Aloïda - Tri Yann
C’était à Vannes, l’an passé au mois de mai
Aloïda de l’IUT revenait,
Petite Maure, cheveux de jais sur le dos,
Jeans et T shirt, sur le pont de Kerino.
S’en viennent à moto ses trois frères,
Et leurs yeux sont comme couteaux,
Ils l’encerclent, elle a peur aussitôt.
- Hier on t’a vue main dans main d’un étudiant,
C’est déshonneur pour une maure de vingt ans,
Grand déshonneur pour tes frères et tes parents,
- C’est, leur dit-elle, liberté d’aimer pourtant.
Des trois frères l’ainé, aussitôt,
Lui attache les mains dans le dos
Et la jette derrière sa moto.
- Frères! Mes frères! Vous me brisez les os.
- Maudite sœur! Nous en finirons bientôt.
- Frères! Mes frères! Vous déchirez ma peau.
- Maudite sœur! Tu gagnes ce que tu vaux.
Dans un entrepôt, ils la traînent,
Et la saignent de leur couteaux,
Et l’enterrent au fond du dépôt.
Tombe sur vanne grêle de caillots de sang.
Aloïda, ton ami vient en courant,
Chercher refuge par hasard dans l’entrepôt,
Voit dans l’entrée tes chaussures et ton manteau.
- Gendarmes qui dormez, accourez!
Morte mon amie est enterrée,
Et de la terre dépassent ses pieds.
Sitôt s’en viennent capitaine et brigadiers
Dans l’entrepôt, pour la Maure déterrer.
Mais là d’entendre sous la terre ses sanglots:
Aloïda sortie s’éveille sitôt.
Entre ses seins bis, reposant,
Elle avait son petit enfant,
Lui souriant, souriant à la vie.
Le jour suivant, sur la route de Lorient,
On retrouva les frères tous trois gisants,
Le plus âgé au fond d’un étang noyé
Et le plus jeune sous sa moto écrasé,
Le troisième brulé, foudroyé,
Et ses cendres égarées dans le vent,
Tous trois gisants, tout près de Landévant.
C’était à Vannes le jour de la St Brendan,
Aloïda, jeune Maure de vingt ans;
Le lendemain, sur la route de Lorient,
On retrouva ses frères tous trois gisants.
[Translation by Google, acceptably legible]
The version in my collection is performed by the musicians of Tri Yann and the National Orchestra in Pays de la Loire. The brass and strings in the orchestra made way for wild, overblown flourishes to augment the last three lines of each stanza shown above, true to the style of the band. It sounds like someone was commissioned to compose a national anthem but decided to make a farce out of it instead.
It tells the story of the honour killing of Aloïda, a young Moorish woman and college student, by her brothers who see her relationship a disgrace to the family. Aloïda survives the live burial when she is found by her friends and the police, while her brothers are later all found dead on the road to Lorient, dead by very mysterious circumstances.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Friday, November 23, 2007
The Craft of Manipulating a Mass of Wires and Silicon that Seldom does what you Expect it To
I have finished my Computer Science papers.
The last one was really easy. To understand why, consider the three aspects of Computing we learn in an 'A' Level syllabus.
The first field of study is Skill i.e. the craft of manipulating the (yeah you know). The Coursework paper is what tests your skill. It was challenging, but they used to have it much better, in the Computing faculty's Golden Age. If you wanted a software for constructing an artificial language, you can go ahead and do just that. If you wanted a program for rendering Julia set pictures for every month of the year, that's what they let you do too. They never induced you to manage bank accounts and libraries.
The second field of study is Rote Learning. They give you some notes and let you sort out whatever concepts and definitions you might be asked about in the paper, right after you have found a way through the language. A similar experience is to meet a Cosmonaut mechanic who has been stuck in Mir for fifteen years, repeating incessantly his daily routines and dialogues with the ship computer. In Russian, of course.
Paper I tested my Rote Learning, and it was no fun.
The third field of study is Common Sense, which made it the easiest. It is also the second most useful because it is pragmatic and applicable wherever a computer is present to fry your sanity front-to-back. It was tested today in Paper II.
All things past, I am sad that there are less and less students taking up the discipline. I suspect even that Computer Science itself has lost its heroic essence. Wherefore the spirit of those mechanics who decrypted Hitler's instructions to his generals? Wherefore the persistence and curiosity of Lorenz and Mandelbrot who threw the doors of Mathematics open to Chaos?
