Awe

Oscars 2012: a somewhat different view

 

The Academy Awards occasionally include great films and artists in their ranks, but more often than not they come across as the emblem of an industry which understands film as a commodity, rather than an art form. Not that any of this is of interest to the mainstream media, which in this time of the year are packed with articles on the upcoming ceremony. Such publications may be rich in numbers, but they are often poor in terms of diversity; so why don’t we try to make room for something a little bit different for a change?  

TIME LightBox, for instance, has produced a rather unusual set of interviews with actors and actresses; some of them are Oscar nominees and some are not. Τheir interviews are beautifully shot in black and white from different angles, and include occasional close ups of their hands and faces. Content-wise the material is rich and dense, and the end result is a sense of intimacy, very much unlike the conventional interviews actors are often called to do in the context of the promotion of their films. I was particularly impressed by Viola Davis’ articulate exploration of the reason why the image of the maid has been seen as demeaning by the African American community, and the concomitant difficulties involved in playing such a role.

Although the lion’s share of attention goes to films nominated for the most popular awards, rare gems may be discovered in lesser-known categories just as well. The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore, which is nominated for the best animated short award, is a characteristic example. The film is directed by William Joyce and Brandon Oldenburg, and tells the story of Mr. Lessmore, a Buster Keaton-like figure who is taken by a storm resembling Hurricane Katrina to a land where books are alive. Bookworms and animation aficionados of the world unite? Most probably, yes. But above all, The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore is great cinema: highly imaginative, visually stunning, and emotionally sincere. 

Is it prohibited to dream?

Sina St., Athens, 25.10.2006

We can be Heroes just for one day: A Reality Tour by David Bowie

dvd.nl

Although David Bowie’s live album A Reality Tour was released two years ago, I must admit I still can’t get enough of it. It is interesting to note that it was preceded by an official dvd in 2004, as well as by bootleg recordings of concerts from the same 2003-2004 tour. And the obvious question is, what is it that makes this tour so special?  

On the one hand, A Reality Tour was an exception to the rule. As Anthony Kuzminski pointed out in antimusic, it is difficult for musicians to offer a widescreen view of their life’s work in the same way that painters and sculptors are able to do through retrospective exhibitions. However, A Reality Tour put forward the most impressive, representative, and occasionally unpredictable, selection of tracks from a body of work spanning over six decades. 

But there is an even more important reason: David Bowie has always been an exceptional live musician, and it is right there, on stage and in front of the fans, that his music displays its originality and creativity to the fullest. A Reality Tour is not just an aesthetically and conceptually fine album; David Bowie, 56 years old at the time of recording, displays the rare qualities of his ingenuity and experience, combined with the sheer passion and strength of his live performance.

The final dates of the tour were cancelled due to health issues; David Bowie has subsequently made guest appearances, but it remains unclear if and when there will be a new album and tour – still, has he ever seized to surprise us? Until then, “Heroes”: one of the best tracks of all time, in the finest live version I have ever heard. Ben Schumer had actually written in PopMatters that “Bowie belts out ‘I, I will be king / And you, you will be queen’ like his next breathe of life depends on it”. 

My thought exactly – this is the perfect time to turn the volume up:

I, I will be king

 

And you, you will be queen

Though nothing will drive them away

We can be Heroes just for one day

We can be us just for one day

Still I Rise, by Maya Angelou

archives-lepost.huffingtonpost.fr

Still I Rise is one of the best known poems by Maya Angelou; it was the title poem of a collection of hers published in 1978. This is a modern classic celebrating courage, endurance, and hope. In other words, something to treasure, especially in times of despair; because at the end of the day, kindness and a backbone is all that matters. 

 

                                              You may write me down in history
                                              With your bitter, twisted lies,
                                              You may trod me in the very dirt
                                              But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

                                              Does my sassiness upset you?
                                              Why are you beset with gloom?
                                              ’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
                                              Pumping in my living room.

                                              Just like moons and like suns,
                                              With the certainty of tides,
                                              Just like hopes springing high,
                                              Still I’ll rise.

