishly, I don't know what came to my mind, but at some point I boasted that I had a fountain pen with a gold nib in my desk drawer.
It was a gift from my American aunt. My mother immediately sold these types of gifts because these were our priorities.

My friends' visit was coming to an end. Since we washed our hands during the visit (in a bowl because we didn't have a bathroom), I poured water from the bucket into the toilet in the corridor and took them to the street.

When my mother returned from work, I told her about the visit.
My mother immediately looked into the drawer in my table - there was no fountain pen.

Complete consternation - mine - such cool friends, mother's - how to survive until the end of the month.
She wrote a letter to my class teacher asking for clarification.
The teacher was nervous, during a long break she asked the three of us into the staff room and asked me to report the event.
None of my friends confessed.
- When Leszek left with the bucket, you said - "now we can nick something from him" - a "pianist" broke the silence.
- I said it and you nicked - the accused replied.
- I didn't nick anything - was the "pianist's" response
The teacher looked at us helplessly - if no one confesses, I will have to report it to the teachers' council - she commented and ended the meeting.

During the next break, the "pianist" dragged me to a corner - Leszek, I did it, I don't know what came over me, just please don't tell anyone, I will return the pen to you tomorrow.
This confession moved me so much that I wanted to take him in my arms.
At the next opportunity, I approached the teacher and said that the perpetrator had confessed, the case is over, don't tell anyone about it.

The next day - the "pianist" did not come to school. For me it was quite a shock.
The mother wrote another letter to the teacher - the end of the school year was approaching, so she suggested that the perpetrator should not be issued a school certificate.

During the break, the teacher went to the office, and after a while she came back with an uncertain face - his mother was at school yesterday, she said that they were moving somewhere and took her son's school certificate.
Another shock - how to tell my mother about this?

I took a closer look at the person who joined me.
I had no doubts - it was HIM.
Did he recognize me?
We had both changed a lot, I wouldn't have recognized him in a crowd, but I was sure he recognized me. It seemed to me that from time to time he gave me an inquisitive look and a smile - I don't know - mocking or controlling.

I felt so helpless.

Today's illustration - a house in the middle of nowhere.

* Red Poppies at Monte Cassino - a Polish patriotic song commemorating a victory in a very important battle in WWII, In Communist Poland participation of Polish Army under British command in WWII was quite inconvenient subject.
Song HERE.

Lech Lecha

 Some time ago I wanted to check something about my first name - LECH - on internet, I entered and clicked, there was a number of entries on the Austrian ski resort of this name and then - something which attracted my attention - LECH LECHA - CLICK.

The first words said by God to Abraham in the book of Genesis: "Go from your country..." - CLICK.

And then: "Abram traveled through the land as far as the site of the great tree of Moreh at Shechem. At that time the Canaanites were in the land.Then Lord appeared to Abram and said, “To your offsprings I give this land"".

So Lord gave to Abram the land populated by someone else?

Looks like Abram, who changed his name to Abraham, did not bother too much about this land.
When some hunger came, he hurried to a safer place, the Canaanites stayed on the land of their birth.

I do not like this story, it reverberates with some quite actual events.

However there is another story about Abram - Muslim Story - CLICK.

Abram's father - Azar - was a sculptor who specialised in carvings of Mesopotamian idols and ordered his son to sell them.

Abram believed in one unseen God and made great jokes about the products he sold when selling idols.

According to the Quran, Abram sought to spread belief in one God among the people around him. He found supporters, but the Bible history was written by Israeli priests in the book of Torah and it were them who used my name.

P.S. Wikipedia reports archeological findings in this area which are confirming the Muslim version.

Storrada

 In the wonderful book by Antoni Gołubiew - Bolesław the Brave - Świętosława - the sister of the brave king is mentioned.

The Scandinavians changed her name to Sigrid and added the nickname Storrada, which the English Wikipedia translates as Haughty - CLICK.

The name had to be changed because for Scandinavians Świętosława was too difficult to pronounce. And there was no shortage of opportunities to speak - Sigrid became the heroine of many Scandinavian sagas.

Google translates storrada to - great line. Absolutely right - from the Piast dynasty!

In Gołubiew's book, Świętosława appears in Bolesław's camp when he is fighting the Vikings on the island of Wolin.
Świętosława, the wife of the Swedish king Erik the Victorious, had just been widowed and wanted to find out whether she could count on support of her brother.
The answer was no, Poland is involved in wars on several fronts - cope on your own, sister.

And she did as advised...

The first thing is to find a husband - a Swede.
There were several competitors, no audiovisual message, so Świętosława invited them all to her castle at the same time - show what you are worth.

The presentations must have been very poor because after a short time the queen ordered the building in which the suitors were sleeping to be set on fire at night and all of them burned down.

Here, however, Świętosława played not very fair because she was already in love with Olaf Trygvasson, the king of Norway - CLICK.

Too bad, it happened, the suitors were burned, at least no one can accuse her of not looking for a local product, now Świętosława does not have to hide her feelings.

