glimpse of an eternity

Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time.- Albert Camus

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A Song of Good and Evil, by Philippe Sands and starring Vanessa Redgrave, Laurent Naouri and Guillaume de Chassy, played at the South Bank Centre Purcell Room 29-30 November, thereafter in Stockholm (Jan 14, 2015) and Nuremberg and across Europe.  
BBC Radio3's In Tune (6 days left to listen)

 http://www.timeshighereducation.co.uk/features/culture/a-song-of-good-and-evil-by-philippe-sands/2016872.article
  
A watercolour of Munich's old city hall, believed to be painted by Adolf Hitler, sold recently to an anonymous Middle East buyer. A question was also begged by The Monuments Men that if Hitler truly hated degenerate art as much as he did Jews why did he order such care to be taken in safeguarding so much degenerate art (in the salt mines) looted from museums of Europe?

Vanessa Redgrave has a small but critical role in Foxcatcher (Jan 9) as the mother of billionaire wrestling sport 'savior' John du Pont. Some if not many ‘rich’ abhor idleness believe it or not.  Du Pont hungered to possess knowledge; the mysterious engine of viscous creation. To carve his own character and other mens' equally within and apart his family heritage. Yet the ‘Rosebud’ erodes and always cracks an end. A disturbingly beautiful film, knock out performances helmed by Bennett Miller and writers E.Max Frye/Dan Futterman. The film should win [is that a spoiler alert;] a Golden Globe or two on Jan 11 and whoever/whatever wins next year’s Oscars, Foxcatcher will be up there in many hearts: if the film doesn’t mirror many a Hollywood experience what does?

Watch the film first THEN see the real John E du Pont? Is he ‘acting’ John du Pont in a faux 'Fred Wiseman doc'? No disrespect to Bennett Miller or Steve Carell but Foxcatcher is inevitably a construct. But then so is the world…The initial Cannes 2014 reviews that complained about lack of truth just roll ones’ eyes.  What the fuck do these people know about anything! Let alone reality! As Picasso didn’t quite say: America is a lie that makes us realize the truth. At least the truth that is given us to understand. 

19min into this 92nd St Y discussion Christoph Waltz (Walter Kean, Big Eyes) 

'We're soldiers of the Queer [sic.] my lads'.... John Boorman's Queen and Country (UK- May 8)


Finding Vivian Maier is on Soda Pictures DVD/Blu-Ray. Did this nanny by day and photographer perambulator amass not piles but mountains of newspapers because she thought every human story was worth telling? Or was she just a loopy great eye?

Tim Burton's Big Eyes is on general release. Walter Keane (movie version): "What's wrong with the lowest common denominator? That's what this country was built on."

One other thought: why did du Pont buy the British Guiana 1856 1c black on magenta stamp in 1980? Simply sound investment? One lone survivor of anything collectible would only appreciate exponentially in value. Was there more to it than that? Was it the adventuring ship with the motto, "Damus Petimus Que Vicissim" (We give and expect in return)? Was it the 12-year-old Scottish schoolboy, L. Vernon Vaughan who discovered the stamp in 1873 and let it go because there was no record of it? Or was it that sole surviving act of human activity and creation and an extant working man's signature on a makeshift stamp? Or is that romancing the stone...

INTERSTELLAR

The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination.- -  -       -     - Albert Einstein
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Beethoven - String Quartet No.13 in B flat major, Op.130

 

a strange tomorrow

Too Many Mornings

too

Probably more a tangent to Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s new film Winter Sleep. But it was Andrew’s juxta-film so hey what the ho!
Can’t say that I could ever be an acolyte of Cannes (with the greatest respect to its participants). But in my opinion Winter Sleep deserved its accolade. Sitting in an uncomfortable seat at the New York premiere having missed my yoga classes I still managed 3 and a quarter hours later without squirming.
hey, ho, the wind and the rain.

