Sunday, 9 January 2011
Lie To Me
Just watched 4 episodes of Lie To Me consecutively, was a highly enjoyable experience. Why am I such a sucker for relatively awful crime drama? I don't know if this is more or less credible than Criminal Minds. Um, I'm going to go with less. I find 40 something, lie-detecting Tim Roth extremely sexy. Or is he 50? Scottish, Irish, Cajun...out of all the (imho) sexy accents, you can't beat a good English accent. I have to say, men old enough to be my dad aren't usually my type, so I'm inexperienced at dealing with this type of guilt...nah, fuck it, I would. I think I have in fact had a bit of a thing for Tim Roth since Pulp Fiction so at least I can say it started before he got old.
Saturday, 8 January 2011
Lime Crime
Check THIS out: http://www.limecrimemakeup.com/
Vegan make up for out there lips and eyes. Top marks.
Vegan make up for out there lips and eyes. Top marks.
RSC Productions
What's My Age Again? just came on the radio - could you have a better start to the day? Hopefully it'll only get better, as I have a party tonight and the weekend straight after. Also, I have alot to do at the moment and if there's any feeling I can't stand it's having nothing to do. And, it's all stuff I actually want to do, not a mountain of shitty work.
Anyway, I've seen six RSC productions so far and will be seeing three more soon, so it's reached the point where I can really appreciate their production (as well as feel completely at home at the Roundhouse). I think overall, the best RSC production I've seen is of The Winter's Tale, one of Shakespeare's lesser-known plays. It's so rich and varied, and the casting is spot on. A subtly warm, intimate atmosphere pervades the production and it boasts a few breathtaking moments, like when a gigantic, stage-spanning bookcase is slowly tipped and all the books crash to the floor, and when the bear that eats Antigonus emerges from the wings in the form of a giant paper puppet...Seeing Greg Hicks as Leontes in The Winter's Tale was a great preliminary to seeing him as Julius Caesar the other night. They're roles which have substantial similarities and are both really suited to him - he has quite a harsh, angular look to him which really highlights the arrogance of both characters.
I noticed a huge contrast between the productions of The Winter's Tale and Julius Caesar, which I love as it provides a clear display of both extremes of RSC production, at their best. Whilst The Winter's Tale was vibrant, colourful, romantic, and despite some modern costumes, very much period in feel, Julius Caesar was much harder, grittier, and modern in style, despite the entirely period wardrobe. For Julius Caesar, the set was sparse and minimalist, with electronic display screens (or projection screens - I'm not sure which) showing video, providing the backdrop of the stage. At first I didn't like this but it grew on me and by the end of the play, I definitely got it. I think it gives the production a modern edge that's fitting to the harsh, quite ugly content of the play...no reunited families or pastoral idylls going on there.
I can see how this production of Julius Caesar would be more of an acquired taste than The Winter's Tale, but it happens to be a taste I definitely have. Julius Caesar is one for the men, it's an extremely masculine play set in a masculine world with only two female characters in it. What this production brings out is that Julius Caesar is a gritty, political drama that has a lot in common with many modern crime or gangster films that take a matter-of-fact view of violence and revenge. It's a masculine taste. Reservoir Dogs is a film that sprang to mind many times throughout the performance of Julius Caesar - it maintains the same detached, bleak tone throughout all kinds of calamity. I thought the last scene of Reservoir Dogs was thoroughly Shakespearean. The Mexican standoff, the death of most of the main characters...Orange dies in White's arms as they both go down in a hail of bullets - if that's not Shakespearean tragedy transposed into the modern world, I don't know what is. Critics say that one of Tarantino's failures as a director is his failure to evoke sympathy for his characters, but I disagree that he fails to do this, and I also disagree that the lack of pathos in some of his films works to his disadvantage. I cried at the end of Reservoir Dogs...I think by the end of the film we understand each character so well that however unlikeable they are, we fully grasp the tragedy of the situation, in all its depth. But I digress.