She sent a messenger to Olaf - come, Viking - take me!

And Olaf sailed with his fleet to Gothenburg.
Here I am Storrada, but don't expect me to come ashore, you come to me.

The Vikings built a bridge and covered it with a red carpet.
Storrad walks proudly - I'm going to my beloved - look at me.

Olaf watchd with a smile, suddenly gives a signal and the Vikings, hidden under the pier, cut the spans. The bridge collapses,  Storrada falls into the water, Olaf laughs out loud - you have learned your lesson, treacherous woman!

This insult demands blood, but what can a single woman do?
Simple - propose marriage to King Sven Forkbeard of Denmark. Of course,  under condition that he hits Norway.
Deal you can not throw away.

In the year 1000, Sven, supported by the Swedish king Olaf Skotkonung (Swietosława's son), attacks Norway. The main sea battle celebrated in numerous Norwegian sagas takes place near Svold - CLICK. Olaf loses most of ships and, to avoid capture, jumps from his ship into the sea.

And they saw him that much, although there are rumours that later someone encountered him in Jerusalem

Having achieved her goal, Świętosława gave birth to two sons to her Danish husband. Harald and Canute the Great were respectively kings of Denmark and Canute was also king of England - CLICK.

After the death of her husband - Sven Forkbeard - Świętosława returned to Poland, but when two years later her son Canute the Great took the English throne for good, he invited his mother to his court.

Old times, old stories, sometimes contradictory.

I have not found anywhere confirmation of the scene of flooding Świętosława described by Gołubiew. All sources mention that Olaf hit her in the face with his glove. The reason was the refusal to accept Christianity. An illustration of the meeting with Olaf below...

Source - Wikipedia

Świętosława, daughter of Dąbrówka, queen of Poland who brought Christianity to the country,  was a pagan?

I think it's very likely.
This is indicated by the pagan name.
Both Olaf Tryggvason (interesting fact - he spent his childhood in Kiev) and Bolesław the Brave (interesting fact - he spent his youth at the imperial court in Aachen and witnessed the opening of Charlemagne's tomb) mercilessly suppressed pagan customs in their countries, but it was great politics - to be or not to be be on the European map.

And what was there in the soul? The woman did not have to publicly flaunt her beliefs.

Some sources say that Storrada burned only two suitors.

Only one source mentions Olaf being spotted in Jerusalem.

The Norwegian sagas attribute Sygrida Storrada's experiences to several women.

I'm not surprised, it's hard to fit it into one life, it's hard to fit it into a Norwegian head.
You have to be from the Piast family.

An example of this confusion can be found here - CLICK. The genealogy website states that Sigrid Storrada was the daughter of the Swedish warrior Tosti, but at the same time it informs that the alternative mother of Storrada's children could have been Sigrid MIEZKODOTTIR, i.e. Mieszko's daughter.

I am reminded of Father Józef Tischner's classification of truths:

- shit not the truth,  some truth and the holy truth.

Personally, I prefer the writer's intuition to the glass and eye of historians or the fantasies of Norwegian storytellers.

In what they say there is some truth, but only Antoni Gołubiew gives the holy truth about Świętosława.

The Music Maker of Auschwitz IV

The Music Maker of Auschwitz IV by Jaci Byrne
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

For me it was a strange book.
Firstly I found the title very confusing because of word Auschwitz in it.
Auschwitz- the name of notorious German concentration/extermination camp where millions of people have been cruelly murdered.
Although the full name in the title is Auschwitz IV, but reading other reviews I got impression that nobody bothered to find a difference, and there is, and a big one.
Auschwitz IV - look here - LINK
Author of the diary, Harry Jackson, was moved there in April 1942, that's his relation - ".. we march then to Blechhammer which is a sub-camp of a place called Auschwitz.."
It refers to Blechhammer, a chemical plant located over 65 km from Auschwitz. See here ==> LINK.
At that point I felt quite upset, I felt that using name of Auschwitz in relation to P.O.W. camp which happened to be in a place quite loosely related to dreadful concentration camp is not fair.
I looked for some information about the author of the book - Jaci Byrne - and found something shocking.
In 2018 Jaci Byrne published a book - The Music Maker. One POW provided hope for thousands. I looked into it, it is basically the same text as in The Music Maker of Auschwitz published in 2021.
There is however one significant difference - book without Auschwitz in the title got only 9 ratings, Adding Auschwitz in the title attracted 124 ratings.
I compared text of both books, the only difference I found is that in a copy published in 2021 name Auschwitz appears some dozen times more than in 2018.
No comments.
Now, the actual diary - I found it very honest and touching, but on the other hand the author of the diary had a very limited perspective so the diary is quite repetitive and becomes boring.
The final part of the diary covers time spent with family ater the end of the war and return to England. I found it quite different from the relation from POW camp and very touching, but then - Jaci Byrne, the author of the book, admitted that she added some warm accents to this part of the story ==> LINK.
I loved the final outcome, but it also undermined credibility of the book.

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