Showing posts with label painting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label painting. Show all posts

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Filming the Human Comedy


Long time readers of this blog may recall my fondness for the 2011 film The Mill and the Cross by Lech Majewski. The movie examines a moment in the life of the painter Pieter Bruegel and the creation of one of his masterworks, The Way to Calvary. The painting is one of the sprawling canvases, teeming with activity, for which Bruegel is well known. The figure of Christ weighed down by His Cross may be centered in the composition, yet He is not given any special emphasis by the artist. Indeed, He receives no more prominence than any of the other characters populating the scene. (The only figures given such special designation are the Virgin with her companions). As with many of Bruegel's works, this is an illustration of history in progress, even if few of the passersby have any inkling what they are witnessing. Many do not pay any heed to the procession of condemned, preoccupied as they are with their own cares. Bruegel was interested in more than simply recording the Important Events of History, but also the more typical everyday actions that co-exist alongside. Majewski takes this approach in his film as well, giving us less a portrait of the famous artist than of the society in which he lived and the range of behavior he witnessed in his daily life. Like the painter with his brushes, Majewski wishes to capture with his camera, as much as possible, the sum of human experience.

This summer, another approach to Bruegel through cinema can be experienced. Jem Cohen's outstanding Museum Hours is the story of two individuals who meet in a Vienna museum. Johann is a guard at the institution, while Anne is from North America, visiting a once-close cousin, who has lapsed into a coma. Large sections of the story occur inside Vienna's Kunsthistorisches Museum, which happens to contain an entire room of Bruegels, including some of his most famous works (The Way to Calvary being among them). A scene in which a "visiting guide" shares some remarks on Bruegel highlights Cohen's own desire to reproduce the aesthetic of the artist. The guide speaks a little on The Way to Calvary and other paintings, but Cohen seems most in sync with Bruegel's The Peasant Wedding. Here there is no lofty subject of the past being ignored, only everyday life being experienced. There is no hidden subtext within this picture, or some old-wives' proverb being illustrated for our edification. Instead, the artist simply shows how people live. We witness the good, bad and ugly just as we might at any contemporary wedding celebration we might attend ourselves this season.

Throughout the movie, Cohen inserts seemingly random sequences of bystanders, both in and outside the museum, going about their business. Then, late in the film, Johann takes Anne to his regular tavern for its weekly "immigrant night." There is no narrative purpose to this scene, yet it is one of the highlights of the story. Music foreign to both the local and the tourist plays while patrons drink, sing and dance, welcoming Anne into their celebration. During the time in the tavern, Cohen focuses on a huge collage of photographs, reminders of the people who have been there and the various events they have observed. A faded banner hangs prominently on a nearby wall. Bruegel used paint; the tavern uses photography, Cohen uses a movie camera, yet they all follow through on the same human instinct: to document, to express through art, "we were here and this is how we lived." In such a way, Cohen, like Majewski, successfully translates the aesthetic of Bruegel's paintings to that of cinema, and in the process attempts to capture as wide a spectrum of the human experience as possible.

Cheers.    


Saturday, April 16, 2011

Last Night at Reggio's

Last night I preformed a poem at the Cornelia Street Cafe Son of a Pony poetry series. I had been away from the venue for a few months, and it felt good to return again. I put in a strong showing, as did my dear TC, who read as well. In high spirits, we felt up for a little celebrating before heading home. (By chance, it also happened to be the one year anniversary of when she moved into her current apartment). Without much difficulty, we settled upon Cafe Reggio's for our simple, though no less tasty, feast. I snapped a few photos of the Village at twilight, some of which, I may post on another occasion. For now, however, I shall focus on the pictures I took inside the cafe. Cafe Reggio's is an establishment with much of what is usually referred to as character, which in this case consists of many antique art objects densely installed throughout the space.  In theory this might sound claustrophobic, but, in practice, it is not, creating instead a favorable atmosphere for their good food.  I did not chose to take any photos of this overall effect though, as my taste in framing tends more towards details than the overall picture. I sometimes suspect that it is so that I might focus in on an object, in an attempt to capture more fully a sense of mood or personality: 

photo by creighton blinn, all rights reserved



       











photo by creighton blinn, all rights reserved



There was a melancholy feel to these two pieces, which were placed near our table, especially the top one, as if the bust were of a saint silently accepting the beatings inflicted by the not so innocent seeming coat rack.  Indeed, the shape of the figure suggests to me a reliquary of martyr as much as the portrait bust of a young noble.  Meanwhile, his lady watches apprehensively, near at hand, yet still, powerless . . . 

Then there was this plate with its ghostly glare about it: 
photo by creighton blinn, all rights reserved


Of course, I do not always need to read a narrative into an image; I can also simply enjoy the beauty of pools of lights:

photo by creighton blinn, all rights reserved
photo by creighton blinn, all rights reserved

All in all, a good end to what had been a rather hectic week, as well as a good start to the weekend. 

Cheers