Thursday, April 30, 2009
Palladio at the Royal Academy
S. Giorgio Maggiore is the only building by Palladio I've been in, I think - although he did design other buildings in Venice. Its an extraordinary church, I was deeply impressed with his architectural usage of entasis - subtle curving - which enlivens the space. Working as he did from ancient Roman sources, I did not expect to see such an advanced grasp of the classical Greek aproach.
My friend Karen and I have planned for the longest time a trip to view the Palladian villas in the Veneto - I', very glad t=for the recent RA exhibition, which has re-ignited this ambition. I really enjoyed the mix of portraits and paitings, architectural models, artifacts, photographs and original plans and drawings. They even had digital constructions of Palladio's unrealised projects. Completely fascinating.
Artichoke Soup (or, Things to Do with Scallops)
In an impulse of curiosity, desiring to widen the culinary horizons, I purchased a pack of Jerusalem artichokes from Sainsbury’s. I think I last ate these at least ten years ago.
I also thought they were a good credit crunch option.
I consulted my recipe books. I hit gold in Simon Hopkinson’s “Roast Chicken and Other Stories”: Scallop and Artichoke Soup.
Now, scallops are definitely not credit crunch material - however, the project suddenly developed into a treat to boost the animal spirits in a recession! ;-)
Scallops would feature in my top three edible favourites; I would choose them as my last meal. I don’t think they are available in South Africa - the first time I ate a scallop was on a visit to my cousins in Vancouver. Instant heaven; the highlight of the trip!
Since then, I have eaten them whenever and wherever:from the deeply luxurious and classic French Scallops au gratin at Marco Pierre White’s Mirabelle Restaurant to the new Brit classic from Kensington Place, Grilled Scallops with Pea purée and mint vinaigrette.
Nigel Slater has a recipe where you wrap the individual scallops in bacon strips, dust down with parmesan shavings and grill. Yum!
But recently my fave scallop recipe has been Nigella Lawson’s Scallops and chorizo from Nigella Express - this counts as so fast and simple it’s hardly a recipe! - but soooo spectacularly delicious. Just chuck some chorizo slices in a pan, fry to release the oils, chuck the scallops in until cooked (timing is all; don’t over fry - literally a couple of minutes; just until the scallops are opaque); then toss with lemon juice and chopped parsley.
The salty, meaty chewiness of the chorizo sets off the subtle smooth sweetness of the scallops; and the lemon and parsely take the edge off the richness of the dish. Possibly this is my last meal request, and it’s so fast I might be able to have it twice in one sitting!
Back to Simon Hopkinson’s soup recipe. I don’t think you can go wrong with scallops. Ok, maybe not with chocolate.
The artichoke soup recipe trends in the opposite direction to Nigel’s and Nigella’s - instead of contrast it works on complementaries: piling one kind of semi-savoury sweetness on another.
The artichokes have a subtle, rich, complex flavour of their own. The soup is your classic French butter, milk and cream concoction (enriched with fish stock, onion, bay leaf and thyme). The artichokes are blended and strained to velvety smoothness and then the poached scallops are added. Parsley and croutons for garnish. Fab.U.Lous.
Maybe my last meal could be the artichoke soup to start and the chorizo and scallops for the main course?
I also thought they were a good credit crunch option.
I consulted my recipe books. I hit gold in Simon Hopkinson’s “Roast Chicken and Other Stories”: Scallop and Artichoke Soup.
Now, scallops are definitely not credit crunch material - however, the project suddenly developed into a treat to boost the animal spirits in a recession! ;-)
Scallops would feature in my top three edible favourites; I would choose them as my last meal. I don’t think they are available in South Africa - the first time I ate a scallop was on a visit to my cousins in Vancouver. Instant heaven; the highlight of the trip!
Since then, I have eaten them whenever and wherever:from the deeply luxurious and classic French Scallops au gratin at Marco Pierre White’s Mirabelle Restaurant to the new Brit classic from Kensington Place, Grilled Scallops with Pea purée and mint vinaigrette.
Nigel Slater has a recipe where you wrap the individual scallops in bacon strips, dust down with parmesan shavings and grill. Yum!
