Suomen toivo?

Further to my previous post about the disastrous Finnish general election, I came back from Lapland (blog entry to follow) to find this article in Friday's Metro. Because the paper is only available as a PDF, I'm not sure how to create a link to it, so will copy it here in its entirety. I'll translate it at some point, but for now here it is in its glorious original form. Well done, Kaarina!

Suomen toivo (– Kaarina Hazard, Metro pe 23.3.07)
Sitä olisi joku hölmömpi kolumnisti voinut ennen vaaleja olla hyvinkin sitä mieltä, että ei voi mitenkään kokoomuksen hörökorvaleikki upota kansaan, että ei tässä nyt lukutaitoinen suomalainen sillä tavalla vietävissä ole, että hullunkuriset perhekortit kävisivät noin niin kuin poliittisen agendan vakavasta esityksestä. Sama kolumnisti olisi hyvinkin voinut olla sitä mieltä, että Niinistön ja Kataisen muodostama parivaljakko on jotenkin nolo, sillä tavalla läpinäkyvän isäpoikainen, että ei voi täysi-ikäinen äänestäjäkunta nauramatta tuommoista katsella. No, katselipa hyvinkin, eikä nauranut yhtään, korkeintaan yhteisestä mielihyvästä. Ei ollut kokoomuksen kampanja huono, ei, vaan onnistunein aikoihin. Suomen Toivo -kampanja on kuulkaa semmoinen sulka mainostoimisto Bob Helsingin hattuun, että ei ikinä.

Kysymys kuuluu: Miksi yli 60 000 suomalaista äänesti Sauli Niinistöä? Tämähän on se sama mies, joka puoli sukupolvea sitten ei muuta tehnyt kuin hokenut inhimillisesti ikävää, mutta systeemin kannalta välttämätöntä leikkausta ja monoa. Tämäkö on kaikki nyt unohdettu? Mitä ilmeisimmin. Tuolloin Niinistö niitti mainetta miehenä, joka nimenomaan pystyi kävelemään valuuttalainatakausvelkavankeuskärsimysten lihaisien kasojen yli silmän rävähtämättä, katse suunnattu kansakunnan ja valtiontalouden horisonttiin. Ja nyt samaa miestä halutaan kosketella kauppakeskuksissa. Mikä tässä välissä on muuttunut, maailma vai Niinistö? Arvatenkin molemmat.

Pirullisesta, tylystä leikkurista on vuosien saatossa kasvanut mediaan henkistynyt mies, viestinten leiritulille nyt saatu semmoisissa inhimillisissä kärsimyksissä marinoitu possu, että maukkaampaa saa hakea. Kun Tanjan kanssa polut erosivat, jäikö mies tänne tekstareita salarakkaille lähettelemään, ei jäänyt. Sen sijaaan hän arvokkaasti liiteli Eurooppaan, vetäytyi niin sanoaksemme, kuka tietää, ehkä rakkauden satuttama mies.

Ja sitten tuli tsunami. Jos Niinistö olisi löydetty lyhtypylväästä keikkumasta paikallisen misukan kanssa, olisi hänen julkinen tarinansa tällä haavaa ehkä toinen. Mutta lomalla oman pojan kanssa. Ja sitten, yllättäen, todistaa tämmöistä hirveää kärsimystä. Ja nähdä paikallisten ystävällisyys. Euroopan rahamaailma ja aasialainen lähimmäisenrakkaus, nämä kun yhdistää, niin... tämähän on... kuin lähetyssaarnaaja, Tarzan ja Stanley yhdessä ja samasssa persoonassa! Ei jäänyt maailmalle vaikka miten anottiin, vaan palasi meidän luo! Niin – kun asiaa oikein silmin katsoo, alkavat Sauli-rakkautemme osaset kuin itsestään ajautua paikoilleen.

Leave our music alone!

I recently wrote a customer review of a recording of Walton's sublime Viola Concerto for Amazon. I was a bit worried that they wouldn't publish it, as it is rather harsh. Violinists (Vengerov included) should keep their hands off our music, or, in the words of William Primrose, they "should be shot". Here is the full review, including the bits I borrowed from other reviewers, which the Amazon staff deleted...