If machines become masters over the minds of men, those who can turn the tables, turn. Satisfy not in bank accounts, nor resign yourself to the mental freak show.
The last one was really easy. To understand why, consider the three aspects of Computing we learn in an 'A' Level syllabus.
The first field of study is Skill i.e. the craft of manipulating the (yeah you know). The Coursework paper is what tests your skill. It was challenging, but they used to have it much better, in the Computing faculty's Golden Age. If you wanted a software for constructing an artificial language, you can go ahead and do just that. If you wanted a program for rendering Julia set pictures for every month of the year, that's what they let you do too. They never induced you to manage bank accounts and libraries.
The second field of study is Rote Learning. They give you some notes and let you sort out whatever concepts and definitions you might be asked about in the paper, right after you have found a way through the language. A similar experience is to meet a Cosmonaut mechanic who has been stuck in Mir for fifteen years, repeating incessantly his daily routines and dialogues with the ship computer. In Russian, of course.
Paper I tested my Rote Learning, and it was no fun.
The third field of study is Common Sense, which made it the easiest. It is also the second most useful because it is pragmatic and applicable wherever a computer is present to fry your sanity front-to-back. It was tested today in Paper II.
All things past, I am sad that there are less and less students taking up the discipline. I suspect even that Computer Science itself has lost its heroic essence. Wherefore the spirit of those mechanics who decrypted Hitler's instructions to his generals? Wherefore the persistence and curiosity of Lorenz and Mandelbrot who threw the doors of Mathematics open to Chaos?
If machines become masters over the minds of men, those who can turn the tables, turn. Satisfy not in bank accounts, nor resign yourself to the mental freak show.
The Cook, the Sergeant and the Janitor
a. You can't believe what I did!
b. What?
a. I killed so many people!
b. Yes, you did. You were awesome.
a. Huh?
b. We saw you from the helicopter.
a. I was desperate!
b. You did not show it.
a. They wouldn't let a ladder down!
b. You came out of it alive!
a. Why am I here?
b. You fainted doing your speech.
a. A speech?
b. Yes, after receiving the medal.
a. Medal?
b. Yes, for destroying that key encampment in the Empire formations.
a. I don't remember speaking.
b. We repelled the Empire. You made it possible.
a. What did I do?
b. We intercepted an inspector sent to the camp, and
a. Snuck me in instead, I know.
b. So you remember.
a. You told me to make friends with them. Then you told me to plant bombs everywhere and send them to Hell.
b. You were a good actor as well.
a. Well, I knew some of them by name!
b. They're the enemy, surely you knew.
a. They're just acting under orders!
b. Just like you were.
a. Well, we slept in the same bunkers! And we had the same chow! And the chow was marvellous. Guess what. Curry mutton and chips. I loved the curry mutton and chips. When I blew up the canteen, I was wondering where else I could have the curry mutton and chips now. I could see bits of the cook flying everywhere.
b. No, don't think about such things now.
a. No, sorry, it wasn't the cook. The cook picked up his rifle and charged at me when I got up the office roof. And then I put him down. I'm so sorry.
b. You shouldn't be!
a. I think it was the sergeant I blew up at the canteen, then. Cast in right eye. Can't speak properly. About as harmless a sergeant you can meet.
b. I'll call the nurse. You're not okay, are you? You must be very tired. I'll lie you down.
a. No, it wasn't the sergeant I blew up at the canteen. The sergeant was blown up at the armoury. I think the janitor on duty was at the canteen. There was the dog.
b. (adjusting the bed) Any time now...
a. The dog got owned too. Oh, no. It wasn't the sergeant I blew up at the armoury. I saw him pick up his rifle and charge at me after I got up the office roof. And then I finished him off. I must have made a massacre from up there! How did I do it? They're all dead?
b. I think they are. I made sure.
a. You were there?
b. Yes. On the helicopter.
a. Why didn't you put down the ladder?
b. Uh, there were considerations
a. Why, I could have killed less of them if you had put it down earlier.
b. They were firing at us as well, that's why!
a. I think it wasn't the janitor I blew up at the canteen. The janitor was in the dormitory. No, that can't be right. He charged at me later as well, didn't he?
b. Think of the lives you have saved!
a. Okay.
b. Your wife? Your children? Your countrymen?
a. They won't let my wife go. No. Not under orders.
b. You saved them.
a. From the janitor, sure. I could rake the pavement better than he. He had the worst attitude for the environment
b. It was probably worth your mission to save all the rest of us.
