Yesterday I was reading the weekend edition of the Irish Times and came across this article:
It was only afterwards that the name of the author, Hagai El-Ad rang a bell. When I did a search for his name I found his wikipedia page that describes him as an “Israeli LGBT and human rights activist”. When I read further I remembered that I met him years ago at a conference in Casablanca, called From Quantum Fluctuations to Cosmic Structures, when he was a budding physics student with an interest in cosmology, especially in cosmic voids. I was alarmed to realize that conference was in 1996! How can it have been 30 years ago? Hagai El-Ad subsequently co-wrote a paper on the subject of cosmic voids.
I guess he gave up the cosmology to concentrate on more pressing matters, but this goes to show it is a small world (but a big Universe).
A while ago I was listening to a radio broadcast of a recording from last year’s Wexford Festival Opera. The Opera in question was Handel’s Deidamia. In fact you can see a video of the whole performance here. Like most baroque operas, the plot of Deidamia is rather complex but it is drawn directly from familiar Greek legend, and features Achilles and Ulysses. The former spends much of the opera dressed in women’s clothing because his father Peleus doesn’t want him dragged off to fight in the Trojan War and has hidden him on the island of Skyros among the daughters of his friend Lycomedes. Eventually Ulysses lands on Skyros to try to persuade Achilles to lead his army, but the disguise is so good that he fails to identify him. He does however develop a bit of a crush on the hot young girl Pyrrha, who is actually Achilles in drag…
I won’t give any more spoilers because the Opera Deidamia is not really the point of this post, which is that the part of Pyrrha is written for a soprano. It’s not unusual in Handel’s operas for a male part to be sung by a woman – as indeed this part was when it was first performed in London in January 1741 or a castrato. The practice of castrating boys to prevent their voices breaking has long been discontinued, thankfully, so I assumed that the voice I had been listening to was that of a female singer. Then, in the interval, I learnt that this part was actually sung by a man, Bruno de Sá. Here he is in a short clip from that production.
Bruno de Sá is a sopranist, a man whose modal voice is in the soprano register, i.e. he sings that high without using falsetto. I’ve seen and heard quite a few operas in my time but I didn’t realise that there was such a thing as a sopranist. You live and learn!
I did a bit of searching on the interwebs and found the following clip which shows another sopranist, Samuel Mariño, having fun in a duet with an oboist at a concert in Versailles:
Samuel Mariño is from Venezuela. He is gay and was bullied at school when he was young for that, and for the fact that his voice didn’t break when he reached adolescence. He sought medical advice to see if he could have surgery to lower his voice, but the doctor instead suggested he embark on a career as an opera singer. And that’s what he did. Don’t be fooled by the fun he is having in that clip; he’s not some sort of novely act, he’s a very serious vocal artist.
I find his story very inspiring because of his determination to follow his own path and I love the above clip because it is so joyful. It warms this old gay’s heart to see someone daring to be different and making such a success of it.
My attention was drawn yesterday to an article in New Scientist with the following introduction:
You would think I would have known about the fact that men with older brothers are more likely to be gay, but this was news to me. The Fraternal Birth Order Effect does seems to have been well established since its discovery in the 1990s. The explanation proposed at the time attributed the effect to a prenatal biological mechanism, as the association is only present in men with older biological brothers, and not present among men with older step-brothers. Hypothesized to be the result of a maternal immune response to male foetuses, whereby antibodies neutralize male Y-proteins thought to play a role in sexual differentiation during development, it would leave some regions of the male brain in the ‘female typical’ arrangement – resulting in attraction to males.
The origin of the effect seems plausible to me, though I’m not an expert on such matters. I have no idea why it has taken 30 years to find a similar effect with older sisters. In the interest of full disclosure, I should state that I have an older brother and no other siblings.
My worry with studies like this is not their scientific validity but the use that others may make of the findings. In the wrong hands, this feature of pre-natal development could easily be presented as some sort of defect, leading to all kinds of nasty ideas about how to “correct” it.
