December Film Festival

 It's all over for December.  The regular end of the month film festival enjoyed capacity crowds (2), and the celebration went on until well after 10 pm.  At about that time it began to snow again, though when we awoke this morning it was raining, and the snow had already vanished.  Last night was also full moon party time.  Deb baked a totally awesome chocolate cake, and I lit a totally awesome fire, and we had a totally awesome time.  The cake is still awesome today, but the fire is quite done.

Last week I chose a film about Mishima, a controversial Japanese writer and public figure if there ever was one.  That film, directed by Paul Schrader, included parts from three of his novels.  In addition, Criterion is also showing two feature films (Japanese, and both in wide screen b & w), based on novels of Mishima.  First came Conflagration, from 1958, and directed by Kon Ichikawa, based on the novel The Golden Temple.  Essentially, the beautiful temple is being used as a money making tourist attraction by the monks who care for it.  A stuttering young monk falls in love with the temple, and eventually causes its destruction.  The film opens at the police station, where the monk has been apprehended and charged with destroying a national treasure.  The rest of the story is told in flashback.  This story was also used in Schrader's  later film.

Conflagration is now showing on the Criterion Channel, from a novel by Yukio Mishima. 

Next up was a 1967 Japanese New Wave film directed by Koreyoshi Kurahara called Thirst For Love, based on the Mishima novel of the same title.  The story concerns a widowed woman still living with her father-in-law, becoming his mistress.  However, she craves the attention and the body of an underage gardener and handyman, eventually destroying herself in the attempt to win him over to her.  She is a seriously warped female, one of the top five I have ever seen in film!  Her scheming and her sexual desires go way off the chart into mighty strange territory, making for fascinating viewing.  The photography is outstanding.

             Thirst For Love, now showing on the Criterion Channel, based on Mishima's novel.

 For the third film, in keeping with the Japanese theme (but not, alas, Mishima), we watched Zatoichi's Pilgrimage, from 1966.  The film began in a promising way, as the blind swordsman sets off on a pilgrimage of 88 temples, to atone for all the killing he has done.  However, early on in the pilgrimage the usual story pops back up like a bad penny.  Village and beautiful girl need his help to thwart the bad boss who wants to take over the farming valley for his own profit.  And the body count is as high as ever.  Poor Zatoichi will have to spend his entire life on this pilgrimage, to no avail.  An average potboiler for the series, with not much new added.

Now showing on the Criterion Channel, and #14 in the long running series of the blind swordsman. 

 

I still have my regular pick of the week to go.  And tomorrow, or New Year's Day at the latest, I will return with my December reading summary.  And some more art from the DIA.

Mapman Mike

Post-Christmas Message

 It began snowing on Christmas Eve, and continued all throughout Christmas Day.  It was also as cold as January, and still is.  We were promised one cold day, but this is the 3rd in a row.  So we have been even more inside than usual, if that is even possible.  I still make 2 trips outside every day, to feed the birds and squirrels.  We've had cardinals, a flock of goldfinches, nuthatches, sparrows, pigeons, and chickadees, along with every squirrel within ten square miles.  They eat voraciously when there is snow on the ground and it is really cold outside.  So do I.

I talked briefly with my parents on Friday, and Deb talked with Lynne, my brother's wife.  And today I talked at length with Amanda, who is in town to visit her family from Toronto.  As I write this blog entry the newest lockdown restrictions are in effect Ontario-wide, and will remain so until late January.  We'll see if that slows down the disease.  Already the newer strain has arrived here.

In addition to movies, we are watching Season 3 of Upstart Crow on Britbox, as well as watching Black Adder again from the beginning.  And we continue to watch Sir Tony Robinson's Walking Through History on Prime.  It's my turn to choose a threesome for this weekend's end of the month film festival, so stay tuned for that important announcement later in the week.  The show begins tonight at 6:45 pm.