a. I'll tell you what works. You tell our president, go to their Emperor, point a revolver to his temple, and tell him to retreat from our turf. Then not one of them would have died either. Not the cook, the sergeant, nor the janitor nor all the others-
b. That'll have to put down the Emperor's guards as well, eh?
a. I don't mind. I don't know them. I have never had curry mutton with them. They must have been bloody-minded rotters as well, guarding his Imperial ass there, what? He grows fat on his own soldier's sacrifice. What have I done to deserve the High Priest's role?
b. The nurse is here.
a. Is my wife around?
b. Just a minute, thanks.
a. I'll tell you what works. I need to get straitjacketed. Yes. A nice canvassy cocoon. And a nice padded room I can ram my head upon. And fast, yes! And fast. I'll heal in a few days, I will! Or months... Or, whatever.
Which was exactly what they did.
b. What?
a. I killed so many people!
b. Yes, you did. You were awesome.
a. Huh?
b. We saw you from the helicopter.
a. I was desperate!
b. You did not show it.
a. They wouldn't let a ladder down!
b. You came out of it alive!
a. Why am I here?
b. You fainted doing your speech.
a. A speech?
b. Yes, after receiving the medal.
a. Medal?
b. Yes, for destroying that key encampment in the Empire formations.
a. I don't remember speaking.
b. We repelled the Empire. You made it possible.
a. What did I do?
b. We intercepted an inspector sent to the camp, and
a. Snuck me in instead, I know.
b. So you remember.
a. You told me to make friends with them. Then you told me to plant bombs everywhere and send them to Hell.
b. You were a good actor as well.
a. Well, I knew some of them by name!
b. They're the enemy, surely you knew.
a. They're just acting under orders!
b. Just like you were.
a. Well, we slept in the same bunkers! And we had the same chow! And the chow was marvellous. Guess what. Curry mutton and chips. I loved the curry mutton and chips. When I blew up the canteen, I was wondering where else I could have the curry mutton and chips now. I could see bits of the cook flying everywhere.
b. No, don't think about such things now.
a. No, sorry, it wasn't the cook. The cook picked up his rifle and charged at me when I got up the office roof. And then I put him down. I'm so sorry.
b. You shouldn't be!
a. I think it was the sergeant I blew up at the canteen, then. Cast in right eye. Can't speak properly. About as harmless a sergeant you can meet.
b. I'll call the nurse. You're not okay, are you? You must be very tired. I'll lie you down.
a. No, it wasn't the sergeant I blew up at the canteen. The sergeant was blown up at the armoury. I think the janitor on duty was at the canteen. There was the dog.
b. (adjusting the bed) Any time now...
a. The dog got owned too. Oh, no. It wasn't the sergeant I blew up at the armoury. I saw him pick up his rifle and charge at me after I got up the office roof. And then I finished him off. I must have made a massacre from up there! How did I do it? They're all dead?
b. I think they are. I made sure.
a. You were there?
b. Yes. On the helicopter.
a. Why didn't you put down the ladder?
b. Uh, there were considerations
a. Why, I could have killed less of them if you had put it down earlier.
b. They were firing at us as well, that's why!
a. I think it wasn't the janitor I blew up at the canteen. The janitor was in the dormitory. No, that can't be right. He charged at me later as well, didn't he?
b. Think of the lives you have saved!
a. Okay.
b. Your wife? Your children? Your countrymen?
a. They won't let my wife go. No. Not under orders.
b. You saved them.
a. From the janitor, sure. I could rake the pavement better than he. He had the worst attitude for the environment
b. It was probably worth your mission to save all the rest of us.
a. I'll tell you what works. You tell our president, go to their Emperor, point a revolver to his temple, and tell him to retreat from our turf. Then not one of them would have died either. Not the cook, the sergeant, nor the janitor nor all the others-
b. That'll have to put down the Emperor's guards as well, eh?
a. I don't mind. I don't know them. I have never had curry mutton with them. They must have been bloody-minded rotters as well, guarding his Imperial ass there, what? He grows fat on his own soldier's sacrifice. What have I done to deserve the High Priest's role?
b. The nurse is here.
a. Is my wife around?
b. Just a minute, thanks.
a. I'll tell you what works. I need to get straitjacketed. Yes. A nice canvassy cocoon. And a nice padded room I can ram my head upon. And fast, yes! And fast. I'll heal in a few days, I will! Or months... Or, whatever.