But recently my fave scallop recipe has been Nigella Lawson’s Scallops and chorizo from Nigella Express - this counts as so fast and simple it’s hardly a recipe! - but soooo spectacularly delicious. Just chuck some chorizo slices in a pan, fry to release the oils, chuck the scallops in until cooked (timing is all; don’t over fry - literally a couple of minutes; just until the scallops are opaque); then toss with lemon juice and chopped parsley.
The salty, meaty chewiness of the chorizo sets off the subtle smooth sweetness of the scallops; and the lemon and parsely take the edge off the richness of the dish. Possibly this is my last meal request, and it’s so fast I might be able to have it twice in one sitting!
Back to Simon Hopkinson’s soup recipe. I don’t think you can go wrong with scallops. Ok, maybe not with chocolate.
The artichoke soup recipe trends in the opposite direction to Nigel’s and Nigella’s - instead of contrast it works on complementaries: piling one kind of semi-savoury sweetness on another.
The artichokes have a subtle, rich, complex flavour of their own. The soup is your classic French butter, milk and cream concoction (enriched with fish stock, onion, bay leaf and thyme). The artichokes are blended and strained to velvety smoothness and then the poached scallops are added. Parsley and croutons for garnish. Fab.U.Lous.
Maybe my last meal could be the artichoke soup to start and the chorizo and scallops for the main course?
a trip to St Peter's, Cambridge
St Peter's, Cambridge has been around for a very long time, but the local community was slightly too ambitious when they came to build it: almost from the start it seems it was too large for the community to afford upkeep. The church was downsized (literally) in the 18th-century, but still fell into decay and neglect. When Jim Ede created Kettle's Yard, he also set about renovating and saving this church. It is now deconsecrated.
The doorway is Norman (11th, early 12th century). The inner column on the left is an 18th-century wooden replacement for the lost original. The church walls were built out of reclaimed rubble - the red bricks visible in the lower right are actually reclaimed roof tiles from ancient Roman buildings in the vicinity - the Roman fortress is nearby.
One can borrow the key to the church from the desk at Kettle's Yard and enter the tiny church.
St Peter's 11th/early 12th--century font has 'mermen' carved in each corner. Not a classic Christian motif; unless perhaps they are referring to fish imagery.
This is apparently the oldest surviving baptismal font in Cambridge.
Close-ups of the font carvings - these have seen almost 1000 years of babies being christened . . .
Jim Ede was a 20th-century aesthete, apparently the first modern art curator at the Tate, and the creator of Kettle's Yard in Cambridge: he transformed four cottages into an extraordinary space; a showcase for his modern art collection. He donated the whole thing to the University of Cambridge, and to this day it remains a remarkable ensemble of classic English craftsmanship and high modernist aesthetics. There is a memorial tablet to him in the church he helped save.
~ Jim Ede, A Way of Life: Kettle’s Yard, 1984
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Sex and the City (not)
"If you believe you are born gay, you are forced to be tolerant. But if you bring in choices, it changes everything."
It is this ominous quote from Joe Nicolosi, speaker at the recent “Gay Cure” conference 1, which seems to me to most clearly and succinctly delineate his bigotry.
Of course, people are born gay and as law-abiding citizens we deserve acceptance and equal rights. But, say - completely hypothetically speaking - if homosexuality was a choice, why does Dr Nicolosi think “it changes everything”? Again, as a free, autonomous and law-abiding citizen, I would expect society to respect my free choice to love whoever I want. Nicolosi has no right at all to judge me or intervene in any way in how I choose to live my life lawfully in a free society, especially over a choice which has no impact on him whatsoever.2
The ex-gay brigade’s failures of logic are just astonishing. If homosexuality is a ‘choice’, why does there need to be such a large and activist “reparative” industry to “change” people’s “choices”? ~ and what about the gay penguins, flamingos, bonobos and the 1000s of other animal species demonstrated to evince homosexuality quite naturally? How do they fit into his ridiculous, completely outdated and discredited Freudian ideas of how gayness comes about?
