Friday 14 September 2012

a private joy




The BBC World Service has asked me to comment on the publication today of pictures of the Duchess of Cambridge by the French edition of Closer Magazine:



Thank you for inviting me to comment on the 'Kate Pics Story'. I am no subject expert, nor am I related to the couple, so I don't speak with any specific authority, but from a personal, and keenly felt, perspective what saddens me is this:

William's mother, Princess Diana, died in a Paris road tunnel fifteen years ago, pursued by paparazzi. We know their behaviour had over the years become a source of pain and anguish to her, and we can assume that their unrelenting, aggressive conduct contributed to, if not indeed caused, the accident that killed her. It was clear then that these photographers and those parts of the press that publish their pictures, had lost any sense of respect for, or empathy with, other human beings, whom they had started to treat as mere fodder to feed a self-generated, voracious appetite. There is such a thing as public interest, there is such a thing as freedom of speech, and what they were doing had nothing to do with either of these. It was pure exploitation for the sake of profit. It was the embodiment of a mentality that, as Oscar Wilde put it so many years ago, 'knows the price of everything and the value of nothing'.

What advances us as a species is our ability to learn, and many of us had hoped that it would not just be legislation but also the experience of their culpability and some sense of personal responsibility that would entice editors and photographers to exercise restraint when dealing with Diana's offspring, and with people who are in the public eye generally, and allow them their privacy where it is clearly sought. Which is why these pictures are appalling. What the Duchess is or isn't wearing is, quite literally, immaterial. She was on a private estate, in her own time, with her husband. Like any of us, she has every right to have that sphere preserved. Whether a great effort was required to take these pictures or not is also irrelevant. They are a deliberate intrusion and, therefore, an act of violation.

Laurence Pieau, the Editor of Closer Magazine France, claims that these pictures “are full of joy" and that they are "not degrading". And this may well be so. But it isn't for her, or for any 'Celebrity Magazine' to publish them, it wasn't for the photographer who took them to take them and it isn't for us to see them. This is a joy that belongs to the newlyweds, whoever they happen to be, unless and until they themselves decide to share it. And it is this arrogance and sense of entitlement that Ms Pieau expresses and that still pervades her sector of the media that I abhor. Which is why to my mind, if she possesses any shred of dignity at all, she will apologise to the couple and authorise a substantial donation to charity on their behalf.





sebastian's website   sebastian on facebook 

Sunday 29 July 2012

open letter to NBC




Dear American Friends at NBC

We know it is hard for you to consider that there is a world outside the USA, and harder still to believe that it matters. But every once in a while, give it a try. The opening of an Olympic Games, for example, would be a perfect opportunity for you to just ever so slightly widen your horizon.

Because imagine it had happened the other way round: 


New York wins the bid to host the Olympic Games. The New York Organising Committee (probably spelling itself with a 'z'; we forgive you for that) appoints a director who may not be to everyone's taste but who is highly respected in your country and has many admirers across the world, say Stephen Spielberg, to direct the Opening Ceremony. He does so and includes in the ceremony a segment to honour the victims of 9/11. 


And now the BBC (that's our British Broadcasting Corporation, in case you wonder) decides: 'Actually, that slow moment there, where nothing really happens except somebody's singing a hymn and there are some dancers doing their thing, and pictures of some dead people are shown, that's just some boring stuff about a bunch of murdered Americans and not really relevant to our British audience, we'll cut to an interview with Rebecca Adlington instead'. 


The more sensitive among you might find this a touch upsetting. But rather than apologise, imagine now the BBC turning around, saying: 'You know what, it's a credit to this "producer" [by which they mean the director] that we only had to cut such a small bit. Well done, Mr Spielberg, you nearly managed to give us exactly what we think makes a for good Opening Ceremony.' 


Now do you see how preposterous that is? And how wrong? Because of course 9/11 affects people all over the world. Just as 7/7 does. It's only the order of magnitude that's different. And that isn't even the point. The point is that anyone, anywhere can relate to a moment of reflection for fellow human beings who cannot be with us when we celebrate. And it is not for you to decide what's relevant to this ceremony, or the people watching it, and what isn't. That's not good programming, that's just arrogance.  


So please do the decent thing and apologise. To Danny Boyle, to the artists and performers, to London, to everyone who has lost friends, family, loved ones anywhere in the world who was being remembered and honoured in the 'dull bit' that you felt would best be replaced by an interview with Michael Phelps, charming man though he may be (I don't know him personally, and I have no cavil with him). 

