For almost three years, I’ve carried a little red movie ticket in my wallet, the old-fashioned pulpy kind, from a big roll. It says “Emergency Re-admit” on it. It enables me to return and see Dancer in the Dark, which I went to see one weekday afternoon in 2000. After 15 confusing minutes, I snapped and decided I’d better get back to work, and I hastily, if temporarily, abandoned the controversial film.
Last night, I watched it on DVD, and it blew me away. It’s not just a movie starring a singer, it’s a musical. All this time, I’d assumed that meant it had some aggressively amateurish Sound of Music renditions, with Catherine Deneuve and Bjork as added gimmicks. So I was half-watching while writing when the first actual musical number came on, almost halfway into the film. After that, I was transfixed.
Von Trier was intent on “covering” the musical numbers in one take, as live events–come what may audio-, image-, and mistake-wise– using 100 cameras. It didn’t quite happen that way. They did use 100 fixed, synch-coded DV cameras (140 for one song), covering the entire performance area, and they shot several takes, all the way through. Additional crews shot close-ups of Bjork. The result: a staggering amount of footage (68 hours for one three minute song) and, presumably, a big job in post.
Rapid cuts between fixed shots stands in sharp contrast to the never-resting hand-held camerawork in the rest of the film. From the commentary tracks, the choreographer Vince Paterson, who did the Vogue video, meted out whip-cracking tough love, Madonna-style, on his Dogme-soaked, improv-happy collaborators. Vince made sure the 100 cameras positions and framing was actually based on the staging. His impressive combination of imperiousness and restraint comes through in his commentary, (“We found out it would serve our purpose much better to involve me.”) and it’s not hard to accept von Trier’s comment that Paterson saved the movie.
The limitations of this ultimately low-tech, handcrafted sophistication are apparent, though. Von Trier rightly laments the short cuts it produces: “Maybe if you had 2,000 cameras, you could get some longer cuts and closeups.” At the same time, he argues strongly against editing between multiple takes and for multi-camera coverage of a single performance. It all reminds me of The Matrix Reloaded, of all things. Specifically, the god-like CG camera technique the Wachowksis and Maeda used to film The Burly Man fight, the one with 100 Agent Smiths and thousands of cameras.
Venice: Vidi, Bitchy
The Venice Biennale is finally
Lisa Dennison, chief curator of the Guggenheim (“Where the sponsor’s always right!”), complained to the Times about the curators having too much say. [Or the Guggenheim not having enough: they apparently lobbied hard for Matthew Barney’s Cremaster Cycle to be chosen for the Guggenheim-owned American Pavilion. Fred Wilson got it instead.]
Wilson has an African street vendor selling fake purses at the entrance to his installation of Venetian Moor-related art. Via Vogel: “Richard Dorment, an American who is an art critic for The Daily Telegraph of London, said he was speechless when he saw the pavilion. ‘To put a seller of handbags in front of a pavilion is condescending to both Americans and Venetians,’ Mr. Dorment said. ‘This is a person, not a work of art. Where are the days when major American artists represented our country?'”
[Rowrr. Dorment apparently lived up to his name; his sniping ignores 1) the inside of the pavilion, which many people praised, 2) the major majorness of the 2001 show’s Robert Gober, and 3) Maurizio Cattelan showing a buried person–an Indian fakir, whose praying hands stuck out of the sand–in 1999. And besides, in 2001, Venice was plastered by billboards for some museum exhibition which pulled the same street vendor stunt as Wilson.]
Elmgreen & Dragset’s e-flux poster, starring Lala, image: e-flux.com
People, if you’re looking for Pitti, it’s in Florence. Venetian art parties rank below even Cannes film premieres on the Burdens Likely To Evoke Sympathy scale. It’s a lesson well learned by the Guardian’s Cannes crank, Fiachra Gibbons, who clearly looked on the bright side in Venice. His reports are giddy fun, from his Black Power shoutout for Wilson’s work, and Chris Ofili’s British pavilion to his star-struck love letter to Lala, the diva chimpanzee star of “Spelling U-T-O-P-I-A”, by my pals Elmgreen & Dragset. [There’s something for the blogosphere to figure out: at what point does “in the interest of full disclosure” become “shameless touting of my connection to famous friends”? Ask me tomorrow when I post about my friend, Olafur Eliasson.]
As I sit here in New York, recovering from my A/C-induced cold, I’m working on an “I Survived the Venice Biennale” T-shirt, for those who truly suffer for art. Stay tuned (or feel free to send a design suggestion or two).
Everyone’s Making Movies
Well, Jason is, anyway. It’s a love story. Believe me, you’ll laugh, you’ll cry.
On M. Philip Copp, The Military Industrial Complex’s Goto Guy For “Unfunny Comics”
Discovering The Atomic Revolution–a stunningly drawn, cheerleading 1957 comic book for Our Friend, The Atom–and being in an apocalyptic Animated Musical state of mind, I set out to discover its origins, and its elusive creator, Mr. M. Philip Copp, whose only other known (to Google) publication was a 1952 comic book, Crime, Corruption & Communism.
