Saturday, January 29, 2011

Images Of Rasta Colors

Two questions Elia Suleiman

was this afternoon at the Forum des Images in the festival A state of the world ... and film. Elia Suleiman was answering questions following the screening of his first feature film, Chronicle of a Disappearance . About reported.

In Chronicle of a Disappearance there are plans in which outside noises were added, such as a police siren, a passing plane or bird songs. This supplement is sound he made in order to further embed the viewer into the real?

This is not the reality I try to recreate with these sounds. I want them to create a metamorphosis of reality, a kind of potential reality. I'm not looking to make a truth I seek that the viewer finds his own truth through the sensations he feels. The sound is something essential. It creates a kind of tension in the film. Sometimes I remove some elements of my framing voluntarily. And the sound of birds is meant to suggest that we are on the sides, in what I removed from the field, there was actually a tree. Sound adds an extra layer to the "tables" that I build in every movie.

What role does the installation in your creative process?

There is such pressure on the set with respect to the timing when I arrive in the editing room with my editor, it is relaxing. For he who does the technical work and appealed to my creativity. Editing is a bit like a cooking recipe: before you start, you know what forms have vegetables and what will make noise when the knife will fell on the block, but all this, we will change to create something new and avoid to walk again on the box. And in the end, it is important not to add cream, if the dishes are always the same taste.

Can I Crush My Can Of Diced Tomatoes

Parents; Krzysztof Kieslowski

"Our relationship with our parents is inherently unfair. When they are at their best, beautiful, energetic, lively, loving, we do not know because we are not yet there. Either we are so small that it escapes us completely. Then when we grow up and reach the age of understanding, they begin to age. They have the same energy. They no longer have the same taste for life when they were young. They have experienced disappointments and failures. They became bitter. I had wonderful parents. Great. Only I could not realizing in time. I did not know because I was too stupid, too young. Then we do not have enough time to love, we are caught by our own work. We have a family, children. Of course, we continue to call them to say "I love you, Mom." But the problem is not there. We are no longer at home. Now our parents feel a constant need we have with them. For them, we are always children who need protection. But we try to escape them, and it is our right. So I think that the relationship between parents and children is always unfair. Simple as that. All generations suffer from this "injustice." The important thing to realize. "

cinema and I , Krzysztof Kieslowski

Free Computer Desks Blueprints

Stealing a scene Kieslowski and James Gray

It starts one evening last week with a click on one of my favorite links: dailymotion page of images Forum. I click Most viewed and I found the Master Class by James Gray. A director I admire especially, especially for a film: The Yards .

must look at the passage in the first 10 minutes in which Pascal Mérigeau - which really raises great questions - ask him if we could not say that the first scene of The Yards is completely copied La Bete Humaine Jean Renoir.

" But of course it is completely borrowed, stolen and even the human animal. "JG replied." But that does not bother me elsewhere. I think it flies even if one has not the intention. I am concerned no such things, of the original, non original, borrowing, I tell myself that if I put myself in the film, I'm the only one, and there will only my voice we hear in the end. "

(French version here )

Yesterday evening, I am looking at a book at the library, the cinema department. cinema and I , collection interviews with Kieslowski. And there:

"I do not think that stealing is wrong. If someone has experienced a fruitful journey, do not hesitate to venture there to take him some ideas. If the song that I fly in a good movie then operates as part of my own universe, I do it without hesitation. Sometimes, quite unconsciously. But this does not mean that there was no flight, that nothing happened. It happened something, but without premeditation or calculation. This is not a simple imitation. To speak seriously, the films are simply part of our world. We we wake up in the morning to work or we do nothing. We go to bed. We make love. We hate. We watch movies. We are discussing with our friends, our family. We care about the problems of our children or our children's friends. The films are part of our lives. They reflect us. And in so doing, they become a part of ourselves, our universe. They remain in us as the events we have actually experienced. I also think that films do not differ radically from the facts, if they are invented. But it did not matter much. By participating in our minds, they belong to us. Meting of sequences, scenes and ideas in films the same way that I fly stories real people, and soon forget to whom they belonged. "

I began to wonder if it was normal that I construct my scripts in my inspiration at times bits of scenes drawn from all the movies I've seen so far. I now have the answer.

Friday, January 28, 2011

What Causes Gaggin In Morning

Memory; Krzysztof Kieslowski

"I will remember many events that I am unable to say whether they have actually taken place, but I remember exactly, probably because I have often heard talk. In other words, I appropriate facts that have happened to others and, often, I forget that I took, or rather stolen. I steals and I myself believe that I have personally experienced.

