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
Min Ye (Tell Me Who You Are), Souleymane Cissé - This was difficult to watch without understanding the context of women's rights and current politics in Mali. It felt really cyclical and never really resolved for me - I think that was the point. I'm glad I stayed to hear the director speak about the film. He himself said that at first, this film appears to be quite banal, but when you understand the politics of Mali right now, how women were just denied many rights, this is a very important discussion. (The film follows a woman in a polygamous marriage who is having an affair with a man who is also in a polygamous marriage - Big Love Mali style).
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!
Labels: BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, FILM, SEX, YOUTUBE
He has not flown for years but why not
be a
black speck raking its way toward the crater of Icchantikas on icy possibles,
why not rotate
the inhuman Andes at a personal angle and retreat when it spins-if it does
and if not, win
bolts of wind like slaps of wood and the bitter red drumming of wing muscle on air -
he flicks Record.
-Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red
If you're in Toronto come to the Bad Day Issue 3 (a great publication by Eva Michon and Colin Bergh) launch on Thursday. Details above - website HERE.
Labels: ART, BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, FASHION, FILM, PHOTOGRAPHY
Go visit DBUBBLE DANCE and make sure you encourage Brendy to keep posting interesting and valuable dance clips, because the world needs better dance.
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.
And Sandra Oh? Really?
On the other hand, I'm gagging to see THIS
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:
FLYING NUN
TALENT SHOW
MARILYN'S EGG
ROBERTO BENIGNI
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:
FLYING NUN
TALENT SHOW
MARILYN'S EGG
ROBERTO BENIGNI
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.
Either way, you shold BUY TICKETS NOW!
Labels: BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, DESPERATE AND SAD, REALLY FUCKING GAY, THINGS I WISH I'D DONE
Has the MOMA called yet?
Labels: BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, NOBODY LIKES A NERD, THINGS I WISH I'D DONE
I made a one minute short for THE FUCK DEATH FOUNDATION for their screening and fundraiser:
Friday, January 25th
8PM
Camera Bar
1028 Queen Street West
Toronto
$5 Cover
My short will be shown before the main event - Ingmar Bergman's "The Seventh Seal".
Come kill death.
MORE INFO
Labels: BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, DEATH AND DRAMA, I MADE THIS. ME. GRAYDON., MAYBE THE FUTURE WILL BE BETTER
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.
Also check out GOLD DRESSES. These dances look inspired by of one of my fave dances by ANNE TERESA DE KEERSMAEKER AND MICHELE ANNE DE MEY. Lots of Ann(e)s dancing.
Thanks to Dubble Bubble Boy for leading me to it.
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.
Labels: BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, THINGS I WISH I'D DONE
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.
Labels: BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, DESPERATE AND SAD, MAYBE THE FUTURE WILL BE BETTER, NARCISSISM
Artist PINAR YOLACAN went to Central St Martin's, Chelsea School, and Cooper Union. Then she
Above is from Pinar's latest series and below from an older work.
Via INSTINTO GUAPO.
Labels: BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, BUY ME THIS, DEATH AND DRAMA, EW, THINGS I WISH I'D DONE
Skip to the end if you want to see a funny picture.
Otherwise, read on if you dare. I warn you, it's gonna get a bit "free-flowy."
You know how sometimes a theme pops up in your life? A bunch of coincidental things happen in a row and it feels too unlikely that it's just a coincidence? I love that. Even though it probably just is a coincidence or you're thinking about something so you're more atune to other happenings of the same nature.
Anyway, my most recent theme is the relation between consciousness and physicality - mind and body (sort of).
If you've ever been high, whatever your drug choice is, you know that physical reactions cause mental changes. Drinking makes you drunk, smoking pot makes you paranoid or giggly or lightheaded, taking ecstasy makes you euphoric, heroin makes every pain melt away. Even smoking a cigarette causes a mental change.
