Culture

Donizetti’s La fille du régiment is one of his three comedies that retain a place in the repertoire. It is mainly celebrated for its hero Tonio’s aria ‘Pour mon âme’, which has a succession of nine top Cs, a great stunt for a tenor who can pull it, or them, off, but without artistic interest. But the opera is usually revived for the benefit of a prima donna who wants to demonstrate her comic prowess, as expressed largely in reams of coloratura. The famous Covent Garden revival of 1966 was a vehicle for Joan Sutherland to demonstrate a side which she found more congenial than the droopings or rages which she normally had to deliver, though for many of us it was the enchanting singing of the young Pavarotti which provided the main pleasure.

Attentive readers will recall that, in recent years, I have worried and wittered and wrung my hands in these pages about the increasing incidents of unusual weather episodes (OK, have it your own way, climate change) and, in particular, whether these ‘abnormal’ conditions are simply temporary blips or represent a definite trend. No longer. I don’t mean that I have stopped worrying, simply that I no longer believe that they are a temporary blip. Just at the moment it is winter temperatures which particularly concern me.

I wonder whether Tony (‘Education, education, education’) Blair or any of his cohorts in the Education Department were listening to the BBC World Service’s School Day 24 last week. Children from around the world were brought together in live link-ups as part of the BBC’s Generation Next week of programmes designed to give young people, aged from 12 to 18, the chance to air their views, dominate the agenda, talk to each other across religious and ethnic frontiers. Mr Blair might have questioned the success of those ‘literacy hours’ after hearing the kids from a school in north London alongside those from New Delhi and Dar es Salaam. It was not that the English teenagers were lacking in confidence or self-expression.

This being the Spectator’s bumper Christmas issue, we asked the television companies for a few seasonal preview discs. There wasn’t much ‘ho, ho, ho!’ about any of them. Some were merely grim: Three Kings at War (Channel 4, Thursday), for example, chronicled how three cousins — George V, Czar Nicholas and Kaiser Bill — helped, through their own stupidity, to bring about the death of millions. Channel 4 also offered a three-part set — The True Voice of Rape (Monday), The True Voice of Prostitution (Tuesday) and The True Voice of Murder (Wednesday). Uncork the eggnog now! To be fair, The True Voice series contained powerful material. The problem was that — to protect the victims — their words were voiced by actors.

Georg Gerster (born 1928) is a Swiss photographer who specialises in shooting from above. For more than 40 years he has been taking aerial photographs, and has flown over 111 countries. Concentrating on archaeological and heritage sites, Gerster has made what might accurately be called an ‘overview’ that has greatly enhanced our archaeological understanding. His pictures have been reproduced in National Geographic and used on Swissair posters and calendars. He is what you might call a popular photographer, and a very fine one. The current exhibition of his work at the British Museum presents his photographs in a very low-key way: blown-up and unframed, they resemble illustrations from a magazine or subsidiary information panels rather than exhibits.

In November 1905, in the Galerie Ernst Arnold, four young architecture students from the Dresden Technical School had their first encounter with Vincent van Gogh. Only six months earlier, Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, Erich Heckel, Karl Schmidt-Rottluff and Fritz Bleyl had formed an avant-garde artists’ group, Die Brücke (The Bridge), to represent ‘all who express directly and truthfully what urges them to create’. At the sight of 54 paintings by van Gogh, remembered a teacher, they ‘went wild’. The extraordinary impact of one man’s singular vision on the birth of modern art in Germany and Austria is the subject of an ambitious new exhibition at the Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam.