Transcript test 2
TRANSCRIPT
Section 1
Last week we looked at the traditional art of Japan. In this week’s lecture we’re
going to move south and look at the very special way in which art has developed in the
beautiful island of Bali, which is now part of Indonesia. I’ll begin by giving you a brief
historical overview.
It’s thought that the first inhabitants of Bali were farmers who arrived around 3000
BC … at the beginning of the Iron Age. They probably originally came from China, and
in Bali they cultivated rice and built temples ornamented with wood and stone carvings
and statues. The Hindu religion was introduced in the 14 th century AD, and this has
remained the main religion on the island. This was an important period in the artistic
development of the island, when sculptors, poets, priests and painters worked together in
the service of the ruling families. Rather than painting everyday scenes, artists
concentrated on narrative paintings illustrating the epic stories of Hinduism. Bali’s rich
natural resources have always made it an alluring goal for merchants, and from the 17 th
century onwards, Dutch ships visited the island to trade in spices and luxury goods.
Gradually the old royal families lost their power, and eventually in 1906 the Dutch East
Indies Company was founded and the island became a colony. In the 20 th century, art then
took on a very different role: as a tool accessible to everyone in the fight of the Balinese
people against colonisation rather than as the property of a minority. Shortly after this, in
the 1920s, stories of the beauty of the island of Bali began to spread around the world,
and Balinese art underwent another vast transformation with advent of tourism to the
island. At first, this was only on a small scale, but it had important effects. Expatriate
artists from Holland and Germany settled on the island bringing paper, Chinese ink and
other new materials with them. They worked with local artists, encouraging them to
experiment with concepts like naturalism, expressionism, light and perspective, as well as
to move away from the tradition focus on narrative painting towards something closer to
their own experience. When independence came in 1945, this desire for an art to match a
new national identity became stronger and the traditional narrative paintings started to
give way to scenes showing the everyday life of the Balinese people –harvests, market
scenes and daily tasks – as well as the myths and legends of their history.
Section 2
(CAE practice tests)
Interviewer: OK, in our weekly spot about how to write a novel, I’m talking to novelist
Louise Doughty. Louise, this week we’re talking about getting comments and feedback
on your work from other people. ‘If there is anything in your own work you think
particularly fine,’ said Ernest Hemingway, ‘strike it out.’ Is that good advice?
Writer: Well, few would-be novelists aspire to be as plain and brutal as Hemingway, I
suspect, but his dictum is still worth tucking into a corner of your brain – not to be
followed slavishly, but as an antidote to that great curse of the inexperienced novelist:
over-writing.
Interviewer: How do you know if you are over-writing?
Writer: Well, an excess of adverbs and adjectives is a clue. Repetition under the guise of
emphasis is another, and extended metaphors should be rationed tightly.
Interviewer: Now, there comes a point in the writing of every novel when you just don’t
know any more. You’ve been immersed in it for weeks, possibly years. You’ve lost sight
of the original impetus behind the book and are plagued with self-doubt – yet at the same
time you know there is something there and are not ready to give up on it.
Writer: Yes, and this is the point at which you should be getting feedback.
Interviewer: From whom?
Writer: As a rule, I’d advise against getting it from your nearest and dearest. You will be
wounded by their criticism and suspicious of their praise. Instead, join a writing
community of some sort. You need comments from another writer. Those who have been
logging onto my website will know that such a community has formed there. Creative
writing courses and book groups are also good places to find like-minded souls. Through
such contacts you can find someone who understands what you are trying to do – which
is not the same as someone who is uncritical of the way you do it. There is a time and a
place for emotional support, but that is not what we are talking about here.
Interviewer: What kind of comments are useful in your view?
Writer: Well, you need someone who is prepared to say, ‘I really like the opening
paragraph but I thought it went a bit wrong after that because…’ and, crucially, is
prepared to be specific. ‘I just didn’t like him’ is not a helpful comment on a character. ‘I
lost sympathy with him in the scene where he tells his brother the truth because I thought
he was too brutal. Maybe you should re-write it making his motivation clearer and his
language softer.’ That is useful advice: you can choose whether to take it or discard it.
Similarly, at the level of prose style, some well-meaning person might say ‘It’s a bit
boring’, but a helpful critic would say ‘You have three paragraphs of description here
before you tell us who is talking; maybe you should consider starting the conversation
first and weaving all the description in, instead of having it all in one chunk.’
Interviewer: How do you personally get feedback on your work?
Writer: The most fruitful relationships I have with other writers are with the novelists
with whom I swap work – usually the person whose novel is under discussion pays for
dinner. If you can find other novelists who are working at a similar level to yourself,
with similar interests, and who are frank and unafraid of frankness from you, then keep
them close at hand.
Interviewer: Now what about reactions to feedback? We’ve talked about getting it, but
what about when you’ve got it?
Writer: Well, even with a trusted ally, there comes a point when you have to stick to
your guns and say, ‘This person whom I really respect doesn’t like this bit but I do and
it’s staying in.’ And of course, feedback can be annoying. For a start, a lot of the criticism
you receive will be stuff which you knew already in your heart of hearts – you were just
hoping nobody else would notice. And sometimes, you will bristle at a certain comment
on your work, not because it is untrue but because the consequences of righting that
particular defect are too daunting to contemplate at that particular time – accurate
criticism is the most painful of all. On other occasions, you will have a gut feeling that
the person reading your work just doesn’t ‘get’ it, or wants you to write a different novel
entirely. Frequently, the only way to work out if criticism is useful is to nod sagely, then
file it in a drawer. When the wounds have healed over and your ego is not under
immediate threat, then you will be able to assess its true worth.
