Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles

So I must express that I was completely ignorant about the history associated with this movie and that it ended up on my netflix queue was completely coincidental. My inital draw to this film was that it's of Belgian origin and that it's set in the capital of Brussels. For my own reasons this was a big selling point. Other than that, the idea of a story about a woman who prostitutes her body to maintain an income for herself and her teenage boy, seemed like a highly controversial, though maybe to some extent understandable plot; one that may even bring forth sympanthy from a more sensitive heart. After seeing this film this simplistic idea was completely vanquished.

So I set sail on the Jeanne Dielman ship and within the first 10 minutes am confronted with utter anxiety at the tediousness of this film, as it shows the mundane routine, with complete neglect for dialogue, of this middle-aged woman. However, I felt this film must have a deeper meaning, and I must and will sit through the three hours of repetition until I could extract (or later read about) it. As I suffer through the first part, I can hear a reproachful voice (which belongs to someone I know) "you're so pretentious, this movie sucks, why do you want to watch it, cause every art critic says that you should??" The answer is "Yes". But I know there is something there, there is someting hidden that only the truly sensitive and open can capture, and once you learn what it is, everything falls into place.


Chantal Akerman is a Belgian-Jewish filmmaker born in Brussels, Belgium in 1950 of Polish-Jewish parents. She enrolled in the Belgian film school INSAS at an early age, and produced this film, her most popular at the age of 25. Her work is mostly known for it's minimalist and dry narrative, that intentionally creates a dreary emptiness through which, with a bit of patience and anxiety, surges a deeper meaning. When I think of this process I think of Yogic practice. In meditation, it is through the stillness of the mind, the void, which wisdom surges. This is the experience. It demands from it's audience a certain sensibility, a curiosity for the humane, and an interest in the very physicality of action that we exercise daily without thought. It is this curiosity made into an aesthetic. Without this sensibility, this film would seem absurd. Her point of view is unique, shown through a distant though highly observant lense. Jeanne Dielman lives her life without interference, we merely observe and cannot be heard. Our desires are not answered in this film, we are powerless.

And so here is Jeanne Dielman, a lonely single mother, trying to make it through life, following precisely the same footsteps day after day. A sure way to extract any sense of desire, to live mechanically without emotion. She is outside herself. Until one day, that existence seizes to be.

So What Now?!?!?

Yes.... so what now?!?!?!

It's been a very long time since I have jotted down a few words in the name of my intellectual vanity, and I will not stand (lie or sit....you'll never know) and pretend that it was anything other than pure sluggishness.

Yes.... well let's see what this new post will bring. New energy, expectation, anticipation, discipline....but then again, who am I kidding....who reads this blog anyway. But as they say "actions speak louder than words" so lets just leave it at that.

Bob Gruen @ The Morrison Hotel on the Bowery

Calling all music fans! And, if you're a photography lover, a megaphone may be necessary!

While casually strolling down the bowery I happened to stumble upon the exhibit at the Morrison Hotel, CBGB's former gallery, featuring legendary rock photographer Bob Gruen. If you do not recognize his name, surely you'll recognize his images. An appropriate venue considering Gruen's subject matter, many of whom are the offspring of the punk rock haven that preceded the current resident.

Bob Gruen is a native New Yorker who began photographing the music scene in the mid 60's. Although he remains an active musical photographer, he is mostly recognized for documenting the Punk and New Wave scenes of the 70's and early 80's. His photographs are textural and emulate an intensity and realism void in many of the music images captured today. His body of work owes it's size and quality to varying factors, among them his former position as a photographer for Rock Scene and Creem, two highly esteemed publications which documented the Punk Rock scene in the US and in England in the 70's and 80's. In addition, he toured heavily with bands, commissioned at times by the record labels, and at others by the bands themselves, a consequence of the friendly relationships he maintained with these musicians affording him an all access backstage pass and invitations to the events which ensued their live performances. He also served as John Lennon and Yoko Ono's personal photographer during their years in New York. The abundance of live and impromptu snapshots are astounding. They tell the story of the musicians he photographed and the scene that they inhabited.

