My comment on the Six Nations so far

I am hopeless at drawing, as you can see.

But having been watching the Six Nations rugby tournament for the last few weeks, and having in particular been listening to the various television commentators, I feel the need to offer you all this attempt at a cartoon.

Anyone who wants to copy this, or indeed copy it and improve the graphics, is most welcome. I am surely not the first to have thought of this particular observation.

(There was a bit of fiddling about with the presentation of this, on account of my software not actually showing me exactly how a posting like this will look. Sorry about that.)

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog

UPS drones and drone vans

Another drone application hovers into view:

Yes, it’s UPS:

“This is really a vision for the future for us,” UPS senior vice president for engineering and sustainability, Mark Wallace, said in an interview with Business Insider.

The drone will work as a mechanized helper for the driver, reducing the number of miles a driver will need to drive. According to Wallace, UPS can save $50 million a year if everyone of its drivers reduces the length of their delivery routes by one mile.

UPS sees several potential usage cases for its autonomous drones. This ranges from inventory control at warehouses to the delivery of urgent packages such as medical supplies. However, this latest test is geared towards the company’s  operations in rural areas where drivers have to cover vast distances between delivery points.

But all this is still some way off:

Currently, the technology [is] still in the testing phase and UPS doesn’t have an exact timeline for its introduction into service, Wallace said.

Timeline being the twenty first century way of saying: time. See also learning curve (learning); learning experience (fuck-up); etc.

I once had a job delivering number plates, in a white van, all over Britain. Much of it was lots of unassembled number plate components in big heavy boxes, to big suppliers, which we delivered direct. And the rest of the job was one-off finished number plates to motorbike shops, which the other drivers often used to deliver by posting them. I always went there direct, because I enjoyed the drive, but either way the economics of those one-off number plates was ridiculous. A drone to do the final thirty miles or so would have been most handy, if it could have been organised. (A digital camera would have been very nice also. But alas, I had to wait a quarter of a century for that.)

The serious point: drones are useful tools for running big and visible and trustable (because so easily embarrassable and controlable) businesses, for example the big and very visible enterprise that provided this. Drones are, basically, tools for workers rather that toys for funsters. They may supply fun, but they will mostly be operated by workers.

In London anyway. Things may be different out in the wilds of the countryside. But even taking photos out in the wilds of Yorkshire involves – I bet – getting some kind of permit. If not, it soon will. Because there will be complaints, and drones are highly visible.

Also audible, yes? Anyone know how noisy drones tend to be? 6K? How noisy is your drone?

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog

The outdoor map next to the Twelvetrees Crescent Bridge over the River Lea

I like London’s (England’s?) long, thin, very vertical, outdoor maps. Whenever I am out and about photoing, I photo them:

There’s nothing like a photo of a map with “You are here” on it, to tell you exactly where you were. That’s where I was, early on, on the day I later took these pictures.

Seriously, it is often quite difficult to work out exactly where I was when I look through the products of one of my photographic perambulations. This kind of snap turns it from difficult to obvious.

Especially if you can actually see the bit where it says “You are here”, like this:

I’ve recently been on several expeditions to this intriguing part of London, with its convoluted waterways. Maps are nice, but there’s no substitute for actually being there. With a camera.

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog

Guess what this is

I’ve been meaning to post this image here for some time:

Guess what it is. If in doubt, look at the categories list below. Then go here, to confirm what you must surely have worked out.

Many have described the event at which this happened as historic, but not because of this. But I reckon what you see in the above picture is what historians will end up being most impressed by, about this event, because it was a very public manifestation of a very impressive sort of technology, which is going to have a very big future.

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog

Shopping Trolley Spiral beside the River Lea

Yesterday I told you about a photo I took on January 20th of this year. Earlier that day I had journeyed to Bromley-By-Bow tube station, then walked south along the River Lea, and ended my wanderings at Star Lane Station. It was a great day for photoing, and I especially enjoyed photoing this witty sculpture:

But who did it? This evening I realised that I seemed to recall Mick Hartley having something to say about this, and so it proved.

It’s by Abigail Fallis, and it is called DNA DL90. Well, I say that’s what it’s called. That’s what Abigail Fallis called it, but I bet nobody else calls it that. I bet what most people call it is more like: Shopping Trolley Spiral. I’m guessing further that Abigail Fallis regards her sculpture as some kind of critique of late capitalist consumerism. But such ArtGrumbling need not stop the rest of us thoroughly enjoying the thing, and also continuing to relish our trips to the supermarket, there to sample the delights of early capitalism. Because you see, Abigail, capitalism is just getting started.

Yes. I was right. Says Hartley:

It is, says Fallis, a symbol of modern society’s consumer culture, which has now become entwined in our genetic make-up. They can’t help themselves, can they, these artists?

The usual bitch about Artsists is that they are predictable, and indeed they are. But this was something else again. I literally predicted this, before I read it. How predictable is that? Very, very.

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog

A list of well-known currently performing classical pianists

Classical music making is mostly museum curation. Nothing wrong with that, because it is the best museum ever. But that is what it mostly is. Perhaps for this reason, it has long been speculated that classical music would soon stop being re-performed or re-recorded. But there seems to be little sign of this happening.

Here, to illustrate the non-demise of classical music making, is a list of currently performing pianists. It was rather hastily compiled. Perhaps some of those listed have retired. Some may even have died. And there are surely many omissions, including, quite possibly, some major omissions, including, for instance people who I am assuming to be retired or dead who are nothing of the kind.

Also, there must be a huge number of Asian pianists who are very, very good, but who I have simply not noticed the existence of. I live in London, and this list surely reflects that, both with its inclusions and its exclusions.

The number at the end of each clutch is simply me counting how many there are starting with each letter, thereby making it easier for me to count the total. It came to: 175.

Depending on how you determine inclusion or exclusion, the list could be far longer. I went for things like: Have I personally heard of them? Have they done recent recording? Are they hailed as good by classical music critics? Do I personally like their playing?

I seriously doubt whether there have ever before been as many pianists roaming the earth, performing this amazing music, mostly by dead people.

So, here we go:

Pierre-Laurent Aimard – Dimitri Alexeev – Piotr Anderszewski – Leif Ove Andsnes – Nicholas Angelich – Martha Argerich – Vladimir Ashkenazy – Yulianna Avdeeva – (8)

Sergei Babayan – Andrea Bacchetti – Daniel Barenboim – Martin James Bartlett – Jean-Efflam-Bavouzet – Alessio Bax – Mark Bebbington – Markus Becker – Boris Berezovsky – Boris Berman – Michel Beroff – Kristian Bezuidenhout – Jonathan Biss – Christian Blackshaw – Rafal Blechacz – Frank Braley – Ronald Brautigam – Yefim Bronfman – Rudolf Buchbinder – Khatia Buniatishvili – (20)

Bertrand Chamayou – Frederic Chiu – Seong-Jin Cho – Arnaldo Cohen – Imogen Cooper – (5)

Alexandra Dariescu – Lise de la Salle – Jorg Demus – Jeremy Denk – Peter Donohoe – Barry Douglas – Danny Driver – Francois-Rene Duchable (8)

Severin von Eckardstein – Michael Endres – Karl Engel – (3)

Til Fellner – Vladimir Feltsman – Janina Fialkowska – Ingrid Fliter – David Fray – Nelson Freire – Benjamin Frith – (7)

Ivana Gavric – Alexander Gavrylyuk – Boris Giltberg – Havard Gimse – Bernd Glemser – Nelson Goerner – Anna Gourari – David Greilsammer – Helene Grimaud – Benjamin Grosvenor – Horacio Guitierrez – Francois-Frederic Guy – (12)

