Clint Eastwood: A man's man. An appreciation.

Last night I settled to watch 'Unforgiven', Eastswood's Oscar winning western. I had watched it many times before and will do so again. For me, it vies with 'Pale Rider' as his finest western. However, I wish to share the effect of Eastwood's films rather than discuss their merits. All my adult life I have enjoyed his movies. I used to feel that I walked taller having seen one of his films. When young, I wanted to walk taller, be stronger, more adventurous, and, to some extent, the films were an encouragement. I do not suggest that I modelled myself on him; I didn't. My environment was different and certainly less confrontational.

Now in my 60s, I find the independence of mind and action to be the most attractive feature. He portrays a man who walks his own path, who is immune to opposition, who seeks no-one's approval yet is granted it, often reluctantly, by both allies and enemies. This has not always been my experience. I have wanted to belong, and to be approved of, to be thought of as doing a good job and, as a consequence, have seldom had that independence of thought and action. I am fortunate that on occasion, I have found myself able to act on my initiative and been blessed with a degree of success. But that has not relieved me of the desire, even need, for approbation.

I have known and worked with those who appeared to rise above such feebleness. Approval seemed to be their natural condition; confidence in their ability streamed from their convicition of that ability. Whether this was imbued by family, school or background probably neither they nor I could say. That it existed was not in doubt. Beside them, I could only aspire. No doubt in such company something rubs off. Their confidence was never a subject of discussion being just part of their outlook. There is little doubt that arrogance constantly hovered around them but, in most cases, was kept in check and a little arrogance with good humour can be entertaining. The extent to which that confidence was shot through them, like rock, I cannot say. It is probably only human to doubt oneself occasionally. In that respect, I was infinitely more human.

In all of his films, Clint Eastwood is a loner, just too difficult to live with. He attracts, but only for a while before unattractive reality makes itself felt. In 'Unforgiven' his 29 year old wife has died before the start of the film, having done a fine job of reforming the outlaw. However, even in his reformed state he is not well equipped for the task of bringing up two children. He, like me, probably made an adequate job of it by providing a clearly defined world for the children. Like him, I have been able to attract but not to hold. After three attempts, and the ravages of prostate cancer, I am now, like Clint Eastwood, alone. To describe my delight in my liberated condition is to risk being unfair to those who were brave, and loving, enough to marry me. I wish no such criticism. I cannot be a mysoginist, for I have loved women; many of them. I still love the image of woman, but the reality I can now do without.

Clint Eastwood makes me proud to be a man though now one of little or no consequence. At least I have man in me. I cannot aspire to be what he portrays but I can experience it vicariously. Thank you Clint, for all you have been for me.

Andre Rieu's Music Magic

I am not the first to have discovered Andre Rieu. At large open-air concerts across Europe and the world, hundreds of thousands have delighted in his eclectic repetoire. I may, however, be the latest. Yesterday I watched several hours of concert from Kerkgarde in his native Holland and from the Schonbrunn in Vienna. I was struck by the wide range of ages in the audience and the obvious enjoyment of his music. That music ranged from famous opera choruses, through light opera and musical choruses, to waltzes and folk music and even nursery rhymes. Nor were the concerts without spectacle and humour. Watching the Vienna State Opera and Ballet dancing to the Blue Danube and Emperor Waltz in the beautiful ballrooms of the Schonbrunn was magical. In the staduim in Kerkgarde, at one point the music was accompanied by young riders from the Bismark Riding School in bright non-military uniforms. All of this was enthusiastically appreciated by the audience.

Andre Rieu is an incomparable showman as well as a virtuoso violinist. He leads and conducts centre stage with verve and abundant enthusiasm. His Johann Strauss Orchestra is as vivid. The ladies wear bright ballgowns giving the orchestra a colourful and vibrant feel. The white tie and tails of the men nicely balance the look. He introduces novelty items to keep the atmosphere light. In Kerkgarde, he brought on a 3 year old boy called Akim who played a violin concertina with the orchestra, from memory! Quite extraordinary.

As I was enjoying the concerts, I wondered whether we in England would have been as appreciative. I compared it in my mind to Concert in the Park reflecting that that was about big name singers, Pavarotti or the Three Tenors. Those were great concerts by outstanding musicians. But often we, as a nation, seem unduly impressed with those served up to us by slick marketing campaigns, sometimes despite their apparent lack of talent. How would such wholesome musical entertainment be received? Would we be able to fill an 18,000 seat stadium with young and old, black and white, to enjoy an evening of muscial merriment? Or are we just too jaded?

With concerts planned in Newcastle, Manchester, London and Birmingham in December 2012, I guess the answer is no. I feel encouraged. Perhaps good wholesome family musical entertainment, well done, is still appealing. Perhaps the cynical, celebrity England so often portrayed is another artifical creation. If so, lets encourage its early demise.