Chess

In keeping with a recent drive, consciously and subconsciously, to vary and augment my range of interests, I have rekindled and revived my interest in the game of chess.

I played quite a bit of chess in my youth, both at school and with family friends.  However, as my teens progressed the game and I drifted apart, as new delights and interests took precedence. Now, I find myself wishing that I had found a way to maintain my participation in the game, as I can see what benefits it can provide, from both an intellectual and a social perspective.

This time around, it is not just the playing of the game which I am appreciating, but also the rich and turbulent history of chess.  The game's current practitioners appear to have some respect and reverence for the game's pioneers and legends, something which is not prevalent in all games and pastimes.

When I first became interested in the game, in the late 1970s, it was the era of Anatoly Karpov and Victor Korchnoi, and I recall the media coverage of the major chess encounters of those times.  I was too young to appreciate and absorb the hysteria and hype surrounding the Bobby Fischer-Boris Spassky match of 1972, and the inevitable Cold War sub-texts.

I can understand why some people sneer at chess, seeing a pretentiousness and over-intellectualization amongst some of its devotees, but equally the game can mean different things to different people, on differing levels.  It doesn't have to involve a profound existential journey, but can merely be an enjoyable and refreshing means of stimulating the grey matter.

Chess is also one of those pastimes which can be played, and excelled at, by people of all ages, cultures and backgrounds.  Often, people aged eight and eighty can play against each other on relatively equal terms, as each can bring different, and complementary, attributes to the table.

When I was young, the playing of chess seemed to be encouraged in schools, but I suspect that times have "moved on", and that this is no longer the case, in Britain at least.  Like many youthful endeavours, it has probably been swamped by the relentless advance of video games and other technological fads. It seems to me, though, that there is a place for chess in our education system.  It can be argued with some truth that it teaches skills and techniques which stand young people in good stead, and accomplishes this task more effectively than some things which are taken for granted as fixtures in "formal" education.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to play chess - against my computer....

Ingmar Bergman

It has taken me a while, but I have finally got around to watching and studying some of the work of Ingmar Bergman. In recent weeks, I have watched three of his most renowned films.

First to receive my attention was "Wild Strawberries" from 1957. This follows an ageing professor on a road journey to a ceremony, where he is to be presented with an award. Despite his professional and academic accomplishments, the professor appears to have alienated many people, and to have become estranged from relatives and the world at large.

As the road trip progresses, the professor encounters people and places which cause him to re-evaluate things, coming to terms with his past, and finding some peace with the present. His faith in human nature is partially restored.

With understated but well-judged acting performances, this is ultimately an uplifting movie.

Next on my list was "Hour Of The Wolf", released in 1968, and starring Max von Sydow and Liv Ullman as a couple living on a remote and windswept island.

The couple are overtaken by a series of bizarre events and personal encounters.

This is more the type of movie which the public at large would associate with Bergman, and it is indeed quite bleak, this quality being accentuated by the location. This is probably not a film to be watched with the lights off!

Most recently I watched "The Seventh Seal", one of Bergman's landmark releases, again from 1957.

A rumination on death and faith, the work stars Max von Sydow as a knight returning from the Crusades, to be confronted by a country ravaged by the plague.

The film opens with the legendary scene on a beach, featuring the game of chess between Death and the von Sydow character.

As the knight and his companions travel inland, they are confronted by various manifestations of the plague, and against this backdrop Bergman examines the contradictions surrounding death and faith, and the varying ways in which humans address them.

"The Seventh Seal" is one of those films which one probably needs to view several times over, in order to fully absorb the multi-layered messages. On my first viewing, I found myself turning over in my mind various interpretations of each scene or piece of dialogue. I kept asking myself - does my interpretation actually correspond with what the director was really seeking to convey?

The film alternates between the sinister and the optimistic, with the latter providing some relief following the grim but compelling former.

"The Seventh Seal" is by no means an easy film to watch, but it is thought-provoking and in many respects inspiring.