 

RAINDANCE FILM FESTIVAL 2014

Indy film fest RAINDANCE starts TODAY! Lots of stuff you're unlikely to see anywhere else. That (at least from past years) isn't because they are no good and/or boring. Just very few others were interested. Anyone remember Johnny Daukes'  Acts of Godfrey?
 

clogs, kangaroos, penguins and the strangeness of foot...

please: if anyone else is destined for a little 'snuff' of the candle this week is there any chance it could all be over by Monday? Just so that we can mourn in our holidays. Have a little excuse for a drink. sorry Robin..) Not having to host or appear on talk shows in tears or bravery once September is back. We don't want to curtail creativity but..really it is all a little hard for a little bear to bear. And SHAME on you Robin Williams. YOU should still be making the jokes, not putting up with me treading water.

Anyone remember Lauren Bacall: brave bitch to have acceded to a Lars von Trier film;) And like Robin Williams, she never rested on laurels. The Forger looks interesting.

Australian composer Peter Sculthorpe popped off this week.
Two obits from Oz press.

Somewhere in one of my unopened ‘peripatetic’ boxes is an original CD of his Burke & Wills 1995 soundtrack that, stranger than fiction, was found from a ‘bootlegging’ street seller in an obscure Italian town on the Adriatic. Now how appropriate is that!

p.s. who knew 'Mumble' loved YouTube.... (though not its genuflecting attitude to copyright. But: Mumble will be very pleased with the royalties of his new Glob Warm, Bam Mam No Thanks Chum,We Loves Ice album released reluctantly by New Murdoch News Inc in 2020 and much to their chagrin earning more than... (well as Steve Sondheim once wisely wrote "don't finish that sentence")...Mumble is quoted as saying: "...sure beats having your ****__*** stolen at the American Bar in the Hamptons"

now...who stole my beans....?

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Very beautiful BBC 2014 Proms performance of Mahler’s 4th Symphony from conductor Bernard Haitink and the London Symphony Orchestra. What maestro Haitink (now 85) doesn’t know about conducting Gustav Mahler is probably not that important. (as the BBC Prom link has expired, I'm sure Maestro Haitink wouldn't mind me handing the baton to the late great Claudio Abbado (28min in - before and after is equally !!!). The slow movement of Mahler’s 5^th Symphony (the Death in Venice soundtrack) is very familiar yet in so many ways the 3^rd movement of the 4^th Symphony is even more soulful and scary. It’s as if a church from a Lyonel Feininger painting is manifested on a teetering clifftop and all the animals bow their heads joining forces out of hiding to pay respects to the dead creature amongst them under the clear blue sky. That’s until…

The BBC's Mahler page

ROBIN WILLIAMS (1951-2014)

I always thought it strange to ask for autographs. But my mother gave me a book for them one Christmas. Strange because my Mum knew a shit load of influential people and never paraded any photos of her and ‘them’ in front of me. Even as an aspiring young actor I couldn’t see the point. I actually met these people. And then actually worked beside them! Why do I need a squiggle on a sheet of paper? Or God forbid the 2014 ‘Andy Warhol’ equivalent photo op of a ‘selfie’. Perhaps Rene Descartes on acid: I digitize with them therefore I am. My Mum was actually, cleverly preparing me for the world’s reality: that it is very hard to sparkle in that great sea. Something I thought I’d surpassed her on but in realty has always and will always be the same. Mr Williams would have chortled at that autograph album with great affection for my Mum I am sure. When you see a documentary about how being obsessed with a particular rock band or whoever saved the participants lives I totally buy it. At least it beats drugs!

I remember watching Robin on a UK talk show many years ago- was he happy, sad?- it is always hard to tell because great talents just don’t indulge themselves like that. But he was tired, jet-lagged maybe on something but then most probably maybe not.  He was as sharp and funny, funny as sharp as ever. He laughed at a pair of scissors. (This was the post 9/11 years. But he was respectful and understanding if totally frustrated by the idiocy of it all.) He didn’t say “oh btw did you pack the Islamic joke book yourself, sir?- nor –‘I hear the ‘car bomb’ part isn’t that funny as they got the wiring wrong. Had they never heard of someone called a joke writer?’

