Wednesday, March 31, 2021
"Do You Know Me Now?" by David Sylvian
And if you think you knew me then
You don't know me now
As the ground rose up to meet me
I kissed your mouth
You wore your boredom like an armor
But I tuned you out
And if that brought us to our knees
We laughed all the way down
I prized my daddy's ring from my hand
And I made a bride
We grew a flower in the desert
We grew terrified
We were one, not one and the same
Something was lost somehow
And if you think you knew me then
You don't know me now
The planets high above you
Spun in houses of their own
You were dropped and hit the ground running
But they failed to lead you home
And if you think you knew me then
Do you know me now?
I drew a child inside a womb
Justified myself
I stole the face of joy, the perfume of wealth
I atomised the boy within before he cut himself
You found the blood upon my clothes
And you washed it out
And if you think you knew me then
You don't know me now
There were children in the classroom
Erected without a nail
There were hornets in the heads of cattle
That vibrated to the sound
You cried wolf
I tracked one down and let it in
There were lambs, sure there was blood
There were psalms to sing
You could just see the bone jut out
Penetrate the skin
Did it dispel beyond all doubt the mess we're in?
You raised your head
I stared you down
You still don't know how
And if you think you knew me then
You don't know me now
I was happy, satiated
I was satisfied
http://www.davidsylvian.com/
Monday, March 29, 2021
Sant Ambroeus at Brookfield Place
Sunday, March 28, 2021
"Twin Souls" by Lutrell
Saturday, March 27, 2021
Waterside Buddhist Shrine
Friday, March 26, 2021
BEAUTY: Clothing--Rick Owens
GETHSEMANE WAS THE GARDEN JESUS PRAYED IN THE NIGHT BEFORE THE CRUCIFIXION; A PLACE OF UNEASY REPOSE AND DISQUIET BEFORE A FINAL RECKONING. WE’VE ALL BEEN LIVING A TENSE PERIOD IN HISTORY WAITING FOR A RESOLUTION, BE IT CATASTROPHIC OR RATIONAL, IN A SUSPENSE THAT FEELS ALMOST BIBLICAL IN ITS DRAMA.
MY GARDEN IS THE BEACH IN FRONT OF MY HOME ON VENICE’S LIDO. MY PANDEMIC RUNWAY SHOWS HAVE ALL BEEN ON THE LIDO — A 2-HOUR DRIVE FROM MY FACTORY IN CONCORDIA AND A SMALLER FOOTPRINT, PARED-DOWN, NO AUDIENCE, HOME-BASED MOOD THAT FEELS SUITABLE FOR THE MOMENT. THIS REDUCTION IN IMPORTED HAIR AND MAKEUP AND PRODUCTION ARMIES HAS ALLOWED THESE SHOWS TO TURN INTO PRIVATE CEREMONIES SHARED BY OUR SMALL CONCORDIA TEAM FROM CONCEPTION TO CLIMAX, ALLOWING US TO CONNECT IN A WHOLE NEW WAY AFTER 15 YEARS OF PARIS SHOWS.
SKIN-TIGHT LEATHER BODYSUITS UNDERPIN MOST LOOKS, SOME WITH THE TOP PULLED DOWN TO HANG OFF THE HIPS. SOME ARE SOLIDLY SEQUINED. I’VE BEEN FEATURING BODYSUITS FOR SOME SEASONS NOW, ORIGINALLY AS MONUMENTALLY IMPOSING STIFF VOLUMES BUT GRADUALLY REDUCING TO THEIR CURRENT INCARNATION — SELF-CONTAINED AND SEALED BODY COVERINGS LIKE AN UPHOLSTERED GEAR SHIFT KNOB.
THESE ARE TOPPED BY POWER SHOULDER CAPES THAT TURN THE BODY INTO ARCHITECTURAL BULLDOZERS, OR POWER SHOULDER BOMBERS MOCKING MALE AGGRESSION AND CONSERVATISM CAREENING OFF THE RAILS THAT WAS THE FOCUS OF MY MEN’S SHOW IN JANUARY — COINCIDING WITH THE SHOCKING EVENTS IN WASHINGTON.
