tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23097116677836526462024-02-19T05:47:50.062-05:00FotofiliaLove affairs with photography+cinema+artFotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-55063000725991224812011-04-11T14:55:00.002-04:002011-04-11T17:43:33.368-04:00Ah, why did I ever pick up the golden feather of the Firebird?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><h3 align="left"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d9d2e9;">Excerpt from The Firebird and Princess Vasilisa (http://www.widesky.org/stories_poetry/fire.html)</span></span></span></span></h3><h3 align="left"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZEm-_q-0lXTP_sQWLmFU487h9sefDVxT_pQm9FWPiiEnWjzWqlaRc5cM5Doi0SdmC47Ljbp8Dt1GtFLxHoNG0vEaoPTrz2M6RLpbbkYbfmO7YmRFcF8LJlzsQb336NWC3l-PwLCElDc8/s1600/Oiseau-de-feu2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZEm-_q-0lXTP_sQWLmFU487h9sefDVxT_pQm9FWPiiEnWjzWqlaRc5cM5Doi0SdmC47Ljbp8Dt1GtFLxHoNG0vEaoPTrz2M6RLpbbkYbfmO7YmRFcF8LJlzsQb336NWC3l-PwLCElDc8/s320/Oiseau-de-feu2.jpg" width="223" /></a></div><h3 align="left" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d9d2e9;">One day the huntsman went on his valiant horse to hunt in the woods. He rode and rode along the broad path, and suddenly he came upon a golden feather of the Firebird; it shone bright as a flame! The valiant horse said to him: "Take not the golden feather; if you take it, you will know trouble!"</span></span></span></span></span></h3></span></span></span></h3>Karsavina in L'Oiseau de Feu<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikxS7HfrVprkYQTkbnYDuXfgf95-PNhNXUQ0ZBtG9HAx-iXUmRNeJO4XsCuAzZQqC5f6rzS7pECv8NPy5oaVdvGiWtQ44KPedtt3NLI08jgQPOKb__zskBTmQAkXU-7ateu2V7TpHLPJo/s1600/159575738.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikxS7HfrVprkYQTkbnYDuXfgf95-PNhNXUQ0ZBtG9HAx-iXUmRNeJO4XsCuAzZQqC5f6rzS7pECv8NPy5oaVdvGiWtQ44KPedtt3NLI08jgQPOKb__zskBTmQAkXU-7ateu2V7TpHLPJo/s320/159575738.jpg" width="215" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPCrjU7lFh8bqDb0ifqGOWUx3ezq_gz5A6YE7-ZUCJ4z0df3VISIl2l1LLugjtVW1tSerOmv2h2eXZjL6dD8fiQ2NJBMvz-yWvR0eKQvFB8y0gvkWqCL5tP5tNclNvLfJzxLF3vfXwvdo/s1600/karsav06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPCrjU7lFh8bqDb0ifqGOWUx3ezq_gz5A6YE7-ZUCJ4z0df3VISIl2l1LLugjtVW1tSerOmv2h2eXZjL6dD8fiQ2NJBMvz-yWvR0eKQvFB8y0gvkWqCL5tP5tNclNvLfJzxLF3vfXwvdo/s320/karsav06.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><br />
<h3 align="left"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><br />
</span></span></h3>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-75248289160369409532011-02-26T13:30:00.001-05:002011-04-11T18:15:12.828-04:00A beautiful, yet unfinished symphony.<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/fHB4HkuSXbo" title="YouTube video player" width="480"></iframe><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinYtTBxFD97O5pDi1CtoynDmxS-syVZ_XfaV9-fo6CeuilWfXontiq30HdVCEhRA-rnSblE9YqEhsCAiPJKBJcplupssu4PbljfuLboS598RMsBU5LnEjaZ-YJT6P7cSFcfuxDkiK8Cr8/s1600/P8270081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinYtTBxFD97O5pDi1CtoynDmxS-syVZ_XfaV9-fo6CeuilWfXontiq30HdVCEhRA-rnSblE9YqEhsCAiPJKBJcplupssu4PbljfuLboS598RMsBU5LnEjaZ-YJT6P7cSFcfuxDkiK8Cr8/s320/P8270081.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/tNxkyzXJeBI" title="YouTube video player" width="480"></iframe>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-80043166710886677442011-02-25T11:39:00.001-05:002011-04-11T18:13:32.345-04:00Beauty in the Beast<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There are several famous dualisms that have inspired the arts for centuries - the good over evil, love over death and ofcourse, beauty and the beast. What is beautiful is good, though its goodness is often threatened by the ugliness of evil. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2X_2xP1PYlNh3iSxGk5bPqKRn3AoPud_FjZgNKQ1hZML9Kd08m10gSwlJiTpH2YZDNN40Fmz0YPAYAd-6g3fELwDogVOPpMYar4hmP3HpiNkfiDeihLUFAQ0mciZMbdQQhz-uWgMUzJU/s1600/Pieter-Paul-Rubens%252C-Susanna-and-the-Elders%252C-1607-08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2X_2xP1PYlNh3iSxGk5bPqKRn3AoPud_FjZgNKQ1hZML9Kd08m10gSwlJiTpH2YZDNN40Fmz0YPAYAd-6g3fELwDogVOPpMYar4hmP3HpiNkfiDeihLUFAQ0mciZMbdQQhz-uWgMUzJU/s320/Pieter-Paul-Rubens%252C-Susanna-and-the-Elders%252C-1607-08.jpg" width="224" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Peter-Paul Rubens, Susanna and the Elders, 17th c. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Yet the contrast between the beautiful and ugly is not nearly as thrilling as the moment in which they clash into a singular form. Oscar Wilde was aware of this fine line when he penned his only novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, realising the role of art in creating this duality. Dorian Gray's portrait grows ugly as he retains his beauty but loses his soul.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"There were moments when he looked on evil simply as a mode through which he could realise his conception of the beautiful"</span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Oscar Wilde, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The Picture of Dorian Gray</span></i></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I find one image that perfectly capture this incongruous moment. The swan. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6PtiwzkBxsZ6RiNYlaAEIkqc8jIcKVd6ieix72l1oY9-cE7inMiW9DY0yPR9pDHr-yhEVWSUJUIHPJYj_A6iUGeP-3z7-jqz2COnoKx3n5OQzseAdlj38GViEJrb-fjeHzT9ssZOgKI/s1600/Ed%2527sBlog.08.TwoSwans.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6PtiwzkBxsZ6RiNYlaAEIkqc8jIcKVd6ieix72l1oY9-cE7inMiW9DY0yPR9pDHr-yhEVWSUJUIHPJYj_A6iUGeP-3z7-jqz2COnoKx3n5OQzseAdlj38GViEJrb-fjeHzT9ssZOgKI/s320/Ed%2527sBlog.08.TwoSwans.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Photo by Ed Buziak</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A swan is an unparalleled symbol of the ugliness, violence and cruelty of beauty. We are blind to beauty's ugly origins, its shallow unfeeling nature and to its cruel behavior. We do not see the beast in the beauty just as we do not see the sinews and deformities of a ballerina's body, yet without the other, neither would exist. Therein lies the art.