And please: try not to be so unbelievably patronising. As you can tell from reading this letter, it's deeply annoying. And whether you think we matter or not, we - the 6.7 billion or so people in the world who are not Americans - exist and your attitude on an occasion like this is just breathtakingly offensive to us; and really quite insulting to your 'American audience' too: because not only will you find that many people living in your country are really from somewhere else, you're also implying that all Americans are as ignorant and crass as you are. And we all know for a fact that that's not the case. So even if you can't bring yourself to give us a second thought, at least show your own audience some respect.

In the Olympic Spirit, from London
Sebastian Michael


The cut segment (not best quality - if you know of a better clip, please let me know)



sebastian's website   sebastian on facebook 



Friday 27 July 2012

wear charity t-shirts and ask for rivella


It started with Visa. 


Visa, in their wisdom decided that the best way to impress people and gain their trust was to force them to get one of their cards. No choice. If you want Olympic tickets, you have to use Visa. (If you can get tickets that is, but that's another story...)


Then came McDonald's. McDonald's thought it was fair enough and a good advertisement for their dubious fare to prohibit other food outlets on the Olympic park from selling chips. Chips, people! Staple of British staples. Not allowed. They finally, reluctantly, and no more than partly, relented, and that only because disgruntled staff and volunteers working on the site gave caterers grief for refusing to serve them.

Next Seb Coe, chief honcho of London 2012 told us we couldn't get into an Olympic venue wearing a T-Shirt if it had the logo of Coca-Cola arch rival Pepsi on it. Why anyone would want to wear any piece of clothing that is either Coke or Pepsi branded is beyond me, and people around him have since stepped down a notch and 'clarified' the situation, but the thinking behind what he said stands. (You yourself are allowed a non-sponsor T-Shirt. You and your mates are not, is what it boils down to: it's about ambush marketing. But where do you draw the line?)

And then we have the already legendary 286 strong brand police that's traipsing around London in the summer of 2012, taking down Olympic Rings shaped bagels in cornershop bakeries and making pub landlords wipe out boards that have words like 'gold', 'silver', 'bronze', 'summer' or 'London' and '2012' on it.

All of this in the name of corporate sponsorship. Which covers, wait for it, 2% of the cost of the Games (that's according to Newsnight). Two percent. Not twenty. Not a third of the cost or half of it. Two pence in the pound. 


Why do we stand for this nonsense? Is it, in any way, acceptable?

Of course it isn't.

If any of this happened under a communist regime or in a crackpot dictatorship, we would think these people crazy and demand that somebody put a stop to it.


So why are brands behaving like crackpot dictators? Because they have become too powerful. And like anyone who is too powerful, they are afraid. They are afraid of losing their grip, they are afraid that we might do what we like instead of what they tell us to do, they are afraid that we do what we think is right, what is good for us, our communities, for society as a whole and for the planet. Instead of what's good for them.


If they tell you that with their sponsorship they're really doing you a favour because they are making this impossible thing possible, don't believe a word. They're doing themselves a favour. Any benefit that goes to anybody else is part of a simple cost-yield calculation. Nothing about their involvement with the Olympics is in your interest, everything is in theirs.

In your interest is having a variety of credit and payment cards and payment options from as wide a range of providers as possible (maybe even some ethical ones), so you are never dependent on one, are able to spread your costs, and free to actually take advantage of market forces. It is in their interest that you only use theirs.

In your interest is to go for the best and healthiest chips on site, it is in their interest that you only eat theirs.

In your interest is to bring your own favourite drink or some water, it is in their interest that you only buy theirs.

I'm not, by the way, suggesting sponsorship is inherently bad; I am not principally against it. But there has to be some sort of sanity about it, and some perspective. And also we should be able to expect to have upheld for us the baseline freedom of choice that the market economy purports to provide.

Clearly, there isn't going to be a revolution overnight in which we throw off the shackles of corporate coercion, but that doesn't mean we have to put up with this erosion of our rights in silence.

We can make a statement. So, when you go to the Games, wear a charity T-shirt. Doesn't matter which charity, just one you like. See if they stop you. If they do, go topless. If they don't let you do that, streak. Take pictures, take video, go viral.

Bring as much water to the venue as you dare. You're allowed 100ml. (It's absurd, I know. Never in my life did I think I would ever write the sentence: "You're allowed 100ml", referring to water. But that's corporate reality.) Have a condition. Insist you need your water for your medication. See if they challenge you. Faint if they do. And take an empty water bottle. The Olympic website on its list of prohibited and restricted items specifically allows this and says that venues have water fountains. Test this to the limit.

And wherever you go, ask for Rivella. Rivella is a family-owned business that has been making the most popular Swiss soft drink for decades. The Swiss are neutral and fiercely independent. Take a leaf out of their book and cock a snook at Coke. Nobody will stock it, so say that in that case you'll have a glass of tap water. If they don't serve you, retch, and then faint.

