9.12.2008
Luis Bunuel Un chien andalou
Luis Buñuel Portolés (February 22, 1900 – July 29, 1983) was a Spanish-born filmmaker and naturalized Mexican who worked mainly in Mexico and France, but also in his native Spain and in the United States. He is considered one of Mexico's finest directors, and one of the most important directors in the history of cinema.
Un chien andalou (English: An Andalusian Dog) is a 1928 short surrealist film made in France by the Spanish director Luis Buñuel and the Spanish artist Salvador Dalí. It was released in 1929 in Paris for a limited showing, but became popular and ran for eight months.[1] It is one of the best-known surrealist films of the avant-garde movement of the 1920s.
The film has no narrative, in the conventional sense of the word. There are two central characters, an unnamed man and woman, who seem to be having an affair. The film could be seen as a symbolic study of the emotions and societal pressures that cause their separation and the ending of their affair, and the fateful consequences of their discovery by the man's "father" and the woman's "husband".
The chronology of the film is disjointed, jumping from the initial "once upon a time" to "eight years later" without the events or characters changing that much. It uses dream logic that can be described in terms of then-popular Freudian free association, presenting a series of tenuously related scenes that attempt to shock the viewer's inner psyche.
Source: Wikipedia
9.09.2008
Dali and Film on Moma
Dalí: Painting and Film
June 29–September 15, 2008
The Joan and Preston Robert Tisch Exhibition Gallery, sixth floor,
Modern Museum of Art, 53rd street between 5th and 6th avenue
8.31.2008
Music: Midnight Resistance - Remote
Midnight Resistance official website
"Remote" on amazon.com
8.24.2008
one art
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
-Elizabeth Bishop
8.23.2008
Candles and Diamonds
from writings of Rav Ashlag
Long ago, there was a poor candle maker named Jacob. He heard of a mysterious island where diamonds were as common as ordinary pebbles. So Jacob left his home and set out for the nearest seaport. There he learned the the island of diamonds really did exists, but he would have to hurry. A boat sailed to the island only once every seven years, and it was leaving immediately! So Jacob rushed aboard.
When he arrived on the island, he found that what he'd heard was all true! Diamonds were everywhere, like sand on the seashore. Falling to his knees, Jacob began filling his bags with the glittering gems, dreaming of how rich he was going to be back home.
Just then, however, one of the inhabitants of the island approached him. "You're wasting your time filling your bags with those worthless pebbles, " said the newcomer. "Since you're going to be here for seven years, you'd better have a way to support yourself. Do you have a trade?"
"Why, I'm a candlemaker, " said Jacob.
"Very well. Then you'd better start making candles."
That is exactly what Jacob did, and very soon he had a thriving business. In fact, since there were no other candlemakers to compete with, he became the most important man on the island. Almost before Jacob knew it, seven years had passed - and one day the boat arrived.
So Jacob hurriedly packed up all his possessions and jumped on board. When he returned home his family eagerly looked at his suitcases and then stared at Jacob in amazement. "Where is all the treasure?" asked his wife and children. "You were gone for seven years, and all you've brought back is a bunch of candles!"
Jacob just laughed. Didn't they understand? Candles had made him an important man on the island! But as he opened his mouth to speak, the truth suddenly dawned on him. He had forgotten the purpose for which he's gone to the island - and now he had nothing more valuable than when he left.
8.21.2008
Over the hill
Intervention. Divine. Film. Music. Intraconnection. Truffaut. Moreau. Monika. The hill. Over the hill. Franz. An ape's way out. The academy. A report to it. Movies as novels. Novels as songs. Harmonic-black&white-chapters.
Why? Tell me, why?
You don't call me anymore
Don't you want me anymore?
All she ever wanted was a way out. She never wanted freedom.
Jim: Either it's raining, or I'm dreaming.
Catherine: Maybe it's both.
Black, It's all black
It's the colour of my heart
It's the colour of my eyes
She never meant this great feeling of freedom on all sides. She never demanded freedom.
Jim: l always thought she was like Napoleon, she claims the world is rich and one can sometimes cheat a bit, but she first asks God for forgiveness sure that she'll get it
But I'm here, Yes I'm here
Everybody seems to mean so much
Everybody seems to think I'm fine
People all too often are deceived by freedom. And since freedom is reckoned among the most sublime feelings, the corresponding disappointment is also among the most sublime.
Catherine's plunge into the river so astonished Jim that he drew it the next day, though he didn't usually draw. Admiration for Catherine welled up in him and he sent her a kiss in his mind.
Late, It's too late
I am punishing myself
By admitting it's too late
Laugh, You may laugh
You can laugh at me for days
You may spit me if you want
No, she didn’t want freedom. Only a way out—to the right or left or anywhere at all. She made no other demands, even if the way out should be only an illusion.
Catherine: You said, "I love you," I said, "Wait." I was going to say, "Take me," you said, "Go away."
'Cause I'm here, I'm still here
Everybody seems to mean so much
Everybody seems to think I'm fine
The demand was small; the disappointment would not be any greater—to move on further, to move on further!
Jim: We played with life and lost.
Look at me, There were more to see
There were more to be proud of...
Only not to stand still with arms raised, pressed again a crate wall.
Catherine: Watch us well, Jules!
Song: Over the Hill by Monika
Video: Jules et Jim (1962) by Francois Truffaut
Text: A report to the Academy by Franz Kafka