Which was exactly what they did.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
La Complainte d'I. M. Pei
If I hadn't forgotten about the Louvre as a comparison to the Esplanade as a landmark project to build an arts centre, it would be the best essay out of the seven in the whole Study of Visual Arts paper. But I did, and in the ensuing confusion I picked the Sydney Opera House, which I've never been to. Never mind. If I can't impress the examiners, then maybe I can try to impress the rest of you.
It must be the first time I flaunt my vanity so blatantly. And I'm not even sure if the rest of you are still there anyway. But if it helps alleviate my grief, why not then? Moose.
Comparison: Esplanade - Theatres on the Bay and The Grand Louvre Project
First, the similarities.
The project objective.
to build an iconic monument and an arts center, or whatever was stated in the question.
Design approach.
Very similar. Both projects go in the direction of Modern Architecture in their adaptation to a modern city and stuff. Both structures (The Esplanade Theatres and the revamped Louvre) are divided into a number of wings (2 for Esplanade, 3 for Louvre) that is joined together by a central lobby (Esplanade Mall, space under Louvre Pyramid). Both lobbies take on some functions and likeness to a shopping centre.
The lobby; stair up to surface (Pyramid?); facing Sully wing entrance.
Accessibility.
Both the mall and the Pyramid lobby are accessible through underground rail (City Hall/future Esplanade station; Palais Royal — Musée du Louvre Métro station). You can also walk in from the city itself. However, presumably no underground carpark for the Louvre. The open space in front of the overground entrance is also much bigger in the Louvre.
Use of glass as a material.
The Durians have glass roofs. The Louvre has a glass pyramid. Only to be added if I have forgotten all the other points / there is no time left for anything else.
The Differences.
Geography.
The Esplanade was a bayfront project, which makes it similar to the Sydney Opera House (it wasn't a that unreasonable choice). The Louvre is hundreds of kilometres inland, in the middle of Ole Paris. No bayfront here. While the Esplanade adapts to the Marina landscape, mediating between the Central Business District and the wild unexplored south, the geographical context of the revamped Louvre is the palace itself. Its enclosure by the palace reduces its relevance to the cityscape.
Design constraints.
Maybe except for the park itself (?) the Esplanade was predominantly a creation ex nihilo. The bayfront landscape seems to be the only thing the design is limited to. According to Wikipedia, it was built upon the former site of the Satay Club.
However, the renovation of the Louvre was an add-on to an existing cultural icon. Design is limited to build a lobby to compliment and improve visitor access to the Denon, Sully and Richilieu wings. There is consequently no consideration to go multidisciplinary here i.e. no theatre, no open space, no amphitheatre etc.
Reputation.
Paris is a city filled to the brim with tourists and stereotypes. There is inherent consciousness of the Grand Louvre Project in terms of city image; will it be destroyed by the Pyramid? Stuff like that.
Singapore is a place where the land flows with milk and cash of all currencies; it's not exactly rich in history or romantic in the sense Paris is thought to be. Because we have got nothing to lose, anything helps in the Esplanade plan. Ok. Another spare point.
Conclusion?
I've written what I wanted to write so badly. It doesn't feel that bad after all.
Two papers left!
Centre Georges Pompidou
By the way, a third option kept coming back into my head. It bore the catchy name of Centre Pompidou. I looked it up after I hit home. Centre Georges Pompidou is much more similar to the Esplanade complex than the Louvre in a way, indeed having an iconic status as well. (It kind of reminds one of Woodlands Civic Centre too, come to that) Also, it's a multidisciplinary hub with a library, a modern art museum and a music research centre. Sounds right for a comparison too, huh?
I think the design helped make it iconic. It's so hideous, it's brilliant.
Pompidou, Pompidou, Pompidou, dou, dou.
It must be the first time I flaunt my vanity so blatantly. And I'm not even sure if the rest of you are still there anyway. But if it helps alleviate my grief, why not then? Moose.
Comparison: Esplanade - Theatres on the Bay and The Grand Louvre Project
 |  |
First, the similarities.
The project objective.
to build an iconic monument and an arts center, or whatever was stated in the question.
Design approach.
Very similar. Both projects go in the direction of Modern Architecture in their adaptation to a modern city and stuff. Both structures (The Esplanade Theatres and the revamped Louvre) are divided into a number of wings (2 for Esplanade, 3 for Louvre) that is joined together by a central lobby (Esplanade Mall, space under Louvre Pyramid). Both lobbies take on some functions and likeness to a shopping centre.
The lobby; stair up to surface (Pyramid?); facing Sully wing entrance.