The tragedy is this flim-flam only appeals to vulnerable gay people and their families, desperate out of fear and ignorance to clutch at any straw. Words like “reparative”, “choice” and “healing” completely disguise what their “therapy” really is: brainwashing and mental bludgeoning, forcing internal repression and the simulated appearance of heterosexuality. Underlying same-sex orientation and desire does not change, it is merely suppressed. The unfortunate victim of this “therapy” lives a zombie half-life, desperately trying to convince everyone, including themselves, they are straight, until they have some kind of breakdown. The established psychiatric opinion is that there is no scientific evidence reparative therapy succeeds in its objectives, and in fact it has the potential to do tremendous damage to the patient and their family.
So for Heaven’s sake, Dr Nicolosi, let my people go!
1 Zefrog organized a well-attended protest outside this conference.
2 Apart from destroying the rationale behind his business, of course.
It is this ominous quote from Joe Nicolosi, speaker at the recent “Gay Cure” conference 1, which seems to me to most clearly and succinctly delineate his bigotry.
Of course, people are born gay and as law-abiding citizens we deserve acceptance and equal rights. But, say - completely hypothetically speaking - if homosexuality was a choice, why does Dr Nicolosi think “it changes everything”? Again, as a free, autonomous and law-abiding citizen, I would expect society to respect my free choice to love whoever I want. Nicolosi has no right at all to judge me or intervene in any way in how I choose to live my life lawfully in a free society, especially over a choice which has no impact on him whatsoever.2
The ex-gay brigade’s failures of logic are just astonishing. If homosexuality is a ‘choice’, why does there need to be such a large and activist “reparative” industry to “change” people’s “choices”? ~ and what about the gay penguins, flamingos, bonobos and the 1000s of other animal species demonstrated to evince homosexuality quite naturally? How do they fit into his ridiculous, completely outdated and discredited Freudian ideas of how gayness comes about?
The tragedy is this flim-flam only appeals to vulnerable gay people and their families, desperate out of fear and ignorance to clutch at any straw. Words like “reparative”, “choice” and “healing” completely disguise what their “therapy” really is: brainwashing and mental bludgeoning, forcing internal repression and the simulated appearance of heterosexuality. Underlying same-sex orientation and desire does not change, it is merely suppressed. The unfortunate victim of this “therapy” lives a zombie half-life, desperately trying to convince everyone, including themselves, they are straight, until they have some kind of breakdown. The established psychiatric opinion is that there is no scientific evidence reparative therapy succeeds in its objectives, and in fact it has the potential to do tremendous damage to the patient and their family.
So for Heaven’s sake, Dr Nicolosi, let my people go!
1 Zefrog organized a well-attended protest outside this conference.
2 Apart from destroying the rationale behind his business, of course.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
One & Other
Ok - I've signed up for a chance to be a statue! In the terms and conditions it says I have to abide by copyright law. I hope this doesn't mean that if I'm accepted I will become ⓒ Antony Gormley.
Imagine hobnobbing with Nelson in Trafalgar Square! Good luck to me!
Saturday, April 18, 2009
plus ça change
My head, heart and stomach are still heaving from this morning’s Guardian news. Although cynical to my bones, even I thought the Grauniad was pushing it a bit when they highlighted the first Tomlinson pathologist’s questionable record. Well, now they look like they were bang on the nail. The new pathologist’s finding that death was caused by “abdominal bleeding” makes this a clear-cut case of manslaughter. But as always the lying and the failed spin do the most damage to the Met’s reputation. And the IPCC’s actions do not inspire confidence either.
So, since my last post in this here website thingy, the story has developed as follows:
1) The police “heroically” “come to the aid” of a dying “heart-attack” victim, under a “barrage” of bottles/bricks*/intercontinental ballistic missiles** (delete as necessary) thrown by a “crazed mob” of “rioting” protesters.
2) A balaclaved riot policeman callously and brutally attacks an innocent bystander from behind in full view of his colleagues, who do nothing to intervene or assist the victim. The victim dies minutes later from the injuries sustained.
The Guardian’s video footage of the attack was the crucial evidence moving the story on from (1) to (2), cutting though the IPCC’s apparent failure to take protesters’ evidence seriously. By now it is very clear the protesters evidence is far more credible than that of the police and IPCC (“no CCTV cameras in the area”).