I remember Robin bouncing down the center aisle stairs at the 1999 Deauville Film Festival to join the very very great of Hollywood as they gathered on stage to be gaped at and honored. He didn’t bounce to be noticed. Or different. It was, in truth, just all a bit of a circus at the end of the day. But when the circus comes to town it always makes people smile and gasp. I saw the Broadway revival of Pippin. I thought of Robin at the ending. The illusion. The reality. The something that you never want to take away from people’s dreams. And yet you just know it may well never happen without dire consequences.

To my mind Robin’s greatest film roles were One Hour Photo and World’s Greatest Dad. Both were about the longingly perpetuated myth of family and belonging. When people say that Robin Williams brought laughter and hope into people’s lives rather than despair it is no truer than in these two films. World’s Greatest Dad isn’t about cynicism it is about human hypocrisy. And how through exposing that one may indeed find one’s true family and being. Not even the 'great Dad', though, is portrayed to be without a sincerely self-serving streak.

You are now in a beautiful place Robin. The world always disappointed you and yet the irony was that you would have had absolutely nothing to say if the people were perfect. You would have had 3.2 kids, 2 dogs and a BBQ every summer where you would all bitch and preen and be happily, happily nothing. YOU was what people aspired to be. A free, intelligent, irreverent yet respectful spirit. (Did I say rich: the very thing you just were not that interested in. Unless a divorce came along;)

We will never make that movie together now Robin. But does it matter? We already made it! The movie was there always in our heads. And our hearts. And that is all that really matters in this hilly world of beans that complains about whether the little 'bleeders' were baked or organic. Just to be a bean. Now isn’t it?

The Daily Show Robin Williams survival Omnibus

Aladdin - Friend Like me 
 A whole new world

There is so so much wonderful Mr Williams on the internet to cheer up everyone. But I forgot Terry Gilliam’s The Fisher King. If Robin Williams had only ever made one movie he would always be remembered for this: its love, sincerity, lack of judgment, bravery. And you can’t help thinking that if someone had only asked Robin to come to the park that tomorrow morning this week, given him $100 and asked if we could film him. Spending it, giving it to the bums, or to the birds, the plants: simply saying hello to the world. He may have just said YES. He loved to work. To see. To listen. What dreams may come…

The Fisher King (1991)

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Mahler's 9th Symphony at the BBC Proms
and of course there will always be Claudio Abbado

Ryoji Ikeda: spectra (Dusk until dawn, 4 - 11 August 2014)

a drop of prophecy

Russian conductor Valery Gergiev and the World Orchestra for Peace allows Mahler to sound like Shostakovitch and Bernstein...live now BBC Proms 2014! More movements to come...

less than a drop in the great blue ocean of the sunlit sea

“I want the light of God, I want the sweet love of Jesus! I danced for the Devil; I saw him, I wrote in his book; I go back to Jesus; I kiss His hand. I saw Sarah Good with the Devil! I saw Goody Osburn with the Devil! I saw Bridget Bishop with the Devil!”

“Pray calm yourselves. I have eleven children, and I am twenty-six times a grandma, and I have seen them all through their silly seasons, and when it come on them they will run the Devil bowlegged keeping up with their mischief. I think she'll wake when she tires of it. A child's spirit is like a child, you can never catch it by running after it; you must stand still, and, for love, it will soon itself come back.”

“Great stones they lay upon his chest until he plead aye or nay. They say he give them but two words. "More weight," he says. And died.”--quotes from Arthur Miller's play The Crucible. But who cares about the truth of theatre any more. The truth clearly lies in the internet and social networking and television that promised so so much for all...and if sense of truth changes from year to year from decade to decade does anybody notice or care...

Camelot Last Scene 

“one of what we all are…less than a drop in the great blue ocean of the sunlit sea. But it seems that some of the drops sparkle…some of them do-oooooo SPARKLE! “

.....

Everybody Says Don't

Two (there may be more...;) must sees for May:

Joanna Hogg’s new film Exhibition and the world premiere of Julian Anderson’s first opera Thebans at the ENO with a libretto by Irish playwright Frank McGuinness (In Tune BBC interview May1)

the colours of yesteryear's darkness

In his latest post indefatigable movie poster advocate Adrian Curry spotted the unearthing a few years ago of 50s posters in the depths of the London underground. Even more interesting was to learn that Italian artist Nicola Simbari began his career designing posters! (revelatory if like me you may have been Simbari 'artistically challenged' to date). And a website by his wife certainly illuminates why he ever became famous in the first place e.g. the sporting page has some great images.