                                              Did you want to see me broken?
                                              Bowed head and lowered eyes?
                                              Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
                                              Weakened by my soulful cries?

                                              Does my haughtiness offend you?
                                              Don't you take it awful hard
                                              ’Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
                                              Diggin’ in my own backyard.

                                              You may shoot me with your words,
                                              You may cut me with your eyes,
                                              You may kill me with your hatefulness,
                                              But still, like air, I’ll rise.

                                              Does my sexiness upset you?
                                              Does it come as a surprise
                                              That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
                                              At the meeting of my thighs?

                                              Out of the huts of history’s shame
                                              I rise
                                              Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
                                              I rise
                                              I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
                                              Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

                                              Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
                                              I rise
                                              Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
                                              I rise
                                              Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
                                              I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
                                              I rise
                                              I rise
                                              I rise.

Never let you go, by Alejandro Kirchuk

 alejandrokirchuk.com.ar

Alejandro Kirchuk is an award-winning Argentinean photographer whose work has been published in various print media, and exhibited in Argentina, the United Kingdom, and the United States. His project Never Let You Go won the first prize in the daily life stories category in the 2012 World Press Photo Contest. It is the story of his grandparents Monica and Marcos, who were married for 65 years. In 2007 Monica was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, and Marcos devoted himself to her care. Alejandro Kirchuk’s pictures elegantly trace the ways in which the disease changed their lives. As Monica’s illness progressed, she became more dependent on her husband, whose life was also substantially affected by her condition; at the same time however, supporting his wife gave Marcos a new reason to live, and allowed him to show aspects of his personality which had never been displayed before.  

According to Alejandro Kirchuk, the aim of this project is to raise awareness about how to deal with Alzheimer’s disease, to show how the illness changes the life of the people who live close to the patient, and to encourage them to go through the situation. Monica passed away in 2011 in her apartment in Buenos Aires, next to her husband who now had to overcome his sorrow and loneliness. The project’s title in Spanish, La noche que me quieras (The night I want), is the name of the tango Monica sang before losing her memory.

At the same time, it seems to me that this project is also about love at its best. You will not see candlelight here, neither the moon, nor a bottle of the finest wine; this is the real thing. And the real thing is this amount of courage, this degree of devotion, and this level of grace.

alejandrokirchuk.com.ar

To the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach

web-books.com

An earlier post on Virginia Woolf included a reference to Elizabeth Barrett Browning; ever since I’ve been meaning to post this poem, numbered 43 in her Sonnets from the Portuguese. It is among her best-known works, but it is also the first thing that comes to mind whenever I hear people talk about love, but actually mean habit, convenience, vanity, possessiveness, power, or whatever else but love. After all it may not be such a bad idea to set the record straight every now and again.

                                         How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

                                         I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

                                         My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

                                         For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

                                         I love thee to the level of everyday’s

                                         Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.

                                         I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

                                         I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

                                         I love thee with the passion put to use

                                         In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.

                                         I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

                                         With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath,

                                         Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,

                                         I shall but love thee better after death.

The Descendants, by Alexander Payne

 Wikipedia

My friends on the mainland think just because I live in Hawaii, I live in paradise.

Like a permanent vacation.

We’re all just out here sipping Mai Tais, shaking our hips, catching waves.

Are they insane?

Do they think we are immune to life?

How can they possibly think our families are less screwed up, our cancers less fatal, our heartaches less painful?

Hell, I haven’t been on a surfboard in fifteen years.

For the last twenty-three days I’ve been living in a paradise of IVs, and urine bags, and tracheal tubes.

Paradise.

Paradise can go fuck itself.

This opening voiceover sets the terms of reference with regard to The Descendants, Alexander Payne’s remarkable new film. It tells the story of a personal and a family crisis, and it does so by walking a fine line between comedy and tragedy; in other words, the paradox of the human condition. Creating such a fine line is a particularly difficult task, but not for The Descendants; every shot and every line is hitting the right chord, thus sustaining an elegant emotional balance. And just like life itself, it is a refreshingly unpredictable film; clear and yet subtle, cinematically intelligent and at the same time emotionally rich. 