Ironically the Guardian’s footage is probably illegal under section 76 of the Counter-Terrorism Act 2008 (and 58A of the 2000 Act). The public’s right to identify individual policemen is absolutely crucial, and arguably this includes the right to photograph them should they - as is apparent in the G20 police action - choose to disguise their identities by covering their faces and number badges. The rules regarding photography of police officers need to be repealed urgently.
*The “bricks” claim was made on the day of Ian Tomlinson’s death by the Evening Standard. They have since deleted this claim from their website (video evidence shows one plastic water bottle thrown, by someone possibly unaware there was a medical emergency). Ian Tomlinson was a newspaper vendor for the Evening Standard.
** Making things up is fun!
So, since my last post in this here website thingy, the story has developed as follows:
1) The police “heroically” “come to the aid” of a dying “heart-attack” victim, under a “barrage” of bottles/bricks*/intercontinental ballistic missiles** (delete as necessary) thrown by a “crazed mob” of “rioting” protesters.
2) A balaclaved riot policeman callously and brutally attacks an innocent bystander from behind in full view of his colleagues, who do nothing to intervene or assist the victim. The victim dies minutes later from the injuries sustained.
The Guardian’s video footage of the attack was the crucial evidence moving the story on from (1) to (2), cutting though the IPCC’s apparent failure to take protesters’ evidence seriously. By now it is very clear the protesters evidence is far more credible than that of the police and IPCC (“no CCTV cameras in the area”).
Ironically the Guardian’s footage is probably illegal under section 76 of the Counter-Terrorism Act 2008 (and 58A of the 2000 Act). The public’s right to identify individual policemen is absolutely crucial, and arguably this includes the right to photograph them should they - as is apparent in the G20 police action - choose to disguise their identities by covering their faces and number badges. The rules regarding photography of police officers need to be repealed urgently.
*The “bricks” claim was made on the day of Ian Tomlinson’s death by the Evening Standard. They have since deleted this claim from their website (video evidence shows one plastic water bottle thrown, by someone possibly unaware there was a medical emergency). Ian Tomlinson was a newspaper vendor for the Evening Standard.
** Making things up is fun!
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
police brutality
The Guardian has put the video up on You Tube and invited people to repost it, so here it is. It's absolutely great that it exists, because it clearly shows the violence perpetrated on Mr Tomlinson was completely unprovoked, and exposes the lies that emerged in the media immediately after the G20 protest last week.
Very similarly to the Jean Charles de Menezes case - downright lies are disseminated about the victim first, only for the truth to come dribbling out later.
Except in this case, we have corrective video evidence, the best kind. It will be hard for them to spin this, and even the Home Secretary is talking about criminal investigations.
I suspect this will be the last case of its kind. Anti-terror law now forbids the photography of police officers pursuing the course of their duties. Expect this law to be ruthlessly enforced at the next protest. We really are becoming a police state.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Byzantium at the Royal Academy
Once again, I broke my rule of never going on the last day . . . but forgot about this one until Catriona reminded me and we caught it on the final Saturday.
Byzantium is wonderfully exotic - a heritage we in Western Europe share only though a distant kinship at best; it feels exotic, romantic, rich and strange. I studied the Byzantines in history of art, and we concentrated particularly on architecture, one of the glories of Byzantine culture and the most obvious of their developments away from the Roman tradition. The Byzantine Church developed a total aesthetic which aimed to immerse the worshipper in an all-pervading religious atmosphere, and the RA exhibition did not really go anywhere near getting this across.
Architecture was pretty much ignored; instead we had loads and loads of Byzantine bits and pieces, separated out into categories of object. Much of this was quite spectacular - the quality of the items was superb - but the whole unfortunately was less than the sum of the parts.
Part of this was the unfortunate queueing system imposed by having a series of display cases lined up with tiny objects and tinier and hard-to-read labels. There was a lot of amazing bling, but all small scale. The largest piece was a tiered hanging candelabra from Munich - about 25 feet in diameter and greater in height. This was in the entrance to the show and that was that.