I think we remember many things without even realizing it. Sometimes a deep introspection, painful, brings back memories of our images, situations. But you have to want them back. It is a painful work on oneself.

I always recommended to my younger colleagues that I initiate the script writing or directing, to face their lives. Not the need for a scenario, but for themselves. I advise them to try to understand the most important events of their lives that led them to where they are today, sitting in this chair, with all these people around them. What happened in their lives? How did they get there? The important thing to realize. Everything begins there. In the background, years of work that are not accompanied by a profound self-analysis is lost. You can feel and understand the same things intuitively, but intuition produces only random effects. To achieve a satisfactory result, get organized effects, must first go through a work on oneself.

If you do not understand his own life, one can not understand the characters we want to talk, than other people. Philosophers know very well. Artists should also be aware, at least those whose job is to tell stories. This analysis is perhaps not indispensable to musicians, but I guess it is the composers, and to a lesser extent to the painters. All those who tell stories about life need to understand their own lives, but did not bring to light, but an intimacy that can not be shared with anyone. Life is not for sale and the viewer does not guess on me in my films. Of course, some clues can be read quite easily. However, it is impossible to infer how the films I make and the stories I tell are close to me and why. It is impossible. I am the only one to know. "

cinema and I , Krzysztof Kieslowski.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

What Are Raw Diamonds

At Pere Lachaise

Waltz No. 10 in B Minor, Op 69, No. 2 (Chopin) Vladimir Ashkenazy

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Would Flea Fogger Kill Lice

Orsay / Rue de Grenelle

Heureux, Jacques Brel.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

How Much Is 1 Mb Data On Cell Phone

Soul Kitchen, Akin, 2009 - a candidate for Berlinale honestly

FGYO contest for the Youth Jury at the Berlinale 2011. Question 15: Please write a review about the movie "Soul Kitchen" by Fatih Akin (2009) by giving your views

Thirty five minutes and already Zinos coil, the young German director of Greek origin of a small restaurant worker connected to the Hamburg suburb, has had enough. Quite the din of electric guitars musicians of his restaurant, tired of being alone at the restaurant manager while his girlfriend was taken to China work; tired of signing dubious to help his brother out of prison, tired of the chef he has hired give Klitschko that cooking is an art and that his clients appreciate that their Schnitzel, Apples have no taste. Zinos slice. He goes out of her kitchen in a rage: "Stop . Silence, that's it for tonight. Everyone goes home. The restaurant closes. "

c'en If only the film had been finished by the same opportunity and the great Fatih Akin, director acclaimed for its sumptuous Gegen die Wand and Auf der anderen Seite , two films recounting then spent the fate of Germans disapproved of foreign origin, might be able to transform these thirty-five minute short film that stealth would be a gift to his friends and family. Its small personal production would never theatrical release and was unavailable for purchase on Amazon for eternity. In his press interviews Mr. Akin might even confide: " This short film is the culmination of a delirium with friends, a trip burgers" because the actor playing Zinos, co-screenwriter of the film is its long friend of Hamburg date.

It took unfortunately Akin to make a feature film than an hour and a half. It is particularly difficult to write a review on a play when you do not find it funny - in the sense that we do not laugh - and when it also presents absolutely no interest in the film plane, except for some plans on roofs of the Hanseatic city, a soundtrack not too ill-chosen, wide angles and in motion a set of blue lights pretty well in a nightclub sequence. There is also an incentive to faint reflection on the evil capitalist who transforms real estate projects in cities and neighborhoods destroyed alternative. Unfortunately, faced with such a great emptiness in the intricacies of the scenario, that thought is stuck in the first row of neurons of any good movie fan as he is paralyzed by what was unfolding before his eyes. It seems to me have always had a great tolerance and even a taste for comedies or fat black humor. I laughed so many films of the talented Sacha Baron Cohen, humor Belgian Dikkenek way or even American teen movies. Probably because they innovated in their history, their gags, some idea of the show. Soul Kitchen for his part is neither light nor heavy, nor fat, neither spectacular nor amusing is flat, kitsch, and drunk. We know, we packed up, it pushes the back of his chair and we pray that it stops. The film looks like an episode of enhanced Plus Belle La Vie or as a TV movie scheduled Sat 1 to 4 in the morning that gets stuck between a comedy and a drama low end. Can we still call this film?

