Painting - Susanna and the Elders

I bought this 18th Century Italian painting (author unattributed but of an Italian school) in Poland in 1988 and it has been playing hide and seek with me ever since. Meaning sometimes I see it and sometimes I don't! Whenever I live overseas I hang it up and when I am home in Malaysia it stays in storage, out of deference for my visiting relatives and friends who might be sensitive to Susanna's lack of covering. But also because I do not have enough wall to hang such a big picture.

The painting is a popular image in sixteenth-eighteenth-century art based on the Old Testament story of Susanna and the Elders. It is based on a a passage from the 13th chapter of the book of Daniel. As the story goes, a fair Hebrew wife is falsely accused by lecherous voyeurs. As she bathes in her garden, having sent her attendants away, two lusty elders secretly observe the lovely Susanna. When she makes her way back to her house, they accost her, threatening to claim that she was meeting a young man in the garden unless she agrees to make love to them.

She refuses to be blackmailed, and is arrested and about to be put to death for promiscuity when a young man named Daniel interrupts the proceedings. After separating the two men, they are questioned about details (cross-examination) of what they saw, but disagree about the tree under which Susanna supposedly met her lover. The great difference in size between a mastic and an oak makes the elders' lie plain to all the observers. The false accusers are put to death, and virtue triumphs.

I bought the painting as a future investment, and had paid quite a chunk for it even then. When I was in Australia in 1995 I had Sotheby in Sydney value and authenticate it. They subsequently offered to auction it for me. I was not too happy with the estimate base price they put on it and I was not in need of money then so I declined the offer.

The painting had travelled the globe, from Poland to Malaysia, then Australia, back to Malaysia, then to Peru, back to Malaysia and now back in Europe again where it originated from. Susanna has been laying wrapped, unappreciated and untended to rather too long. I had not opened it since I left Peru in 2002. I think perhaps it's about time someone else own and appreciate it....

11-11-2009 - Susanna was successfully auctioned off today at 70% of the highest estimate price, and five times the original price I paid for. I was hoping for more but in today's financial situation I should be happy with what I got. Out of deference of it new owners I have removed Susanna's pictures from this posting!

Tiresome snow

I came back from my holiday in Lebanon on 13 Dec to a country covered with three days of snowfall. A few days later there was another huge snowfall, apparently one of the heaviest in many years. The snow lingered on past Christmas and after some sunny days when the temperature went up and just as I thought I was going to get my garden back to its wintry green, another huge snowfall came on new year's eve. It's now white all over again, and it's getting rather tiresome frankly!

My friend Heinz just called reminding me of his invitation to Adelboden this Sunday for what is probably the biggest event for downhill ski competition in Europe. He had assured me of a heated VIP tent! I promised to give him my final answer tonight.

Do I want to go? All that drive up winding narrow Alpine roads and then a cable car ride to some 3000 metres in this unfriendly weather and probably freezing myself silly in that extremely cold (and may even be windy) weather, heated VIP tent notwithstanding! (If of any consolation, my dear friend Heather from Regina, Saskatchewan in Canada, rang two night ago to wish me happy new year and said it was minus 46 degrees Celsius where she was!).

Sorry Heinz, I think I'll stay home. I am sure someone else will greatly appreciate the CH600( RM1800) ticket to the VIP tent....

Giorgio dan Azizah

“Pronto! Selamat petang, saya Maria Antonietta. Boleh saya cakap dengan Giorgio kalau dia ada di sana ”, suara di telefon menegur Azizah.

“Selamat petang. Giorgio tidak ada di sini, Signora siapa? Boleh saya ambil pesan?". Azizah menjawab agak gementar kerana dia mengesyaki siapa wanita itu.

“Saya isterinya. Maaf kalau saya mengganggu Signorina. Saya perlu bercakap segera dengan Giorgio tapi telefon rumahnya tidak ada jawab. Saya tanya kawannya Franco dan katanya Giorgio mungkin ada di rumah Signorina”.

“Dia akan datang malam ini. Saya boleh suruh dia hubungi Signora. Signora bercakap dari Milano ke?”

“Ya, dan dia tahu nombor telefon saya. Terima kasih. Selamat petang Signorina”. Suara itu memutuskan percakapan.