That candelabra would have lit an ambiguously vaulted space crowded with glittering mosaics - mosaics specially angled to catch and refract the light. There would have been incense burners and gorgeous chanting choirs to bathe all the senses. It would have been amazing. The show completely lacked that sort of excitement.
The British Museum’s latest shows have used multimedia to great effect, and I don’t see why the RA couldn’t have done the same here. I think the subject was crying out for it - and a video screen or two surely can’t be so expensive? As it was, a very worthy effort, but it felt slightly dated in its presentation.
Byzantium is wonderfully exotic - a heritage we in Western Europe share only though a distant kinship at best; it feels exotic, romantic, rich and strange. I studied the Byzantines in history of art, and we concentrated particularly on architecture, one of the glories of Byzantine culture and the most obvious of their developments away from the Roman tradition. The Byzantine Church developed a total aesthetic which aimed to immerse the worshipper in an all-pervading religious atmosphere, and the RA exhibition did not really go anywhere near getting this across.
Architecture was pretty much ignored; instead we had loads and loads of Byzantine bits and pieces, separated out into categories of object. Much of this was quite spectacular - the quality of the items was superb - but the whole unfortunately was less than the sum of the parts.
Part of this was the unfortunate queueing system imposed by having a series of display cases lined up with tiny objects and tinier and hard-to-read labels. There was a lot of amazing bling, but all small scale. The largest piece was a tiered hanging candelabra from Munich - about 25 feet in diameter and greater in height. This was in the entrance to the show and that was that.
That candelabra would have lit an ambiguously vaulted space crowded with glittering mosaics - mosaics specially angled to catch and refract the light. There would have been incense burners and gorgeous chanting choirs to bathe all the senses. It would have been amazing. The show completely lacked that sort of excitement.
The British Museum’s latest shows have used multimedia to great effect, and I don’t see why the RA couldn’t have done the same here. I think the subject was crying out for it - and a video screen or two surely can’t be so expensive? As it was, a very worthy effort, but it felt slightly dated in its presentation.
Van Dyck at Tate Britain
“This sumptuous exhibition brings together some of the most magnificent paintings by Belgian-born painter Sir Anthony van Dyck, startlingly portraying many of the leading characters of the Stuart period.” - the advertising hook for the Tate’s current Van Dyck exhibition.
I disagree. The Tate’s Van Dyck exhibition is slghtly underwhelming - it feels almost provisional, as if it was hastily arranged in celebration of the Tate’s recent acquisition of Rubens’s Banqueting Hall sketch. Rubens being Van Dyck’s master and Van Dyck being thus partly the reason for the national collection of British art buying a foreign artist’s work. The Royal Academy had a Van Dyck show relatively recently, and it truly felt sumptuous - this one perhaps is missing too many of the great Royal pieces, concentrating mostly on the court paintings (and some of those overfamiliar, from the National Gallery and even another outing for two paintings the Tate showed last year in the Orientalism show, of Charles I’s ambassador to Persia and his wife (hung on the opposite wall in this one). The show never seems to come to a considered argument about the artist’s work - it just hangs what it can on the walls and ‘celebrates’.
A room focussing on the painter’s private life - his wife and mistress - is the highlight. The last couple of rooms chronicle Van Dyck’s posthumous influence, and seem to suggest that any old portrait painted in Britain in the last few centuries was somehow indebted to Van Dyck, filling the walls as it does with random examples of same. Weak and unconvincing.
I was fascinated by ladies fashions as displayed in the portraits. All the men seem individuated, but all the women conform to a very strict type. They all wear double-drop pearl ear rings and a single rope of pearls. They all wear their hair in very tight ringlets around the face.
Does this truly reflect the fashion of the time? If so, it remained remarkably stable throughout Van Dyck’s career (and into the careers of his immediate followers) - unlike the contemporary fashions for men. I can’t quite believe this. Could it be that this was simply the way he chose to portray women? - and that he had a pair of prop ear rings and a pearl necklace hanging around his studio? Weird.