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1uJ16fUhGzU9yJ4ZQtQlCv9LVQqA8eWD_-6T3FMvLYz78SSdOe6QGf1Bl-4KoQVXPxHLTVJcZ5krh9__s7h5AA6rXl9A_ntBF2tRYfsjChDBFvjFI4c_ioeuxPOObKnZtS0qjDGvnjf0/s1600/swan.lake.ballet.macor.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1uJ16fUhGzU9yJ4ZQtQlCv9LVQqA8eWD_-6T3FMvLYz78SSdOe6QGf1Bl-4KoQVXPxHLTVJcZ5krh9__s7h5AA6rXl9A_ntBF2tRYfsjChDBFvjFI4c_ioeuxPOObKnZtS0qjDGvnjf0/s320/swan.lake.ballet.macor.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Photo by Michael Macor<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/6q7txqIS-N4" title="YouTube video player" width="480"></iframe><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Photo by Michael Macor<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/OQtmFglneko" title="YouTube video player" width="480"></iframe>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-68515386162318020632011-02-13T21:29:00.002-05:002011-04-11T18:18:58.000-04:00Love: the vain, the warm, the doomed and the accidentalHappy Valentine's Day - a day to contemplate the many guises of love and its' fleeting yet enduring nature.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTxnmUAZptSC7_4XClKHk9l2oG7hiqOUL6up46tjf-J9GYJIjf9HCA4Y2OjXD00pQrejEJ6lHM-bBB-PqN5K2lk8APXrzunwvnSAwfkWAvvx67JjEBV9_ydw7A2_SQmOonRjvch6hZTPA/s1600/brassai.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTxnmUAZptSC7_4XClKHk9l2oG7hiqOUL6up46tjf-J9GYJIjf9HCA4Y2OjXD00pQrejEJ6lHM-bBB-PqN5K2lk8APXrzunwvnSAwfkWAvvx67JjEBV9_ydw7A2_SQmOonRjvch6hZTPA/s320/brassai.jpg" width="253" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brassai</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVOIKNrQMlEOJRwe7lFgGERDe4XV4hefwgrAmDPIju9UpuIrojKRJy4oSyJU0gjJ1fbkLyh7JsucQGDPuTSLJitaxJHQDwdZmxDrrNdnqjdH7yzo0MoSThyphenhyphenXm5fMMo9dKf-sKhNX0OVBo/s1600/DSC_0936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVOIKNrQMlEOJRwe7lFgGERDe4XV4hefwgrAmDPIju9UpuIrojKRJy4oSyJU0gjJ1fbkLyh7JsucQGDPuTSLJitaxJHQDwdZmxDrrNdnqjdH7yzo0MoSThyphenhyphenXm5fMMo9dKf-sKhNX0OVBo/s320/DSC_0936.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Siena, Italy (c) Fotofilia</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI4xR07PB3Iy_nuBzKA0tjza2dbAdfI-i1fBaxWyHgHPYuRK7rR-eBmL5U4VSzODkIZ0cuNQ3i5wwRoYx_TpA-FyPfXpyYe72DsQpoB2IfFK_SopMwkxoxwxiNFcTTIO06S_dxSJatP9c/s1600/moodforlove_jpg_595x325_crop_upscale_q85.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="174" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI4xR07PB3Iy_nuBzKA0tjza2dbAdfI-i1fBaxWyHgHPYuRK7rR-eBmL5U4VSzODkIZ0cuNQ3i5wwRoYx_TpA-FyPfXpyYe72DsQpoB2IfFK_SopMwkxoxwxiNFcTTIO06S_dxSJatP9c/s320/moodforlove_jpg_595x325_crop_upscale_q85.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the Mood for Love, Wong Kar Wai</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvotRaUGiLORETTF9e3jx8CAQU46AWWUfZnp3W2NPz-d95t-GO3b_bhwPg5-3wMRyu33_SaIGtYHzT4BtINcQkM0yOlzDPbDgwcJWBfDftF6949aYTLUa09hiNXD065XujNtmgm0MqXA/s1600/DSC_2540.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvotRaUGiLORETTF9e3jx8CAQU46AWWUfZnp3W2NPz-d95t-GO3b_bhwPg5-3wMRyu33_SaIGtYHzT4BtINcQkM0yOlzDPbDgwcJWBfDftF6949aYTLUa09hiNXD065XujNtmgm0MqXA/s320/DSC_2540.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oxford, England (c) Fotofilia</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/pisIqsHwbTY" title="YouTube video player" width="480"></iframe>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-43723989138027275852010-12-24T11:53:00.001-05:002011-04-12T01:17:52.450-04:00La Notte<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG3zVwA75hLqT_qgTp-vRbUEf18YJPloPMVqYrfEw_Ckyb-Xh1vgRoJslU9sOfq38GTpNAI6nq5Q-27mU8Qm_pViFED8guUMTtGIl02fLos1CWLPSpswLwNIY1Cdq_3RxMsC20hfYRlL0/s1600/Recently+Updated.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG3zVwA75hLqT_qgTp-vRbUEf18YJPloPMVqYrfEw_Ckyb-Xh1vgRoJslU9sOfq38GTpNAI6nq5Q-27mU8Qm_pViFED8guUMTtGIl02fLos1CWLPSpswLwNIY1Cdq_3RxMsC20hfYRlL0/s400/Recently+Updated.jpg" width="285" /></a></div><br />
Firenze, Italia <br />
<div>December 2010</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: CENTER;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img align="middle" alt="Posted by Picasa" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" style="-moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; border: 0px none; padding: 0px;" /></a></div>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-37857282067243572292010-12-13T22:03:00.000-05:002010-12-13T22:03:23.631-05:00A moment of quiet.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEHLEB55AYhb87GvDhUWr9LHp9DmtYbU5dDhv-E2S56fVwcv33WXEUWxGytUeHWUyvzlU9mNrcEXvA1n1JCIy73rH7mwrHW_p7gINWEyvi1sdGQKr60Ke1P-FYyyNRGreJW7hYm4pt8ms/s1600/DSC_2273.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEHLEB55AYhb87GvDhUWr9LHp9DmtYbU5dDhv-E2S56fVwcv33WXEUWxGytUeHWUyvzlU9mNrcEXvA1n1JCIy73rH7mwrHW_p7gINWEyvi1sdGQKr60Ke1P-FYyyNRGreJW7hYm4pt8ms/s320/DSC_2273.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1VqjQxLCE_RTn_g0edp2pHTUDXPB7OVVpPv-47HmSAUH2obXb6umhiYa-w4S7aUl7d2_Q8WF6OpmY-wsa_SeC6TpGFECj-r4bkpnB8Q_ASXKzfwpfX-YE-O03MiczL4oWq563yQPJhto/s1600/DSC_0528.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1VqjQxLCE_RTn_g0edp2pHTUDXPB7OVVpPv-47HmSAUH2obXb6umhiYa-w4S7aUl7d2_Q8WF6OpmY-wsa_SeC6TpGFECj-r4bkpnB8Q_ASXKzfwpfX-YE-O03MiczL4oWq563yQPJhto/s320/DSC_0528.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>© FotofiliaFotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-12352646029950922172010-11-26T18:47:00.000-05:002010-11-26T18:47:52.950-05:00The Girl on the Bridge<iframe width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/WxCSQY4zskg?fs=1" frameborder="0"></iframe>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-71233925424259694602010-11-21T19:17:00.000-05:002010-11-21T19:17:44.506-05:00Something Blue.A little tribute for a colour that has more meaning than a thousand words...<br />