Without going into a critical pedantic and elitist, I would just say that I am sad that the Venice Film Festival has awarded a prize at Soul Kitchen . Just as a European tradition requires that the carpaccio served cold - not warmed in the microwave, another order to achieve a certain cinematic quality, both in history - whether comic or dramatic - than in the staging and editing. So I plant my knife into the table and throw my apron. I may be fired on the spot to save me but I criticize, I hope, future jewelry dramatic film by Fatih Akin has yet to produce.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Pin Strokes Aftercare

missed a month with Memento, Adaptation, The Gone Chaâba of the Master Class by Michael Caine, and the exhibition "Landmarks, stars 7th Art "

Warning. This psot is not a psot on CIMNE.

Memento, Christopher Nolan, 2000

avenge his wife raped and murdered when we lost the memory directly, it's hard. Leonard remembers everything that happened before his birth to his life with his late wife, but after he received a blow on the head is now unable to remember five minutes after an action having done it. His determination and intelligence lead him to sacrifice his body to move forward in its investigation despite his problem: he tattooed all information collected on its skin.

Some stories are unbelievable in their design, others get through the final cut proposed by the scenario. Memento begins with the end of the film: Leonard kills in cold blood the murderer of his wife. Despite his fragile state of memory (" see, i have this condition "), he has no doubts about the identity of the murderer: he has to reread all the evidence on his body naked before the mirror. The film then goes from scene to scene near the beginning of history, how tectonic plates: Leonard how he managed to conduct the investigation itself? It was then discovered, through the particular philosophical thread - The story of Sammy Janki, the former client when he was sick of Leonard insurer, that the scenario is the golden nugget of cinema: never simple setting of this film in a disorderly manner (fruit of the key artistic director of a Lynchian example) could have created itself also made a spectacular and fascinating.

Adaptation, Spike Jonze, 2003

Charlie Kaufman, screenwriter talented, is entrusted with the task of laying a new scenario from a bestseller a journalist from the New Yorker about the power of orchids. But Charlie is in crisis: it is exceeded by the flow of his own life, and is in need of female affection. Yet it is not that he is missing opportunities to make with friends with him, but Charlie, eternal shy, always fails in the key moments of his life. It is even constantly panicked, anxious, engaged in a cold sweat. Only his texts, his imagination, enabled him to get out of this state. A force to fight against this novel orchidesque from the book by the journalist in which she goes to meet a passionate flower in California, he eventually found : He will turn it into a poetic film about the meaning of life. "It opens on State Road 29. A creamy white van was traveling at full speed and then turn to the right in the nature reserve in India. The driver of the van is a thin man and toothless. " No. It goes wrong. He resumed the beginning. We must think bigger. Everything is accelerating on his typewriter and dictaphone: it is necessary that the film opens on an accelerated evolution of millennia of mankind to get to the flower, the orchid that symbolizes it. Then again on Route 29.

Adaption astonishes by its subtle put into permanent abyss. The scenes with the journalist from the New Yorker out of them-Charlie's imagination or are they just a subtle flashback that we tangled brushes? Whatever. We love, we want more as the game is clever imagination. I will remember the passage where the man with flowers - though still toothless - the journalist says: "Before I was deeply in love tropical fish, all tropical fish, I had dozens of huge aquariums at home. (he names the names of tropical fish in their Latin name). Obliged to scuba diving in my own apartment. And then one day I got tired of fish. Fuck Fish. I had had enough. I turned everything in one day, years and years of work and passion, and never put a foot into the ocean. It was 17 years ago. Why? Finished with fish. And I started with the flowers. "Then he continues." There are over 30,000 species of orchids. Some look like an onion, some to an ape, others an intellectual New York, another at a Midwestern beauty queen, another with eyes that dance, and others have eyes that contain any the sadness of world. "Unfortunately the end is disappointing: the revival of Hollywood action scenes and a chase through the rainforest gives the effect of having been imposed by the production director as it differs from the delicate atmosphere of first hour of the film. Damage.

The Chaâba's Gone, Christophe Ruggia, 1997

Adapted from the autobiographical novel Azouz Begag on the early years of his life, Gone from the Chaâba recalls many moments atmosphere tasty La Vie Devant Soi . Omar, age 9, lives in a slum on the outskirts of Lyon, Chaâba. The latter was created at the initiative of his father and his family arrived in France to escape the poverty of their native Algeria and to give their children a French education in which they are convinced it will allow them entry at executives of the company. But life in the Chaâba is hard to organize and regulate. Algerian families increasingly move there and small conflicts are multiplying as fast as cockroaches and garbage ground: women are fighting for access to pump water, because one of their men opened a butcher shop that attracts health authorities and threatens the community. Omar, in the heckling chest, doing pretty well: second in his class, he is the pride of his father who offers him Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea reward for his good grades. There are scenes in succulent The Chaâba 's Gone: The
where Oscar learns by heart Freedom Mauritius Lent watching the rain turn the earth floor of the shanty town in mud. Take the sun

In Cupping,
A little sun
And go away!