I'm reading "Theatre of the Mind" by Jay Ingram right now. He used to host "Daily Planet" on the Discovery Channel and "Quirks and Quarks" on CBC. I saw the book at my friend Claire and Jaron's apartment a while ago and decided to buy it recently. It seemed a more plausible read than my perpetually half-finished "Godel Escher Bach" endeavour (that was an inside joke for GEB-readers) that started 4 years ago.
I'm not that far into "Theatre of the Mind," but it's about trying to understand what consciousness is, if it is tied to a specific physical part of our bodies, and why we are conscious of ourselves. (The book talks about animals being alive and thinking about getting food or escaping harm, but that animals don't stop and ponder themselves. Their feelings are direct responses to the present.) Ingram often talks about how our conscious thoughts seem to appear behind our eyes. When you recall a memory or think of what an apple looks like, the image seems to present itself one or two inches back from the centre of your eyes (AKA, the "Theatre of the Mind," the stage on which your consciousness plays out). Why don't these visions materialize at the back of the head, or a couple inches outside of the skull? Is it possible to have out of body experiences by moving your conscious
Apparently, ancient cultures believed the heart to be the centre of consciousness because it is where the physical response to conscious thought most obviously appears. I have always struggled to understand why thoughts I have can cause physical pains or aches in my body. I also am trying to understand why drugs and alcohol can make those pains disappear.
This brings up when I first thought about separating my consciousness from my physical self. After a mind-bending (read inebriated) summer, I had a thought about the idea of Heaven. I have always thought that Heaven would be pretty damn boring. I mean, if you have to do boring things and follow The Bible or whatever doctrine you choose to follow in order to get into Heaven or Nirvana then chances are you have to keep doing those things once you're in. SNORE. I always find the best things in life are the opposite of religious ideals. Namely sex, drugs, and all those other deadly sins. My idea of Heaven is a bareback massage orgy in chocolate sauce followed by cancer-free cigarettes and champagne with HENRY CAVILL (shut up he's hot) on the couch watching endless all new episodes of The Sarah Silverman Program and throwing my best actor/director/screenwriter Oscars at the screen when we don't like a joke one of the ugly gays makes (I have a LOT of Oscars in Heaven). At least that's one version.
So, if being free of all those wonderful sinful things on Earth is what gets you into Heaven, then you must have to do those things in Heaven. And if that's all you do in Heaven, then shouldn't the people who do those things on Earth be in Heaven already? Heaven on Earth? Shouldn't they be so blissed out by being good Christians that they have no pain in their lives? If not, what's going to make them be blissed out in Heaven? What's going to be different? That's when it came to me. Heaven, if it does exist, is a place where no matter what you're doing you're enjoying it. That's exactly what drugs are. Why else would it be so much fun to be pure?
So then, if Heaven is the same thing as drugs, then why not just do drugs all the time? Why not just alienate yourself from everyone and chase the dragon off the cliff? Get higher and higher till you die. You'd be in Heaven on Earth, and since I don't actually believe in any afterlife, why not experience it now? It's a complete separation of your mind from your body - or at least an alteration of your body by your mind.
This is the idea of Tantra and Tantric sex as well - using your mind to create bliss in your body.
Same with trying to attain Nirvana - you're attempting to free your mind from the constraints of the body. My friend Ariel just went to a retreat and meditated in silence for 10 hours a day for 10 days straight. She wrote to me:
"Back from meditating. I'm enlightened, wheee!
But really, I am changed. Life changed. Clear. Inspired. I have learned how
to release and free myself from misery."
Thank God it worked cause I didn't do the website changes she asked me to do while she was gone.
My friend David was looking at himself in a reflection on the streetcar. He said he feels better knowing he can see himself. He said it would be great to be able to get past the idea of the reflection as only a narcissistic object. I told him that I remembered looking into the mirror as a kid, really looking. I was only 6, and it was the first time I thought "Why am I in this body?" It's funny how shit you figure out or think about as a kid comes back up in university, and you think "Oh, I really was touching on some deep crap when I was 6." Anyway, I remember it really freaking me out that my conscious mind seemed to be this alien peeking through my eyes and analyzing the physical form of me that I could see in the mirror. In that last sentance "I" becomes a manifestation of two beings - the physical "I" and the conscious "I". This is something I recognized when I was 6.