Recently watched Criterion films include my two most recent choices.  The first was part 3 of Fassbinder's fascinating and fun TV series 8 Hours Don't Make A Day.  At 1 hr 45 min each, the five part series requires some serious set-aside time.  But it's worth it, as Fassbinder tackles the work-a-day world of a German industrial city in the 1970s.  Next came a short film from the leaving list, called Our Dancing Daughters.  From 1928, it is a silent film starring Joan Crawford as a carefree flapper, wondering why serious guys don't pick her for keeps.  The soundtrack is quite good, featuring music, sound effects, and even songs appearing over top emotional scenes. The ending is pure Hollywood cliche, but is fun nonetheless.  Bad characters who are really, really drunk should not try to negotiate a really long, high staircase.  Take it from me.

Showing until Dec. 31st on criterion.

The stunning Ms. Crawford in 1928.

The infamous staircase of doom.  

 

Deb chose to see what a city looks like with no clothes on.  From 1948 comes Jules Dassin's stunning crime drama The Naked City.  It was the first big Hollywood film to shoot on location in New York City, and it's fun to watch for several reasons.  The main crime story is quite good, and of course the outdoor and indoor photography is excellent.  One of the short features that accompany the film takes a tour of several locations used in filming.  The picture has a narrator, and he talks viewers through a typical workday in Manhattan, with the camera going into places never before seen, including the actual city morgue, and inside police headquarters, where various departments and labs are shown doing their jobs.  We have seen it before, years ago, but this was, of course, a newly restored print, which makes all the difference.  A solid film, worth catching.

 

Now showing on Criterion, with many extra shorts to support it.

Filmed on location in NYC, this was the first big American film to do so.  

Turning to painting, I chose yet another Arcadia image, this one even richer and more enticing than the last time.  This is a fun painting to gaze at when the snow is blowing and the weather is frightful.  It's even fun to look at when the weather is lovely.  I like these paintings because nothing seems to be going on.  Everyone knows that in the Golden Age no one had to work, or be anywhere at any specific time.  You could just loll around all day and eat grapes.  We could all use a few such days in our busy lives.  Even in a nearly one-year stay-at-home life, I am still far too busy.  This is a large painting, but because of the horizontal path, it is more difficult to enter the picture.  But the calmness and sereneness make up for that; we should not be wandering too far off anyway, as it is too taxing.
 

Landscape Of Ancient Greece, 1786, Pierre Henri de Valenciennes, French 1750-1819.  Oil on canvas, 39.5" x 59.5".  Collection Detroit Institute of Arts.

 

Detail of left side.

 

Detail of right side.

 

Further detail, right side.

 

Your loveliness goes on and on...

See you all next time, after the film festival weekend festivities have ended.

Mapman Mike

 

A Rainy Planetary Conjunction

 Another Solstice celebration has come and gone, and per usual, it was a fine one.  Due to heavy clouds we saw no sunrise or sunset, though we did get some sun during the day.  However, by the time it would have been for viewing the conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn, it was raining.  Oh well, perhaps the next one in 400 years or so will have better weather.  All was not lost, however, as we had great views of them on Sunday evening (Monday was closest approach).  Saturn, much dimmer than Jupiter, was sitting just above the brighter planet, and could see seen easily with the naked eye, and of course with binoculars.  This was no Star of Bethlehem, as some media outlets proclaimed, just the two biggest planets lining up in their orbits from our viewpoint.  Venus is a much brighter object whenever it is up.  But being able to see both in a telescope at the same time is very unusual.  We did not set up the scope, as we had been observing both planets all summer and all autumn, just not in the same field of view.

 As to Solstice day, we enjoyed a wood fire indoors from 8 am (our sunrise) until nearly 9 pm.  There was all day music, lots to eat and drink, and with Deb and I actually sitting in the same room, instead of apart working on our own projects, there was some conversation, too.  We put up the decorations last Friday evening.  On Saturday we baked almond cookies, and on Sunday we baked two loaves of spiced pumpkin bread.  With a full moon coming up next week, as well as New Year's Eve, the partying will not likely stop for long.  Weather wise we are in another mild spell, but the season's first really frigid day is due on Friday.  But it quickly returns to normal temps right afterwards.

