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Posts tagged as “Marion Prudhon”

Blue in Green: Public competes with plants to hear duo revive ‘old women’s’ music at Mary-Ann’s Polarriggmaryanns2

Blue in Green: Public competes with plants to hear duo revive ‘old women’s’ music at Mary-Ann’s Polarrigg

By Mark Sabbatini on October 27, 2017
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(Dark Season Blues festival blog by Staff Writer Marion Prudhon, 4 p.m. Saturday): No stage here, just two chairs and a display of old vinyl from blues legend Jessie Mae Hemphill serving an artel altar for Bessie Smith and Ma Rainey’s source of inspiration.

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Mark Sabbatini

I'm a professional transient living on a tiny Norwegian island next door to the North Pole, where once a week (or thereabouts) I pollute our extreme and pristine environment with paper fishwrappers decorated with seemingly random letters that would cause a thousand monkeys with a thousand typewriters to die of humiliation. Such is the wisdom one acquires after more than 25 years in the world's second-least-respected occupation, much of it roaming the seven continents in search of jazz, unrecognizable street food and escorts I f****d with by insisting they give me the platonic tours of their cities promised in their ads. But it turns out this tiny group of islands known as Svalbard is my True Love and, generous contributions from you willing, I'll keep littering until they dig my body out when my climate-change-deformed apartment collapses or they exile my penniless ass because I'm not even worthy of washing your dirty dishes.
marksabbatini@yahoo.com
http://icepeople.net
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Far adrift, yet solidly anchored: Billy T and other longtime Dark Season Blues colleagues liven up lunch at Svalbarblues1lunchblog

Far adrift, yet solidly anchored: Billy T and other longtime Dark Season Blues colleagues liven up lunch at Svalbar

By Mark Sabbatini on October 27, 2017
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Read Time:1 Minute, 24 Second

(Festival blog by Staff Writer Marion Prudhon, 1:30 p.m. Friday): “People say we have drifted far from the blues,” said William T. Troiani – alias Billy T – who’s been performing at Dark Season Blues for 13 of the festival’s 15 years, during the latest of his many free “Blues Lunch” concerts at Svalbar at midday Friday.

About Post Author

Mark Sabbatini

I'm a professional transient living on a tiny Norwegian island next door to the North Pole, where once a week (or thereabouts) I pollute our extreme and pristine environment with paper fishwrappers decorated with seemingly random letters that would cause a thousand monkeys with a thousand typewriters to die of humiliation. Such is the wisdom one acquires after more than 25 years in the world's second-least-respected occupation, much of it roaming the seven continents in search of jazz, unrecognizable street food and escorts I f****d with by insisting they give me the platonic tours of their cities promised in their ads. But it turns out this tiny group of islands known as Svalbard is my True Love and, generous contributions from you willing, I'll keep littering until they dig my body out when my climate-change-deformed apartment collapses or they exile my penniless ass because I'm not even worthy of washing your dirty dishes.
marksabbatini@yahoo.com
http://icepeople.net
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Dawn at sunset: First night of 15th Dark Season Blues lights things up as sun bids Svalbard goodbye for four monthsbluesopen1

Dawn at sunset: First night of 15th Dark Season Blues lights things up as sun bids Svalbard goodbye for four months

By Mark Sabbatini on October 27, 2017
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Read Time:2 Minute, 43 Second

(Festival blog by Staff Writer Marion Prudhon, 1:40 a.m. Friday): The sun disappeared from Longyearbyen just a few hours before Sugaray Rayford took the stage for the first of two times Thursday night. But he wasn’t about to let the audience sit quietly in the dark.

“I know Norwegians dance, I’ve seen them,” he said, imploring the crowd to get out of their seats while performing a trio of songs during the official opening of the festival at Kulturhuset.

About Post Author

Mark Sabbatini

I'm a professional transient living on a tiny Norwegian island next door to the North Pole, where once a week (or thereabouts) I pollute our extreme and pristine environment with paper fishwrappers decorated with seemingly random letters that would cause a thousand monkeys with a thousand typewriters to die of humiliation. Such is the wisdom one acquires after more than 25 years in the world's second-least-respected occupation, much of it roaming the seven continents in search of jazz, unrecognizable street food and escorts I f****d with by insisting they give me the platonic tours of their cities promised in their ads. But it turns out this tiny group of islands known as Svalbard is my True Love and, generous contributions from you willing, I'll keep littering until they dig my body out when my climate-change-deformed apartment collapses or they exile my penniless ass because I'm not even worthy of washing your dirty dishes.
marksabbatini@yahoo.com
http://icepeople.net
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Motherland lode: Barentsburg salutes its workers with food, music and frivolity during annual Miners’ Day partybarentsburgjumprope

Motherland lode: Barentsburg salutes its workers with food, music and frivolity during annual Miners’ Day party

By Mark Sabbatini on September 8, 2016
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Read Time:2 Minute, 30 Second

On a day saluting the work of the miners, all work stopped except for tourism activity – and those poor folks couldn’t find more than 15 minutes to join the party and eat something.

