I went to my first opera tonight. I saw The Barber of Seville at The Met. I got rush tickets for twenty bucks (normally almost three hundred dollar tickets!) and my seat was 15 rows from the stage. I couldn't believe it.
With all this talk of Aristotelean act structure and reading a lot of Bazin's realist film theory in school I thought it would be a good idea to go see live theatre. It's cool to watch from the perspective of wanting to write and direct films - how the writer weaves the story, how the director directs the eye on stage and interprets the nearly 200-year-old opera. Also, I realized how much exposition there is in opera and musicals in general - somehow you can get away with telling the audience exactly how you feel and what you're thinking when you sing, unlike in non-musical theatre where the more intriguing externalization of the psyche is brought about through the characters' actions, the mise-en-scene, the editing, the camera movements - pretty much anything but saying it right out loud. (Basically all this is me trying to spit back out what I've been hearing in class every day for the past few weeks - I feel like I only really know something when I can explain it to someone else - maybe I'm doing a bad job but this is helping me...so sorry for the zzzzzz).
I found I had something in common with Count Almaviva and Rosina in the Music Lesson Scene. In this scene, Almaviva is pretending to be Rosina's music teacher so that they can speak as lovers, but Rosina's benefactor, Doctor Bartolo (the man who intends to marry her before Almaviva can), is in the room. So Rosina and Almaviva sing their messages to each other through a fake aria called "The Unnecessary Precaution". They profess their love to each other in plain view of Bartolo. This kind of code shows up in Moulin Rouge when whoserface and whatsisname pretend to be practicing for the play but are really singing about themselves.
I realized I have regularly done the same thing. How many times have I tried to get out some secret message using songs as code? I often attach great meaning to music and then put the music out there in hopes of the intended recipient getting the message. It's so silly. I remember being very young and blaring Alanis Morissette's "Perfect" from my room when I was mad at my mom. It didn't get any better or any less cheesy from then on. I guess in these instances of trying to get my point across, pure exposition would serve me better - I should just say what I mean. Easier said than sung, I guess. Or vice versa.
Anyway, school has been very busy and great. I have also seen some NYFF and other screenings. I will give my brief reviews now:
To Die Like a Man - As one review I read put it: "It's difficult to make a film about drag queens, murderous gay soldiers, and heroin addicts tedious, but that's exactly what this film does."
Trash Humpers, Harmony Korine - Yes Yes Yes! I think I'm going to be a trash humper for Halloween. "Three
Rachel Is, Charlotte Glynn - My classmate Charlotte made this film about her developmentally delayed sister, Rachel, and their family's search for housing for Rachel. It was really great and if you get the chance to see it you should. Check the website for more info and a trailer - RACHELIS.COM.
Otherwise I'm working like heck at school and I'll have lots more to share, just not very often. I'm starting to write a treatment for my reverse oedipal sci-fi thriller feature length script. When I finish the script next semester maybe I'll share it with you dear friends. Wish me luck!
Although it looks much better than THIS and the promise of dirty sex has me intrigued, I don't know how excited I am about the new Catherine Breillat film, THE LAST MISTRESS. I will try to reserve judgment until I actually see it. I like how Asia Argento is styled...but I'm not convinced by her acting yet.
I'm totally put off by this TRAILER FOR BLINDNESS. I was a little skeptical when I heard about the film version of Jose Saramago's terrifying novel, but held out until I saw some images. This looks like it's going to be a big disappointment. Just the way they transferred the film makes me shiver in a bad way - my boyfriend looks like Anne Frank in Schindler's List in the screen cap above. I also think the guy behind him is looking into the lens.
ALEYSA and I finally went to see Harmony Korine's MISTER LONELY last night.
The theatre was empty and we drank wine during the movie. It was amazing - it was like how rich people with home theatres watch movies.
The movie was very stylish and had some really beautiful moments like the flying nuns and Marilyn Monroe and Shirley Temple in the woods being pushed on a swing by Little Red Riding Hood. I think, though, that it would have been better if there was no dialogue - the visuals told the whole story, and the dialogue was pretty redundant. Except for the scene with the priest and the adulterer.
Anyway, we got restless and tipsy and the following images are the result of a perfect storm of fun:
Tonight's your last chance in Toronto to see DANIEL BARROW perform "Every Time I See Your Picture I Cry":
Daniel Barrow's newest "manual animation" combines overhead projection, with video, music, and live narration to tell the story of a garbage man with a vision to chronicle the lives of all the citizens in the city. Traversing the streets, drawing pictures of people as they sleep and gleaning what he can of people's lives through their trash, what he doesn't know is that a deranged lunatic is trailing him, killing off each citizen he records in his book, thus rendering his cataloguing efforts obsolete.
Maybe I misinterpreted it but I didn't think the central character was a garbage-man, but Barrow himself...or maybe I'm not so smart.
Just cause a woman sticks her head in a toilet in a performance doesn't mean it's about eating disorders. Don't be racist. The above is an excerpt from a performance created by ANN LIV YOUNG.
I was upset at having found THESE PHOTOS by CARSTEN HOLLER cause I thought they were anaglyphs and I cursed myself for not having taken 3Ds at the fair last summer...but it looks like they're just separated and shifted CMYK channels...phew!
I discovered these photos via a great blog called I HEART PHOTOGRAPH (thanks to Claire) which is now on my blogroll on the right-hand sidebar.
It's true. I remember a friend of mine used to tell me her dreams every day at school and it was the most boring thing I could imagine. I mean, it didn't even happen...it's of no consequence...and I can't/won't decipher it, so why are you telling me?
Anyway, the title of this post was my favourite line from THE DIVING BELL AND THE BUTTERFLY (that's a truly hideous and misleading schmaltzy website by the way). I went with my dearie Johanna (who just applied to Yale among other schools to do her MFA...let's wish her luckies!) after a gorgeous dinner at the A&W in the food court under The Bay.
Sooooooo...I expected to be manipulated to death as the film is about Jean-Dominique Bauby, the former editor of Elle France who suffers a stroke. The stroke causes "Locked-In Syndrome," meaning that he is completely paralyzed (save for his left eye) but can see, hear, and think as usual. He is literally a prisoner inside his body. It's pretty heavy. But, as I was saying, it wasn't depressing. In fact, the film was quite uplifting through its pained lens.
It's shot very cleverly, making you feel the panic and claustrophobia of being trapped in paralysis as well as feeling nostalgia and hope through the lens that mimics Jean-Dominique's good eye as well as his mind's eye.
Johanna turned to me after the credits and said "That was sad." My response was "Yet, I'm jealous of him." HA! How terrible. But it's true...at this point I'd rather be the editor of Elle with 3 kids, an ex-wife, a hot lover, a wicked car, who then strokes out in France and gets a cool rare condition and then writes a best-seller turned posthumous bio-pic than a lonely, bitter, head-shaving, pancake eating, Oprah watching, Canadian. Oh well.
Artist PINAR YOLACAN went to Central St Martin's, Chelsea School, and Cooper Union. Then she (he?) fashioned clothes out of meat and photographed women wearing the pieces. Is that all you have to do?
Above is from Pinar's latest series and below from an older work.