I disagree. The Tate’s Van Dyck exhibition is slghtly underwhelming - it feels almost provisional, as if it was hastily arranged in celebration of the Tate’s recent acquisition of Rubens’s Banqueting Hall sketch. Rubens being Van Dyck’s master and Van Dyck being thus partly the reason for the national collection of British art buying a foreign artist’s work. The Royal Academy had a Van Dyck show relatively recently, and it truly felt sumptuous - this one perhaps is missing too many of the great Royal pieces, concentrating mostly on the court paintings (and some of those overfamiliar, from the National Gallery and even another outing for two paintings the Tate showed last year in the Orientalism show, of Charles I’s ambassador to Persia and his wife (hung on the opposite wall in this one). The show never seems to come to a considered argument about the artist’s work - it just hangs what it can on the walls and ‘celebrates’.
A room focussing on the painter’s private life - his wife and mistress - is the highlight. The last couple of rooms chronicle Van Dyck’s posthumous influence, and seem to suggest that any old portrait painted in Britain in the last few centuries was somehow indebted to Van Dyck, filling the walls as it does with random examples of same. Weak and unconvincing.
I was fascinated by ladies fashions as displayed in the portraits. All the men seem individuated, but all the women conform to a very strict type. They all wear double-drop pearl ear rings and a single rope of pearls. They all wear their hair in very tight ringlets around the face.Does this truly reflect the fashion of the time? If so, it remained remarkably stable throughout Van Dyck’s career (and into the careers of his immediate followers) - unlike the contemporary fashions for men. I can’t quite believe this. Could it be that this was simply the way he chose to portray women? - and that he had a pair of prop ear rings and a pearl necklace hanging around his studio? Weird.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Wild Things
You must take a look at the Italian photographer Giacomo Brunelli’s site. His use of monochrome is gorgeous; but his retro technique (analogue photos taken on a 1968 Miranda Sensomat camera) is at the service of an original eye for the wildness of the domestic pet. Lush, romantic, sometimes sentimental - but with an edge of animal violence and unknowability. LOLcats these are not. Considering the technique, astonishing captures of fugitive moments.
via Andrew Sullivan and Creative Review.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
I spy with my little eye . . .
Yay for the vernal equinox! - Spring is busting out all over on Clapham Common, with sun-happy commoners soaking up the rays. Hard to believe just weeks ago we were all frolicking in the snow. I’m just back from a quick sortie to Sainsbury’s to pick up some fruit (just off a stressed 36 hours) and the Guardian. Just enough time to share some blog love with you all before heading off to the Royal Academy to meet Catriona and the Byzantines.
Guess who I saw in Sainbury’s?? Vivienne Westwood, that’s who!!! Amazing! Of course always knew La Westwood lived in Clapham but never in a million gazillion years did I think I would bump into her at Sainsbury’s. She was buying flowers and lots of fruit and vegetables. She was reusing shopping bags!
She was wearing a rather gorgeous lime green coat, and had beautiful glasses (own brand? - couldn’t tell). I pass over her footwear in silence.
Yep, unfortunately I spent my time in the queue scoping her out (I hope relatively discreetly) - I did however manage to refrain from asking for her autograph or a mobile phone photo.
Guess who I saw in Sainbury’s?? Vivienne Westwood, that’s who!!! Amazing! Of course always knew La Westwood lived in Clapham but never in a million gazillion years did I think I would bump into her at Sainsbury’s. She was buying flowers and lots of fruit and vegetables. She was reusing shopping bags!
She was wearing a rather gorgeous lime green coat, and had beautiful glasses (own brand? - couldn’t tell). I pass over her footwear in silence.
Yep, unfortunately I spent my time in the queue scoping her out (I hope relatively discreetly) - I did however manage to refrain from asking for her autograph or a mobile phone photo.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Watchmen
Who knew? Apparently Time magazine regards this comic book as one of the 100 best novels written since 1923.
This factoid, as well as the exquisite trailer (Ok - especially the part with Billy Crudup as the nuclear-infused, cerulean blue, totally naked and hot Dr Manhattan) prompted me to see the movie. I haven’t read the book.