Displayed at The Morrison Hotel on the Bowery, is a formal exhibit titled Rockers, a show originally presented in 2007 at the FAAP University Museum in Sao Paolo, Brazil where it attracted over 40,000 visitors. Wander in and you'll be informally introduced to The Sex Pistols, New York Dolls, Patti Smith, Blondie, The Clash, The Ramones, in addition to many more musicians of diverse genre and era.

The Morrison Hotel Gallery is an institution founded in 2001 by former record company executive and producer Peter Blachley, former independent record store owner Rich Horowitz and music photographer Henry Diltz. It is dedicated to showcasing fine art music photography. They have several galleries, two of which can be found in Soho and one on the Bowery in New York City, as well as two in California , in La Jolla and Los Angeles.


Finally, for all of you who are hardcore, you can purchase prints made from the original negative or transparency printed and signed by the photographer. Some of the prints are sold in Limited Edition.
Prices as follows:

8x10 $350
11x14 $800
16x20 $1000
20x24 $1600
30x40 $3000
40x50 $5000

Bob Gruen Exhibit
Morrison Hotel Gallery
Bowery NYC
313 Bowery
NYC
212.677.2253

Hours:
Noon - 7pm (Sun - Wed)
Noon - 9pm (Thurs - Sat)
Closed on Mondays

Retro Song of the Week- The Sunscreen Song

After driving the whole day in a rental car being submitted to the repetitiveness of what is advertised to be broadly diverse satellite radio, I realize that I will have to submit myself to the tough self-disciplinary act of leaving the station where it is, on a 90's hits station.

Having lived the latter part of my teenage years and the early part of my twenties in this decade, I remember why my music memory is so fuzzy. There really wasn't anything worth remembering. I must be clear and state that the majority of the songs being played on this "90's" station belonged to the second half of the decade. It would be silly of me not to excluded the early nineties, as it is a time that I am incredibly fond of mostly because of the delightful nostalgia brought forth when I hear the grungy tunes that were the soundtrack of my days in Lima. The tunes that WERE playing on the radio belonged to the late nineties. It is not my intention to bring back these horrific memories but perhaps some of you remember the teenage anthem "...Baby One More Time" or the hip shakin' Latin groove "Livin' La Vida Loca".

So you can imagine the relief when I heard the following tune. It is popularly referred to as "The Sunscreen Song" but is officially titled Everybody is Free (To Wear Sunscreen). It was a hit the summer of '99 and my guess is because of it's originality. The positivity and simplicity of the speech spoken throughout the song placed in an appropriate sunny musical composition had widespread appeal.

At the time I didn't know who Baz Luhrmann was, he could have been the guy who was reciting the commencement speech in the song. However, with a little cultural polishing I now know that Baz Luhrmann is the famed Australian director, most popularly known for directing the flamboyantly theatrical films Romeo + Juliet and Moulin Rouge. He co-produced the song with Anton Monsted, together known as BLAM, who were also responsible for the musical production of Moulin Rouge. After having acquired the rights to use the speech itself, he hired Australian voice actor Lee Perry to recite the speech for the soundtrack, with background chorus vocals by Quindon Tarver.

The speech was originally written for the Chicago Tribune in a column that ran on June 1, 1997, authored by Mary Schmich, and originally titled "Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young".

Needless to say it provided the necessary charge of energy for me to re-assume the role of road trip music selector for the rest of our trip.

Lyrics

Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '99: Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you can imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blind side you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't know.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And then you do you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders. Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look like 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it.

Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more that it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

Experiencing "Les Chansons D'Amour"

In times of heart ache what better remedy than the melodic, painfully literal lyrics of a love song. It doesn't matter to whom the words and notes belong, what is necessary, is that pouring out of heart to feel that we are not mourning in solitude. This is what we can find in the musical Les Chansons D'Amour. It is a movie about the cycle of love, subtitled accordingly in three chapters: Le Départ (The Departure), L'Absence (the Absence), and Le Retour (The Return). All this while exploiting our dependence on music, through which many live their emotional losses.