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<object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rbMO5fkFKLA?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rbMO5fkFKLA?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-29818590723255099242010-09-18T09:41:00.001-04:002010-12-13T22:07:22.321-05:00Istanbul Noir: Byzantine mysteries in shadow and light<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja2MMVN81P7oZJBJHDY_VUlSmKqggEgZ8mBXD7uGVkoUajBDlvo6iGIiNtl8aU1xX7OEq4z-W0fLW65kzC9SNdg-vuMgu4Ay9gvMx5o0XD4VOHhCW2WxgXhtW-lRsoBwuKkcYS995UkA4/s1600/DSC_0351.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja2MMVN81P7oZJBJHDY_VUlSmKqggEgZ8mBXD7uGVkoUajBDlvo6iGIiNtl8aU1xX7OEq4z-W0fLW65kzC9SNdg-vuMgu4Ay9gvMx5o0XD4VOHhCW2WxgXhtW-lRsoBwuKkcYS995UkA4/s320/DSC_0351.JPG" /></a><br />
<br />
Aya Sofia<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheoGqYELndi5RZ0OKRXny9OJxs2tUTZdbUiX4p4CtCz6pjsWm14Di_mv_nOZ5ZaMSBT_n6VuWAcypDIEIJflvd4BGsro11iQ9Erx48Y8uapydHu-67ogqSGzYg5uvXV76OyCqHM5ZTlGA/s1600/DSC_0219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheoGqYELndi5RZ0OKRXny9OJxs2tUTZdbUiX4p4CtCz6pjsWm14Di_mv_nOZ5ZaMSBT_n6VuWAcypDIEIJflvd4BGsro11iQ9Erx48Y8uapydHu-67ogqSGzYg5uvXV76OyCqHM5ZTlGA/s320/DSC_0219.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Underground Cistern Cafe - <a href="http://www.yerebatan.com/english/itarihce.html">Yerebatan Sarnici</a><br />
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<blockquote><i>Ship-wrecked figures on a raft, in complete darkness, with only the phosphorescence of the ocean waves breaking the ink-black of the pictures; in the distance, the fluctuating light of a lighthouse</i></blockquote><blockquote><i>The effect of passing auto headlights on the ceiling of a dark interior</i></blockquote><blockquote><i>Fluctuating neon or other electric signs</i></blockquote><blockquote><i>The light of a passing streetcar on an otherwise dark street</i></blockquote><blockquote><i>The hanging light on the ceiling of a cheap gambling joint</i></blockquote><blockquote><i>Searchlights of prisons or concentration camps</i></blockquote><blockquote><i>Flashes of guns in absolute darkness</i></blockquote><blockquote><i>The opening and closing of a refrigerator that has a light inside, in a dark kitchen</i></blockquote><blockquote><i>The well-known streetlamp. </i></blockquote><div style="text-align: right;">John Alton (1949) , <i>Painting with Light, </i>p 47-48 </div><br />
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</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRYuUFHJr8LcOFNSZ8qkSWPdzJr-Wl7A_NSEMXD-nPXbjBM62OzMvlUGDgRoeTIafvELCGVmAy51MDkkAj8Hv1s_n9gs3tpa3XlqmWOt8qd8yRH6heCx1K28eo_4O-8x2TvNFUvBY1gBU/s1600/DSC_0374.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRYuUFHJr8LcOFNSZ8qkSWPdzJr-Wl7A_NSEMXD-nPXbjBM62OzMvlUGDgRoeTIafvELCGVmAy51MDkkAj8Hv1s_n9gs3tpa3XlqmWOt8qd8yRH6heCx1K28eo_4O-8x2TvNFUvBY1gBU/s320/DSC_0374.jpg" /></a>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-16985380466760138632010-07-09T15:31:00.000-04:002010-07-09T15:31:25.675-04:00Si tu historia acabó bien, explícalo en el canal de amores. Si acabó mal, explícalo en perros<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV9naBvXBKt8FYqD3tDwyccWxJzy56XpPsuPU1rXWFb04uWiE1Luhse-l_ijWoTyHsCAHUa5Zigj5Nb0FRaoV1HoHILHzIdFUGr4ieDYxA-b2tompTT11NHik1223IVFwLT2Fen_V9RO8/s1600/2010-07-09.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV9naBvXBKt8FYqD3tDwyccWxJzy56XpPsuPU1rXWFb04uWiE1Luhse-l_ijWoTyHsCAHUa5Zigj5Nb0FRaoV1HoHILHzIdFUGr4ieDYxA-b2tompTT11NHik1223IVFwLT2Fen_V9RO8/s400/2010-07-09.jpg" /></a><br />
<div><br />
</div><div>- Amores Perros</div><div><br />
</div><div>Peru, May 2010</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: NONE;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img align="middle" alt="Posted by Picasa" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" style="-moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; border: 0px none; padding: 0px;" /></a></div>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-42117567723629959792010-05-17T22:06:00.000-04:002010-05-17T22:06:59.735-04:00The Night Swans<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivSKyllIF221MAbG1ate2oy_UEfgEV9a6szZnVQO1Sfd1zwzErfnUjbux_8o_VxvXlWN4Jrl4nMn7HzZIsnP814avTr4xE_tx9CIq8q_N4qwAfTdj0Utn0Jt-UkGrx323TWd14QW7Kn58/s1600/aug_sep+09+trip+067.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivSKyllIF221MAbG1ate2oy_UEfgEV9a6szZnVQO1Sfd1zwzErfnUjbux_8o_VxvXlWN4Jrl4nMn7HzZIsnP814avTr4xE_tx9CIq8q_N4qwAfTdj0Utn0Jt-UkGrx323TWd14QW7Kn58/s320/aug_sep+09+trip+067.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<span id="goog_538673522"></span><span id="goog_538673523"></span>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-60053037333854267492010-04-19T11:44:00.000-04:002010-04-19T11:44:51.285-04:00Peering into EyafallajökullLooking at the images of the volcanic eruption in Iceland, there is nothing like a a very real subglacial volcanic eruption to create the ultimate fantasy form photograph - 3D effects, high contrasts, and a massive, celestial scale. However the question arises, is this why are we so enthralled by these photos? There must be more at play. I think about it in relation to one observation that I've made for years now - most people (regardless of their skill or interest in photography) have a tangible desire to photograph sunsets when they see them- this is not simply out of an aesthetic appreciation of their color and composition but it is out of a wonderment that something so seemingly majestic and divine can occur naturally and often. It is in the real that we seek the unreal. In these photographs we face the thrilling fear of looking at the chasm between a divine and yet godless universe.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibNQ5sURoTpnbQB-eg79pFKXlj5WnZRm-Y9dW4YUt-HbLBbhDBVZBfGk0H0xBMB1V1k2KuUIGfoqTC-tJuTFW1v9qrVaDMhVvMsb4kfBQehVDUfStI4BKJXo5y2xmwPlhuStlYwTtawFs/s1600/ejafjalla16apr2010-mfulle4136j.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibNQ5sURoTpnbQB-eg79pFKXlj5WnZRm-Y9dW4YUt-HbLBbhDBVZBfGk0H0xBMB1V1k2KuUIGfoqTC-tJuTFW1v9qrVaDMhVvMsb4kfBQehVDUfStI4BKJXo5y2xmwPlhuStlYwTtawFs/s400/ejafjalla16apr2010-mfulle4136j.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Photo by Marco Fulle, taken from <br />