Anyhow, Julius Caesar is now a serious contender for my favourite Shakespeare play. I think if I was to analyze my reasons for that, one would be that it's utterly lacking in romance. It would be a far cry from the truth to say that I avoid romance in theatre, but when it is missing from a play, in a way, it does make it easier to watch and enjoy. It's easier to detach yourself from the play entirely, without the discomfort of having to invest yourself in it emotionally, as its one less thing to relate to. And that this one thing is romance means there's a hell of a lot less to relate to. I speak for many people when I say that the mental compartment of romance contains a wealth of emotional landmines. You're taken on a more carefree journey. Also, I don't tend to prioritise romance in art in general. On the whole, I think there are more important and interesting issues in the world.
I just ate the most wasabified pea ever, I couldn't see any pea. My mouth stings.
What I'm Listening To: Young Guns - Weight of The World. Love this single.
Kings Of Leon - Pyro. A Kings' single I like, never thought I'd see the day.
More than like actually...I can really visualize rocking out to this in a festival
environment.
Also a note on the xmas no. 1. Matt Cardle - Many of Horror, When we Collide, whatever. X Factor? Biffy Clyro? My morals are so confused. I guess we could've done worse...
Anyway, I've seen six RSC productions so far and will be seeing three more soon, so it's reached the point where I can really appreciate their production (as well as feel completely at home at the Roundhouse). I think overall, the best RSC production I've seen is of The Winter's Tale, one of Shakespeare's lesser-known plays. It's so rich and varied, and the casting is spot on. A subtly warm, intimate atmosphere pervades the production and it boasts a few breathtaking moments, like when a gigantic, stage-spanning bookcase is slowly tipped and all the books crash to the floor, and when the bear that eats Antigonus emerges from the wings in the form of a giant paper puppet...Seeing Greg Hicks as Leontes in The Winter's Tale was a great preliminary to seeing him as Julius Caesar the other night. They're roles which have substantial similarities and are both really suited to him - he has quite a harsh, angular look to him which really highlights the arrogance of both characters.
I noticed a huge contrast between the productions of The Winter's Tale and Julius Caesar, which I love as it provides a clear display of both extremes of RSC production, at their best. Whilst The Winter's Tale was vibrant, colourful, romantic, and despite some modern costumes, very much period in feel, Julius Caesar was much harder, grittier, and modern in style, despite the entirely period wardrobe. For Julius Caesar, the set was sparse and minimalist, with electronic display screens (or projection screens - I'm not sure which) showing video, providing the backdrop of the stage. At first I didn't like this but it grew on me and by the end of the play, I definitely got it. I think it gives the production a modern edge that's fitting to the harsh, quite ugly content of the play...no reunited families or pastoral idylls going on there.
I can see how this production of Julius Caesar would be more of an acquired taste than The Winter's Tale, but it happens to be a taste I definitely have. Julius Caesar is one for the men, it's an extremely masculine play set in a masculine world with only two female characters in it. What this production brings out is that Julius Caesar is a gritty, political drama that has a lot in common with many modern crime or gangster films that take a matter-of-fact view of violence and revenge. It's a masculine taste. Reservoir Dogs is a film that sprang to mind many times throughout the performance of Julius Caesar - it maintains the same detached, bleak tone throughout all kinds of calamity. I thought the last scene of Reservoir Dogs was thoroughly Shakespearean. The Mexican standoff, the death of most of the main characters...Orange dies in White's arms as they both go down in a hail of bullets - if that's not Shakespearean tragedy transposed into the modern world, I don't know what is. Critics say that one of Tarantino's failures as a director is his failure to evoke sympathy for his characters, but I disagree that he fails to do this, and I also disagree that the lack of pathos in some of his films works to his disadvantage. I cried at the end of Reservoir Dogs...I think by the end of the film we understand each character so well that however unlikeable they are, we fully grasp the tragedy of the situation, in all its depth. But I digress.