Leave our music alone!
When oh when will violinists learn to leave our music alone? To quote from another reviewer: "I was left speechless and wordless [...] you will notice things you never heard before in this concerto however well you know it." I am always left speechless at the audacity of many violinists, who seem to believe that they can simply pick up a viola and play it - I was under the impression that this took years of practice and dedication. [Here I must add that Nigel Kennedy is an exception to this principle: his recording of the Walton Viola Concerto is superb.] I know this concerto very well indeed, and the list of things I had "never heard before" is far too long to outline here.

Mr Vengerov is clearly an exponent of that insipid Romantic school of violin playing - eschewed by most serious artists - whereby an almost hysterical use of vibrato and grimacing through every cadence is apparently the only way to reap artistic dividend, or to compensate for the lack thereof. That said, no amount of throwing oneself around the stage can save this truly shocking rendition of a wonderful, important piece of music. Walton was first and foremost a modernist (something Kennedy fully understands in his recording), and there is no place in this concerto for gushing Romanticism, even less so for such sloppiness (tuning, bowing etc) and disregard (contempt?) for the sound qualities of the instrument as are displayed here. I couldn't agree more with another reviewer: stick to the violin, playing the viola is not a circus act.

I am less well acquainted with the Britten concerto, though I have no hesitation in concluding that better recordings must surely be available. A quick glance through Amazon reveals a Decca re-release with Mark Lubotsky conducted by the composer - I rest my case.

Turning the lights off

Even as I begin writing this I'm unsure whether it's wise to get myself started on the (deplorable) outcome of Sunday's general election in Finland. I don't think the result could have been any worse: for anyone involved in the arts, anyone on a low income, anyone with young children (and – God forbid! – only one income), the homeless, the infirm... the list goes on.

What riles me most of all is the cynical fashion in which these right-wing candidates (and, here, I suppose I mean specifically those of the Kokoomus) pitch themselves at young voters. Living in a world where, by and large, the only people I come into contact with are people who think like I do, it's easy to forget that our planet is apparently populated with idiots – after all, W was elected twice. Are people really so stupid that they look at a brightly-coloured poster and think "I'll vote for them", without thinking for a second about what these people stand for? Katainen and his cronies want to turn Finland into a mini-USA, where everybody fends for themselves, and where relying on the state is frowned upon. This from a party whose election slogan was "Suomen toivo" (Finland's Hope). What hope? What hope is there for anyone who suddenly loses their job, or who is unable to work because of an illness? What hope is there for artists who can barely support their families because grants are almost non-existent?

Another element of Americanised politics to be found in the imminent new government's plans is that of Reaganomics: of investing in big business and introducing tax cuts for the already phenomenally rich in the misguided and misleading hope (Suomen toivo...) that this increased wealth will filter down to the less well-off members of society. Apparently Katainen, Niinistö et al haven't taken the time to look at the effects this policy had during the Reagan years. His administration (and Thatcher's for that matter) saw the gap between rich and poor widen more than ever before. I suppose we shouldn't be surprised, seeing as Thatcher claims that society doesn't exist.

All politicians – in Britain, Finland, the rest of the EU, though sadly not in the USA – are keen to woo voters with their green credentials. All too often, however, things are not what they seem. David "Dave" Cameron is perhaps the finest example of the great green swindle: cycling to Westminster while his papers travel behind him in three cars; travelling by private helicopter to Manchester to be photographed stepping on a tram, and so on. Katainen and the rest of the Kokoomus want to make us think they're green, but jumping on the climate change bandwagon isn't enough. Where are the caps on emissions for big business (of course, there are none, because business is everything in their world), the targets for emission reductions? One thing is clear: building the sixth nuclear reactor in Finland, thereby shunting the problem into the future, is not the answer.

The environment secrtary David Miliband deserves a lot of credit for the very real work he is currently undertaking in the UK to introduce a legally binding policy for emissions reduction through until 2050. Let's hope the new Finnish government will follow suit, though sadly this looks increasingly unlikely. Would the last person to leave the country please turn off the lights?