Go into the wind,
Follow your dream;
Go now,
Youth is short!

There are roads
Unknown men
There are roads
If air!

Do not regret what you leave.
Look, there,
Horizon shine.

Far, still further,
Go on singing! The world belongs

To those who have nothing.

The the slum where his comrades accuse Omar of not being Arab because he is second in the class while they are all in the past. The
where Omar refuses to accept the request of the mother of one of his friends to let his son cheat on his copy for the questions in writing: " I'm sorry, I'm willing to help advance 's he wants, but not like that. Allow cheating is stupid, and forbidden. "The
where Omar goes with the rest of the children at the city dump to try to find stuff recoverable: looking for friends pairs of shoes, while Omar is looking for books he could read ... and finds the greatest gift: a dictionary that will allow it, the evening, discover the meaning of new words under his duvet. The
where a friend of Omar when he comes to see is being read and said " No - I do not want to bother you you're working. " Omar response: " But no, I'm not working, I'm reading is not the same thing at all .
The when Omar finally began to write under his tree, "I m name is Omar and I have nine years. I was born in a large hospital in France. I am French. "

Master Class Michael Caine, Forum des Images, January 5, 2011.

Michael Caine, 88 and freshness unbelievable, answered questions during Mérigeau brilliant Pascal 1h30 Forum Pictures and had a chance to be there. What my life has taught me, says it is this: "If You're Going Through hell, keep going. " Born into a poor family in the London suburbs, Michael Caine's wandering lowlands arts in his youth to achieve now have a place in the sun Hollywood. "In the 60 incredibly prosperous for the artistic community, all my actor friends were successful ... except me ." Accustomed In the first part of career to supporting roles in theater and cinema, he received consecration and a great career started with her portrayal of Alfie in the eponymous film. To get to run with the top directors: John Houston, Woody Allen, Christopher Nolan ... while keeping your feet on the ground and agreeing to give us the little anecdotes that shaped his experience. Some big names in the movie taught him that the job of actor is primarily a working rehearsal and performance during the filming should be that of relaxation. We then explained: "One day someone is approached me to congratulate me for having played such a role in this film. But I was not satisfied because if he told me that, it meant that I was not good enough for me totally melt in my character on screen. Conversely, one day someone says to him: " you play yourself . While critical thinking was pejoratively, me I was delighted because I knew very well that I did not play myself and that if he had this impression that I had just been good. "Finally, he explains the difference he makes between a Leading actor and a movie star: " A movie star gets a script and want the script to match his tastes and his image. A Leading actor takes the script and thought that it could bring to character and that the character could bring . "Perseverance and work, here are two good words to sum up Michael Caine.

exhibition" Monuments of the 7th art stars "

I kept them in a very good memory Paris exhibition on view at the cinema in the city hall of Paris in 2005 or 2006 when I was curious to see the exhibition at the Conciergerie on the place of French monuments in the national and international cinema. Dedicated to Eric Rohmer died in 2010, the exhibition takes up all the great hall of the Conciergerie, the monument which was first royal palace and seat of the royal administration and terrifying revolutionary prison. The route of exposure we evolved through many old posters of films featuring the monuments of Paris, leads to projections of film clips shot in various famous places, and then invites us to read some texts summarizing the complications experienced by some filmmakers to shoot at places of historical. We learn that the star of the film star is the medieval city of Carcassonne, where, because of the exceptional state of preservation of the fort, were shot so many films. There are also a few sets of lights and cameras to the visitor to understand the specific techniques for film - historical or not (monochrome backgrounds, sequences in the background ..). This exhibition is true to the image of the film: a journey through time fascinating for anyone a bit curious.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Stacey Fields Farting

Among the 160 extras, there was a poet; Anaïs Barbeau-Lavalette

"Among the 160 extras, there was a man. Between each take, he took refuge in the shade of a tree and watched the scene, his eyes wandering from one side to another disaster.

After a while he picked a daisy and plucked, gently. Long. Even little ritual between each shot. That's it. One way may survive the memory.

I remembered Boris Cyrulnik:

"Poetry is obsolete for those who are force-fed, but when reality is unbearable, it takes the value of a weapon of survival. This is the one who manages to take refuge in his inner world most resistant. The poets then become supermen. They revel in the wonder of survival and are eager to "why." Thus they escape the cruelty of the place. "

The man under the tree was a poet, maybe. "

Anaïs Barbeau-Lavalette, post on his blog superb filming Fire Jordan, 2009.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Planning A Church Anniversary Celebration

Make the wall! / Exit Through the gift shop, Banksy, 2010

" Hello, I would a place for Banksy please. "
She looks at me anxiously. Banksy would he managed to hide without getting caught also in movie theaters?
" Uh, sorry? "
" Yes, Let the wall! / Exit Through the gift shop. .
His face lights up.