Hairan, sedikitpun tidak ada ada kemarahan atau kepahitan pada suara Maria Antonietta, isteri sah Giorgio itu. Mungkin tujuh tahun telah mendamaikan sikapnya terhadap Giorgio. Apa sebenarnya yang begitu penting hingga dia menelefon ke rumahnya, Azizah berfikir. Giorgio jarang berceritakan hal isternya, dan Azizah sendiri tidak tahu apa sebab mereka berpisah. Dalam hubungan mereka memang tiada apa lagi, cuma anak mereka Luca. Soal perceraian mereka pun masih terapung-apung.

Inilah yang menjadi kerisauan kepada Azizah. Dia yakin hasrat Giorgio untuk mengahwininya adalah benar dan jujur. Giorgio telahpun kebelakangan ini memohon Mahkamah Gereja Katholik untuk membatalkan perkahwinannya dengan Maria Antonietta, satu-satu cara yang dibuat oleh orang tempatan sebagai alternatif kepada perceraian yang tidak boleh dilakukan. Tetapi pembatatalan itu memakan masa dan agak sukar walaupun boleh dicapai akhirnya.

Giorgio sering juga memujuk Azizah untuk menidurinya tetapi Aziah tegas dengan penolakannya. “Agamaku, pendidikanku dan peribadiku tidak membenarkannya. Kalau kau benar-benar sayang padaku tunggulah hingga kita bernikah”. Itulah jawapan tegas yang sering diberi oleh Azizah.

Giorgio tidak mendesak, tetapi Azizah khuatir juga sampai bila kesabaran Giorgio akan teruji. Giorgio, yang pernah beristeri itu, apalagi sebagai seorang lelaki Latin yang berdarah gemuruh tentu dari masa ke semasa perlu memenuhi keperluan jasmnainya. Lihat sahaja Franco, tidak habis-habis bertukar teman wanita. Tetapi Giorgio selalu menyakinkan Azizah bahawa dia tidak akan membelutinya. Azizah ingin percaya tetapi apa yang tidak diketahuinya tidak mengganggunya. Dia belum lagi mempunyak hak atas Giorgio.

Azizah sendiri amat cintakan Giorgio dan tidak pernah merasai sebahagia saperti yang dirasai sekarang, sejak menjalin hubungan dengan Giorgio. Baru lah ia faham ungkapan 'bagai menatang minyak yang penuh', kerana sedemikianlah Giorgio melayani hubungan mereka. Di saat2 kemesraan mereka Azizah pernah bergurau dengan menanyakan setakat manakah cinta Giorgio terhadapnya. Dan Giorgio dengan romantis menjawab, " Aku cinta pada mu Zizi, hari ini lebih dari semalam dan kurang dari esok...."

Namun demikian, Azizah amat peka bahawa dalam tiap-tiap kehidupan lelaki Itali, wanita yang paling penting ia lah ibu nya, walau pun ia telah berkahwin, atau mempunyai ratusan teman wanita pun. 'Mamma' ialah segala2 nya bagi saorang lelaki di negeri ini, sebab itu lah wujud nya expressi MAMMA MIA! Dan Giorgio pun tidak terkecuali dari sifat ini; dia tetap rapat dan terikat dengan ibu tua dan dua orang kakak nya yang tinggal di Bologna. Azizah sering mendengar perihal sasabuah rumahtangga di sini yang gugat disebabkan si isteri tidak tahan keterlaluan hubungan rapat si suami dengan ibu nya. Malahan saorang dari kenalan Azizah, Silvana, telah pun baru baru ini berpisah dengan suami nya walau pun mereka sudah mempunyi tiga orang anak disebabkan derita menerima kasih sayang suaminya yang berbelah bagi dengan si ibu!

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Azizah pernah berfikir sekiranya Giorgio memeluk agama Islam, serta-mereta dia layak beristeri lebih dari seorang. Tetapi dalam undang-undang Itali dia akan bersalah dan boleh didakwa berbigami kerana dia masih suami sah kepada Maria Antonietta. Permohonan pembatalan perkahwinan mereka masih tiada apa-apa perkembangannya. Bukan dia sahaja, malahan beribu-ribu permohonan masih tergantung termasuk permohonan Puteri Caroline, anak Putera Rainer dan Puteri Grace dari Monaco, yang mahu membatalkan perkahwinannya dengan playboy Philippe Junot.