Share the love, be friendly, enjoy the Games, and take them back, these Games: they're yours.


(I have no connection with Rivella and I'm not related to the Barth family who own it. I just love it. But then I am Swiss. And they are an 'official partner' of the Swiss Olympic team. Which is nice of them and a little ironic, in a good way, I hope. You can get it in the UK from Genorel Soft Drinks. I'm not connected with them either and I don't get commission. The shirt in the picture above is from Amnesty International. I support Amnesty International. I also endorse Ben Cohen's Standup Foundation against bullying. You do whatever you know is right.)


sebastian's website   sebastian on facebook 


Thursday 28 June 2012

the benign (one hopes) borg festival

Now. Far be it from me to cast any aspersions, nor would I wish to come across as sceptical or let alone cynical and as everybody who knows me knows I am a great fan of the London Olympics (I only wish I had got some tickets...) and I welcome, nay embrace the idea of a Cultural Olympiad or the London 2012 Festival, as it is now called.

Furthermore, I get the point of making it as 'inclusive' as possible, I can see the rationale of letting it happen all over the country, I understand the organisers' evident desire to appeal to everyone somehow, whilst trying hard to feature some paragons of well-respected excellence, and I applaud the undertaking of making some 10 million or so free tickets and 'opportunities' (by which, presumably, are meant general open admissions) available.

So far so good.

But is it just me, or has this Festival somehow managed to simply absorb, like a big - benign, one hopes, but in its encompassing reach still somewhat troubling - organism, everything it even vaguely comes in touch with. I'm not suggesting for one moment that any of the events listed in the official programmes tried to resist, but if, say, hypothetically, they had, would they even have been able to?

The Festival kicked off with appropriate fanfare in a place I'd never heard of called Bowness-on-Windermere, on Midsummer Night, 21st June, and a big concert with fireworks in Stirling. I imagine these, like many others until it officially closes with the end of the Paralympics on 9th September, were events specifically created for this series and they probably wouldn't have happened if it hadn't been for London 2012.


Less obvious, though, how the BBC Proms 2012 feature here. The Proms have been going for well over a hundred years and it is safe to assume that they would have happened again this year, Olympiad or no Olympiad. But at least they fall just about within the dates of the London 2012 Festival.

Not quite so with Lucian Freud Portraits, on all accounts a tremendous retrospective looking over 70 years of one of Britain's finest artists. This opened at the National Portrait Gallery on 9th February and closed again on 27th May, very nearly a whole month before the London 2012 Festival even started. Einstein on the Beach, the mesmerising Philip Glass masterpiece, directed by Rober Wilson: been and gone at the Barbican, in May. The inspired Globe to Globe season of Shakespeare interpretations from across the world: April and May.

Ongoing, regular, seasonal or year round: Poems on the Underground. The Serpentine Pavilion (this year another triumph, by Ai Weiwei and Herzog & de Meuron). Any number of performances at the Edinburgh International Festival, the National Theatre and the Swan in Stratford-upon-Avon.

Don't get me wrong: these are all wonderful initiatives, installations and events and I have no hesitation in endorsing them, praising them even! I just hope they all got a fair amount of money out of the Olympics because otherwise it would be hard to see why they should be so roundly appropriated by London 2012.

I imagine the idea is to just put everything that's happening culturally across the country this year under the banner of London 2012, to make sure we all appreciate that what we've got here is a good thing. Trouble with that is only that we know what we've got here is a good thing. Both the Olympics and everything that's happening culturally across the country. But while come 2013 the Olympics will be gone, the country will still be here, and so we better make sure there'll be some money then and into future years to keep these good things happening...

The London 2012 Festival website

sebastian's website   sebastian on facebook 

Tuesday 26 June 2012

open letter to the football association england team

Dear England

May I first of all congratulate you on reaching the European Championship Quarter Finals, which I understand and appreciate is generally viewed as a considerable achievement in its own right. At the same time, of course, I offer you my sincere commiserations on the result of this match, which, in the context of past experience, can't have come as a great surprise, but must have irked nonetheless.