Anyhow, Julius Caesar is now a serious contender for my favourite Shakespeare play. I think if I was to analyze my reasons for that, one would be that it's utterly lacking in romance. It would be a far cry from the truth to say that I avoid romance in theatre, but when it is missing from a play, in a way, it does make it easier to watch and enjoy. It's easier to detach yourself from the play entirely, without the discomfort of having to invest yourself in it emotionally, as its one less thing to relate to. And that this one thing is romance means there's a hell of a lot less to relate to. I speak for many people when I say that the mental compartment of romance contains a wealth of emotional landmines. You're taken on a more carefree journey. Also, I don't tend to prioritise romance in art in general. On the whole, I think there are more important and interesting issues in the world.
I just ate the most wasabified pea ever, I couldn't see any pea. My mouth stings.
What I'm Listening To: Young Guns - Weight of The World. Love this single.
Kings Of Leon - Pyro. A Kings' single I like, never thought I'd see the day.
More than like actually...I can really visualize rocking out to this in a festival
environment.
Also a note on the xmas no. 1. Matt Cardle - Many of Horror, When we Collide, whatever. X Factor? Biffy Clyro? My morals are so confused. I guess we could've done worse...
Wednesday, 5 January 2011
Leigh Bowery
Leigh Bowery was often a nude model for the painter Lucian Freud, I'm currently making sketches of some of Freud's paintings of him. That's how I heard of him, but I'm starting to disover that Bowery was totally an artist in his own right, and a pretty extraordinary public persona. I have a feeling I'd have heard of Bowery before long after I turned 18 anyway, since I think the majority of his legacy lies in the clubbing industry. Fashion designer, model, club promoter, actor, performance artist, pop star, transvestite. Wikipedia has this to say: "Eventually he was making a name for himself by dramatic performances of dance, music, and extreme exhibitionism, while wearing bizarre and very original outfits of his own design."
This guy truly lived fast and died hard. He died of AIDS in 1994 after becoming a central figure of the 1980s and 90s London art and fashion scene...it's amazing looking into this man's history and style as I can see the impact of his life in so much of the culture I surround myself with. Alexander McQueen, Vivienne Westwood, Boy George, Anthony and the Johnsons, John Galliano, Jean Paul Gaultier, the Scissor Ssiters...and of course Lucian Freud.
He once said "I want to be the Andy Warhol of London", which says alot to me, being a devout Warhol fan as well as a fan of alot of 21st century British art. Boy George commented he was "Modern Art on legs". What an exciting life, and in such a short space of time...All in all, major respect to Leigh Bowery, and R.I.P. to him too.
Whinging Ahoy
What is UP with The Pretty Reckless' new single? Taylor, I'm disappointed in you. However, I do hate how everybody's dissing Taylor Momsen's new look - "she's trying too hard to be kooky" they say LOOK AT YOURSELF with your faux kooky knitwear!! Arrr! More than that it annoys me that anyone would condemn 'trying to be kooky' - I mean...seriously dodgy levels of conformity going on there. If someone decides they want to look a bit more edgy, its's not necessarily pretentiousness, its's called self-expression. Oh, and what happens in a free country.
Plus, it saddens me that there's still a stigma attached to punk fashion...even in arty circles, alot of people still haven't accepted anything more eccentric than the 'wannabe indie' look as stylish. There's more than one style in which to be stylish, people, is diversity really that hard to stomach? I'm not expressing any surprise here, of course I don't think that these prejudices are somehow magically absent from our generation...Oh well, it's always worth complaining :)
Plus, it saddens me that there's still a stigma attached to punk fashion...even in arty circles, alot of people still haven't accepted anything more eccentric than the 'wannabe indie' look as stylish. There's more than one style in which to be stylish, people, is diversity really that hard to stomach? I'm not expressing any surprise here, of course I don't think that these prejudices are somehow magically absent from our generation...Oh well, it's always worth complaining :)
Tuesday, 4 January 2011
Mood Change One
Having been quite detached from the contemporary British art scene for a while, I found out today that a certain piece of information had escaped my attention until now. On May 24th 2004 there was a fire in a London warehouse packed with famous paintings, including alot of 'Britart'. Of this I'd been vaguely aware, but I only just discovered that one of my favourite works of art was one of the paintings destroyed in the fire...God, how sad....It's 'Mood Change One', one of the earlier works by Irish pop artist Michael Craig Martin.