Azizah sedar kontraknya dengan majikannya akan tamat tidak lama lagi. Dia mesti membuat sesuatu keputusan. Dia gemar dengan kerjanya dan kehidupan di kota Roma, lebih-lebih lagi dengan adanya Giorgio. Dia boleh memohon menyambung kontraknya dan sebaliknya jika dia berkahwin dengan Giorgio, soal kerja dan permastautinya di Itali tidak timbul lagi. Tetapi Giorgio masih belum membuat apa-apa tindakan yang khusus.

“Kenapa kita tidak tinggal bersama sahaja sebagai suami isteri? Apakah pentingnya sekeping kertas untuk mengesahkan taraf kita sebagai pasanngan yang sah. Aku cinta padamu lebih dari apa-apapun Zizi? Adakah itu tidak cukup? Cinta adalah segala-galanya, lebih penting dari apapun!” Giorgio akhirnya mengeluarkan fikirannya.

Azizah tidak terkejut dengan saranan Giorgio itu. Malahan dia agak anih kenapa sedemikian lama baru terkeluar kata-kata itu dari Giorgio.

"Kau lebih tahu yang itu adalah perkara mustahil buatkan Giorgio. Sabarlah, mungkin harapan suci kita akan tercapai juga". Azizah menjawab mengalah, namun di hati kecilnya dia mula merasa curiga yang Giorgio tidak akan sanggup bersabar dan menunggu.........

Luciano and his dog

A few nights ago Luciano called me from Rome to wish me Happy New Year. We had a nice, long conversation and ultimately the subject his dog came up! And we have had that conversation umpteenth time before! Luciano wants to visit me but just could not leave his dog behind! And again I would argue why he let a dog hold his freedom to travel to to ransom? And he would give me the same answer, ‘ ma tu non hai un cane, allora tu non lo sai ... ( but you don’t have a dog, so you don’t know!)”

Va bene, va bene! Mamma mia, MAMMA MIA....

I have known Luciano for over 25 years and though we do not see each other often, whenever me do it is always with the greatest warmth and friendship. He is one of the better English-speaking Italians I know and we could talk about everything under the sun. Of course we must talk about his unfinished Constable-inspired painting that he had been working on for years but yet to complete! And always have great laughs together. This time we were laughing about Italian national TV stations' penchant for endlessly broadcasting silly and purely-entertainment programmes featuring the compulsory skimpily-clad young women! Dosen't the Pope say anything!

My conversation with Luciano inspired me to look up a short story I wrote in 1990 about a Malay girl who lived and worked in Rome, and her love affair with a married (but separated) Italian man. They story gave me an avenue to utilise the colourful characteristics of the Italians (men and women) as I observed them during my four and a half years wonderful stay in Rome. I was also liberally dropping names of landmarks in Rome and Italy that I knew as a backdrops to my story. It was quite an indulgent piece and was told by some friends that it made interesting reading.

I never attempted to have the story published though, but used to print it out and present it to my lady friends on special occasions like birthdays or a Valentine Day.

In the following post is an except of the story, written in Bahasa Malaysia – I guess for my Malaysian friends only then.

I present Giorgio and Azizah (he calls her Zizi) ……

Sleepless in New Zealand

A colleague being posted to Wellington asked me what I thought of the city and New Zealand . I told him frankly that if I had a choice I would not accept an assignment in Wellington . But for him with a school-going son, it could be an ideal place with the good English speaking education facilities there. Wellington would be too quiet and too far from anywhere for me and I would feel exiled!

I had been to New Zealand twice, once on a holiday and another for a meeting. It is a beautiful country for a visit, to live there is something else. During my holiday there, I had a strange experience.

I arrived Auckland from Sydney and was hosted by a dear friend who showed me around and made me feel really at home. The Maori backdrop of Auckland fascinated me. Two years later when I saw the powerful film “Once Were Warriors”, I began to better understand an aspect of the Maori life widely talked about then.