More sad news arrived yesterday in the death of Tim Curry It’s only just over a year ago that I did a post celebrating his first famous role in the Rocky Horror Picture Show. He did many of other things and played many other parts, including a memorable range of over-the-top camp villains, but it is as Frank-N-Furter that I shall remember him best:
The Rocky Horror Picture Show is redolent with nostalgia for my days in Brighton in the Eighties. For a time I lived in a shared house not far from the Duke of York’s Picture House which had fairly frequent late-night showings of Rocky Horror, but it wasn’t just a question of going to see the film. It was obligatory to dress up like the characters, join in the dancing, squirt water pistols to recreate the rain, throw rice during the wedding scene, etc.
The first time I went – I think it was in 1986 – it took me ages to find an outfit resembling that of Dr. Frank-N-Furter, the mad scientist played by Tim Curry in the film. I eventually found suitable lingerie items in shops but failed when it came to the shoes. I couldn’t find stilettos in a size 11 anywhere. That’s probably just as well as I don’t think I’d have been able to walk in them anyway. I settled for a pair of Doctor Martens boots. I had longer hair in those days so a bit of gel did the trick for that, and a friend did the make-up for me. I had to shave my legs to wear the fishnet stockings too. I rather enjoyed dressing up, going to the show and, especially, the after-party…
I never got into the habit of cross-dressing, and haven’t got the figure for it now, but I am not at all ashamed to admit that I think some guys look very hot in lipstick and lingerie…
Country Music isn’t really my thing, but I was very sad when I heard the news a couple of days ago about the death of Dolly Parton. So sad, in fact, that I felt I had to wait a while before posting anything. I have little to add to the obituaries about her now, but I’ll just mention some things that I liked about her. O
One is that she was totally accepting of the LGBTQ+ people, which is why she was adopted so enthusiastically even by people like me who aren’t really country music fans. Her unofficial motto was “Find out who you are and do it on purpose”. That is admirable advice. Even during the ongoing backlash of bigotry she stood her ground. For that alone I would mourn her passing.
The second thing that I should say mention is her philanthropy. She was a tireless supporter of good causes, especially her wonderful Imagination Library (which has had a branch in the Republic of Ireland since 2019). This exists to encourage young children to read by giving them free books. Here in Ireland An Post delivers them for free too. As well as this and other public initiatives there are countless private acts of kindness, little gifts and words of encouragement. These days it seems unfashionable to be both rich and generous. Certainly one can’t imagine Musk, Zuckerberg, Bezos and their ilk giving any of their vast fortunes to any good cause.
Another thing about Dolly Parton that I adored was her self-deprecating humour. I regularly saw her on TV disarming someone who tried to mock her style and appearance by parodying herself. She always seemed to be down-to-earth and completely without pretentions. Of course I never met Dolly Parton, but I really think I would have liked her if I had.
I’ve already stated that I am not the biggest fan of Country Music but some of Dolly Parton’s songs crossed over and became huge popular hits. This one is one that I really do like. This is the original version of I Will Always Love You later covered by Whitney Houston, but I like it this version better. Incidentally, it was written on the same day as another smash hit of hers, Jolene.
Today has been a very frustrating day from the point of view of travel – apparently it’s too hot for trains to function – but at least that gave me time to read the book Invisible Rainbows by Dr Alfredo Carpineti (left). This is an engaging and nicely written tour of what we know (and don’t know) about the Universe organized by wavelength of electromagnetic radiation, from radio through microwaves and infrared, to ultraviolet and X-rays to gamma rays. All the wavebands outside the range of human perception, in fact.
What makes this book different from others that have taken the same general approach is that he builds that fairly conventional narrative around conversations with LGBTQIA+ scientists to demonstrate how diverse perspectives have contributed to the advancement of astronomy, astrophysics and cosmology.