The movie starts. Video enthusiasts Street Artists pasting posters or graffiti in the streets around the world keep coming at breakneck speed on the song Tonight The Streets Are Bear . Then Banksy, with his face hidden and his voice metallic mounting, sits facing the camera. He began to introduce ourselves Thierry Guetta. Thierry is a French a little odd that had a vintage shop in Los Angeles Tshirts and filming everything, all the time. Thierry said: "I filming anything and everything, I never stopped. Because I felt like I lived every moment was unique and I do not want him escapes me. " In the 1990s during a trip to France, he discovered the works of his cousin's Street Art Space Invader, and begins to film the excitement felt by the artists of this nascent movement. Then Thierry

befriends and wins full confidence of the great and mysterious Banksy, the British star of Street Art, which provides no information on his true identity. And then, suddenly, at about half of the film: turnaround: Banksy realizes, after asking Thierry Guetta make a documentary about the rise of street art with everything he shot, that Thierry is not a film maker with an artistic sense but a "madman with a camera" and he asked her to return to LA and to make street art instead of filming. It is far to imagine that Thierry Guetta will drift quickly from street art to produce works aesthetically close to the street art but from a logical megalomaniac sold as food to the media (people like artists megalomaniac) and very far from the first philosophy of motion Street Art. He exhibits including a huge gallery of works that were created solely for the gallery and not primarily in the street. He then explains that he does is great because by scanning an image and editing using just Photoshop, you can then sell several thousand dollars. Finally Mr Brainwash (his stage name) says he wants Brainwasher people with things that mean nothing, not necessarily message, but which provides an additional aesthetic into their daily lives morose.

Review diversion of the primary values of art and the artist, Make examines the wall with an intrepidity detonating the springs of the business and the media when they attack the art to make economic data . There is so much intelligence in this film we can not help thinking that Mr. Brainwash, or at least its soaring Hollywood, is a creation of any piece of Banksy who loves to play with the identity, his first. Is approached in this film documentary perfect, the hold-up carefully prepared, without scruples and succeeded. A " not care me peace " royal flights to all who are trying to discover who is Banksy and snapped shots of his work at five "0" in the auction rooms. It was the cap - but little megalomania - for reaching a documentary to give air. Banksy's art, just confused at the peak of its strength.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

What Does One Nipple Pierced Mean On A Woman

The artist and the bug; Wajdi Mouawad

"The beetle is an insect that feeds on feces other animals larger than itself. The intestines of these animals make believed everything he had learned from the food eaten by the animal. However, the beetle is, within what has been rejected, the food necessary for survival through an intestinal tract whose precision, finesse and an incredible sensitivity surpasses that of any mammal. These droppings which it feeds, the beetle takes the substance suitable for the production of this shell so magnificent that he knows who our next moves: the jade green beetle from China, red purple beetle from Africa, the jet black beetle in Europe and the treasure of gold bug, mythical between all found, mystery of mysteries.

An artist is a beetle that found in the feces of the same company, the food needed to produce works that fascinate and upset his fellow men. The artist, like a beetle, feeds on shit in the world for which he works, and this food abject he succeeds, sometimes, to bring out the beauty. "

Wajdi Mouawad, artist (writer and theater) Canadian online text on its website .

Holly Willoughby Birthday

Fire, Denis Villeneuve , 2010

I'm exhausted, it's the middle of the night. Since I left the theater, my mouth in an arc pointing downward like old women Breton sailors. And staring into space. I need some time to get to the evidence that I can not do otherwise than writing after seeing a film of such intensity. Otherwise this blog would be meaningless.

Fire begins with a scene in which a sergeant in military dress shaved head of a young boy. This child has three dots tattooed on his right heel. He is the son of Nawal, a young Christian campaign whose brothers were killed mercilessly nationalist lover, a Muslim refugee named Wahab. Already this scene of horror movie chills us with its unexpected and sudden. The brothers come close to their sister and her Wahab they were caught fleeing the countryside and they shoot a bullet at point-blank in the head of a young man in front of Nawal. " You are a disgrace to our family ," say the brothers to their sister, little resistant to the urge to shoot him too. The film begins on a life shattered by Conflict of honor in a Middle Eastern family, itself in the grip of desperate Arab machismo.