On Dec. 26th the entire province of Ontario goes into grey lockdown, the most severe form the government has come up with.  Even Sudbury, which is in the green, has to bypass yellow, orange, and red, moving directly to grey.  Anyway, things continue on as ever here at Lone Mountain Homestead.  I've been rereading my 38 trip logs to New Mexico lately (I'm currently rereading Trip #22), and putting all of our NM tent sites on my Google Earth page.  I really miss that place, and can't wait to get back there.

We have been watching and enjoying an older British TV series called Walking Through History, presented by Tony Robinson (of Black Adder fame).  He devises long distance walks based on historical events.  In Season One he walked along the south coast tracing WW 11 sites; next he walked the South Downs tracing some of Henry V111 history; then he went to Scotland to trace the clan rebellions against the British.  We are just watching the first episode of Season 2, about prehistoric Britain, namely Avebury, Silbury Hill, and Stonehenge.  It's a really good series, even if you are not a walker, and Tony does a great job.

In movie news, the two most recent flics watched were selected by Deb, both from the "leaving Dec. 31st" list.  First up was a Noir that neither of us had ever seen, called The Big Combo.  From 1955, it stars Cornel Wilde, Brian Donlevy, and Richard Conte.  It had guns, dames, an underpaid cop and an overpaid crook.  The cop wants to bring down the gangster, and is also in love with his girlfriend.  There are several nice little moments in this story, and plot twists that catch us by surprise.  I'd have to watch it again to decide if this is a Noir classic, but it is worth watching, even twice.

Showing for about one more week on Criterion.  

 

Next up was another crime drama, which could be considered rather noirish. From 1927 comes Todd Browning's creepy The Unknown, starring Lon Chaney as an armless circus performer, throwing knives at lovely Joan Crawford, with whom he is madly in love.  Unfortunately for him she loves the strongman a lot more, despite her phobia of having men touching her.  The story is as perverse as they come, with Lon Chaney giving a stand out performance.  He was aided in several scenes by a real armless man.  Definitely worth seeing, and at a short running time of only 49', it won't take a lot from your day, either.

                                                    Showing on Criterion until Dec. 31st.  

Just about now, I could use the image of An Arcadian Landscape to decompress.  If I had this picture in my closet (which I sort of actually have, thanks to the internet and art museums who put their art up for viewing online) I would take it out and look at it with hope and promise of better things to come.  Though everyone has been trashing 2020, it started out just fine, at least.  2021 is going to be starting out on a very bad footing, and has a long way to go before it will be remembered as a year that things got a lot better.  I'll believe it when I set foot again first in Detroit, then in New Mexico.  Until those times, I will expect the same old same old from 2021.  But I will look at lots of pictures and movies, and listen to much music and read many more books, before better times arrive.  On top of that, a Canadian winter is about to begin.

Arcadian Landscape, 1794, Luwig Philipp Strack, German 1761-1836; oil on canvas 34" x 47.5". Collection Detroit Institute of Arts.

No masks, no social distancing, and a warm, sunny climate--it is Arcadia!

I am playing a short concert for some of my friends. 

Detail showing my mountaintop home in behind my authentic Greek temple.

Those are not my sheep, however. 

 

The main thing is to get through this winter, for a start. So far, we are both fine and coping. A special thank you to the Criterion Channel, Amazon Prime, and all the front line grocery store workers keeping us going!

Mapman Mike

 
 

 

Dark Days

As we enter our 9th month of staying home, we know there are many more similar months ahead.  Winter weather continues to come and go.  We dodged a mighty storm a few days ago, just catching the extreme north of it, which gave us about an inch of snow, now mostly gone.  Essex County continues to be among the worst Covid outbreaks in Canada, despite a "lockdown" that isn't really much of a lockdown.  Almost 250 cases yesterday, and nearly 200 today.  The main cause--nursing homes and community spread.  Hospitalizations and deaths continue locally, including a young man in his 20s with no underlying health issues.

With a Jupiter/Saturn conjunction coming on Monday evening, we are looking forward to---incessant cloudy days and nights.  December is often the only month of the year where I do not get a single clear night during my two week window of opportunity for observing, and this year has been no exception.  It's doubtful we'll see the sun on Solstice Monday, but this is quite a common theme here, being surrounded by vast bodies of water that is still warmer than the air.