Accessibility.
Both the mall and the Pyramid lobby are accessible through underground rail (City Hall/future Esplanade station; Palais Royal — Musée du Louvre Métro station). You can also walk in from the city itself. However, presumably no underground carpark for the Louvre. The open space in front of the overground entrance is also much bigger in the Louvre.
Use of glass as a material.
The Durians have glass roofs. The Louvre has a glass pyramid. Only to be added if I have forgotten all the other points / there is no time left for anything else.
The Differences.
Geography.
The Esplanade was a bayfront project, which makes it similar to the Sydney Opera House (it wasn't a that unreasonable choice). The Louvre is hundreds of kilometres inland, in the middle of Ole Paris. No bayfront here. While the Esplanade adapts to the Marina landscape, mediating between the Central Business District and the wild unexplored south, the geographical context of the revamped Louvre is the palace itself. Its enclosure by the palace reduces its relevance to the cityscape.
Design constraints.
Maybe except for the park itself (?) the Esplanade was predominantly a creation ex nihilo. The bayfront landscape seems to be the only thing the design is limited to. According to Wikipedia, it was built upon the former site of the Satay Club.
However, the renovation of the Louvre was an add-on to an existing cultural icon. Design is limited to build a lobby to compliment and improve visitor access to the Denon, Sully and Richilieu wings. There is consequently no consideration to go multidisciplinary here i.e. no theatre, no open space, no amphitheatre etc.
Reputation.
Paris is a city filled to the brim with tourists and stereotypes. There is inherent consciousness of the Grand Louvre Project in terms of city image; will it be destroyed by the Pyramid? Stuff like that.
Singapore is a place where the land flows with milk and cash of all currencies; it's not exactly rich in history or romantic in the sense Paris is thought to be. Because we have got nothing to lose, anything helps in the Esplanade plan. Ok. Another spare point.
Conclusion?
I've written what I wanted to write so badly. It doesn't feel that bad after all.
Two papers left!
Centre Georges Pompidou
By the way, a third option kept coming back into my head. It bore the catchy name of Centre Pompidou. I looked it up after I hit home. Centre Georges Pompidou is much more similar to the Esplanade complex than the Louvre in a way, indeed having an iconic status as well. (It kind of reminds one of Woodlands Civic Centre too, come to that) Also, it's a multidisciplinary hub with a library, a modern art museum and a music research centre. Sounds right for a comparison too, huh?
I think the design helped make it iconic. It's so hideous, it's brilliant.
Pompidou, Pompidou, Pompidou, dou, dou.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Anxiety Plays
Anxiety Plays: A dramatic fragment
by Kurt Schwitters
a. Sir.
b. Yes?
a. You are under arrest.
b. No.
a. You are under arrest, Sir.
b. No.
a. I shall shoot, Sir.
b. No.
a. I shall shoot, Sir.
b. No.
a. I shall shoot, Sir.
b. No.
a. I hate you.
b. No.
a. I shall crucify you.
b. Not so.
a. I shall poison you.
b. Not so.
a. I shall murder you.
b. Not so.
a. Think of the winter.
b. Never.
a. I am going to kill you.
b. As I said, never.
a. I shall shoot.
b. You have already said that once.
a. Now come along.
b. You can't arrest me.
a. Why not?
b. You can take me into custody, but no more.
a. Than I shall take you into custody.
b. By all means.
b. allows himself to be taken into custody and be led away. The stage grows dark. The audience feels duped and there are catcalls and whistles. The chorus cries: "Where's the author? Throw him out! Rubbish!"
by Kurt Schwitters
a. Sir.
b. Yes?
a. You are under arrest.
b. No.
a. You are under arrest, Sir.
b. No.
a. I shall shoot, Sir.
b. No.
a. I shall shoot, Sir.
b. No.
a. I shall shoot, Sir.
b. No.
a. I hate you.
b. No.
a. I shall crucify you.
b. Not so.
a. I shall poison you.
b. Not so.
a. I shall murder you.
b. Not so.
a. Think of the winter.
b. Never.
a. I am going to kill you.
b. As I said, never.
a. I shall shoot.
b. You have already said that once.
a. Now come along.
b. You can't arrest me.
a. Why not?
b. You can take me into custody, but no more.
a. Than I shall take you into custody.
b. By all means.
b. allows himself to be taken into custody and be led away. The stage grows dark. The audience feels duped and there are catcalls and whistles. The chorus cries: "Where's the author? Throw him out! Rubbish!"
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