<a href="http://www.swisseduc.ch/stromboli/perm/iceland/eyafallajokull_20100416-en.html">http://www.swisseduc.ch/stromboli/perm/iceland/eyafallajokull_20100416-en.html</a>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-58550577039136696542010-03-28T18:33:00.000-04:002010-03-28T18:33:46.832-04:00What is this thing called photography? Miroslav Tichý answers.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5iXhJts7EZdCoun9aKLhWEqWF4a69lTmv2HlCjeAKnmCKSVtfYtWRoqAKVb2cg0u6wemt8bjNUGVYF9D0JMARjr_ohBX8vJNIfp-rRYTuPpvp0XlQxhyySAoJO7SsXttB5iz06dwfXj0/s1600/11360-Miroslav+Tichy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5iXhJts7EZdCoun9aKLhWEqWF4a69lTmv2HlCjeAKnmCKSVtfYtWRoqAKVb2cg0u6wemt8bjNUGVYF9D0JMARjr_ohBX8vJNIfp-rRYTuPpvp0XlQxhyySAoJO7SsXttB5iz06dwfXj0/s320/11360-Miroslav+Tichy.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Say that you are interested in photography and people immediately assume that you have a deep technical interest in the camera. They ask you about the equipment you use, the settings you prefer, the software you are indebted to and the printing style you employ. As a photography enthusiast I am deeply bored by such discussions - my general lack of interest in gadgets most certainly translates to cameras too. I simply see something I like and I photograph it. I hope for the best. My technical skill may be negligible but my aesthetic sense and curiosity often get me there. Seeing the current Miroslav Tichy</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; white-space: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> exhibition at the </span><a href="http://www.icp.org/site/c.dnJGKJNsFqG/b.5708951/k.9236/Miroslav_Tichy.htm"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">International Center of Photography</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> revealed for me the difference between photography as an artform rather than as a technology. For every bunch of photographers I see drooling over a new line of SLRs or comparing lens sizes, I am reminded of Tichy's makeshift cardboard cameras and their absurdly primitive technology. For every photographer I see painstakingly photoshopping the dust particles off their image, I see Tichy embracing the dirt, grime, bugs and visible signs of damage that characterize most of his photos. For every photographer that I hear bemoaning the focus mistakes in their shots, I see Tichy's fuzzy, blotchy and depthless images. For every crisp, perfectly framed and smiling portrait I see Tichy's cropped, voyeuristic shots of women's bodies. I love Tichy's work for the same reasons I love photography - the framing, the accidental effects, the element of chaos, and the capture of everyday life as a slice of utmost significance.</span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAI0l_EYiZtokj0iDU8AKEtkANbAsqGiRHulsnoNZsv_9hpksyc_R6eiQIcohNBCVu7mACjDqY-7oWRPwiYW_ruk03uWTUOlyBj_fMJoiz8NJELuggvSvLR37CvdvLMaxY_cuUcplmWxU/s1600/img_news_20080117_m3_tichy9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAI0l_EYiZtokj0iDU8AKEtkANbAsqGiRHulsnoNZsv_9hpksyc_R6eiQIcohNBCVu7mACjDqY-7oWRPwiYW_ruk03uWTUOlyBj_fMJoiz8NJELuggvSvLR37CvdvLMaxY_cuUcplmWxU/s320/img_news_20080117_m3_tichy9.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7LVcQ663OLaFvgrZSHta_9hDCDHKdDjNKXBxvWKGH_LUWBzSD01TDw8_ltMMviqqaHlDlGYPFdLB3LN_hVAa401E2BoR6oB6-3ze_I1XkCEMKdp_vP7iZ7xiH6VTRkgcRDWSvA9ho8Zg/s1600/3.Miroslav+Tichy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7LVcQ663OLaFvgrZSHta_9hDCDHKdDjNKXBxvWKGH_LUWBzSD01TDw8_ltMMviqqaHlDlGYPFdLB3LN_hVAa401E2BoR6oB6-3ze_I1XkCEMKdp_vP7iZ7xiH6VTRkgcRDWSvA9ho8Zg/s320/3.Miroslav+Tichy.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW3Xk-ZBfHRwwSZ1cRzZa58EYoSmYIYlthhRIiRjrYtouAD8WZ7NQlCFKA6cpua7Nbp-IfgUbdHNoA8wA4uFb1wkBnv7IgXCPYR9aMgGsFIG2rm5vh6wpKSHZx9B2UIDNsneA5cdksRfc/s1600/miroslav-tichy-camera.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW3Xk-ZBfHRwwSZ1cRzZa58EYoSmYIYlthhRIiRjrYtouAD8WZ7NQlCFKA6cpua7Nbp-IfgUbdHNoA8wA4uFb1wkBnv7IgXCPYR9aMgGsFIG2rm5vh6wpKSHZx9B2UIDNsneA5cdksRfc/s320/miroslav-tichy-camera.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrQJEWa1jiyhb0EBhROyPMDOnTh6qCSWNCg6AY2bsM-V1GL1UvKb1mVFrN-A_NepjALkevoz5eOM3AFAB6vuGKk5NOuQAiE5w3AmPmYuuqrLS2hfkCap4Hy7s1RXBKxAkRKDr8QyER0M4/s1600/tichy-03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrQJEWa1jiyhb0EBhROyPMDOnTh6qCSWNCg6AY2bsM-V1GL1UvKb1mVFrN-A_NepjALkevoz5eOM3AFAB6vuGKk5NOuQAiE5w3AmPmYuuqrLS2hfkCap4Hy7s1RXBKxAkRKDr8QyER0M4/s320/tichy-03.jpg" /></a></div>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-46627982844976097732010-02-24T17:18:00.001-05:002010-02-24T17:21:50.667-05:00Tattoo Promises<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/auNY_3F2mmc&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/auNY_3F2mmc&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
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Eastern Promises (2007) is David Cronenberg's latest film, a sophisticated and shocking treatment of London-based Russian mafia. While generally received as an excellent film with a solid screenplay and direction, it is the deep symbolism that it delves into that takes into a level far above most of its crime-drama peers. In particular, Eastern Promises draws us into the world of the tattoo and the complex meaning it can have both a mark of stigma and pride. As one of the major sources for the development of this film, "Mark of Cain"(2000) documents the Russian tradition of tattoos that originate in jail, their relatively strict symbolism and their function as markers of an individual's criminal history, ethnicity and ofcourse identity. In one of the most memorable scenes of the film, Luzhin (played by Viggo Mortensen) is put under the filmic spotlight in which the tattoo inquisition 'reads' his history on his body. His incorporation into the Vory v Zakone must be the largest sacrifice - he must give himself wholly and in doing so receive the tattoo of the group on his chest and knees.<br />