But Nawal Wahab is pregnant. After several days of inconsolable sadness during which she mourns his misfortune without eating, Nawal decides to trust her grandmother who makes him realize that the only chance for her to escape is to entrust the child to a orphanage in the area and leave this place where the tragedy has already crushed part of his life. His grandmother says she can leave him with his uncle in Daresh (the capital of this imaginary country) where she can learn. The day the baby is born, before leaving the orphanage, the grandmother three dots tattooed on the right heel of the newborn boy, she shows her mother so she can find it. Then there are

Nawal, a few years later became a journalist in the student newspaper at the university that promotes inter-communal peace and therefore anti-nationalist. But the more it learns and older, Nawal wants to find his son. While the civil war broke out, and villages are destroyed in the south by the militias on both sides, Nawal takes the road to the orphanage South where her child had been entrusted, to discover that the building was attacked and he remains in ruins. Without despair, with unfailing determination, she continued her journey on foot. But up in the wrong bus, one that will change her life forever and who will lead a few years later, in squalid and inhumane prison policy FHAR Riyadh for 15 years, where, walking in his tiny cell for not succumbing to insanity, and singing to cover the sounds of torture suffered by other women, she becomes "the woman who sings . On his release from prison 15 years later his burden herself does not know yet really, is heavier than the rock of Sisyphus. After his death, in Canada, where Nawal spent the rest of his life, his two fraternal twins who grew up with her in America and know nothing about its history, and thus their own, will open up a will that will plunge into the the 15 years in prison and their mother in the relentless search of their father who is still alive.

We can not escape unscathed from Fire . Like the latter scene Life is Beautiful where the boy remained alive thanks to the sacrifice of his father threw himself into the arms of his mother shouting " we won! ", the outcome of Fire is a poetry so exceptional that it exudes a timeless force, which affects all humanity. The triumph of sweetness that ignominy. He had to go back to last summer and Eleni, earth crying Theo Angelopoulos for a film upsets me as much.

I can not describe this movie without my fins awarded gold for personal Wajdi Mouawad's genius history, but also to Denis Villeneuve, with a tremendous talent, managed to combine everything auteur cinema International subdue creativity and artistic freedom (editing, effects, cropping) to the rhythm and emotional force of a great Hollywood movie. The series of frames with eccentric plans, the focus of semi-fuzzy camera, and the brilliant semi-darkness to The Yards, in which Simon realizes that 1 and 1 were 1 and no 2 will remain etched in the sun in my memory as the name of Nawal on his coffin closed by the seal of truth.

Finally, the sacred fire of Lubna Azabal antigonien which gives character to the character of Nawal. Since James Spalder recently discovered in Sex, Lies and Videos (Golden Palm 1989), few players have given me such a strong impression of their character, completely, body and soul, totally forgetting the camera, which to quote Michael Caine during his master class two weeks ago at the Forum des Images, is the best compliment one can give an actor.

Fire is a spark that blew the heart.

Friday, January 14, 2011

Can I Grow Saffron In The North East

Relax a little atmosphere Romain Gary

'- In our case, "he said heavily. Do not bilez, Rainier. My lawyers are paid too much: then, they give importance by slow
.(...) He laughed silent .(...)
- Come on, hello. He will see us more often. By the way, you know what I told them, in Bologna? In the middle strike and a municipality with communist?
His face lit up and suddenly found a youthful look almost childlike. Even her curls seemed less gray.
- They made me shit, fight with their classes, their policy and blah-blah-blah ... Then I met a prince, two marquis and some Italian countess - I had to pay a fortune because they farted for fear - and we did a demo. We put signs "attention, work" in a street in Bologna, and it was a picnic with caviar, champagne and pheasant in the middle of the floor, with clothes, evening dresses and butler! It was a hit. They still show-cons. We spent a night at the office. Fascist provocation, you understand. Shit, all I wanted to do is relax a little air, put some good humor in there. But you're talking! Go to the revoyure, man.
- Ciao , Jim. You speak French really admirable.
- We do what we can.
He went away, hands in pockets, leaning slightly forward, one step soft of the gods of the stadium. "

Romain Gary, Beyond this limit your ticket is no longer valid , 1975.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Change Russian To English Mw2

Getting lost in Paris, Spring of Poets in the Saint Sulpice metro

Memories of a random visit to Paris Sunday, Jan. 2. Departure from Montparnasse station and then metro to Saint Sulpice, a small exploration of St Germain des Pres and the Museum of the Middle Ages, before taking the direction of the prison to see the exhibition "Monuments , Stars of the 7th Art ". Output side trip along the Seine Conciergerie, before passing the courthouse and its small square and then on the Pont Neuf, turning left on the banks of the Seine, passing through the courtyard of the Louvre, where thousands of tourists line up, then through the Jardin des Tuileries, Place de la Concorde right to rue Royale, left rue du Faubourg Saint Honore, while right up to the Elysee, then return from the Metro Miromesnil.