From Auckland we drove to Rotaroa and stayed with another friend, who had the most beautiful rose garden I ever saw, right by a picturesque river lined with weeping willows that you could row a beat on. It was lovingly tended to by a friendly Tongan (who was pleased to know of my association with my former Oxford classmate Tofa ( Maaulupekatofa Tuita - now the Honourable Lord Tuita, Minister of Minister of Lands, Survey, Natural Resources and Environment, brother-in-law to the present King of Tonga).

The first thing I noticed on arrival in Rotaroa was a nasty smell that permeated the air. I always joked about it that it was as if a giant had let out a huge, endless fart – excuse me!… ( the smelliest place on earth I have ever been to was a city in Peru called CIMBOTE. It was a fish processing and distribution centre and for the life of me, I wondered how people could live there with the perpetual stench. It should enter the Guinness Book of Record as the smelliest place on earth!) It was actually the smell of sulphur from the many hot springs and geysers which was a great attraction in that region.

I really had a wonderful time in Rotaroa, but I was feeling something strange – I had difficulty sleeping.

Leaving my friends there, I flew on to Wellington. It was the most frightening plane landing I ever experienced as Wellington was so windy that the plane shook like crazy!

I stayed with an old South Korean friend and colleague and his family in a beautiful hillside residential of Wellington. We had a very pleasant time together time but by then that strange feeling I had manifested itself even more. I could not sleep at right – not a wink!.

After a few days by which I got more groggy due to lack of sleep, I took a train to Christchurch . I saw more sheep then people during the few hours ride, and shared and empty coach with four noisy men with an endless supply of beer. At some point, I moved away from them and one guy asked, “What’s the matter mate, do we smell?”. Yeah, bingo mate!

My plan was to go on to Queenstown after Christchurch but after two further completely sleepless night, which I simply could not fathom, I went to the travel agent and booked the next flight back to Sydney. I immediately slept normally again upon returning to Sydney .

I related this experience to several people over time until someone, a doctor if I remember correctly, explained that it was a psychological effect of being very far away and cut off from a mainland/continent that resulted in my sleeplessness in New Zealand, which in fact is geographically in the middle of nowhere and far from the nearest mainland continent (talk about being exiled!). I wonder if many people get this feeling when they visited New Zealand , or even if it is a real phenomena!

In 2004, I had a three month sabbatical in Honolulu, Hawaii and before I going I was worried if I would suffer the same effect, Hawaii being even further than any mainland....!

Well, I actually slept like a baby throughout my stay in Hawaii, despite the noisy air con I had to put on to drown out the noise from the busy street my apartment was facing!

So there you have it.

Jamil Sulong - Kaca Permata

With much time at hand these holiday season between Christmas and New Year, and the cold snowy weather keeping me indoor, I have been going through many hard-cover books in my possession. One that rather sustained my interest was an encyclopedic coffee-table book titled KACA PERMATA - Memoir Saorang Pengarah (GLASS JEWEL - A Director's Memoir) by a veteran and respected Malay film director Jamil Sulong. It was published by Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka in 1990.

Befitting its title, which actually a title of one of the films he directed, the book is a gem of reference materials for Malay movie buffs and can be inspirational to today's local movie makers. Jamil traced the history of Malay films right up to the 80s. All you want to know about Malay films till then and the stars are there. I particularly like the quaint black and white and sepia stills of the old movies and of the stars of the era. There was so much glamour and excitement in those Malay films of old, compared to today's mostly 'syok-sendiri' Malay films, some of which are down right pathetic.

I wonder what happened to Jamil Sulong these days. He had long stopped making films; age must be catching up with him. His wife Rosnani and son Anwardi were also active in the industry but you do not hear of them these days. Jamil Sulong was a prolific director during his Shaw Brothers day and his films were popular and had a great appeal. I particularly like his 1985 interpretation of Shahnon Ahmad 'RANJAU SEPANGANG JALAN' (No Harvest But A Thorn - Adibah Amin's very apt translation). The film was a critical but not a commercial success. I believe it has till today a wide international appeal and shown as an art/classic film. It is even listed in today's 1 January 2009 New York Times movie guide ( I just clicked on it - everything you want to know about the movie is there, great!)! Now why can't we in Malaysia even get a DVD copy of it....

I believe Jamil's last directorial effort was a remake of the late Tunku Abdul Rahman's MAHSURI, the original of which was made by Cathay Kris in the late 1950s. But for some reason it was a total flop and one never sees or hears of it anymore. Some people says it was sabotage; I for one had never seen the film.