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Ultimately the meaning of the tattoo is inextricably linked to Cronenberg's evolving concern with violence, whether it is ever truly justified but also whether it can ever really be erased from the individual or collective memory. In other words, it is the violent acts that we commit and we experience that remain permanently tattooed onto our psyche and write the history of who we are both as people and as nations. Similarly, the film in all its graphic excess actually features no gun violence - it is with the raping, injecting, stabbing and hacking of victims that Cronenberg creates that extremely intimate link between the victim and perpetrator of the violence - people inscribe their victims like the tattoo artist inscribes bodies.<br />
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Eastern Promises certainly has tattooed itself in my brain, and is one for the filmic canon....<br />
<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SIu0YWwX8aQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SIu0YWwX8aQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-77365569584897925412010-02-15T17:41:00.000-05:002010-02-15T17:41:11.262-05:00Eva, Wong Kar Wai, Galliano & the best perfume in the worldHere's one to dispel the myths! Art can definitely be found in advertising.... The stunning Eva starts in this WKW directed ditty for Midnight Poison: A New Cinderella is Born.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object height="340" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5lzfTW0z1HU&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5lzfTW0z1HU&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object></span>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-5384952740197707562010-02-10T18:07:00.001-05:002010-02-10T18:07:39.020-05:00A cool jazz journey to the gallowsA brief mention of the most incredible film-music collaborations of all time. Miles Davis' improvisations on Elevator to the Gallows (Ascenseur pour l'echafaud; Louis Malle, 1957) single handedly bring the unforgettable chilled cerebral loneliness of this classic new-wave film. His music somehow manages to be simultaneously intimate and distant, heartfelt and aloof - so much so that long after you have forgotten the plot, you will remember Jeanne Moreau's detached and desolate walk through the cold night lights of Paris. <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zDMfC0CjCSA&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zDMfC0CjCSA&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4Mgf8JVAPe8&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4Mgf8JVAPe8&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></span>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-69230203548795397612010-01-24T19:47:00.002-05:002010-01-24T23:03:30.598-05:00The Obscure desires of human porcupines<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></i></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i></i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A number of porcupines huddled together for warmth on a cold day in winter; but, as they began to prick one another with their quills, they were obliged to disperse. However the cold drove them together again, when just the same thing happened . . . In the same way the need of society drives the human porcupines together, only to be mutually repelled by the many prickly and disagreeable qualities of their nature. (Schopenhauer, 1851)</span></span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">No satirist understands the bizarreness of the human condition better than Luis Buñuel. In his 1977 film </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That Obscure Object of Desire</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">he hilariously captures the conflicted nature of human relationships - our innate desire to be with another is perfectly opposed by innate desire to get away from them.</span></span></span></i></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: medium; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; font-style: normal; white-space: pre;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IbhZtioLWoU&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IbhZtioLWoU&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span> </i></span></span></span></span><br />
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</span></span>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-51660075954170166042009-12-24T22:01:00.000-05:002009-12-24T22:01:56.239-05:00Freud, surrealism and crowded house<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/82JZh3VyE2M&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/82JZh3VyE2M&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></div>It's funny how seeing a simple Crowded House music video can start an entire thought process that traces its aesthetic heritage back 110 years. As I watched its dreamy black and white nonlinear narrative, with its doves, sleepwalkers, split images and celestial framing, it made me realize how much modern culture still ripples with Freudian imagery and Surrealist aesthetics.<br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5-DjluKLY14&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5-DjluKLY14&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span> <div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/D4SO_tWe4R8&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/D4SO_tWe4R8&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IOZ6ptqcbUc&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IOZ6ptqcbUc&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
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</div><div>Surrealism owes a substantial artistic debt to Freud, the man who first presented to us the concept of the unconscious, a submerged psychological iceberg full of taboo memories, thoughts and desires that ominously guides the greater part of our behavior. Some decades later, artists working in the surrealist tradition (Magritte, Ernst, De Chirico, Picabia, Dali) harnessed these groundbreaking ideas in realizing that art can be enhanced by the unconscious - both in creating and perceiving it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHLAbGyrScIcynpe46UG89nqiAx1eY74dtq6L9UuCOIX2LCJIJ-idN-Mf2WlBaKfSMJc_CG_vUEmx10NvdvNo2JzCDrvlasnACQO2iPc4ncacaP-ebCv4Qg2R9U_T3w7_IrOal5K8e2Vc/s1600-h/rene-magritte-the-man-in-the-bowler-hat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHLAbGyrScIcynpe46UG89nqiAx1eY74dtq6L9UuCOIX2LCJIJ-idN-Mf2WlBaKfSMJc_CG_vUEmx10NvdvNo2JzCDrvlasnACQO2iPc4ncacaP-ebCv4Qg2R9U_T3w7_IrOal5K8e2Vc/s320/rene-magritte-the-man-in-the-bowler-hat.jpg" /></a><br />
