I like this, sans irony. It's the little things that make living in strange places worth it, example: pop mutations. Ephemeral amalgamations of junk culture speak fascinating langauges. Want to say more, but 1) Pico Iyer exploded that niche decades ago, with some really great books and 2) just watching is almost enough to intuit what I want to write but do not feel like doing right now because I am actually pretty hungry and also need to do quasi-real work and then run to the...1
1. Lest I generalize the audience, Rambo is a transnational/transgender/transgeneracional brand. So is Mexico.
...shot between two decaying apartment buildings, when the snow had first melt and migrant workers from the East were beginning their move into urban construction areas.
Wherein I add text from random bits of media that I am currently consuming to images that I am working on:
"...an old told tale... another version... a little girl went out to play... lost in the market place... as if half born... then, not through the market place, but through the alley, behind the market place... this is the way to the past. But it isn't something you remember. Forgetfulness..."
--------- IMAGE: Industrial alleyway, by fucoid TEXT: from Inland Empire, by David Lynch
It has been ages since I last posted here. Decided to start back again, so without further ado...
Was sifting through some remnants from my time in Ukraine and ran across these, shot from the hip in a dilapidated playground, city center on a weekday afternoon:
------- The photographer is an armed version of the solitary walker reconnoitering, stalking, cruising the urban inferno, the voyeuristic stroller who discovers the city as a landscape of voluptuous extremes. Adept of the joys of watching, connoisseur of empathy, the flâneur finds the world 'picturesque.'
-Susan Sontag, on how the camera has become the tool of the flâneur
To my lost friend Hicham, from Casablanca: Why did you not have this dude in your beat down tape collection? Those late night journeys in Tampa would have been that much crazier:
I added this one to the collection today. It is from a Kiev school of folk painters; they used funky curve-linear lines, explosive colors and floral patterns vs. the stolid aesthetics of traditional Orthodox iconography.
...currently researching patterns of fungi ingestion in the region.
I am into Eugene Hutz and his music. His life story is the stuff of movies. From the Chernobyl evacuation and gypsy wanderings to his performances at Tate Modern, Whitney and the Venice Biennial. What shitty, marginalized band doesn't look up to him? And the music... so rich.
Last week, Gogol Bordello was in Lviv... Hutz tossed frisbees, broke a few mic stands and spoke Ukrainian to his fans from the homeland. The sets were inspired and it was a great show. From various U-tubers:
Another regional cinematic obscurity, Russian-born Wladyslaw Starewicz: etymologist-filmmaker and stop motion pioneer.
Yes, bug vs. camera... something had to give for this guy. And his method of animation was pragmatic genius. Stymied by an inability to control his shelled subjects, eureka was found in the form of stop-motioned dead. He in fact removed the limbs of grasshoppers, beetles, dragonflies and the like and then supplemented them with wax prosthetics, which were manipulated between takes. The results were singular, effective and influential (if not more than a little creepy).
"The Cameraman's Revenge" (1912, 13 minutes) is his first short with a narrative. And it is as cynical as you would expect when having dead bugs as the players:
"It is about infidelity among the insects, a topic which dare I say has never before or after been attempted on film.
It opens with Mr. Beetle going to town "on business," to stop at "The Gay Dragonfly," a burlesque parlor.
He meets a dancer who he takes to a hotel room... the grasshopper at left wanted her too, though, and he is mad at the beetle's rudeness... he's also got a movie camera!"