Written and directed by Christophe Honoré, the director of Dans Paris, another film on the survival of fragmented love, the more positively light-hearted Les Chansons D’Amour will appeal to all romantics with a soft spot for love songs. Showcasing the Parisian urban landscape as a young lover’s playground, it did plenty to encourage my desire to move to Paris and throw myself into a new love cycle.

Credit for the poppy, breathy tunes can be given to a previous Honoré collaborator, Alex Beaupain. His songs are melodic, playful, light, poppy, and youthful not unlike the love portrayed in the film. Although most, if not all, of his songs pre-existed, it is testament to the universality of the ballad. It is why these songs exist at the moments of elevated emotion, it is when we need them most. It represents all of our love experiences to a certain degree, and each of us with differing sums of experience, can view this film in uniquely different ways. It is an easy film about the pain of loss without all the melodrama.



This is how I begin, tossed into the relationship of Ismael Bénoliel (Louis Garrel) and Julie Pommeraye (Ludivine Sagnier) only to find that I was standing in a ménage à trois avec Alice (Clotilde Hesme). Ismael and Julie have been together for 9 years and in their unhappy state of pseudo-marital boredom, Alice has been introduced in their attempts to either strengthen or rupture what seems a habitual form of love filled with familiar affection. Consisting only of a third of the movie this relationship is the driving factor on which the remainder of the film depends; The relationship that exists between Ismael and Julie, it's verity or it's illusionary existence. When living with love we forget the affects upon it’s departure. Sometimes the physical intolerability overshadows our emotional dependence, and only when that physicality is removed can we feel the overbearing pain of this dependency, regardless of whether the emotion was genuine or fantastical.

With Julie's "departure" comes the loss of the different forms of love that Julie represented; lover, sister, and daughter. Her family's grievance is manifested in their inability to let go of Ismael, as he represented all that was left of her. This is especially shown in the suffering of Julie's sister Jeanne (Chiara Mastroianni).



And what ever happened to Alice? Although Alice has her 15 minutes in the ring of love, her main purpose in this film is not to find love but to be the cushion that breaks everyone’s fall. From the beginning in her role as le "troisième" she is meant to be the glue which keeps Ismael and Julie together. Later, after Julie's departure, she becomes a source of consolation for Ismael, and after, passes to the hands of Julie's mother and sister as they say goodbye to Ismael, and consequently, to Julie.

As for Ismael, we come face to face with his way of coping, which turns into a test of character analysis and comprehension or for some, a test of plot credibility, in his attempt to withdraw her painful memory, in a very common, yet unconventional way: by replacing her with a new gay lover. In this way he re-enters the cycle of love.

Listen to Les Chansons D'Amour

Concerts - New York

Tapes 'n' Tapes
Friday, April 18, 2008
The Filmore New York at Irving Plaza
$14.50

The Verve
Monday, April 28, 2008
WaMu Theatre at Madison Square Garden
$40-$50

Los Campesinos
Thursday, May 19, 2008
Bowery Ballroom
$15

DeVotchKa
May 20, 2008
Terminal 5
$22.50 advance/$25 day of show

Dosh
May 23, 2008
Mercury Lounge
$10 advance/$12 day of show

Rilo Kiley
June 3, 2008
Terminal 5
$32.50 advance/$35 day of show
ON Sale 3/28/08 @ Noon

Yael Naim - Bowery Ballroom, New York

She filled the room with energy. She was beautiful, sparkly, seductive, teasing, playful, a song bird. I wouldn't have guessed that that petite frame wrapped in violet linen could exude such sounds, and that those long slender fingers could have the energy to stomp on the piano's ivory teeth so violently, lovingly, tenderly.
Her talent is so exhuberant that it charmed the boots off of me. Her live performance was beyond expectations and deserves a whole hearted recommendation to all who take pleasure in live talent. Her voice at times was operatic and at other with tones of jazz doo wop. Her most energetic and perhaps the most playful was her rendition of Britney Spear's Toxic to the delight of the mostly female early 20's crowd.