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</div><div>Their greatest technique was in the way that they created works of art that depicted very real objects and images but that became other-worldly through their framing or juxtaposition or immersed in some strange impossible scenery. As the mind cannot make rational sense of it, the unconscious part becomes activated, forcing us into an entire new and very pleasurable state of consciousness. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Surrealism is dreaming with your eyes wide open. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnZnckE09bWE_DXlseKh76Y64sn1OKqNt72rz111rTkTv5v79FGC5hO6s6QpyTFXf9yQfgtOdp39wMpaR8NCByZzb7_1ZtDqsAIG1OxsW-kKQKS92RT21GBzAsZI5gEtxMn6ko7bWmZQU/s1600-h/Magritte_objects1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnZnckE09bWE_DXlseKh76Y64sn1OKqNt72rz111rTkTv5v79FGC5hO6s6QpyTFXf9yQfgtOdp39wMpaR8NCByZzb7_1ZtDqsAIG1OxsW-kKQKS92RT21GBzAsZI5gEtxMn6ko7bWmZQU/s320/Magritte_objects1.jpg" /></a><br />
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</div></div></div></div></div>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-334756508538352142009-11-22T22:21:00.000-05:002009-11-22T22:21:22.434-05:00Wim Wenders: Wings of Desire (1987)<span style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ioGGQAkNKow&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ioGGQAkNKow&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br />
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Who might guess that this oddly constructed film about angels in Berlin could be so incredibly moving, a piece of cinema that is a poem at every level. Wim Wenders, unlike many <i>auteurs</i> both before and after him seems to realize that cinema communicates through all of sounds, words and imagery - in Wings of Desire these components are so meticulously constructed and intricately woven with each other that even the mere simpleton can for a moment experience synaesthesia.<br />
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The most notable scenes are those where we drift through public spaces able to hear the innermost thoughts of Berlin's citizens in all their mundanity, isolation and beauty - a collection of unrelated simultaneously occurring inner dialogues, filmed using a continuous take. At some point in time, you realize that this must also be what human consciousness is like - a million simple anonymous thoughts that coexist, unbroken in time.<br />
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This film is truly magic.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xvdlf4Gusfk&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xvdlf4Gusfk&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-57449107011218127682009-11-11T16:09:00.001-05:002009-11-11T16:09:59.270-05:00Unconcerned, but not indifferent.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVi_Bh_wDUqwMFJKrvAxCDlWhkZVlsXh2GQtZXJweTwuRH68-0HKhk4vHnZknD2pMivB7gatb3XkesQh0VOcJ2YzBaPb2uMCXhOgsrBw5AXvJdujAjKa-5AYLhyphenhyphenrSC7Jm_bGUdsUEvuTI/s1600-h/Paris+Dada.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVi_Bh_wDUqwMFJKrvAxCDlWhkZVlsXh2GQtZXJweTwuRH68-0HKhk4vHnZknD2pMivB7gatb3XkesQh0VOcJ2YzBaPb2uMCXhOgsrBw5AXvJdujAjKa-5AYLhyphenhyphenrSC7Jm_bGUdsUEvuTI/s320/Paris+Dada.jpg" /></a><br />
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The Dada movement in art is without a doubt my favorite. There is no other collection of artists and artworks that manages to be simultaneously controversial, macabre, hilarious and intriguing - they first poked fun at the established art of time and redefined the role of the artist and the viewer. When Europe was still shattered from the destruction of WWI, the Dadaists were able to make the kind of art that slaps you, destroys apathy and forces you to engage in a conversation - they were so ahead of their time that even encountering a Dada work today will be an unprecedented and often shocking experience. For every high school misfit that broods over Dali's "The persistence of memory" there is someone like me wanting to whack them over the head and point out Dali's predecessors - true rebels that were not afraid to start a revolution that unquestionably set the stage for modern art.<br />
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</div>Man Ray on the other hand is without doubt one of my favorite photographers. While he was a Dadaist, in many ways he was also unlike them - firstly he was a Brooklynite in a world full of Europeans, a cool observer in a world of political activists and a photographer who also had financial success amongst artistic martyrs and anti-establishmentarians.<br />
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</div>One of Man Ray's most unusual achievements is the way he saw his subjects in a new light, ripping apart all sentimentality when it comes to the human form and reducing it all to an object or shape. This obsession saw him experiment with new techniques - placing objects directly on photographic film, negative exposures and compositions and collages that linked the human body and the object-machine. The resulting works are always aesthetic but also unsettling - mirrors that reflect back to us the contents of our mind and yet remain coolly silent about Man Ray, the artist. Unconcerned, but not indifferent (written on Man Ray's grave).