On the people in my neighborhood, v6
He’s since learned the importance of location–and foot traffic–to a retail operation. And he’s got his schtick down pat; as the neighborhood ladies marvelled at the marble cake (“And is that red velvet? I make that!”), he let it slip that he’d baked it himself last night. That’s right, those kids over on Fifth may be foisting their nanny-cake on the doormen, but on Lex, the law of the retail jungle prevails: it’s every man for himself. By the time his parents brought the Range Rover around for the drive to Southampton, he’d sold out his entire inventory of brownies and (bundt and red velvet) cakes.
Lizzie Grubman, if you ever actually open a bakery here, you’ll have some stiff competition.
On, Apparently, Not Getting the Memo
I broke down and subscribed to Harper’s after they jacked up their newsstand price. I can’t go without my Harper’s [You shouldn’t either.] But apparently, much like David Remnick before him, the illustrious Roger Hodge somehow neglected to notify me of Harper’s Weekly Review, which resides online. I had to learn about it from The Morning News. Not bad, but still. When is Big Media going to realize it’s real problem is not paying me enough attention?
But nevermind that for now. Here’s an excerpt from this/last week [Urgent note to Mr Hodge: What, no archive??]
President George W. Bush staged a handshake between the Israeli and Palestinian prime ministers at a summit meeting in Jordan. President Bush, Prime Ministers Ariel Sharon and Mahmoud Abbas, and King Abdullah II of Jordan stood outdoors together in the hot sun wearing suits and ties but were kept free of unsightly perspiration by tubes installed by White House operatives that blasted cold air from an ultra-quiet air conditioner that was hidden nearby. Sharon and Abbas read statements about the “road map” to peace that were largely written by American officials. “I think when you analyze the statements, you’ll find them to be historic,” Bush told reporters later. “Amazing things were said.” Hamas, Islamic Jihad, and the Al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigade responded to the summit with a joint attack on an Israeli military outpost in Gaza, killing four soldiers. Elsewhere, in the West Bank, Israeli forces shot a seven-year-old Palestinian girl in the abdomen.
Frieze Mag’s SMS Reports from Venice
The Venice Biennale is opening right now, and the artworld (minus 1 or 2) is trying to crash each other’s parties. Far from regretting not being there, I am getting a full Biennale experience, thanks to Frieze Magazine’s, SMS reports. For the second morning in a row, we were repeatedly startled awake by my cell phone vibrating across the room.
Here’s one from yesterday: FriezeSMS Venice 03: Text message codes: Pav=Pavilion. Gia=Giardini. Ar=Arsenale. IO=Invite Only. Pa=Party.
And this morning, a splash of a review: FriezeSMS: Not even the Op Art effect of the glittering lagoon prepares you for Ofili + Adjaye’s luminescent rooms. Paradise is within reach. Sun Factor 40…
Last Biennale, too, we waited until later in the summer, avoiding the art masses, at least. Here’s my Sept. 7, 2001 post about the visit, from back when the weblog was young.
Rafael Vinoly on the WTC Competition(s)
[via Archinect] Last month, MIT’s Dept. of Architecture hosted a presentation by Rafael Vinoly, the Al Gore of last year’s WTC
Some highlights: (1:15:00) “Libeskind was courted; he was actually in Germany and decided not to enter, and the LMDC went to Germany to get him– because he was the Owner of Death or something (audience laughter).”
Vinoly may be more polite, but he’s not alone in his criticism of Libeskind. “Dream Teamers” Peter Eisenman and Steven Holl weren’t shy in discussing their disgust, either. And as Gothamist reports, Libeskind’s design is still under fire from many sides.
Though he pointedly doesn’t talk about waking up the next morning to find out they’d lost, Vinoly does give some advice on the Memorial Competition: (1:42:00) Q. Should entrants in the Memorial Competition take the Libeskind scheme as a departure point? A. “The major prob with the [Libeskind] scheme is that the scheme does the Memorial… I know for a fact…that what [the LMDC and memorial jury] are expecting is precisely somethng that actually changes this…Do what you want, because that’s what they’re expecting.”
Speaking of the End of The World…
Maybe a Tarkovsky movie works best as a memory; watching The Sacrifice again after many years was a little trying. However easily I got distracted by some of the antic, theatrical acting, the make-or-break single-take scene at the end, where the < SPOILER ALERT> house burns < /SPOILER> has a langorous, unassuming awesomeness. It’s not your typical one-shot, in so many ways.
Anyway, The Sacrifice’s post-nuclear armageddon setting reminded me of a good Wim Wenders film, Until The End of the World. Actually, it was listening to the even greater soundtrack, which reminded me.
