Tis The Season...Party Feet

With the big day fast approaching (only 17 sleeps to go peeps), attention has suddenly turned to collaborations of the festive kind. And this week has seen me celebrating with considerable commitment to the Christmas cause, the result being that I am ensconsed on the comfy couch at Gidday HQ today after last night's work Christmas party. Amongst today's priorities is resting my aching feet, having kicked off my dancing shoes *slash* drinking boots in the early hours of this morning before pouring myself into bed.

It was a fabulous night, starting with a drinks-style mingle (with a spot of champers, of course) and delicious dinner table conversation under the majestic Rubenesque ceiling of the Banqueting House in Westminster. Commissioned by King Charles I and installed by Inigo Jones, the ceiling comprises the only canvasses from the old Whitehall Palace to remain in situ. Flemish painter Peter Paul Rubens painted them in his studio in Antwerp, shipped them across for installation in March 1636 and was paid the princely sum of £3,000 for his efforts.

Eyes up at dinner - what a spectacular view!

After dinner it was down to the Undercroft for a spot of drinking dancing. Designed as a drinking den (how appropriate!) for James I, the area went on to host lotteries after his death, which sounds kind of akin to some (alright, most) of the moves on show under the temporary disco lights last night. And a big shout out to DJ Jeff who kept the floor packed with swinging, singing partygoers - and at whose feet I lay the blame entirely for my scratchy throat and tender tootsies.

But this was not the only celebratory collaboration as earlier this week, we turned to team-building of a whole different kind. On Tuesday night we found ourselves in the south London suburb of Wandsworth for a night of culinary negotiation at Venturi's Table. Split into three teams, we kneaded, chopped, stirred, dipped, chatted and laughed under the careful supervision of Anna Venturi's team of patient chefs before sitting down to a fabulous three course meal - fresh pasta, chicken ballotine and a super-scrummy pannetone pudding. Oh and a few drinks. (There may also have been a bit of singing. Yes it's true.) This is not the first time I've done something like this (see my post on Hot Chicks & Hens) and let me just say right here and now, it won't be my last. It is such fantastic fun.

And last but by no means least, I managed to squeeze in a catch up with three colleagues from workdays past and over a bottle of wine (or two) and a cheap and cheerful meal at my local Italian, we shared the news, reflected on 2012 and speculated on what changes 2013 might bring.

It starts again this week so right now, I'm feeling rather grateful for today's respite. But not for too long. After all, it is the season to be jolly...

...and my drinking boots still have plenty of tread.

Driving Our Future...

Could you imagine driving your car along roads that adapt to the traffic and the conditions around you?

Sounds like something out of a futuristic sci-fi flick doesn't it? But in fact, it could be closer than we think.

In my itinerant innovation meanderings last week, I came across a cracker of an idea from a couple of literal clever clogs. Dutch design firm Studio Roosegarde have partnered up with Heijmans to develop Smart Highway, their vision for roads...

...which are more sustainable and interactive by using light, energy and road signs that automatically adapt to the traffic situation.

This looks like it responds to the weather conditions - we have many changes in weather here in the UK. Perhaps a highly lucrative market may not be so far away...once our road taxes have paid for all of the tearing up and re-laying of asphalt, the filling in of potholes as well as visibility jackets, hard hats and shovels...

Looking at this, I think the car is actually charged up when you drive in the 'induction' lane...what a fantastic idea! Now that might just give the oil companies a run for their money.

I love this idea of having lighting that is triggered by the traffic flow. Bit like turning the lights on and off as you enter and leave the room. No nagging required...and energy saving too.

During Dutch Design Week in October, this brilliant idea won a Best Future Concept award and Studio Roosegaarde claim that the first Smart Highway will be a reality in The Netherlands mid 2013.

What an amazing use of technology - concepts like this really do inspire me. What do you think? Could you see yourself driving on these highways of the future?

NB: All images sourced from: www.studioroosegaarde.net

Your 2012 Five A Day - December

It's December 1st, the first day of winter (on this side of the planet anyway) and a mere 24 sleeps from the Big Day. The temperature this week has really dropped: it was a brisk -1C when I was standing at the bus stop yesterday morning. I have some present wrapping and a little prep for next week's work Christmas do (at the Banqueting House in Whitehall no less) on my to-do list today. And to my absolute delight, this month's Violent Veg gives a big festive nod to one of my favourite Christmas traditions, carolling.