Marc-Andre Hamelin – Wolf Harden – Rustem Hayrouodinoff – Martin Helmchen – Angela Hewitt – Peter Hill – Ian Hobson – Stephen Hough – Leslie Howard – Ching-Yun Hu – Bruce Hungerford – (11)

Valentina Igoshina – Ivan Ilic – (2)

Peter Jablonski – Paul Jacobs – Ingrid Jakoby – Martin Jones – (3)

Cyprien Katsaris – Freddy Kempf – Kevin Kenner – Olga Kern – Evgeny Kissin – Mari Kodama – Pavel Kolesnikov – (7)

Piers Lane – Lang Lang – Dejan Lazic – Eric Le Sage – John Lenehan – Elizabeth Leonskaja – Igor Levit – Daniel Levy – Paul Lewis – Yundi Li – Jenny Lin – Jan Lisiecki – Valentina Lisitsa – Louis Lortie = Alexei Lubimov – Nikolai Lugansky – (16)

Joanna MacGregor – Alexander Madzar – Oleg Marshev – Denis Matsuev – Leon McCawley – Alexander Melnikov – Gabriela Montero – Joseph Moog – Vanessa Benelli Mosell – Olli Mustonen – (10)

Jon Nakamatsu – Eldar Nebolsin – Francesco Nikolosi – David Owen Norris – (4)

Noriko Ogawa – Garrick Ohlsson – Gerhard Oppitz – Christina Ortiz – Steven Osborne – Alice Sara Ott – (6)

Enrico Pace – Murray Perahia – Javier Perianes – Alfredo Perl – Maria Perrotta – Daniel-Ben Pienaar – Maria Joao Pires – Artur Pizarro – Jonathan Plowright – Awadagin Pratt – Menahem Pressler – Vassily Primakov – (12)

Beatrice Rana – James Rhodes – Pascal Roge – Alexander Romanovsky – Martin Roscoe – Michael Rudy – (6)

Fazil Say – Konstantin Scherbakov – Andras Schiff – Dimitris Sgouros – Howard Shelley – Grigory Sokolov – Andreas Staier – Kathryn Stott – Martin Stadtfeld – Yevgeny Sudbin – (10)

Alexandre Tharaud – Jean-Yves Thibaudet – Cedric Tiberghien – Sergio Tiempo – Geoffrey Tozer – Daniil Trifonov – Simon Trpceski – Noboyuki Tsujii – (9)

Mitsuko Uchida – Florian Uhlig – (2)

Nick Van Bloss – Denes Varjon – Stephan Vladar – Lars Vogt – Arcadi Volodos – (6)

Wiayin Wang – Yuja Wang – Ashley Wass – Llyr Williams – Ingolf Wunder – Klara Wurtz – (6)

Christian Zacharias – Krystian Zimmerman – (2)

That’s a lot of pianists. All the major items of the piano repertoire have each received numerous recordings, and they each get performed somewhere on earth about every other day, and in the case of the popular piano concertos, several times a day. It just refuses to stop. The classical audience keeps aging, and then dying, only to be replaced by more aging people, who also then die, and so it goes on.

Real comments here are very rare, so all real comments on this would be very welcome. But especially welcome would be comments informing me of major omissions to that list.

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog

Quota coloured lights outside the Royal Festival Hall

I did my talk, and it was well received, but now I am too knackered to offer anything here but a quota photo:

Photoed by me on January 10th 2007, in other words ten years minus four days ago.

I like the contrast between the coloured lights, done with plastic bottles, and the monochrome surroundings. I remember those lights, and photoing them.

My camera back then wasn’t that good in low light. But it did okay for these photos, from which I picked the one I liked best.

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog

Something there

Nothing here today, but something there. Another case of starting something for here, but putting it there, as was this.

Spent my evening getting my colour printer back in business. Took me five minutes to find the on/off switch.

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog

Quota construction

I’ve spent my day pondering my talk on Friday evening, so here, it’s quota photo time, four of them, taken last October:

What we are looking at is the building activity now happening between Waterloo Station and the river, photoed from the Waterloo Station side.