There are even a couple of quotes from yours truly, but it’s not just for vanity’s sake that I’m very happy to see this book published. It’s very nicely written and offers a very new perspective on science as a human endeavour. This definitely the first astrophysics book I’ve seen with a dedication “For all the queer kids reaching for the stars”. I guess I was one of those once! The book is at times humorous, even cheeky, but always driven by a passion for astrophysics and the celebration of human diversity. I wish I had I time to read it before Pride Month, but I’m nevertheless very proud to have featured even in a tiny way in such a delightful book.
It’s been three days now since Pride in London and I think it’s time to post a few pictures to show I was actually there.
My partner took a bit of persuading to come along – he’s not out (for good reasons) and does not like the idea of having pictures on the internet. He detests social media too and, unusually for a person his age, has no instagram or tiktok or anything else.
He thought it would be hard to avoid being pictured. Anyway, we found a fairly unobtrusive spot and although he was a bit nervous at first he soon relaxed and started to enjoy it. Some people took pics of the crowds lining the route, but there was a convenient tree for him to hide behind. We stayed several hours, actually, and the parade was still passing our place at the end of Piccadilly when we left, so it must have been a very long parade.
A wonderful thing happened, halfway through our stay at the Parade: we held hands in public for the first time. That may not seem much but it meant a great deal to me. I often hear people saying that Pride is no longer needed, but remember that not everyone has an understanding family or grew up in an accepting environment. It’s taken two and a half years to get this far. It’s not the sort of “progress” that the “pride progress” flag is supposed to represesent, but it’s progress nonetheless.
I spent today in London, wandering about and visiting various locations I haven’t seen for a while, including the Science Museum (near where I’m staying) and Tate Modern (not near where I’m staying). The Science Museum has changed quite a bit since my last visit there many moons ago, but it still reminded me of Toby Esterhase’s description in Smiley’s People:
In the Science Museum, top floor. All those airplanes. Lot of kiddies eating crisps.
There was indeed a lot of kiddies, this being peak season for school trips, and the aeroplanes are still there. On the way from the Science Museum to Tate Modern, I bumped into some members of the union Unite from the Institute of Cancer Research who were at outside South Kensington tube station protesting about pay and conditions, and promised to send a message of solidarity on social media, which I hereby do.
Unite MembersOn the way to Tate Modern
Tate Modern was really good, if also busy with a lot of kiddies. I particularly enjoyed The Tanks, in one of which there is an eerily lit exhibition of Giacometti scupltures and another an installation by Nora Chipaumire called Gadzi, which includes sculpted and audio elements between which you can sit or move around. One of the interesting things about installations like this is watching what other people do: some were sitting on the large loudspeakers playing the music, others moving around to experience changes in the sonic experience.
After Tate Modern I dropped in at the HQ of the Elon Musk Appreciation Society Royal Society in Carlton House Terrace. This is the time of year for the annual Summer Science Exhbition. Note the Pride Progress flag flying outside. Inside was another lot of kiddies but quite a few adults too. Out of the thirteen exhibits, three were directly relevant to my own science area: one from the Simons Observatory, one from Durham University about galaxy formation simulations, and also one from Euclid. Here is Andy Taylor from Edinburgh at the latter, explaining B-modes to visitors:
The Pride Progress flag reminds me to explain, as if you hadn’t realized, that tomorrow (4th July) is the day of the Pride in London parade. Having a meeting to attend this week and another thing to do in London next week, it proved impossible to resist staying over the weekend. Now I’ll have to finish this blog as I have to meet a certain person off the train who is coincidentally flying in especially tonight to stay with me for this very special weekend.
P.S. It was very warm today, and set to get even warmer going into next week…
Today brought sad news of the death of artist David Hockney at the age of 88. Hockney was one of the leaders in the pop art movement, which involved assimilating and distilling ideas from popular culture and his career spanned painting, drawing, photography, printmaking and stage design. The last exhibition I saw by him consisted of wonderful drawings done on an IPad. That was about 15 years ago; he remained remarkably active and productive well into old age.