It’s had mixed reviews. Dr Manhattan’s blue penis provoked particular comment in the USA (Did I mention Dr Manhattan spends a large amount of the movie starkers?) Us Euros are clearly far more relaxed about such matters. Apparently, in the book the penis is quite small, like a grecian statue’s. The problems of translating this to screen are obvious. On the one side, male nudity is still taboo in the culture. On the other, one has the vanity of the actor to respect. The result is, the CGI penis on screen is massively larger than that drawn for Dr Manhattan in the novel, but the filmakers are quite subtle in its deployment. It doesn’t call attention to itself at all. I think this is a positive approach and quite healthy.
The length (almost 3 hours) didn’t bother me (you didn't think I was still talking about the big blue penis, did you?)- although the storyline did lack pace. I applaud the sophisticated, indirect, flashback style of explication. Classically, one of the problems of this style is its potential to stall the plot. I don’t think that was entirely the case here - the plot stalls mostly because the director Zack Snyders can't resist showcasing the beautiful design and the camera just spends too much time on the scenery (which admittedly is gorgeous - one of the real triumphs of the film; it kept me going through the 3 hours). Also, Snyders said in an interview that he ramped up the sex and violence - again, gratuitously lengthy fight sequences keep the plot from moving forward and actually sometimes actively distract from important plot points: the framing for murder of Rorschach, for example, is almost lost in the lengthy violence of his arrest.
Never have I seen a more excrutiatingly embarrassing sex scene - so bad the audience giggled. The silver lining is that surely this will now end the screen career of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” - the most clunkingly blatant and intrusive of a screed of banal music choices. Overfamiliar music just calls attention to itself and once again distracts from the action, slowing the whole thing down.
The graphic novel is a product of the late cold war, and was regarded in its day as innovative. The morally complex, dark universe is certainly a rich context for the story (one thinks of Hamlet, or the work of Graham Greene). However, complexity here becomes confusion: I lost interest in the issues at stake for the characters and the climax left me completely uninvolved. I don’t know how much of this is inherent in the original book and how much is the adaptation’s fault.
Catch it on a large screen if you can - the visuals demand it. The BFI Imax screen was amazing.
This factoid, as well as the exquisite trailer (Ok - especially the part with Billy Crudup as the nuclear-infused, cerulean blue, totally naked and hot Dr Manhattan) prompted me to see the movie. I haven’t read the book.
It’s had mixed reviews. Dr Manhattan’s blue penis provoked particular comment in the USA (Did I mention Dr Manhattan spends a large amount of the movie starkers?) Us Euros are clearly far more relaxed about such matters. Apparently, in the book the penis is quite small, like a grecian statue’s. The problems of translating this to screen are obvious. On the one side, male nudity is still taboo in the culture. On the other, one has the vanity of the actor to respect. The result is, the CGI penis on screen is massively larger than that drawn for Dr Manhattan in the novel, but the filmakers are quite subtle in its deployment. It doesn’t call attention to itself at all. I think this is a positive approach and quite healthy.
The length (almost 3 hours) didn’t bother me (you didn't think I was still talking about the big blue penis, did you?)- although the storyline did lack pace. I applaud the sophisticated, indirect, flashback style of explication. Classically, one of the problems of this style is its potential to stall the plot. I don’t think that was entirely the case here - the plot stalls mostly because the director Zack Snyders can't resist showcasing the beautiful design and the camera just spends too much time on the scenery (which admittedly is gorgeous - one of the real triumphs of the film; it kept me going through the 3 hours). Also, Snyders said in an interview that he ramped up the sex and violence - again, gratuitously lengthy fight sequences keep the plot from moving forward and actually sometimes actively distract from important plot points: the framing for murder of Rorschach, for example, is almost lost in the lengthy violence of his arrest.
Never have I seen a more excrutiatingly embarrassing sex scene - so bad the audience giggled. The silver lining is that surely this will now end the screen career of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” - the most clunkingly blatant and intrusive of a screed of banal music choices. Overfamiliar music just calls attention to itself and once again distracts from the action, slowing the whole thing down.