THESE SHOULDERS ARE A RESPONSE TO FEAR AND ANXIETY; DEFIANCE IN THE FACE OF THREAT. I HAVE SHOWN MASKS WITH THESE PANDEMIC SHOWS NOT BECAUSE MY MASKS ARE GUARANTEED PROTECTION, BUT BECAUSE THEY ARE A VOTE FOR RESPONSIBILITY AND CONSIDERATION AND AN ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF OUR IMMEDIATE COLLECTIVE EXPERIENCE.
TAILORED JKTS MADE FROM RECYCLED PLASTIC WASTE ARE CROPPED WITH THE SLEEVES RIPPED OFF AND REPLACED WITH JUMBO DUVET SNAP-ON SLEEVES.
IN THE BIBLE, THE RENDING OF ONES GARMENTS IS AN ACT OF GRIEF OR RAGE — TO VIOLENTLY TEAR THE CLOTHES ONE IS WEARING APART. THIS IS THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE SLASHED BLACK DENIM PIECES IN THE COLLECTION, MIRRORED IN THE SLASHED GRAPHICS RENDERED IN BY- PRODUCT SHEARLINGS AND COWHIDES PATCHWORKED INTO COATS AND JACKETS.
NARROW BACKLESS LONG-SLEEVED SHEATH GOWNS ARE CUT IN HEAVY VISCOSE KNIT, SEQUINS, OR BLACK OVERDYED DENIM. LIKE THE BODYSUITS, THEIR TOPS ARE OFTEN PULLED DOWN TO HANG OFF THE HIPS AND WORN WITH A T-SHIRT.
RUCHED AND SEQUINED THONGS ARE WORN OVER RECYCLED CASHMERE BODYSUITS TO ADD A LURID FLOURISH TO MATTER-OF-FACT AND PRACTICAL MODESTY. THESE RECYCLED CASHMERE YARNS ARE ALSO KNIT INTO HEAVY SWEATERS, PULLED UP TO DOUBLE ON THE TORSO, AND ROOMY BLANKET-SIZED HOODED ROBES. BIBLICAL. THESE HOODED ROBES ARE REPEATED IN TENT-SIZED DUVET OR SEQUIN ENCRUSTED DENIM.
THE PENTA-BRIEFS FROM THE LAST MEN’S SHOW THAT SPOKE OF UNHINGED MALE AGGRESSION ARE WRAPPED AROUND SIMPLE COWHIDE ENVELOPES TO BE WORN AS A WOMAN’S EVENING CLUTCH.
HEAVY WORK SHIRTS WORN OVER GOWNS COME IN 16OZ BLACK WARP/BLACK WEFT/BLACK SELVEDGE DENIM CUSTOM WOVEN FOR US BY YAMAASHI ORIMONO (EST. 1945) ON VINTAGE SAKAMOTO SHUTTLE LOOMS. THIS IS FROM AN ONGOING DRKSHDW CAPSULE MADE IN JAPAN.
SOUNDTRACK IS AN EXCLUSIVE EXTENDED REMIX OF ‘SQUEEZE’ BY GHOSTEMANE, WHO ALSO SOUNDTRACKED OUR LAST MEN’S SHOW THAT SPOKE ABOUT MALE SUPPRESSED RAGE ON EVERY SIDE OF THE MORAL DIVIDE... BUT OF COURSE, SUPPRESSED RAGE IS NOT EXCLUSIVELY MALE.
Thursday, March 25, 2021
"Blue Moves" by Elton John
Wednesday, March 24, 2021
"You Learn" by Alanis Morissette and Elizabeth Stanley
This duet between Morissette and Elizabeth Stanley (star of "Jagged Little Pill," Morissette's Broadway adaptation of her album) revisits this lovely, tender, wise song. Morissette still sounds marvelous and powerful, and Stanley's voice is spectacular.