The listening program rocks on.  Currently featured on our evening playlists are the earliest compositions by Beethoven, supplemented by appropriate chapters in Swafford's excellent biography; the Haydn string quartets (a lot of them, and each one unique and charming); Rodelinda, an opera by Handel; and 12 harpsichord fantasias by Telemann, at least one of which we found on line and printed the score, hoping to add it to my next next recital.  Not to mention just listening to whatever we feel like putting on, including internet radio.

But I know you are only reading this blog to find out which films we have been watching.  It's always amusing when a website tries to recommend something for us to watch based on previous views.  Our tastes are so wide and varied that their statistics have no real idea what we might enjoy next.

I chose Mishima, from 1985 and directed by Paul Schrader, as my main weekly selection.  Filmed in Tokyo but essentially made for American audiences, it has yet to be officially shown in Japan.  It sold extremely well there on videocassette when released, however.  The Japanese author is still a very controversial subject in that weird little country.  The film is in four parts, mixing biographical sections with intensely artistic sections from three of his novels.  The music by Philip Glass can seem jarring in places, since the cinematic visuals are so Japanese, and the music so western.  But it mostly works well.  The two hour film, which we both really liked, is backed by two hours of extras, essential viewing to get a full understanding of the film (if not of Mishima himself).  I am interested enough to add a few of his books to my reading list.

 

Now showing on Criterion Channel, along with a lot of essential extras.

 

4 scenes from Mishiima.

Next I chose a film from the "leaving Dec. 31st" list, another comedy directed by Ernst Lubitsch.  The Smiling Lieutenant is a 1931 film of an operetta written by Oscar Straus, a Viennese composer of such things, it stars Maurice Chevalier as a skirt chasing lieutenant in the Emperor's guard who falls for a female violinist Claudette Colbert, but has to marry a spoiled princess instead (Miriam Hopkins).  While I am not a great fan of Chevalier, he is just fine in this role, and his expressive face is fun to watch, especially as he prepares for his court martial for smiling and winking at the princess (he was really aiming at Colbert).  There are many extremely funny moments, though the picture is not as good as the later Trouble In Paradise.  Hopkins almost steals the show as a spoiled little girl princess, who is brought into the full flower of womanhood by her rival, Colbert.  Her transformation is uproarious!  But all the acting is good.  The singing and songs not so much.

 

Leaving Criterion on Dec. 31st.

 

The princess, before her transformation...

...and after.  A highlight of the precode era... 

 

In art news, I chose to show another one of very few Surrealist paintings held by the DIA.  This kind of art went completely out of fashion when it was highly affordable for public museums to buy.  But they didn't buy it, choosing to go after completely boring Monets and Picassos instead.  Today, Surrealist art from the golden age is still very hard to acquire, and very expensive.  Perhaps now having read so much of J. G. Ballard's writing, I have come back to this style with a deeper understanding and appreciation of it, though I have always been a fan.

Andre Masson's The Seeded Earth is every bit as interesting and fun to view as a good film.  At first it seems chaotic and explosive, with its thrusting shapes and vibrant colours.  It's one of the more dynamic of the Surrrealist works, and leads the eye on a merry chase across a landscape filled with a strange beauty in its unsettled canvas.  Can you find the plow in the center?  Man and Nature will always battle and be at odds, but it won't always look this wonderful and mysterious.

The Seeded Earth, by Andre Masson, French (1896-1987).  Oil on canvas, 30" x 40".

Collection Detroit Institute of Arts. 

 

Mapman Mike

 

 

Trail Walk Completed

A few days ago we were just finishing up the latest mild spell.  It was sunny, 49 F, and I felt like walking.  Though done in three segments, I have completed the newest trail in our county system, from Amherstburg to Essex.  I might move on next to the longer intersecting trail, which Deb has mostly completed when she trained for race walking.  The trail is completely flat, and only has one long curve.  Otherwise it cuts straight across agricultural land from town to town, with the smaller community of McGregor in between.  The longer cross trail goes from Windsor to Leamington, a project for 2021 perhaps.  Here are some scenic highlights from the most recent walk.