Incidentally, exhibitions of poetry poets Spring 2009 on the theme of the city, metro Saint Sulpice:

Getting lost - Tribute to Jean Tardieu

We get lost without being seen, we
seen and lost.
It is barely visible,
it has hardly seen
we do not know,
we do not know.

We lost scarcely seen.
Barely seen, it is lost.
Just lost, see ya.

It is not lost.

Dominique November 12, 2008 Dodger.


Unpublished Poem

I love the city and its busy
And their incandescent lights
When they smile occasionally
a passer
If I happen to be passing this
I plunged back into adolescence, for a moment

The city has at times
Beautiful sunsets
That is invented a smile, looking
The beauty of another smile
Who leaves a bit of youth starting afresh

I love the city and its unknown shores
Where we landed without knowing
If we swim, if it floats
So let's drop
hours ago
indistinguishable in places that do not exist anymore

Or And neither victims nor perpetrators
Have sudden sense of time

The city is full of chances
Who we are building a life
And these passions, these restless
This is the life that clashes
And desires that swirl is
better than boredom silent
There is always a wharf, bar
The silhouette of a girl
The echoes of laughter of children

The city where all people are unaware
Without taking time to exist
She knows intimate moments
There are looks that come alive
And friends in cafes
This city that devours us
She evenings protracted
And the sweetness knows
She likes to win undecided
hours and moments of eternity

Matthias Vincenot.

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Hotel de Paris, Lorient

Here is a text for love places that have lost their lives. Nobody notices them and yet they surround us with all their sadness. The sadness of no longer living, to paraphrase Lino Ventura. They are everywhere in the country, in our neighborhoods but also in our inner cities.

J'me strolled in the town where I grew up.
" It is beautiful this coffee Vauban"
" is where your father reads his newspaper and his coffee is "
tastes are passed from father to son.

" Hotel And next? What is it? Hotel de Paris, yet it is a nice name; and more up Alsace-Lorraine ... is made worse as the location . "

Back to domus. As far back as the paterfamilias remember, years after the war where he was from the Saint Louis School Bisson off until today when he sits sometimes on the terrace at his side , this hotel never had the flaps open. Its rooms still feel the fear of aerial bombardment and its windows were the last to see people running with large suitcases and start cycling in the countryside to buy a large loaf of bread, sliced meat or vegetables. The phone number on the door of the building is still 6 figures while a book reservations throne on a table in the lobby.

And I am weak in front of this building, so small. " If you knew how I would like to visit you, my dear. " I feel helpless. It must be my old-fashioned side that knocked my arm compassion. My curiosity still gives me enough strength to take the fingertips of one picture which may have been granted for 60 years.

disused buildings are small pantheons of human presence, better than the great Parisian caught up in one's imagination and memories cascaded by inflicting a trip back. Hopefully one day life will resume its colors, removes rust components, and allows me to cross the old butler over coffee.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

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There is always a castle, Romain Gary made

"- What dreams are you, Jacques?
- On the impossible. Come. We must go. It's getting late.

We went to the boat and I put the oars. My pretty figurehead stood before me in his part of a very pale blue, gliding among the clouds, his hat on his knees. This hat, really, life was beautiful.
- Why are you always dressed the same way, Jacques, a little Humphrey Bogart, hat and all, like your pictures of thirty years ago?
- I do not know. Loyalty, I suppose. Or the illusion of always look myself. Or, cleverly, this search for I know not what that throws an old-fashioned way. (...)

My gaze wandered beyond her, beyond the horizon. I searched the castles, there's always one waiting for you at a crossroads. I do not know why I felt the need of solemn stone. There was where sandbanks with their air potbellied fish out of water. Sometimes, beyond the hills, the tip of a steeple which spoke of humble graves. I stood up to see farther, but there was nothing. I was rowing and standing, to Laura, who always shrank. The light was pale with her acquaintances transparent complicity of a woman, soft and white, the water gave way to the boat and the wake sympathetic closed behind us like a curtain falling .(...)

- How much further?
- I do not know.
- Are not you tired?
- I am indestructible.
- What are you looking at?
- The Castle.
She turned to the sky line.
- There is no castle.
- There's always one. "

Romain Gary, Beyond this limit your ticket is no longer valid , 1975.