The voiceover is narrated by Matt King (George Clooney), a middle-aged lawyer and estranged husband, whose wife has fallen into a coma after a boating accident, and is to be disconnected from life support according to her living will. Matt now has to help his two young daughters come to terms with the situation, despite the fact that until the accident he had been ‘the backup parent, the understudy.’ On top of everything, he finds out that his wife was having an affair, and eventually embarks on a journey to seek her lover out. George Clooney’s acting is superb, and his portrayal of Matt King brings out all of the character’s emotional complexity, in the most natural of ways. And while the entire supporting cast is exceptionally good, it would be unfair not to underline Shailene Woodley’s fine performance as the elder daughter Alex. 

The Descendants is an adaptation of the novel by the Hawaiian author Kaui Hart Hemmings, who also makes a cameo appearance as Matt King’s secretary. Location is of particular importance to the film in that Hawaii comes across as an integral part of the narrative, rather than its visual background. In cinematic terms it is interpreted as an everyday living - and dying - space, instead of some kind of exotic holiday landscape; and as such, it complements the emotional turbulence involved in Matt King’s journey from alienation to responsibility. It also underlines the wider social significance of his change of character, when as the sole trustee of a family trust of vast unspoiled land, he refuses to sell against the will of his greedy cousins.

Alexander Payne’s perspective is insightfully two-fold: the film is about dealing with the death of a loved one, as it is about masculinity in crisis. And one of the most interesting aspects of The Descendants is that the narrative deconstructs Matt King’s gender roles, but also refuses to restore them as such; control is not regained, because there cannot be any control over death. What can be, however, is an invaluable acknowledgement of one’s own faults and weaknesses; in a key scene, Matt turns to Alex’s boyfriend Sid (Nick Krause), whom he considers to be ‘retarded,’ only to find out that he had lost his father a few months ago. Matt’s course from husband to widower involves a better understanding of himself and the world around him, which eventually allows him to develop an enhanced emotional connection with his daughters, as well as to tenderly say goodbye to his wife one last time. This course is, above all, a learning process; and he learns how to change, because he learns how to listen. And in this respect, The Descendants is also a film about what perhaps is the dearest thing in life: hope.

wmfo.org

For the film’s trailer, see here.

Black Gold: a new video by Esperanza Spalding

 thisisrnb.com

Esperanza Spalding has just released a video for Black Gold, the first single from her upcoming album Radio Music Society.  The song features guest vocals by Algebra Blessett, and the video includes references to key African figures such as Sundiata Keita, Miriam Makeba, Salif Keita, Nelson Mandela, Desmond Tutu, and Fela Kuti.

After the rain

Athens, 07.12.2011

Ko-Ko, by Charlie Parker

Charlie Parker, Three Deuces, New York, 1947 

Photograph by William Gottlieb  last.fm

The genius of Charlie Parker gave birth to one of the most important changes in the history of music: Bebop was the aesthetic and technical breakthrough which put forward jazz musicians as accomplished artists, and also influenced works as diverse as those of the Beat generation and Jean-Michel Basquiat. I was twenty-two years old when I first listened to Ko-Ko, and my relationship with music changed forever. Ko-Ko also features landmark performances by Dizzy Gillespie (trumpet), Curley Russell (bass), and Max Roach (drums).

Afro Blue, by John Coltrane

A unique sound: its passion and strength could only be matched by its elegance and intelligence. And a musician who was a whole world of innovation and creativity, dedication and integrity, political and cultural references. I happen to owe John Coltrane much more than words can express; the first track of his I ever listened to was this astonishing live version of Afro Blue, by what today is addressed as the classic John Coltrane Quartet with McCoy Tyner (piano), Jimmy Garrison (bass), and Elvin Jones (drums).

 

John Coltrane, The Village Gate, New York, 1961

Photograph by Herb Snitzer  jazztimes.com