I recommend getting your heart trampled on to anyone (yeah)
I recommend walking around naked in your living room (yeah)
Swallow it down (what a jagged little pill)
It feels so good (swimming in your stomach)
Wait until the dust settles
You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn
You bleed you learn
You scream you learn
I recommend biting off more then you can chew to anyone
(I certainly do)
I recommend sticking your foot in your mouth at any time
(feel free)
Throw it down (the caution blocks you from the wind)
Hold it up (to the rays)
You wait and see when the smoke clears
You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn
You bleed you learn
You scream you learn
Wear it out (the way a three-year-old would do)
Melt it down (you're gonna have to eventually anyway)
The fire trucks are coming up around the bend
You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn
You bleed you learn
You scream you learn
You grieve you learn
You choke you learn
You laugh you learn
You choose you learn
You pray you learn
You ask you learn
You live you learn
And I am thrilled that Morissette threw in the chorus from another of her stunningly mature songs, "Thank U," from her follow up album "Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie" in 1998. She wrote the song after a trip to India. Morissette said, "Basically, I had never stopped in my whole life, hadn't taken a long breath, and I took a year and a half off and basically learned how to do that. When I did stop and I was silent and I breathed... I was just left with an immense amount of gratitude, and inspiration, and love, and bliss, and that's where the song came from, you know." Take a look at the video which is a literal manifestation of baring one's soul to the world. The visuals (people emerging out of the blur of daily life to stop, touch her, and look into her eyes, to make a genuine connection) and metaphysical sense of the video move me to tears. There's a lot of enormity in these four minutes and nineteen seconds.
How 'bout getting off of these antibiotics?
How 'bout stopping eating when I'm full up?
How 'bout them transparent dangling carrots?
How 'bout that ever elusive kudo?
Thank you India
Thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty
Thank you consequence
Thank you thank you silence
How 'bout me not blaming you for everything?
How 'bout me enjoying the moment for once?
How 'bout how good it feels to finally forgive you?
How 'bout grieving it all one at a time?
Thank you India
Thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty
Thank you consequence
Thank you thank you silence
The moment I let go of it was the moment
I got more than I could handle
The moment I jumped off of it
Was the moment I touched down
How 'bout no longer being masochistic?
How 'bout remembering your divinity?
How 'bout unabashedly bawling your eyes out?
How 'bout not equating death with stopping?
Thank you India
Thank you providence
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you nothingness
Thank you clarity
Thank you, thank you silence
https://alanis.com/
And the Broadway show of "Jagged Little Pill" has garnered 15 Tony awards!
https://jaggedlittlepill.com/
Tuesday, March 23, 2021
Just watched...
Shot in a glorious, rich grey-range palette of black and white, David Fincher's film starring Gary Oldman as screenwriter Herman J. Mankiewicz is a--well, not a love letter to Hollywood as Hollywood is fond of dubbing films that look back at its own history, and not really a bitter poison pen letter, but more of an examination of Old (and who knows, probably Current) Hollywood with all of its treachery, manipulative moguls, infighting, and influence of the political landscape.
We follow screenwriter Mankiewicz (Mank as he likes to be called) as he writes the screenplay for Orson Welles' legendary film "Citizen Kane." Holed up at the North Verde Ranch near the Mojave Desert, kept away from his beloved alcohol by a secretary and nurse, he toils away creating something that would forever change the film world and the way directors and cinematographers make films. We often jump back in time to fill in gaps of the story, much the way "Citizen Kane" does. And that is not the only nod to that classic: much of the framing, lighting, and camera work is a breathtaking homage to some of the deep focus work of "Kane" cinematographer Gregg Toland.