For more colour there could be far worse things for a Londoner to believe in than the angel in Stella Scott’s new short film.

All universe’s palette from (the lately deceased) Claudio Abbado conducting the Berlin Philharmonic in a concert recorded last May - Berlioz's Symphonie fantastique (1830). Moments where your heart stops a beat as Abbado and the Berlin Phil conjure a plangent meditative Debussy world. Berlioz dreaming. Out of place and out of time.

The beautiful tragic story of actress Dora Jordan.

NOAH

So what’s the latest news? The next ‘celeb’ suicide because the world is just not the quid pro quo you/ we were all promised? Hmmm.! Nobody even speaks Greek anymore let alone…no wonder the bi-focal-cameral dilemma led us all to …!

Meanwhile Russell Crowe is Noah! He will save us all. Though he couldn’t save Tony Scott from speaking to the waters below a bridge too far…but

Sometimes the world is REALLY only a degree of separation: I mean- Andrew’s voice coach was Russell’s ah/hmmm same Sydney teacher. I even framed/stole his DNA Shakespeare ‘spit’ to inspire me in my bathroom. You see Jonah Hill great orifices speak alike. Right? I mean Marty’s…..Oh I suddenly see angles…

Now seriously Mr Crowe: why didn’t you like my screenplay for Timothy Findlay’s Not Wanted on the Voyage? Too many alcoholic animals? Too many normal Jews? Too many normal woman telling you the truth? Oh well. Such is history.  You are there and I am HERE. There lies the …so you win in Aronofsky’s parallel world. But we all know the tangent so…

Oh- where are my erudite critical colleagues to shoot you down while never ‘rocking the boat’. THEY never tell what fascinated them when they were 13 years old….maybe that’s a good thing as Andrew might say. But hey. It’s Paramount. It’s Chinatown. Oh- LUV Liam Neeson as the Irish Leopard (so much Film Society Lincoln Center Visconti thing going on;!) – or was that Anthony Hopkins. Anyway. Enjoy. Bless. Na zdorovie.

Planet Lucre lives here...

   $    £       €

                                                     
The income gap in the United States is the highest since 1928.
And not all paintings sold at auction glorify wealth. 
(above image: digital photograph [uncorrected colour] of glass framed Pieter Breughel the Younger print [found street object] with affixed analogue photo c.1990-Andrew Lucre, 2011-both photos)

Will The Monuments Men (George Clooney doing his über  writing/directing/producing/acting thing) enlist a whole new army to attend art galleries? We’d all like to think so and in so many ways this is a very ‘likable’ movie – based on retired Texas businessman Robert M. Edsel’s books of copious research. In fact if it weren’t for Edsel’s tenacity the photo albums (collated for Hitler) of looted WW2 Nazi art would probably have become dust in the German attic of the GI’s heirs who purloined them at war’s end. Clooney’s adaption (with Grant Heslov) pushes all the right buttons and clicks the right biros but just is never in the same league as the great heist/war buddy movies of either France or America (or indeed Britain). 
 

As the film is inevitably plot driven it’s difficult to drive such a film into being commandeered by its characters to the extent that they become master portraits of ordinary people. 
Clooney is admirably aware of this it seems (hence the release delay from late last year). And if it was so easy then everyone would be making great movies of this genre. It’s all in the right direction then just peters out. Unlike many a recent movie there is indeed a sense emerging of each of these men and a skillful sketch at that. The relationship between Matt Damon’s Lt. Granger and Cate Blanchett’s Claire -Jeu de Paume Paris gallery resistance fighter- is a case in point. But in dances the scene with the hand holding dinner in Claire’s atelier after they finally trust each other. Alas, as with the rest of the magnificent cast they just can’t rise the soufflé. A frustrating shame because Clooney’s obviously put his heart into this. Here’s hoping mainstream audiences aren’t too picky because it is truly a great great story.  The rest of us will want to read all of Edsel’s books. Just goes to show how much of history simply continues untold.