Meanwhile, everyone else partied from morning until late afternoon during the annual Miners’ Day celebration last Saturday in Barentsburg.

About Post Author

Mark Sabbatini

I'm a professional transient living on a tiny Norwegian island next door to the North Pole, where once a week (or thereabouts) I pollute our extreme and pristine environment with paper fishwrappers decorated with seemingly random letters that would cause a thousand monkeys with a thousand typewriters to die of humiliation. Such is the wisdom one acquires after more than 25 years in the world's second-least-respected occupation, much of it roaming the seven continents in search of jazz, unrecognizable street food and escorts I f****d with by insisting they give me the platonic tours of their cities promised in their ads. But it turns out this tiny group of islands known as Svalbard is my True Love and, generous contributions from you willing, I'll keep littering until they dig my body out when my climate-change-deformed apartment collapses or they exile my penniless ass because I'm not even worthy of washing your dirty dishes.
marksabbatini@yahoo.com
http://icepeople.net
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Russian Revelution: Strange invasion from the motherland prompts foreigner to crash 85th birthday party in Barentsburg

Russian Revelution: Strange invasion from the motherland prompts foreigner to crash 85th birthday party in Barentsburg

By Mark Sabbatini on August 10, 2016
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Read Time:6 Minute, 37 Second

Russians are flooding into Longyearbyen in force under very strange circumstances indeed.

The bus with the “Barentsburg” decal keeps going back and forth through town all day. The helicopter belonging to the state-owned company Trust Arktikugol is making multiple flights. A ship with passengers atypical of the cruisers typically arriving this time of year. An “interesting passenger” arriving at the airport.

About Post Author

Mark Sabbatini

I'm a professional transient living on a tiny Norwegian island next door to the North Pole, where once a week (or thereabouts) I pollute our extreme and pristine environment with paper fishwrappers decorated with seemingly random letters that would cause a thousand monkeys with a thousand typewriters to die of humiliation. Such is the wisdom one acquires after more than 25 years in the world's second-least-respected occupation, much of it roaming the seven continents in search of jazz, unrecognizable street food and escorts I f****d with by insisting they give me the platonic tours of their cities promised in their ads. But it turns out this tiny group of islands known as Svalbard is my True Love and, generous contributions from you willing, I'll keep littering until they dig my body out when my climate-change-deformed apartment collapses or they exile my penniless ass because I'm not even worthy of washing your dirty dishes.
marksabbatini@yahoo.com
http://icepeople.net
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Rant: Homeless – a very true story about ‘that woman holding all her belongings in a plastic bag’homelesswoman

Rant: Homeless – a very true story about ‘that woman holding all her belongings in a plastic bag’

By Mark Sabbatini on August 8, 2016
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Read Time:1 Minute, 33 Second

Most locals have probably seen the cover of the most recent Svalbardposten and know people (or were among them) joking about “that woman holding all her belongings in a plastic bag.” I will tell you her true story.

About Post Author

Mark Sabbatini

I'm a professional transient living on a tiny Norwegian island next door to the North Pole, where once a week (or thereabouts) I pollute our extreme and pristine environment with paper fishwrappers decorated with seemingly random letters that would cause a thousand monkeys with a thousand typewriters to die of humiliation. Such is the wisdom one acquires after more than 25 years in the world's second-least-respected occupation, much of it roaming the seven continents in search of jazz, unrecognizable street food and escorts I f****d with by insisting they give me the platonic tours of their cities promised in their ads. But it turns out this tiny group of islands known as Svalbard is my True Love and, generous contributions from you willing, I'll keep littering until they dig my body out when my climate-change-deformed apartment collapses or they exile my penniless ass because I'm not even worthy of washing your dirty dishes.
marksabbatini@yahoo.com
http://icepeople.net
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