<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhXttcliITKR1zcRuNkJW7X0J0AVIFMlWJMGoYFgBTBfF3q5RvHaQQz7hzLVVv8gd-TBB-dKVvK2lIxH-vrVSeW6XoUSUIbUKUpkqnmo4_rbTBuqmR9gFOk30vAU1fOCBGH_VWpNNZMag/s1600-h/24344-004-3F98CBFA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhXttcliITKR1zcRuNkJW7X0J0AVIFMlWJMGoYFgBTBfF3q5RvHaQQz7hzLVVv8gd-TBB-dKVvK2lIxH-vrVSeW6XoUSUIbUKUpkqnmo4_rbTBuqmR9gFOk30vAU1fOCBGH_VWpNNZMag/s320/24344-004-3F98CBFA.jpg" /></a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimLAxIDqDh8FHEAIhkIw__uQV-i9EPeQ1z7slvsxzizVE5lYJtbwrGekpd8tA9sHHhRKVHraKhYTKGhMvn33_rziW-I2iwKaeO7e7SMKLGhDtPmnLVkgQ3YxWCORQ7A5VTxi79QwrLD9U/s1600-h/0117_Man_Ray.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimLAxIDqDh8FHEAIhkIw__uQV-i9EPeQ1z7slvsxzizVE5lYJtbwrGekpd8tA9sHHhRKVHraKhYTKGhMvn33_rziW-I2iwKaeO7e7SMKLGhDtPmnLVkgQ3YxWCORQ7A5VTxi79QwrLD9U/s320/0117_Man_Ray.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZqdDkrArH2I5KyjptncbivbkTz62LkHq9QwSQEAqOi7J6qq22f10fNhxwjqGDPEvYXg7b8G9kOv51bD9KycPtQVcN20_YWDxv-zgJg3agE2GNO7E50Q24pbHPY87uG2CUFFVrZO6WpA/s1600-h/GD6309761@Man-Ray,-Marquise-Cas-9333.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZqdDkrArH2I5KyjptncbivbkTz62LkHq9QwSQEAqOi7J6qq22f10fNhxwjqGDPEvYXg7b8G9kOv51bD9KycPtQVcN20_YWDxv-zgJg3agE2GNO7E50Q24pbHPY87uG2CUFFVrZO6WpA/s320/GD6309761@Man-Ray,-Marquise-Cas-9333.jpg" /></a><br />
</div>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-39798486888635079932009-10-23T20:33:00.000-04:002009-10-23T20:33:37.226-04:00Looking through and Looking in: Robert Frank<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlVvKE6THc5LL3qAKOeSpAxQ99nMK-UBy8iI7vZSs4XxTIo65c_aBbJBw4nx1r07vvRDSSMaJSTq3Yq6sIzM7YeJR4z_kcKGfbqIRLW3G82UCz98nDTGmX_bSuoaf-jOr5PK7jz5OZ6r8/s1600-h/robert-frank_parade_hoboken-thumb-500x332.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlVvKE6THc5LL3qAKOeSpAxQ99nMK-UBy8iI7vZSs4XxTIo65c_aBbJBw4nx1r07vvRDSSMaJSTq3Yq6sIzM7YeJR4z_kcKGfbqIRLW3G82UCz98nDTGmX_bSuoaf-jOr5PK7jz5OZ6r8/s320/robert-frank_parade_hoboken-thumb-500x332.jpg" /></a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhysKOwh_hSABFn59nS1KQYbVdCfWwyP37kW-CZLbfN1eNG86b3cCuizxrP1mWBegzRL0EObz2jMVrTACEkBS2fTsQnEwSb85R3ICbpMysrAkUawuAL4XpMApNNnBw6FEYm0twoQ5CsuPA/s1600-h/artwork_images_117186_240268_robert-frank.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhysKOwh_hSABFn59nS1KQYbVdCfWwyP37kW-CZLbfN1eNG86b3cCuizxrP1mWBegzRL0EObz2jMVrTACEkBS2fTsQnEwSb85R3ICbpMysrAkUawuAL4XpMApNNnBw6FEYm0twoQ5CsuPA/s320/artwork_images_117186_240268_robert-frank.jpg" /></a><br />
</div>Robert Frank took photos of Americans, and for a Swiss man, he did a pretty good job at it. "The Americans" is a collection of 83 photographs that were a result of a behemoth roadtrip by Frank in the 1950s that spanned the States coast-to-coast. It's easy to assume what these photographs would say - the erudite European flees to the States and amuses himself with the naive optimism, opportunism and ostentatiousness of post WWII America. And yet it's hard to decide how Frank feels about his subjects - there is certainly a sense in which his photos are another critique of the usual suspect-isms (consumerism, capitalism, racism, nationalism.. the list goes on) but there is an undeniable affection towards them which pulls at your heart and invites you into the photo. You find yourself staring at these photos for an unusually long period of time, fuelled by some humanistic desire to peer into their lives of these people in an empathic rather than voyeuristic capacity. You wonder about the elevator operator and what thoughts have captured her in a suspended moment that supersedes the hubbub around her, or the humor and pathos of the dour diner waitress crowned by a ruddy-cheeked Santa.<br />
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You decide (realize?) you love Americans.<br />
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The lessons you learn as a photographer are important - the people and the situations are everyday, but Frank's framing transforms the mundane into the profound little existential moments usually reserved for philosophers and lovers- is there anything more that can be achieved by an artist?<br />
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</div>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-62301586361550786192009-10-17T12:38:00.003-04:002009-10-17T12:50:38.978-04:00Chris Cunningham, can I have your life?<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Making a music video surely must be the best gig for any film maker- it's short, there are no narrative constraints and yet you still have the structure and inspiration of the song you are working with. Let's not even mention mass appeal and exposure. It does seem to beg the question though as to why so many music video artists don't seem to run with this, instead leaving us with formulaic, forgettable cine-ditties that take a back seat to the song and function like a Fisher-Price mobile - something moving to fill our visual field when listening to the song. </span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Hello Chris Cunningham. Rather than being known for a particular style or genre, this Brit hits music video nirvana by completely inhabiting the space of the song he is working with. The effect is powerful to the point that you can no longer recollect the song without a rapid synaptic short-circuit that immediately brings to mind the video. Bjork's song "All is Full of Love" for example graduates from trip-hop zen to sublime masterpiece by the milky movements of Cunningham's unusual robot make-out session video (see below). Windowlicker has a pacing and humor that exactly matches and opens up Aphex Twin's coolly discombobulated electronica. To date there has not been an underwater video that fuels up on beats like Portishead's Only You. When looking at his ouvre, it's exceedingly hard to summarize his aesthetic, technique or style, and yet this lack of the artist's ego-watermark makes his rise as one of the best director-auteurs of this era both ironic and deserved. </span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Chris Cunningham: simply real damn good.