On Taste Tribes
via Boingboing: On Mindjack, Joshua Ellis writes at length about what he calls Taste Tribes, friendship by cultural affinity–liking people who like the same stuff. Blogs are the engines for the smarter artist/chiefs of their own taste tribes.
I cooked something up along those lines in 1999 at Shagpad, which was based on the Austin Powerish, Abercrombie & Fitchy theory that people bought stuff in direct relation to its ability to get them laid. Or as the VC-Powerpoint presentation-ready slogan goes, “Shagpad.com leverages web and e-commerce technology to monetize aspirational lifestyle portfolios that facilitate getting mad play.” The idea came out of some client work which became, in part, Pop.com (They chose the wrong part, I thought.) At Shagpad are a couple of essays that are not quite embarassing enough to take offline (and besides, the buy-this-lifestyle Amazon links usually pay the hosting).
[Update: It should be noted that I peeled off my friend Jeff’s last name; he’s a sculptor in Red Hook, and the Google searches were beginning to cramp his style. Now that Wallpaper* has declared Red Hook trendy, I’ll probably have to change that, too. Aaron, you have my sympathy.]
Bloghdad.com/Baghdad_Museum_Director_Due_For_A_Private_Lynching
First, the BBC uncovers the truth behind the too-good-to-be-factchecked Saving Private Lynch story, calling it “one of the most stunning pieces of news management ever conceived.”
Now, according to the Guardian, a BBC news program shows the Wholesale Looting of The Baghdad Museum story to be just as made up.
Question for media: When it’s a Ba’ath party official playing you, do you still call it “news management” or is it just lying? Bigger question for media: Now that you’ve been demonstrably
Meteorite Mashes Marfa Minimalist Masterpiece, Maybe?
Mmmm? In Art Papers, the artist Evan Levy tells the story of visiting The Chinati Foundation, Donald Judd’s minimalist mecca in Marfa, Texas. He found “a flaw, a missing corner, in one of the concrete sculptures,” which Judd placed in the field beyond his converted army warehouses. Later, Levy discovered a meteorite nearby, and wondered if it’s “the only intergalactic rock to have struck a work of modern art?” He built a show around it, apparently.
It sounds implausible to me, and not just because he was supposedly forbidden to take any pictures of the sculpture. (I have all kinds of pictures from my trip to Marfa.) But ask him yourself next week. He’s giving a promisingly titled artist’s talk, ennui & asteroids, Sunday June 14th at 2pm at the Sandler Hudson Gallery in Atlanta.
[Bonus alliterative update: Memories of Making Movies in Marfa]
The Art House Project: James Turrell and Tadao Ando in Naoshima
Ando and Turrell collaborated on Minamidera, a Buddhist temple on Naoshima, a small island in Japan’s Inland Sea. Is it worth noting that Ando was a boxer and Turrell was a Quaker? Here is one exchange from their conversation inside the completed space:
Ando:The color is really nice. I have no difficulty just being here for 10 minutes.
Turrell:Sometimes 10 minutes is difficult in modern life. This is fine that the situation of a work like this in a small town, puts together traditional and the contemporary. It’s a way that makes some sense. I think that things in contemporary art must be something for you.They need to be near your life, too. People here at first, may wonder about this work, and about the architecture. Over time, it should be very interesting for them, because other people will come on a long journey just to see their town.
The Naoshima Contemporary Art Museum oversees “The Art House Project,” where disused traditional buildings are restored in collaboration with a contemporary artist. In addition to Turrell, the artists Tatsuo Miyajima, Rei Naito, and Hiroshi Sugimoto have completed Art Houses. The hotel on the island, Bennesse House, was designed by Ando. The crappily decorated rooms each have generally good, unique, contemporary art in them.
Here’s what you gotta do
Ladies and Gentlemen, We Have a Winner
detail, The Atomic Revolution, image: ep.tc
[Dublog, you rock.] If I could get the artist of The Atomic Revolution to do my Animated Musical, I would. Ausin-based artist Ethan Persoff found the mysterious 1957 comic book at an estate sale, along with “a corporate memo, a vinyl recording discussing Einstein’s theories and a large calendar-sized brochure of modern-art-inspired paintings using a number of atomic weapons companies’ logos.” He scanned it and posted it online.
The caption for the above image reads: “On December 8, 1953, President Eisenhower proposed to the United Nations that the world join together to ‘strip the atom of its military casing and adapt it to the arts of peace.’ Even now the United States is building portable atomic power stations that can be shipped by air to any part of the world. These capsules of civilization [??] can be used to produce heat, power, and radioactivity.”
Some of the gorgeous line drawings are based on photographs. They have a stunning combination of clarity, obfuscation, optimism and eerieness. If there was an Government-Issue Version of Detective Story, the noir installment of The Animatrix, this is what it’d look like. Cowboy Bebop director Shinichiro Watanabe did both Detective Story and Kid’s Story, which gives the backstory on Neo;’s exasperating Zion groupie. Free will does not extend to not getting Animatrix. Buy it now. We have quotas to meet.