|Choosing between two live bands, a movie and a cozy evening at home (with my old trusted friend, the cold), I picked Bombee+. Actually, I had an invitation from Tom, a guy I had met three weeks ago at the exact same place, who was organizing the thing. But I mixed up dates, so bumping into him there caught me by surprise. |
Anyway -- somehow the weather (more on that later) or lack of publicity had thinned the crowds considerably. That was rather cruel to the band, them being on the last leg of their tour. In the end, the audience just outnumbered band members and organizers. Accordingly, the concert was quite cozy and very nice all in all. One guy with a guitar, one with a cajón and a singer; lovely chord progressions and great understated vocals. Go see them! (they will be touring again in autumn this year.)
On the way back, I got into a blizzard and missed the opportunity to have my photograph taken as The Abominable Snowman by four giggling girls obviously delighted by the snow even more than myself. Pity.
|Imagine you're Thomas Bangalter, quite successful musician with a group called Daft Punk (and not bad at all, I should say). Now you want to make a movie. You order 200 back issues of American Cinematographer. You read through all of them. You piece together some kind of story that may be good for a short film of, say, 5 minutes. Actually, more like a music video. Quite a boring music video at that, because the music is too long for the story you have to tell, so scenes repeat -- there are lots of music videos like that, so well.|
But you want to make a proper feature film, good for one evening. No problem, because you just learned -- from American Cinematographer -- all interesting camera angles anybody has ever shot. And you wanted to shoot all of them anyway, because they're just so cool. So you lengthen every scene so you can shoot them from lots of different directions. You also add some boring scenes that are not important at all for the story, but may be wedged into the film without being completely out of place: Boy dropping ice cream cone, happy couple just married standing outside the church and so on. Take care to shoot them in the most stereotypical way possible. Use gratitious slo-mo. Also, dispose with any dialogue, because cool people don't speak much, like in cowboy films. Or maybe you think you're Tarkowskij, and there's an awful lot of silence there as well, isn't it? Or maybe you're just used to music videos.
Behold: Electroma, the first time I ever whished I could sleep during films. I can't in general, and also the projector was too loud.
Before that one, I saw The Criminal Life of Archibaldo de la Cruz. Quite amusing and surprising in that it has a real story and only few surreal elements. But nothing spectacular. Maybe I should have studied Art History to catch all the symbolism, but whatever.
Other boredoms in my recent past (not those): Singing an early Renaissance passion piece telling the whole friggin' passion of John without any Arias, Chorals and only very few interesting harmonic changes. Standing on a movie set waiting for something. Like: Actors rehearsing. Rain stopping. Passers-by passing.
The movie shoot was quite a blast anyway. And in addition to the Daser desaster, we had Rihm. And fresh trout afterwards. And pear cake. Yay!
|||Last week, I finished reading Paul Auster's 'The Book Of Illusions'. A central motif of the book is the burning of films (as in movies), which is ironic, because a team in my group at work is working on exactly the opposite, the preservation and archival of films. So I had some exposure (no pun intended) to the way film decays, which types of films were used in which period and which burn easily and which don't. But that's not my point. The book also cites the autobiography of Luis Buñuel, in which he talks about burning his notorious 'Un Chien Andalou' (he didn't burn it after all). Anyway -- this sparked my interest in his work, and I nearly bought a boxed set of his movies on the spot, but also thought "Hey, what if my favorite local cinema did a retrospective on Buñuel"? Well -- it's starting next Friday.|
|||On the same night I finished The Book Of Illusions, I posted a yellow sticky with the words 'You don't want to know' on my wall. Why? You really don't want to know. And I don't either, because I have no idea. It just came into my head. Later that day, I had a conversation with a friend. Somehow, we ended up talking about knowing and not knowing. For some reason, the phrase "It's ok not to know" (or words to that effect) feature in Pushing The Daisies (the TV show). He then proceeded sending me a photograph of his girlfriend holding a book into the camera with exactly that phrase.|
|||On the recommendation of a friend, I picked up a book by Jonathan Franzen recently. It lay unread for a few weeks. I then took it on a train ride where I started reading it. Arriving at my destination, I got an e-mail by a different friend (who currently is in India, and who got me into the whole Paul Auster situation), in which he stated that he just read a book by a certain north-american author whose name is starting with an F.|