Throughout his career, Hockney’s work was often inspired by his fascination with light, especially its interplay with water, as well as his unique sense of space and unusual use of colour. His most famous early expressions of these were realised in California, where he became obsessed with the bright sunshine and the plethora of swimming pools.
As Hockney’s fame grew his work became very collectible, commanding huge prices at auction, so much of it ended up in private collections. This large-scale work, A Bigger Splash, painted in 1967, followed a smaller painting, The Splash (1966). The earlier work fetched around $30M at auction and is in a private collection, but A Bigger Splash can be seen at Tate Britain. The spare composition and distinctive palette are his instantly recognisable trademarks.
A Bigger Splash by David Hockney (1967, Acrylic on Canvas, 242.5 × 243.9 cm, Tate Britain, London)
Update: here’s a very poignant cartoon by Ben Jennings.
I just watched a nice documentary programme on the Irish language channel TG4 in the series Scéalta Grá na h’Éireann (Ireland’s Greatest Loves). This one was about Lady Eleanor Charlotte Butler and the Honourable Sarah Ponsonby, often called The Ladies of Llangollen. The programme is available on the TG4 Player, actually, and it is possible I think to watch the whole thing anywhere in the world for free here. There’s also a little trailer on Youtube:
There’s an entire wikipedia page devoted to the Ladies of Llangollen, so there’s no need to reproduce it all here. However, for the sake of you who haven’t heard of them, they were. They were of Anglo-Irish extraction, both born in Ireland, and had been brought up just a few miles away from each other. They met in 1768 and immediately hit it off. They ran off together to avoid being forced into unwanted marriages, and moved to Wales in order to set up home at Plas Newydd, near Llangollen in Denbighshire, in 1780.
They lived together for the best part of 50 years in Plas Newydd, in relative seclusion, devoting their time to private studies of literature and languages and improving their estate, comprehensively redesigning the house in a Gothic style, and adding a superb garden. They did not actively socialise and town-dwellers of Llangollen seem to have regarded them as eccentrics, simply referring to them as “The Ladies”.
Gradually, their life attracted the interest of the outside world. Their house became a haven for all manner of visitors, mostly writers such as Wordsworth, Robert Southey, Shelley, Byron and Scott, but also the military leader Duke of Wellington and industrialist Josiah Wedgwood; aristocratic novelist Caroline Lamb, who was born a Ponsonby, came to visit too. Even travellers from continental Europe had heard of the couple and came to visit them, for instance Prince Hermann von Pückler-Muskau, the German nobleman and landscape designer who wrote admiringly about them.
The story of the “romantic friendship” between these two ladies is both charming and moving, but it’s also fascinating to learn how their lifestyle was accepted and even celebrated by wider society. One might have thought their relationship would have been regarded as scandalous by their contemporaries, rather than being widely admired as it turned out to be. One is tempted to assume that their “marriage” had a sexual dimension, which it may well have done, but it could have been a platonic, yet still romantic, friendship. As far as I’m concerned, that doesn’t really matter; what I find inspiring about them is that they dared to be different.
Anyway, here is the beautiful sonnet that William Wordsworth wrote after meeting the Ladies of Llangollen in 1824, although I believe the Ladies took exception to the description of their magnificent house as a “low-roofed cot”!
A stream, to mingle with your favourite Dee, Along the vale of meditation flows; So styled by those fierce Britons, pleased to see In Nature's face the expression of repose; Or haply there some pious hermit chose To live and die, the peace of heaven his aim; To whom the wild sequestered region owes At this late day, its sanctifying name. Glyn Cafaillgaroch, in the Cambrian tongue, In ours, the Vale of Friendship, let 'this' spot Be named; where, faithful to a low-roofed Cot, On Deva's banks, ye have abode so long; Sisters in love, a love allowed to climb, Even on this earth, above the reach of Time!
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