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Hours of lifetimes; Romain Gary

"I climbed into the apartment, the door was closed, I knocked but received no response. I called the maid and made me open it. The bed was still unmade. On the pillow, a sheet of paper:

" There are moments, hours made of lifetimes of happiness which should not be able to survive. Romantic, I know, and if Brazilian, but what you give me can not be said with tears of another time, and words ancien regime, and I speak as an age where life still had court poets. Now, life has ceased to reign, and nobody dares to talk about an air of happiness. She lost his singers, his court poets, priests, her stories, celebrants, because life is gone out of fashion: he is alleged to be hard, indifferent, absurd, unjust, feudal, and in fact does Has it not right, when you think she gave me my happiest moments in an apartment for five hundred francs a day at the Plaza Hotel ? Honey, I saw you just now coming out, you were accompanied by a stern-looking man and I told myself that this is an official reality sent Jacques to hold him accountable, to ask about this way of cheating that is to be happy. And yes, there is something outrageous, scandalous, in our love of privileged because the happiness of a couple still running backs in the world, and I'm afraid. I went back into the room to write this, and I lingered, I look at the unmade bed, the curtains drawn, the room where you should not touch anything, ever, keep it as is, until a woman so happy that I finally told in a thousand years: "You can clear the tracks, make the order is saved ... " Laura. "

I wanted the letter to hand and listened to the song of silence. Long after, as the seconds went by had lost their message, I wore the sheet to my lips as fifty years ago just when I was told - it was a joke - that the cut flowers last longer in their vessel if they gave a kiss every morning. I remained lying on his back without moving, keeping me well, by a rash gesture, to regain myself, with all that that implies experience, derision, futility and reason. "

Romain Gary, Beyond this limit your ticket is no longer valid , 1975.

Monday, January 10, 2011

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Americans; Romain Gary

"All our" progress "at this moment in politics or elsewhere, stories of spare parts ... Tricks sex shop ...

I had never come to Paris - the Latin side who fears to acknowledge defeat, a "formerly" in the eyes of the seller, but during my last trip to New York, I am went out of curiosity. Americans can not bear the idea of the problem without solution. They are less capable than other people to coexist peacefully with all that is insoluble in around them and themselves. The "human condition" within the meaning of irremediable and failure, the rush among psychiatrists in a race toward replacement power, money and world records. The greatest danger for the world would the American impotence. The dildo has always existed, but at home he became nuclear. They go into sex shops at home and the plumber with the dignity of a man in self defense. The Americans have not yet used to being defeated. They refuse to bow their heads to the limits. "

Romain Gary, Beyond this limit your ticket is no longer valid , 1975.

Monday, January 3, 2011

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A gypsy Eve

Almost an hour ahead Gate Champerret. It's cold, there is a sign "Cirque Romanes," we return. On the table in the entrance where I entrust my ticket, the Alexander Romance novels published in the NRF impress me. We're in a circus, but not any. The soul of this circus, gypsy soul is that of a large family, dancing, flying, climbs, slips, scratching the strings, running around, kissing, singing. Mom's founding in the early last 2 years in shiny gray suit and tie with his magician's wand for teat. I watch from the stands the life of this little world is warming before the show's Eve 2010. I see they do not repeat, they laugh; " anyway we gonna do the show tonight to all those people is that we are doing every night, it's natural, is our life. It's the atmosphere that changes every night. "I whisper in his ear they unknowingly.

Suddenly the forum fills up like a anthill, unbroken by waves of spectators. The musicians launch into a pace that nobody could stop inertia, to the delight of all. Here is a circus of poets.

The acrobats, jugglers, dancers, virevolteurs fun and we feast. Pause. We leave the cases of sparkling wine in the middle of the runway here is a flute, then two, and ... I ressere? Later, please. Break dancing - our smiles in the eyes and lenses on our lips - the show is over and over again! If you can go back in the bleachers. Women dance, choreographed in groups pyramid, arms revolve around loose dresses colored palms and slamming on his knees gypsy dance is the male power and speed combined with the sublime feminine grace.

One hour show, then half past one public dance on the track turned into a circus dancefloor, and that's life. In my moments of pause, what amazes me is this incredible force that comes out of them. Each of them. There are 400 people around them, but it does not even notice as the children run in all directions, both musicians sing every tune with a smile. Their eyes look, they are reaching out to audiences in refugee the stands and brought back on track. It's their night. It's magic. It is perhaps 400 from elsewhere, but it's Eve's Eve is a folk, and it is there or not, whatever: the gypsy community is celebrating not to stop. 3h, 4h, 5h in the morning. What time?

The time of joy and good humor.