The graphic novel is a product of the late cold war, and was regarded in its day as innovative. The morally complex, dark universe is certainly a rich context for the story (one thinks of Hamlet, or the work of Graham Greene). However, complexity here becomes confusion: I lost interest in the issues at stake for the characters and the climax left me completely uninvolved. I don’t know how much of this is inherent in the original book and how much is the adaptation’s fault.
Catch it on a large screen if you can - the visuals demand it. The BFI Imax screen was amazing.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Testing . . . testing . . .
Aha! At last a really quite decent test to take, and one I did quite well in! Hoorah!
Now, why is it exactly I can't play scrabble??!
Your result for The Commonly Confused Words Test...
English Genius
You scored 100% Beginner, 100% Intermediate, 80% Advanced, and 87% Expert!
You did so extremely well, even I can't find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don't. You have an extensive vocabulary, and you're not afraid to use it properly! Way to go!
Thank you so much for taking my test. I hope you enjoyed it!
For the complete Answer Key, visit my blog: http://shortredhead78.blogspot.com/.
Take The Commonly Confused Words Test at HelloQuizzy
Now, why is it exactly I can't play scrabble??!
Friday, March 06, 2009
green custard!
Hmmm. I agree with protesting the third runway*. And it is true I have found direct action amusing before - the shoes thrown at President Bush, for example. But green custard over Mandy? I found it surprisingly upsetting. Green = poison, not custard, usually. It must have been frightening for Lord Mandelson on a personal level. It's just too premeditated and contrived and stalkerish and spooky. There are easier ways to laugh at our politicians.
On the other hand, props to protestor Leila Deen for her articulate defence of her action on the BBC. I wonder if Plane Stupid activists are given media training?
*Astonishing fact: I've lived in various abodes the length and breadth of Battersea and Clapham - however, wherever I've been, I have always been directly under a flight path. How can that actually happen? And the new runway is bound to make things worse.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Birthday Cake: Chocolate Nemesis
The lengthy process of auditioning cakes for my birthday finally arrived at a suitable candidate. A tough task, but it had to be done.
:-)
I abandoned my previous contenders when I came across David Lebovitz’s post about the chocolate cake recipe I found on a men's room wall. I had to try it, even though it involved translating from the original French.
The flat mate and I were duly impressed - me especially with the addition of a small glass of strong coffee - while the flavour of the coffee itself remains hidden, it dramatically deepens and intensifies the chocolate. Yum.
Thinking more on this theme brought me back to the ultimate flourless chocolate cake recipe: the River Cafe’s Chocolate Nemesis.
I first ate this at the famous restaurant itself. I remember our party of six admired the huge cartwheel of a pudding on the counter as we came in. However, I was the only one to actually order a slice.
My involuntary orgasmic gasp on my first mouthful brought 5 large spoons down on my plate - “for a taste” - leaving me with virtually no pudding left. The nightmare of maintaining a polite composure as I watched my nemesis disappear lives with me still.
So once Ruth Rogers and Rose Gray published their River Cafe Cook Book, I tried to do the recipe one Christmas - with disastrous results. I later found out I was not alone. In fact, this recipe had become pretty notorious in London: Julian Barnes himself wrote about the social phenomenon:
“Moralists know that Hubris inevitably leads to Nemesis, but never before had the theory been given such literal expression. Overweening pride in one's ability to cook led to chocolate disaster. The pudding - in case you need reminding - was a signature dish (as the vile phrase has it) of the River Cafe. People had eaten at the restaurant, discovered this most decadent of puddings (2lbs chocolate, 10 eggs, 1lb butter, 1lb 5oz sugar), and, when the first River Cafe Cook Book came out, decided to try it for themselves.
Why it went wrong we Nemetics never discovered. The paranoid explanation was that some key element of the recipe had been deliberately omitted, thus driving customers back to the restaurant for the authentic item. The more plausible one was that there is a difference between the professional and the domestic oven, that certain dishes exaggerate this difference, and Chocolate Nemesis exaggerated the exaggerations. But the failure was generally so spectacular that few got back up off the floor and tried it again.”
Well, I laid my nemesis ghosts and tried it again, from their River Cafe Easy book. It worked! - at least, it came out, stood up, and was deliciously rich and fudgy: but not quite the perfection that in memory lives forever fresh.
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