I fear that this buildings are going to have looked prettier when being built than when built.

Hope I’m wrong.

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog

What I’ll be talking about this coming Friday

Christian Michel hosts talks he calls 6/20 talks, because they happen on the 6th and the 20th of the month. And this coming Friday, Jan 6th, I am giving a talk, about politics and aesthetics, and how they interact.

This is the email I sent to talk host Christian Michel, about what I will be saying, or more precisely, what I will be asking:

My talk will be about what we each think is the truth about politics, and about how that relates to what we each think is beautiful.

What are your political opinions? What are your ideas of beauty? How do these things relate to each other?

Are your political loyalties and beliefs the result of your already existing ideas about what is beautiful? Did you arrive at your political views because you think that the political world you desire would be beautiful, as you already understood that?

Or, is it more the other way around? Do your present ideas of what is beautiful result from what you have already decided is the political truth of things? Would your politics lead to a world that looks a particular way, and do you therefore consider that world to be beautiful?

Or, for you, do the causal links go in both directions? That certainly applies to me.

Or, do the above questions rather baffle you? Because for you, what is politically true and what is beautiful are two entirely separate issues? For many who, like me, call themselves libertarians, I should guess that this might be the answer, even though this is definitely not my answer.

I put my subject matter in the form of questions, because I hope that potential attenders will receive advance notice of these question, and that some attenders at least will arrive with their own answers.

I will supply introspected answers about my own political and aesthetic preferences and how they are related, a lot of them involving architecture. But I hope I will speak briefly enough to leave plenty of time for others to offer their answers to my questions. Or, of course, to say that the questions are silly, or whatever else they want to say about what I have said.

My current plan is to read out the above, and then illustrate it with some personal examples, and with some other examples that seem to be quite common, and commonly talked about.

My personal examples involve things like the extraordinary aesthetic appeal of American stuff, like their cars and their fighter jets, which got me thinking about why America actually worked better than the USSR, whose stuff seemed to be grey and dull and unglamorous by comparison. That got me started towards being a libertarian, I think, way back in the 1950s.

In a related way, I then began to observe that British public sector architecture, which set the tone of the entire architectural scene in the sixties and seventies, had that same Soviet style drabness about it. Modern architecture only became flash and glamorous, in the eighties.

All that, among other things, turned me into a libertarian. And since then, I have tended to like the look of physical assemblages of objects that strike me as embodying liberty. Skyscraper clusters and roof clutter being good examples. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be so fond of roof clutter in particular if I had more bossy tastes in politics, if you get my drift.

That’s a pretty simplified summary of some of my aesthetic-political thoughts-feelings. But it suffices to illustrate the kind of thing I’ll be talking about.

As for similar stories told by others, I am struck by how an architectural style is often regarded as ugly, while it is advancing and hence seen as threatening, but later regarded with affection, once it has been defeated and is in retreat. This happened with the New Brutalism, widely hated during its years of ascendancy, now only in the news because some now want its surviving edifices to be legally preserved.

On a huge, historic scale, this is what has happened with Norman castles. Feared and hated when built, and for centuries after. Now quaint and picturesque tourist traps. Same kind of thing with big steam locomotives, at first feared and hated, now worshipped.

Many feel threatened by the very contemporary architecture that I personally like, and that’s because they see it, as do I, as embodying the very free market (-ish) ideas that I like, and that they dislike. It’s more complicated than that. But again, you get the idea.

My intention is to rattle through what I have to say quickly, to leave plenty of time for attenders to offer similar aesthetic-political memoirs of their own.

I’m putting this here so I can link to it in emails to potential attenders. Emails work better when they are short, but when they can be lengthened, so to speak, by those reading.

If you want to know how to attend this talk, or other talks in the same series, email me (see here top left) or leave a comment and I’ll put you in touch with Christian Michel.

Originally posted at Brian Micklethwait’s Old Blog