When I look at early classical paintings by artists like Reynolds, all drenched in bitumen, they're utterly dead to me. Why you'd want to weigh down your painting with such oppressive colours as muddy browns and swamp greens is beyond me. Was it an attempt to capture some kind of austerity, or sobriety? Or realism, dare I say? What a bleak perception of reality. What tragic misuse of such technical skill to use it on comissioned portraits and historical paintings.
'Mood Change One' inspires in me a reaction of the polar opposite kind. The first time I saw it, I didn't know if I'd ever seen any work of art that looked more alive and human and ecstatic and angry - and everything I need from art. It seems to hold your head in a vice and demand that you stare into the face of humanity. 'Look at my coat, look at my mirror, look at my shoes, look at this list of all the tiny, pathetic things that make up who I am - see how endlessly beautiful they are?' That's what it says to me. To me, out of all the attempts made throughout the ages, the most accurate depiction of a life, on a page, is a painting of a collection of household items. Does that say I think we're shallow, feeble and materialistic? Maybe, but Martin succeeds where so many others try and fail - he succeeds in instilling all this with intense joie de vivre, in communicating the glory of this materialistic everyday life and the worth of daily, mundane objects. No mastery of tone and colour could result in celebration of a subject like the flat, blinding red of that jacket.
How can I have such confidence in my own personal interpretation of this piece? This piece that isn't well known at all? All art is subjective, therefore, I believe all I need to know is, if I was going to try and create a masterpiece that expressed a few essential truths, this is what I'd create. Sad Martin got there first really...
I don't know whether this piece means the same to him, and the irony is it probably doesn't, but that's the beauty of the whole shebang...
I read in an interview with Martin that he said he could never try to recreate this piece, which is completely fair. He says the 'psychological act of recreation is a 100% different act than the act of creation' and that it was the act of creation that counted for this particular painting -there'd be no point recreating it. I totally get that, so I suppose all that's left to do is get over this, and eagerly anticipate whatever this guy does next... :)
When I look at early classical paintings by artists like Reynolds, all drenched in bitumen, they're utterly dead to me. Why you'd want to weigh down your painting with such oppressive colours as muddy browns and swamp greens is beyond me. Was it an attempt to capture some kind of austerity, or sobriety? Or realism, dare I say? What a bleak perception of reality. What tragic misuse of such technical skill to use it on comissioned portraits and historical paintings.
'Mood Change One' inspires in me a reaction of the polar opposite kind. The first time I saw it, I didn't know if I'd ever seen any work of art that looked more alive and human and ecstatic and angry - and everything I need from art. It seems to hold your head in a vice and demand that you stare into the face of humanity. 'Look at my coat, look at my mirror, look at my shoes, look at this list of all the tiny, pathetic things that make up who I am - see how endlessly beautiful they are?' That's what it says to me. To me, out of all the attempts made throughout the ages, the most accurate depiction of a life, on a page, is a painting of a collection of household items. Does that say I think we're shallow, feeble and materialistic? Maybe, but Martin succeeds where so many others try and fail - he succeeds in instilling all this with intense joie de vivre, in communicating the glory of this materialistic everyday life and the worth of daily, mundane objects. No mastery of tone and colour could result in celebration of a subject like the flat, blinding red of that jacket.
How can I have such confidence in my own personal interpretation of this piece? This piece that isn't well known at all? All art is subjective, therefore, I believe all I need to know is, if I was going to try and create a masterpiece that expressed a few essential truths, this is what I'd create. Sad Martin got there first really...
I don't know whether this piece means the same to him, and the irony is it probably doesn't, but that's the beauty of the whole shebang...
I read in an interview with Martin that he said he could never try to recreate this piece, which is completely fair. He says the 'psychological act of recreation is a 100% different act than the act of creation' and that it was the act of creation that counted for this particular painting -there'd be no point recreating it. I totally get that, so I suppose all that's left to do is get over this, and eagerly anticipate whatever this guy does next... :)
Monday, 3 January 2011
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