So then I just watched PAPRIKA, an Anime film about a machine that allows you to share your dreams - the actual experience of your dreams - with other people. People are able to visit other conscious minds. The dreams meld into each other and soon the physical world and dream world meld and switch. People act out their dreams in real life and die, people get killed in the real world from dream-wounds, and dream-objects enter the real world. It touches where Nightmare on Elm Street and The Cell could not.
Then while listening to Anna Karenina (I bought the audiobook to listen to during the drudgery of housework - thanks to CORRIBLE for the reco) yesterday a few characters discussed whether or not "a line should be drawn between the physiological and psychological experience in man. And if so, where?" They go on to talk about how if they can't even understand the psychological experience (consciousness) then how could they denounce religion/spirituality? That freaked me out. Anna fucking Karenina was preaching to me about consciousness and Heaven.
Finally, tonight, I went to see a movie. I'm completely ashamed of myself for wanting to see it, and for actually going to see it in a theatre. If it makes you feel better I didn't have to pay for it. I went to see..........ENCHANTED! Heaven help me for admitting that on my blog, but if you've come this far I expect that you might be open to hearing what I have to say about it.
I went to see it with a friend, who shall remain nameless in order to protect his or her identity, because I needed something light and stupid and funny and kind of wanted to see Enchanted. So did my friend. Plus Amy Adams is such a fuckin great actress. We laughed at ourselves as we skooched past little girls and their fathers to find our seats. In the movie, a Disney princess is cast into our world by a wicked witch so that she can't marry the wicked witch's stepson, the prince, and become queen. I knew the premise before I went, but I didn't realize until we were in the theatre why I was drawn to see it (other than the fact that I've seen The Little Mermaid about 50 times). It hit me that it was all about physical and dream states. Also, a fairytale Disney romance is many-a-person's idea of heaven. This movie was a very simplistic take on reality versus dream, physical versus dream/spirit/consciousness.
So this theme of separating reality, mind from body, physical from conscious keeps presenting itself. It keeps challenging me to take it on. But what will be my weapon? Booze? Drugs? Meditation? Tantra? Books? Films? Love?
Fucked if I know. Look at the kitties!
Labels: BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, DEATH AND DRAMA, DESPERATE AND SAD, MAYBE THE FUTURE WILL BE BETTER, NARCISSISM, NOBODY LIKES A NERD, REALLY FUCKING GAY, SEX
How did Courtney Love not play NANCY SPUNGEN in SID AND NANCY
I still love you Gretchen.
Labels: BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, DEATH AND DRAMA
I've had a VIVIENNE WESTWOOD day. I happened to come across her and her work about 4 or 5 times by chance. I'm so fucking inspired that I'm going to grow my hair, dye it orange, and wear it in a messy circle braid or glorious curls to family functions, and I'm gonna be god damned proud of it. I can't wait!
Labels: BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, BUY ME THIS, MAYBE THE FUTURE WILL BE BETTER, NARCISSISM, REALLY FUCKING GAY, THINGS I WISH I'D DONE
Enjoy your weekends.
Via MNMN
Labels: BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, DEATH AND DRAMA, DESPERATE AND SAD, MAYBE THE FUTURE WILL BE BETTER
The following quote was lifted from ENCHANT AND DOOM's entry about SOPHIE CALLE'S piece on her dying mother:
On 15 February last year I received two simultaneous phone calls. One told me that I had been invited to exhibit at Venice. The other was from my mother: she had a month to live. I wanted to be there when she died, but everybody said: she will go when you leave the room, when you've wandered into the kitchen with a cup. So I set up a camera in her room and for 80 hours I stayed awake, changing the tape each hour, hoping to capture the moment of her death. It was impossible: I couldn't tell the moment. When I told my mother about Venice, she said: 'to think that I won't be there'. But she will be: my film shows the last 20 minutes of her life, it's called "Couldn’t Capture Death."
DDDDDRRRRRRRRAMMMMAAAAA!