Seattle-A was in town on Thursday night (it was like a surprise early Christmas present when I got her text message this week) and as I made my way through Richmond train station to meet her, I saw my first set of carol singers for the season. A big group of kids, all rugged up in their vibrant winter woollies, braved the chill to fill the space with joyful tunes and I snatched a brief moment to stand on the stairs and enjoy a little of their festive spirit.

It took me back to Christmasses in Oz where opportunities to belt out a few yuletide tunes seemed to be around every corner, where the point was to join in rather than what you sounded like - probably just as well in my case. This was never about show-pony-ing (I've never been a Karaoke fan) but about sharing a bit of Christmas spirit with a disparate group of people who, in embracing the anonymity provided by the crowd, sang simply because they could.

I particularly remember bouts of Brownie carolling as a youngster in Brisbane in the 70s and another hot sticky evening somewhere in country Victoria in my early twenties, grown-ups and kids alike sprawled on picnic rugs under the riverside gum trees and a community band playing in the background while everyone sang their hearts out.

And in any of my excited witterings about Christmas (and particularly with Christmas Down Under in my sights), I cannot omit one of Melbourne's most wonderful institutions, Carols by Candlelight, a televised open air concert held at the Sidney Myer Music Bowl every Christmas Eve. I watched this on telly for many years and finally found myself singing along on the grassy slopes under the stars nine years ago just before I moved to London.

These every-man-sings opportunities don't seem to abound in the same way in Old London Town. There are many chances to sit and listen - from The Hallelujah Chorus at St Martin in the Fields and the Christmas Festival at The Albert Hall right through to a myriad of local community events but it seems that spirited audience participation is hard to come by. And as I stood amongst the swirling commuting masses on the stairs on Thursday night, watching those bright young faces, I realised that I missed this little piece of Christmas Past.

So that's another thing to add to the festive to-do list before the fat man in the red suit comes to town. But I've been a good girl (no really I have) and have already ticked one thing off the list this morning...

I do so love Christmas. Only 24 sleeps to go people...I'm excited!

-----------------------
This post also completes Gidday from the UK's Five A Day series for 2012: 12 posts containing both a whole range of random themes inspired by my merely turning the page each month and the laugh out loud cleverness of my Gidday Guest Stars, the vitamin-rich team from Violent Veg. The back catalog is below for any of you that missed any...I hoped you've enjoyed it.

 

November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
January

Another Spotlit Stage...

It all started in Seville in 2002. It was an additional excursion, added on top of an already busy trip. Tourist-y it may have been but it was spell-binding.

In the deepening twilight, we'd driven down from our dinner in the hillside village of Mijas Pueblo to join the throngs at a tablaos flamencos in Seville. It was crowded and we had to push our way through to our reserved seating in the front rows (one of the perks of much-maligned organised tours). 

Before long the show began: the pounding feet, arched poses and haughty profiles holding my attention, challenging me to avert my gaze elsewhere if I dared. Women danced, men danced, women and men danced together. Skirts and shawls swirled and swayed, fingers flicked and clicked and the cantaores (singers) wailed and clapped. It was powerful and passionate and provocative.

Then a small man took the stage. He was not handsome or well-built. He had a hard, weathered face and a small wiry frame.  But he exuded a raw magnetism and as his heels started their gentle tempo against the floor, he looked out into the darkened audience over his hooked nose, turned swiftly, sharply and raised his arms.

From my seat in the front row, I could feel the heat of his body, see the beads of sweat rising on his face as he pounded the floor. I held my breath, my heart thumping in my chest and my eyes glued to this stomping, whirling, arrogant dervish in front of me. It seemed to last forever and be over in a minute. As he remained still for that last time, it was a few seconds before I could leap to my feet and applaud, so mesmerised was I by his performance.

Ten years later, my pulse still races when I remember the man on that small stage in Seville, dancing with such arrogance and magnetism. And it fuelled an ongoing desire to immerse myself in that wonderful Flamenco spirit at every opportunity.

This weekend I went to see Paco Pena and his Flamenco Dance Company at Sadler's Wells. It's the third time I have been to see this unassuming master of plucking, picking and strumming since I've lived in London and he has lost none of his musical magic.

This latest show, Quimeras, is a fusion of Spain and Africa. It is filled with foot stamping, arm waving movement that spends two hours weaving in and out of haunting wails and tempestuous rhythms. It was unbelievably good. So good that I was on my feet at the end, cheering and clapping until my arms hurt.


Source: www.sadlerswells.com

Yet for all its wonderful-ness, as I walked back to Angel tube station, my mind wandered and I was taken back to another small man on another spotlit stage.

My heart skipped a beat and my soul soared again.