A soothing, milky bath alone

The trend of publishing entertaining little snippets on the sides of milk cartons seems to be spreading fast. I know in America they often print public information, such as missing persons' announcements, but in Europe it seems we stick firmly to the literary. When I was in Iceland in summer 2005, each milk carton carried an Icelandic proverb complete with an accompanying illustration, all drawn by children under 10. These certainly make for great teaching material: needless to say, my host – who studies Icelandic – started collecting them all. Perhaps I should have started collecting these Finnish "maitorunot" (milk poems), because should I ever take leave of my senses and embark upon teaching Finnish they would undoubtedly come in very handy.

I was recently asked to translate one of the milk poems for a competition (goodness knows what kind of competition...). Complete with metre and rhyming structures, the poem chosen was a challenge to translate – not least for someone who doesn't normally touch poetry with a bargepole. Here's the translation I eventually produced and the original, so that those of you with Finnish can see how it was all done!

Vain maitokylpy rauhoittaa
herkkänahka prinsessaa.
Ammeessansa kruunupää
joka ilta unelmoi:
”Kun lempilehmä laulaa,
kun ukulele soi,
niin joku, ihan kuka vaan
minut hakee tanssimaan.
Poljen maata, pyörähdän,
kenkäni niin hävitän!”

Eppu Nuotio


A soothing, milky bath alone
can satisfy the haughty throne.
Soaking in her tub each night,
the crown princess dreams with delight:
"Whensoe'er my pet cow sings
and the ukulele rings,
then someone, given half the chance,
will come and fetch me for a dance.
I tread the boards, I spin around.
and dash my shoes into the ground!"

Trans. DH

Kersti Juva on hyvin vihainen!

Here's a photograph of a group of SKTL members (with me on the far left) at the protest outside the parliament on Friday afternoon. It was a cold, wet, grey day, but at least we all had fun and the politicians were doing their best to convince us that they were actually listening to what we had to say... We'll see if anything ever happens, and whether the next government takes the financial struggles of those working in the arts any more seriously in the future.

Undoubtedly the wittiest placard of the day was Tiina's "Kersti Juva on hyvin vihainen": this just goes to show that, even if you live in darkest Wales, you can still make your voice heard in a protest at the other side of Europe. That's commitment for you!

The sheer Britishness of it all...

Having lived outside the UK for most of the time that has passed since Princess Diana's death, it's interesting to revisit that moment in history from a foreign context, almost as an outsider. Sitting in the cinema this evening, I was struck by the notion that perhaps only Brits can truly appreciate the significance of the British monarchy, and thereby also fully understand what it is that makes this film such a towering piece of cinema.

As another reviewer has pointed out (on Amazon), Elizabeth II is omnipresent, permeating every facet of British society, and it is in its very attention to detail that "The Queen" triumphs. At first I was taken aback by the striking similarity between the actors and their real-life counterparts: Helen Mirren (who deserves the Oscar for this, perhaps her greatest performance) is frighteningly like the Queen in every respect, right down to pronouncing "Diana" with the stress on the first syllable - something only the Queen does. Michael Sheen's Blair was spot on too: that nervous chuckle, the grin, the walk. James Cromwell is uncannily like the Duke of Edinburgh...

I'd forgotten that these events took place almost immediately after New Labour's accession to power, and thinking of things in these terms sheds new light on the significance of the public reaction. The Tories had finally been kicked out of Westminster, there was a great sense of expectation, of change, and the questioning of the monarchy's relevance seems to go hand in hand with that new-found optimism. The film reminds us that Blair at least set out to be a "moderniser", and the Queen even asks whether he is "planning to modernise us".

Whether or not what happened during that week can be called "modernisation", it certainly shook the very foundations of the institution of the monarchy in Britain. I found it interesting how often people in the audience here laughed at what they saw. Yes, some of it is comical, but it's important to remember that the Royals really are like this; one of the many strengths of the film is that it never descends into parody and caricature. All in all I found watching "The Queen" a truly visceral experience - the likeness of the actors, the real archive footage, the sentiments of the time, the hysteria - and wept through much of it. I'm not exactly sure why. Perhaps it's something to do with our shared humanity, the unifying power of grief, and the sheer Britishness of it all.