<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', -webkit-fantasy; white-space: pre;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EjAoBKagWQA&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EjAoBKagWQA&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Pe-XNav5mWU&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Pe-XNav5mWU&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></span>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-35476884361433986832009-10-10T10:07:00.002-04:002009-10-10T10:09:26.329-04:00Diane Arbus: The freakshow<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">Art lovers, photographers and critics alike lap up Arbus' portraits like they are crack for the art-starved soul. We say she is an innovative and significant photographer - her techniques, her composition, her incisive cultural commentary make her one of the biggest and most successful names in the field. However there is one criticism that finds its way to Arbus that refuses to be ignored and that has more than anything made me think about the nature and ethics of photographing people. The question is: is it Arbus' photography that we cooly appreciate or are Arbus' unusual subjects that which we are oddly attracted to? The freakshows of the 19th century, with their bearded ladies and siamese twins were a form of entertainment for the masses in which ordinary people paid and gathered around to revel in the perverse pleasure of human anomaly. We all stare, letting ourselves be simultaneously fascinated and disgusted by that which will never enter our social world, taking comfort in our relative normality. Is this the same pleasure that we take in Arbus' photos, made legitimate by its status as art? Were it not for her subjects, how would we judge the artistic merit of these photos? These are the questions I ask myself every time I have taken a photograph of a person who I thought was unusual, whether in appearance, dress or behavior. Ultimately my interest in people supercedes both my ethics and the desire to see on portraits an egomaniacal fingerprint of the artist - question their merit if you will...<br />
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</div>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-17360669574102757352009-10-06T21:59:00.003-04:002009-10-06T22:34:42.096-04:00Eyes Wide Shut: seeing into a film<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3pkrk8IgO9r42tNLcp5QlmFsl15HweEOx7CZk0_G54Eqn9HTPZy6S6Qlp1IcRAxX_W_WDV7Uhld4KWA5bn6ejUkMDChivy51ToGp90bNC-QH95hQxksn0Vf2wrO43WrMYTQZtgpp5eqI/s1600-h/ewshut11.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3pkrk8IgO9r42tNLcp5QlmFsl15HweEOx7CZk0_G54Eqn9HTPZy6S6Qlp1IcRAxX_W_WDV7Uhld4KWA5bn6ejUkMDChivy51ToGp90bNC-QH95hQxksn0Vf2wrO43WrMYTQZtgpp5eqI/s320/ewshut11.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389679932525805538" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3q-1TMj-nuk-zOlhV656s9S4r4HtU6MblbvyUtEm1hyphenhyphenTmwIGw31SQp7F7Lfa7jUMpJdLMjF6As-Yzua0kCnR8ynAMYQJ_n6KJ-Hwr0yqAKFxyBz2DrC4j85m-3R3Ei40bCrIyw6BkiXg/s1600-h/eyeswideshut-videoclip_03.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 228px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3q-1TMj-nuk-zOlhV656s9S4r4HtU6MblbvyUtEm1hyphenhyphenTmwIGw31SQp7F7Lfa7jUMpJdLMjF6As-Yzua0kCnR8ynAMYQJ_n6KJ-Hwr0yqAKFxyBz2DrC4j85m-3R3Ei40bCrIyw6BkiXg/s320/eyeswideshut-videoclip_03.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389679927831474690" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzq-8VAFSkNRd559uHIVO00UWe-wGv_05p_8o4vZx3VUYhLBgILRvvkFs28SfSpVtjqIn906HlLFCfrwnwZgU1ud25etEuuKc2BhU3DkQCamSvV1dL9ngkwQLGZm6yMGiL0Ft0aSOnlEU/s1600-h/eyes-wide-shut.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 142px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzq-8VAFSkNRd559uHIVO00UWe-wGv_05p_8o4vZx3VUYhLBgILRvvkFs28SfSpVtjqIn906HlLFCfrwnwZgU1ud25etEuuKc2BhU3DkQCamSvV1dL9ngkwQLGZm6yMGiL0Ft0aSOnlEU/s320/eyes-wide-shut.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389679922867800482" /></a><br />There is no doubt - I dislike this film. I dislike it for reasons I can easily articulate and probably for even more reasons that I am not even aware of. However like any love-hate relationship, it leaves an indelible impact that has you revisiting and dissecting it for many years to come. The film is unsettling, but many attribute this to the unusual performances by Kidman and Cruise in a dark nonlinear narrative that explores some harrowing sexual themes. For me however, it was simply the look of the film that stunned me into submission. Kubrick's use of light is unlike anything I had encountered in a film and proves to me that his ability as a cinematographer is equal (or I'd hazard to say superior to) his ability as a director. Most films are lit under bright studio lights, giving them the shiny hyperreal quality that we have come to enjoy. Kubrick eschews this tendency, such that the light seems to emanate solely from external sources such as lamps and chandeliers. Apart from being an extremely difficult and costly technique it gives the film its darkly glowing quality, and renders one of the most significant works of filmic art I have encountered.Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309711667783652646.post-36811499529024903982009-10-04T22:16:00.001-04:002009-10-04T22:19:13.384-04:00Urban Suburbia #7 (as inspired by Henson)<div style="text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;"><br /></div><div style="text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7xsW8wy-dqP-Gh1wcMC_zZm9mxAurTxtMWJKAjfSq8a9gUuAODms9LPxvaYceFj-z3HnXyFqfMc0jowBhzUdUD1anuw1vz1dNgedb4wEeFqpdyaK4kbichpDXivas4vzVPjEV-0XfWr0/s1600-h/n556820629_2385659_2463.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7xsW8wy-dqP-Gh1wcMC_zZm9mxAurTxtMWJKAjfSq8a9gUuAODms9LPxvaYceFj-z3HnXyFqfMc0jowBhzUdUD1anuw1vz1dNgedb4wEeFqpdyaK4kbichpDXivas4vzVPjEV-0XfWr0/s400/n556820629_2385659_2463.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a> </div><div style="text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;"><br /></div>This project involved taking some night shots of a suburban street and its most typical elements: garages, lights and mailboxes. Suburbia is not always what it seems.<div style="clear:both; text-align:CENTER"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>Fotofiliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575747082601844478noreply@blogger.com1