I am no great expert on, or follower of, football, but while doing some mundane chores, which commanded only part of my attention, I happened to have the television on in the background and found myself catching some of your game against Italy, and I couldn't help but notice that you appeared to be missing a few tricks here and there:

- First and most fundamental perhaps, I was puzzled by your general attitude to the ball. You seem to be treating it like some near-alien object, almost as if it were lethally, perhaps radioactively, contaminated, to the extent that you must keep it away from you at all cost. This results in a comical prancing around with your arms flailing in the air while attempting to control the ball with your torsos, butting it with your heads and occasionally flicking it with your feet. Why not pick up the ball and run with it? That would be the obvious thing to do. Your hands are your most precise instruments by far and clutching the ball to your body instead of pushing it away from you all the time will give you great control when you are in possession of it. Of course, your game is called 'football', and so you want to be using your feet to their full potential. There is no reason why you shouldn't be able to do so still. In fact, launching the ball across the pitch - as I believe you call it - with a sturdy kick can be most effective. But passing it between members of your own team and preventing members of the opposite team from snatching it is infinitely more accurate and successful if you just chuck it to each other, ideally in the reverse direction of play. You will find your game instantly becomes a lot more interesting and also you will cease getting your legs tangled up in clumsy knots and banging your heads against each other in collisions that are obviously bad for your brains.

- Speaking of collisions: you are vying with your competitors for a ball on a playing field. There are going to be occasions when you bump into each other. Why you should act surprised and hurt when this happens is beyond me. (I realise you are by no means the worst offenders in this farcical practice: your Italian counterparts clearly take the biscuit when it comes to ludicrous theatrics.) I have seen grown men throw themselves to the ground clasping entirely the wrong part of their body with expressions of wild agony on their faces that would have made Laurence Olivier blush (and he was not known for the art of understatement). This is the kind of behaviour one might expect from a five year old girl, although one wouldn't tolerate it. In a professional sportsman it's embarrassing. When a man tackles you and knocks you to the ground in the process you get up and get on with the game. That's what you're paid for. Leave the amateur dramatics to the kids at the school play.

- Adopting a more robust and honest conduct on the field will free up your game considerably: as long as you keep falling over because your opponent breathes on you, they in turn will be able to do the same thing when you as much as look at them. The moment you man up and stop this petulance, you will rob the other side of their excuse and so you can in turn tackle them properly. Immediately, everything flows and the referee can stop flagging up coloured cards every few minutes as if he were a human traffic light with the 'go' signal missing. Unless you have a broken bone or a gashing wound with unstoppable bleeding, you may consider yourself fit to play.

- I noted that you restrict your scoring to the ball entering the goal, in front of which you've positioned a goal-keeper. No wonder your games end nil-nil. Not only are you wasting a fine team member by keeping him glued to the spot, you're also misinterpreting the purpose of the exercise, which is to get the ball across the opponent team's touch line. It doesn't matter where. You may, if you wish, make the game more sophisticated, by awarding, instead of, say, one point only for a successful score, several points, and there is no reason why you shouldn't then use the goal to, for example, allow a player to gain extra points for the team by aiming a shot directly at it from roughly the position on the pitch that corresponds to where the ball crossed the line. (This tends to be more elegant if you open your goal up a bit by extending the vertical posts. You don't really need a net.) Once you cotton on to this principle, you will realise that it livens up proceedings enormously, and very rarely will you end up with an even score, so you will no longer have to go through the agony of losing so called 'penalty' shootouts, which amount to much the same as a lottery; you may as well determine the outcome of your major tournaments by drawing straws or sending rubber ducks down the river.

- On the subject of wasting men: you keep an extraordinary number of people sitting around on the benches. Is that necessary? More to the point, is it wise? My recommendation would be to bring on maybe four more chaps and get them involved right from the start. That way there is less danger of them getting bored or being so stiff by the time they come on, they keep rolling around the grass with cramp, which just looks unattractive. You have the manpower there, why not use it?

I trust you will find these ways of improving your game worth implementing. I should caution you perhaps that they are a touch more demanding than your current method, and so you will genuinely tire sooner. This is nothing to be ashamed of. You are now using your arms as well as your legs and your head is now freed up to do some thinking, all of which can be exhausting. So by all means feel free to reduce your playing time from the current ninety minutes, to maybe eighty: the amount of extra enjoyment both you and your spectators get out of your game more than compensates for its slightly shorter duration.

Oh and you may wish to consider changing your ball. The ball you are currently kicking about is the kind of toy children use in the playground. It's round and so it rolls and flies in all directions without distinction. Once you proceed to the stage of professional football, you should really graduate to something a little more taxing, such as an egg-shape (or, more appropriately, a testicle shape). The skill and precision involved in kicking such a ball is highly advanced, so it will require some practice, but the rewards are compelling: once you've mastered the technique you will be able to measure up against the strongest, fastest, most decidedly dextrous, most manly and magnificent sportsmen in the world and as a result earn the respect of your country whilst commanding awe and admiration across the globe. What you have been playing up until now will seem nothing but an absurdly primitive prototype of a sport that has, with its evolved facets, layers, positions and phases, the potential truly to inspire.

With all good wishes for your future in football

Sebastian




sebastian's website sebastian on facebook