Tainted money?
UK debates corporate funding of the arts.
The simmering anger against bankers for plunging Britain into its worst post-War economic crisis has cast its shadow over an unlikely target: the prestigious £15,000 T.S. Eliot Prize administered by the Poetry Book Society.
Two high-profile shortlisted poets — Britain’s Alice Oswald and Australia’s John Kinsella — have pulled out protesting the PBS’s decision to accept sponsorship from a hedge fund, Aurum, to make up for the threatened loss of Arts Council funding.
The prize continues to be funded by T.S. Eliot’s widow, Valerie, and the T.S. Eliot estate with Aurum only paying the management costs, but, for the rebel poets, even this is a step too far.
Ms. Oswald said she felt “uncomfortable” being seen in the company of an investment company. “Poetry should be questioning not endorsing such institutions,” she said. Mr. Kinsella said that “the business of Aurum does not sit with my personal politics and ethics’’.
If the pair thought they would be applauded for their “ethical” stand, they were wrong. Even those who share their loathing of bankers believe they are being “naïve”, arguing that with state funding for the arts drying up rapidly, arts institutions have no option but to look for commercial sponsors. Even the Booker Prize is funded by an investment company, the Man Group.
Eliot himself worked for a bank, keeping his private life separate from his literary work. What would he have made of the protest?
HASAN SUROOR
Sighting Big Red
Trust technology to give you some good cheer this Christmas.
If there is one system that the United States depends on to protect its skies from hostile forces it is the North American Aerospace Defence Command, or NORAD.
However, even with its unrivalled firepower and high-tech satellite systems, the secretive organisation is put to its ultimate test every year around December 25 as it scrambles to track the most elusive target ever — Santa Claus.
Yes, you heard right.
Dating back to Christmas Eve, 1955, when a young Colonel, Harry Shoup, was manning the stations at NORAD predecessor CONAD (Continental Air Defence Command), the U.S. has deployed its most sophisticated electronic surveillance technology to map out the progress of a high-speed projectile only known by its codename, “Big Red.”
On Christmas Eve, 1955, Colonel Shoup, who was manning the station at NORAD predecessor CONAD (Continental Air Defence Command), was shaken to attention when suddenly a barrage of urgent calls came to his station, all demanding information on only one subject – the current location of the Bearded One, He Who is Laden with Gifts, and the patron saint of all well-behaved children.
But why were these calls coming to NORAD? In a twist of fate a vast number of eExcited kids started dialling the U.S. military that evening due to an advertisement that Santa had placed in a Colorado newspaper, which said: “Hey, Kiddies! Call me direct and be sure and dial the correct number.” Ironically, the boss of the North Pole got the number wrong and instead gave out the hotline number of CONAD.
However honouring the tradition of Colonel Shoup, who was unfazed and acted on his rigorous training, to this day a team of thousands of volunteers staff telephones and computers to answer calls and e-mails from children and adults from around the world. Every single call is answered and Santa’s latest location, whether Durban, South Africa, or Honolulu, Hawaii, is plotted out and transmitted.
With live updates numbering in their thousands provided in seven languages, NORAD says that its “NORAD Tracks Santa” website receives nearly nine million unique visitors from more than 200 countries and territories around the world. This year is the technological firepower deployed is unprecedented. However, according to officials, the entire exercise is down to one reindeer, Rudolph. it is only because of Rudolph’s bright red nose and the infrared signature that it gives off that NORAD is able to detect Santa’s sleigh at all.
NARAYAN LAKSHMAN
Esoteric world
Traditional opera is alive and well in China.
Tour groups to China rarely expose their guests to the esoteric world of Chinese opera. The language barrier is cited as one reason; the inaccessibility of this art form's hard-to-understand idiosyncrasies and complicated formal traditions are another. But two operas staged this past month in Beijing underscored how wrong both assumptions are.
“The Peony Pavilion”, a 16th century Kunqu Opera, is being staged this month in Beijing's magnificent national theatre — the venue more popularly known as “The Egg” for its stunningly unique architecture. The opera is a favourite in China, weaving a love story around the life of an aspiring Imperial Chinese scholar, Liu Meng Mei, and infused with all the elements beloved by classical Chinese opera — mysticism, palace intrigues, romance and healthy doses of ancient statecraft.
“The Shepherd Su Wu”, a Han Dynasty story about valour and patriotism, was also staged this month in the Chinese capital, at the iconic Great Hall of the People on Tiananmen Square, which, by day, houses the Chinese Parliament. The almost three hour-long opera was remarkable in its complexity. It tells the story of a gloried Han Dynasty general, Su Wu, who leaves his wife and family to fight a war with the rival Xiongnu kingdom. Su Wu is captured during the battle and exiled. He becomes a shepherd, but finds happiness in a romance with a village girl. Twenty years later, the Han rulers secure Su Wu's release. His sense of patriotism forces him to give up his new family. But when he returns home, he begins to question his blind loyalty to his king, who, he belatedly realises, did not merit his great sacrifice.
The opera was banned in the 1950s for its slightly subversive message — questioning the nation was seen as too sensitive by China's early Communist rulers. Both operas are presented with running English translations on the side of the stage, making them accessible to a foreign audience.
ANANTH KRISHNAN