Labels: BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, DEATH AND DRAMA
In the episode BLAME IT ON ART a balloon animal artist is shunned by his peers when he finds success, and David Sedaris debunks being an artist. This hits the spot.
Labels: BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, MAYBE THE FUTURE WILL BE BETTER
Yesterday I went to see the experimental shorts at the RENDEZVOUS WITH MADNESS film festival at the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health in Toronto.
One that stood out for me was DANIEL BARROW'S film Artist Statement. He used an old computer painting/animation program to great visual effect while candidly narrating about how he was feeling about his art and why he creates.
I wrote to him when I got home, partly to gush and partly to ask if I could use his images.
Here's an excerpt:
I was really moved by ARTIST STATEMENT. I was also envious that you so eloquently expressed so many of the feelings I'm having about where I'm at in my career right now. Shame, honesty, and fear are themes that I really want to bring out in my work and I really loved how succinctly you addressed those points in the voiceover while illustrating them so damn brilliantly on the screen. That paint program is amazing and how you used it was inspiring.
The pressure to create is also such a counter-intuitive part of the package so it was nice to see that an artist I respected was willing to divulge his self-perceived (because I would not have known that you were struggling) shortcomings.
So if you can, see the film. At least check out HIS SITE (especially the Snow Globe section and the Trading Cards which you can buy for me if you want to....)
Oh and there was a great score for the short by THE BALLET.
Labels: BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, BUY ME THIS, NARCISSISM, REALLY FUCKING GAY, THINGS I WISH I'D DONE
I wrote the rant following the video below after reading my friend Claire's post about Lynch and commercialism vs. artistic merit over at ENCHANT AND DOOM.
The above video is of some commercials by ROY ANDERSSON.
Here's my rant-comment from E&D:
Nothing makes me angrier than the "ARTIST or SELLOUT" debate.
When I first started doing ads after getting a degree in Fine Art, I lost some friends because of it. I got so paranoid of being a sellout that I thought people were against me that weren't.
Because of this I did a ton of research on commercial artists versus "pure" artists. There are very few who have been able to live without producing commercial work (especially those in Canada who are under a conservative regime at the moment).
Kenneth Anger is someone who has remained a "pure" artist, and even he has said that he regrets being such a renegade because now people just rip him off and he gets no credit or money for what he created.
TONS of people who are very successful filmmakers and photographers and artists have done commercial work. Wes Anderson (of course), Nan Goldin, even Roy Andersson (who directed SONGS FROM THE SECOND FLOOR) have done lots of commercial work (Andersson directed at least 300 commercials between his first film (which flopped) and SONGS).
Look at the old UNITED COLORS OF BENETTON ads, or a million other ads that so-called "pure" artists have produced.
Anyway, point is, the people I had lost now think I'm crazy for even taking a break from advertising. Turns out I took too much stock in the opinions of those people. Turns out it doesn't matter what the people think, you just have to do what you want or need to do and you have to separate your passion from your practical needs (such as food and shelter). Turns out I lost those friends because they judged my career choices instead of supporting me, not because I chose to do commercials or because I felt I was disapopinting them. I even thought my boyfriend at the time was dead against me doing anything commercial and that I was letting him down.
The idea of a "sellout" comes from the hoi polloi's own insecurities OR your own insecurities. I considered myself a sellout for a long time. Then when I thought I would just be an artist wasn't able to eat for days at a time and decided that that really sucked and I would rather be a "sellout" than dead. Even artists sell their work.
So good for Lynch. He has his priorities straight. He does commercials for products and does a damn fine job (I'd rather watch a Lynch or Andersson or Anderson directed commercial than 99.99% of the shit commercials that are on TV anyway) and he directs amazing films with NO PRODUCT PLACEMENT!
Sorry for the rant. Maybe it's cause I just drank a whole bottle of champagne and ate a batch of cookies instead of having dinner.
Apparently Ingmar Bergman says Roy Andersson's commercials (posted above) "are the best in the world".
Accept it.
The above video is of some commercials by ROY ANDERSSON.