Gary Oldman is brilliant as Mank, with a stunning, casual way of dropping drunken wit in a vocal delivery pitch prefect for the period. Charles Dance is perfection as William Randolph Hearst, and Arliss Howard is beautifully weaselly as studio head Louis B. Mayer. But it's the women--Amanda Seyfried as Hearst's wife Marion Davies, Lily Collins as Rita Alexander, Herman's secretary, and Tuppence Middleton as Mank's wife Sara Mankiewicz--who shine despite the fact that their characters are not developed and their roles are smaller. But what's new, right? Well, it is Mank's story after all. Maybe someday someone will make a film from Marion or Sara's points of view. But until then, we have this brilliant slice of Hollywood history, even though it tells the story of the "Kane" script from a rather one-sided view, supporting film journalist Pauline Kael's assertion that Welles did not deserve any writing credit. While the real-life process of writing the script was laborious and a little fraught, it seems all parties contributed (unlike what we see in this film), despite Mank threatening to go to the Screen Writer's Guild to file for credit. Turns out there was no need as Welles happily gave him first billing on that title card.
Recommend? YES! Gorgeous to watch (take a peek at the trailer below) and superb performances!
https://www.netflix.com/title/81117189
Monday, March 22, 2021
Why you can't compare Covid-19 vaccines: What a vaccine's "efficacy rate" actually means
Sunday, March 21, 2021
Just watched...
Regular readers know I am a SAG member and it is award season which means that I get a slew of "For Your Consideration" films in my mail box, with nary enough time to watch them all. But I made a point of starting my award season viewing with this film, "The Father."
And regular readers also know that when I write about a film I have seen or a book I have read, I don't like to give any spoilers. I believe that such pieces of art should be experienced how the artist (screenwriter, director, author, actor) intended it to be. The story, whether filmed or written, unfolds as it does for a reason. Information comes when it should, and the narrative happens to recreate an idea or emotion in us, the audience. But I simply can't write anything about "The Father" without spoilers. So if you have not seen the film yet, and you wish to, please do not read on.
The film in its whole is astonishing. In all aspects. But if we break it down, the foundation is clearly the miraculous script. Not only is the writing stellar, but it is the structure of the script that is, dare I say it, revolutionary. As you probably know, the story is about a daughter dealing with the challenge of her ageing father's progressing dementia. But instead of placing our point of view with the daughter, or even an objective, remote point of view, we are placed inside the father...completely subjectively seeing and experiencing the events of the story. And this is the astonishing part of the film: we are allowed to feel the confusion, the fear of, and anger at the shifting, surreal, dreamlike world around us. The father's view point is our solid starting point and all we can do, like him, is watch with suspicion and confusion as people and locations change around us without any explanation.
It's easy to watch someone suffer from dementia (I say that from the point of view of a film of course...I know it is not easy at all to watch a loved one suffer from dementia), from the outside. We can look at the petulant behavior, the stubbornness, the outbursts, and think that, on some level, they are simply acting childish, or perhaps even spiteful. But this film allows us to see that, of course, one would think one is being tricked, duped, cheated...to have someone stand in front of you and claim they are your daughter or son or wife or husband when you know for a fact they are not is disorienting. I can see how someone with dementia could be driven to a rage with such perceived, unexplained treachery.
And because of this, we feel this betrayal, confusion, anger, and eventually sadness at not being able to control all the lies being told. The script shows this story in a not-quite-linear progression: we begin in the father's flat, but after he drives away anyone who is hired by his daughter to care for him, he is moved to his daughter's flat. But in a stroke of genius on the part of the filmmakers (Florian Zeller directed this film adaptation, co-written by Sir Christopher Hampton, from his original stage play), the daughter's flat is laid out exactly like the father's, a doppelgänger, a replica, only with a few small changes: the furniture is slightly different, the wall colors are different. In some scenes, the contents of the flat are packed up and ready to move. But then, confusingly, we return to the father's or daughter's flat. We are introduced to a man who may or not be the daughter's current or ex-husband, and another man who may or may not be the daughter's current love interest with whom his daughter may or may not be moving to Paris. Locations and faces and identities shift until we end up, heartbreakingly, at a place where the father is disconnected and broken.
And none of this would pack the emotional and psychogenic punch it does without the mastery and breathtaking skill of Sir Anthony Hopkins who never plays the situation, and Olivia Colman who plays the emotional tightrope walk of living with so much instability. It is an extraordinary film.
Recommend? Absolutely.