I once met Jamil Sulong during my short stint at Angkasapuri when he was casting for his new film 'Permintaan Terakhir' (which was actually a remake of Hong Kong successful ' Suzanna' - see how Jamil had to succumb to Shaw Brother's dictate, just because they wre making a wide-screen Malay movie in COLOUR for the first time!). I was sent to see him by my then boss Kassim Aris and I remember Jamil sizing me up, looking me up and down and then inviting me to see him in his studio the next day. I did not go! Heavens forbid if I get casted! Anyway the film was a big success and launched the careers of Uji Rashid and Yusuf Haslam (coincidentally, when I was working in Angkasapuri, to get there daily I would take a Sri Jaya bus from Benteng in KL to Pantai Dalam, and who would be the bus conductor who collected the 25 sen fare from me everyday - Yusuf Haslam! Well done Datuk, you've gone a long way!).

Pak Jamil, I hope you are well and fine, Insha Allah. Rest-assured your great contribution will forever be remembered in the annals of Malay films. God bless you.

So how did I spend my cold, snowy new year's eve alone at home? I could not resist all those quaint photos of P. Ramlee throughout the ages in the book and I cropped, edited and assembled them to make a video tribute, herewith attached. Enjoy it and HAPPY NEW YEAR 2009.

Hydra - lanquid days on a Greek Island

In April 1985 I was invited to spend the Easter holiday in the Greek island of Hydra by my friends in Rome who had a villa there. I flew to Athens and went on the port of Piraeus, forty minutes away and then took a hydrofoil to Hydra.

I was met at the island port by George, a white South African who ran a guest house in the island. He brought a donkey to transport my luggage to my friends’ villa in a village on the other side of the island. No mechanised vehicles were allowed on that beautiful magical island of hills and rocks and quaint white-washed buildings.

George was the first of a myriad of people, local and from many parts of the world I would meet during my ten-day stay. He was an active anti-apartheid activist in his country, which got him imprisoned and tortured, he claimed. He showed me scars of his face and body! He had since denounced his country and became a Greek National.

My arrival was three days to Easter. For the Greek orthodox Christians, Easter was a big event and the built up to it was quite a spectacle. The day preceding Easter I was awakened by a loud signing from the church which was a stone’s throw from the villa. The singing went on all day and it was in fact a continuous recitation of prayers from a holy book, which would climax in a ritual in the late evening.

While the villages prepared for the next day’s festivities, I went around discovering the island. At the port there were many boats and luxury liners bringing in tourists for a few hours' visit. It was really bustling, colourful and had a festive air.

Evening came late and leisurely on the island that day. The recitation from the church continued late into the night. By then groups of people holding 2-foot thick candles had already gathered at the church. When the recitation finally stopped, loud firecrackers were set off in great, long, bursts. Then a procession of flower alters and religious objects to the sea ensued.

From the balcony of a friend’s villa overlooking the village waterfront, we watched a magnificent sight of thousands of candle lights meandering down the hills to the waterfront. The flower alters were then floated out to sea.

Supper at George’s guesthouse was followed by lively dancing to loud Greek music till the wee hours. On my way home I stopped at a rocky edge to look at the full moon’s reflection on the silvery water.

Next day, it was like a competition who could turn their Greek music loudest in the village, and it went on all day. After a late barbecue lunch, I went for a long solitary walk up the rocky hills and gathered wild flowers. I later put these in a ceramic vase and placed it on my bedroom window sill and took a photograph of it. Years later my dear French artist friend Michelle Van Besian made a lovely painting based on the photo; it proudly hangs in my living room now and has often been a conversation piece

I stayed another week in Hydra and made visits to Athens (and once got on a wrong hydrofoil and ended up in another island and had to be rescued!). I thoroughly basked in the languid, lazy days and natural friendliness and curiosity of the local people. And I never tire of walking up and down the endless narrow passages meandering from the village to the port and vice verse.

On the day of my departure, George’s donkey and attendant accompanied me to the port in the still dark hour of the morning. As me meandered the narrow road I could see the glorious colour of daylight slowly rising from the calm water surrounding the magnificent island.