Here's my rant-comment from E&D:
Nothing makes me angrier than the "ARTIST or SELLOUT" debate.
When I first started doing ads after getting a degree in Fine Art, I lost some friends because of it. I got so paranoid of being a sellout that I thought people were against me that weren't.
Because of this I did a ton of research on commercial artists versus "pure" artists. There are very few who have been able to live without producing commercial work (especially those in Canada who are under a conservative regime at the moment).
Kenneth Anger is someone who has remained a "pure" artist, and even he has said that he regrets being such a renegade because now people just rip him off and he gets no credit or money for what he created.
TONS of people who are very successful filmmakers and photographers and artists have done commercial work. Wes Anderson (of course), Nan Goldin, even Roy Andersson (who directed SONGS FROM THE SECOND FLOOR) have done lots of commercial work (Andersson directed at least 300 commercials between his first film (which flopped) and SONGS).
Look at the old UNITED COLORS OF BENETTON ads, or a million other ads that so-called "pure" artists have produced.
Anyway, point is, the people I had lost now think I'm crazy for even taking a break from advertising. Turns out I took too much stock in the opinions of those people. Turns out it doesn't matter what the people think, you just have to do what you want or need to do and you have to separate your passion from your practical needs (such as food and shelter). Turns out I lost those friends because they judged my career choices instead of supporting me, not because I chose to do commercials or because I felt I was disapopinting them. I even thought my boyfriend at the time was dead against me doing anything commercial and that I was letting him down.
The idea of a "sellout" comes from the hoi polloi's own insecurities OR your own insecurities. I considered myself a sellout for a long time. Then when I thought I would just be an artist wasn't able to eat for days at a time and decided that that really sucked and I would rather be a "sellout" than dead. Even artists sell their work.
So good for Lynch. He has his priorities straight. He does commercials for products and does a damn fine job (I'd rather watch a Lynch or Andersson or Anderson directed commercial than 99.99% of the shit commercials that are on TV anyway) and he directs amazing films with NO PRODUCT PLACEMENT!
Sorry for the rant. Maybe it's cause I just drank a whole bottle of champagne and ate a batch of cookies instead of having dinner.
Apparently Ingmar Bergman says Roy Andersson's commercials (posted above) "are the best in the world".
Accept it.
Labels: BAD DOG, BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, DESPERATE AND SAD, MAYBE THE FUTURE WILL BE BETTER, NARCISSISM
Yesterday I finished reading DEAR DIARY by Lesley Arfin. I don't know why I read it. It was a vapid, self-indulgent tell-all written for teenaged girls that was not at all shocking, self-deprecating, or interesting even. I thought it might get somewhere interesting (maybe like GO ASK ALICE, which is also written for teenaged girls but is much more forthright), but it was just a rich girl from Jersey whining about how hard it was to spend all her parents' money on heroin while partying in New York for a few years.
And the worst part is that now she's profiting from it. She got published through her junkie douchebag connections at Vice and has her face plastered on the cover.
Then Chloe Sevigny writes the intro. Chloe Sevigny who got famous because she hung out with Harmony Korine at Washington Square Park doing drugs and skateboarding. WHAT THE HELL?!
I guess I'll just stop trying, go on welfare, smoke crack, get real skinny, sell drugs, steal, lie, and hang out in New York til I get rich and famous.
Actually that sounds like fun.
Labels: BAD DOG, BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, MAYBE THE FUTURE WILL BE BETTER, NARCISSISM
My big boss lady took me out for a delicious dish last night (coz it's me birfday on Sunday). She told me about THIS ARTICLE written by Ian Curtis' daughter Natalie about the Joy Division singer's biopic, CONTROL.
Labels: BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, DEATH AND DRAMA
Last week my friend BECKY emerged from her unabomber cabin in the remote wilds of Jasper, drove across the country, and then rang my doorbell. I thought I'd post a few of her photos and tell you to go visit HER SITE.
Labels: BOOKS MOVIES AND OTHER CULTURALISTICALITIES, THINGS I WISH I'D DONE