Section 3
Hello everyone. First of all, a big welcome to New York from all of us here at the
hotel. My name's Bob and I'm here to make sure you enjoy your stay in the city. I've
organized some great guided tours for you and we start tomorrow with a trip to the
Museum of Immigration., on Ellis Island. Now I'm going to give you a few background
details that will help you get the most out of your visit.
As you know, millions of people came to the USA from Europe in the late 19th
and early 20th centuries, especially during the period between 1897 and 1924 - that's the
year when immigration controls were introduced - and Ellis Island was the place where
they first landed. The buildings which immigrants had to pass through before they were
allowed to come and live in the USA were used right up till 1954. Then they stood empty
until they were restored as a museum, which opened in September 1990. And that's where
we'll be going tomorrow.
Your tour of the museum begins when you step off the ferry, at the very point
where the immigrants stepped off the ships that had brought the on their long journey all
the way from Europe.
The first place they passed through is called the Baggage Room - that's where they
picked up their bags and other possessions - and you'll be able to see a display of typical
baggage from the period there as you pass through.
You then go into what's called the Registry Room - just as the immigrants did.
This is where they had medical check-ups and interviews and then, if all went well, they
were allowed to enter the USA. Imagine how it must have felt to be so close to your new
home but still not be sure if you'd be accepted or put on the next ship home again.
But most people were accepted, and it's incredible but 100 million Americans can
trace their family history in the USA to a man, woman or child who passed through this
room. And, 420,000 of them have their names written on what is known as the Wall of
Honor, which you can see at the museum.
If things were real busy or if there was a problem, the newcomers might have to
spend a few days on the island, and the next place you see on the guided tour is the
sleeping area, known as the Bunk Room, and then after that what's called the Hearing
room - that's where people who'd been refused entry could have their case heard by a
judge.
The museum also has three theatres. Theatre 1 is a movie theatre and I've reserved
tickets for you to see the 30-minute movie called Hope and Fears. In the movie, you'll see
immigrants telling their own stories of how they pulled up their roots in Europe and came
to live in the USA. Next door, in Theatre 2 there'll be the chance to see the play called
Ellis Island Stories, which also lasts for 30 minutes. This play feature 2 immigrants and 1
immigration officer which based on real-life interviews recorded on Ellis Island. We
haven't made reservation but it begins at 11.10 a.m. and there'll be plenty of time to see it
if you'd like to.
Or you might want to visit the Oral History Library. The Ellis Island Oral History
Project has collected recordings of first-hand accounts of people's experiences at Ellis
Island and you can listen to some of these on a computer system with 20 individual
listening stations.
And if there's still time after that, why not visit the exhibition called The Peopling
of America, which is located in the old ticket office, which was across the water from the
old railroad station. This exhibition places Ellis Island in the context of 400 years of
North American immigration history.
So, all in all, it looks like being a great tour ...
Section 4
Over the roughly one-and-a-half millennia of its existence, chess has been known
as a tool of military strategy, a (1) metaphor for human affairs, and a benchmark of
genius.
While our earliest records of chess are in the 7th century, legend tells that the game’s
origins lie a century earlier. Supposedly, when the youngest prince of the Gupta Empire
was killed in battle, his brother devised a way of representing the scene to their grieving
mother. Set on the 8x8 ashtapada board used for other popular pastimes, a new game
emerged with two key features: different rules for moving different types of pieces, and a
single king piece whose fate determined the outcome.
The game was originally known as chaturanga–a Sanskrit word for "four
divisions." But with its spread to Sassanid Persia, it acquired its current name and
terminology– "chess," derived from "shah," meaning king, and “checkmate” from "shah
mat," or “the king is helpless.”
After the 7th century Islamic (2) conquest of Persia, chess was introduced to the Arab
world. Transcending its role as a tactical simulation, it eventually became a rich source of
(3) poetic imagery. (4) Diplomats and courtiers used chess terms to describe political
power. Ruling caliphs became avid players themselves. And historian al-Mas’udi
considered the game a testament to human free will compared to games of chance.
Medieval trade along the Silk Road carried the game to East and Southeast Asia,
where many (5) local variants developed. In China, chess pieces were placed at
intersections of board squares rather than inside them, as in the native strategy game Go.
The reign of Mongol leader Tamerlane saw an 11x10 board with safe squares called
citadels. And in Japanese shogi, captured pieces could be used by the opposing player.
But it was in Europe that chess began to take on its modern form.
By 1000 AD, the game had become part of courtly education. Chess was used as
(6) an allegory for different social classes performing their proper roles, and the pieces
were re-interpreted in their new context. At the same time, the Church remained
suspicious of games. Moralists cautioned against devoting too much time to them, with
chess even being briefly banned in France.
Yet the game proliferated, and the 15th century saw it (7) cohering into the form we
know today. The relatively weak piece of advisor was recast as the more powerful
queen–perhaps inspired by the recent surge of strong female leaders. This change
accelerated the game’s pace, and as other rules were popularized, (8) treatises analyzing
common openings and endgames appeared. Chess theory was born.
With the Enlightenment era, the game moved from royal courts to coffeehouses.
Chess was now seen as an expression of creativity, encouraging bold moves and dramatic
plays. This "Romantic" style reached its peak in the Immortal Game of 1851, where
Adolf Anderssen managed a checkmate after sacrificing his queen and both rooks. But
the emergence of formal competitive play in the late 19th century meant that strategic
calculation would eventually trump (9) dramatic flair.
And with the rise of international competition, chess took on a new (10)
geopolitical importance. During the Cold War, the Soviet Union devoted great resources
to cultivating chess talent, dominating the championships for the rest of the century.
THE END