I walked the trail from Amherstburg (left, on the west side) to Essex (right, on the east side). My trail intersects with the main trail in McGregor, where Deb's red line from years ago shows up. From Google Earth.

Today's distance was 6.6 km.  The entire trail is around 21 or 22k.

 

Sumac grows in abundance along the trail.

 

The walk begins in open farm land, but soon enters a tree-lined avenue, helpful on windy days, and in the intense heat and humidity of summer. 

 

There was still some snow left behind in a few ditches.

 

Of archaeological interest was this ruin of a dune buggy, which once ran up and down the abandoned railway.

 

Erosion in action.

A different ditch, with different snow. 

 

Deb met me at the far end, and she walked in to meet me. After that we went to The Plant Base, a vegan restaurant in A'burg, and got a takeaway lunch.  It has now been 6.5 months since I began keeping myself in shape by walking, stretching, lifting light weights, and doing bicycle crunches and leg lifts.  This is the longest I have been in shape in my adult life without having a specific goal in mind.  How long will it continue?  My plan is to keep going until I can resume serious hiking once again.  We shall see.

In movie news, Deb continues her selection of early Joan Crawford movies.  The latest one was called Sadie McKee, from 1934.  She runs off with a ne'er do well man at the beginning, and instead of meeting her at the marriage bureau, he stands her up, leaving town with a blonde singer and joining her act.  Sadie ends up amusing a very intoxicated millionaire where she dances, and he falls for her and asks her to marry him.  She does, then realized that her husband is a souse, and is never sober.    I liked it up until she sees her old boyfriend again, and decides that she still loves him.  Oh well, it's Hollywood.  The ending is not what is expected, however, as the boyfriend dies of lung cancer or pneumonia, or both, and she divorces the millionaire.  She ends up a different guy, one she has known since they were children together.

Sadie McKee, starring Joan Crawford.

 

Her 2nd choice, also selected from films departing Criterion on the 31st, was called Nostalgia For The Light, a documentary that uses the telescopes and astronomy programs of the Atacama Desert in Chile to re-explore the 1970s torture and disappearance of so many of Chile's citizens.  The tale gets blacker and blacker as it progresses, but it is a must-view film, and very well put together.  Using archival photos and talking to relatives of victims, some of whom still search today for the bones of missing loved ones, it is a story every bit as horrible and important to tell as what Nazis did to Jews in WW 11.  The role played by Nixon and the US government in this tragedy is never mentioned.  7,000 refugees from Chile were successfully welcomed and accepted into Canada in 1973, another fact that is not mentioned.

 

By the time the movie is over, it has pretty much become a true-to-life horror movie.  From 2010.

 

Mapman Mike

Apollo Missions

Way back in 1968 I first got interested in astronomy.  I began with binocular observations of the moon in late November.  In December, Apollo 8 and 3 astronauts successfully orbited the moon and returned safely.  The next craft to go that way would be Apollo 11, followed by #12-17.  Those of us lucky to be alive during those heady days all have our own memories, and we continue to treasure them.  Sometime in the late 1980s I got interested in Brian Eno's ambient music, including one of my favourite albums, called Apollo.  The music is all instrumental, and was used as background for a film of the same name.  The original film, which I was never able to track down, had no speaking, just images and music.

That film was re-imagined, reworked, and renamed in the late 1980s.  This time around dialogue was added to the images, but only voices of Apollo astronauts, mission control, and John F. Kennedy.  Al Reinert, the director, got cooperation from NASA, and Criterion bought the rights to it.  I didn't even realize the film was showing on Criterion until I bought an updated and expanded version of the CD by Eno, but the CD notes talked a lot about the movie, and lo and behold, I instantly put it into the queue and it has now been watched and loved.

What Reinert did was assemble NASA footage from the archives, much of it never seen before, and make the lunar missions into one big mission, showing scenes even from earlier Gemini flights.  It becomes one brilliant film, and instead of focusing on science, he lets the astronauts, in their own words, describe their feelings and response to what they were doing.  Thus we get a totally different take on the Apollo missions, much more spiritual and aesthetic than the science ones we were given back in the day.  We see candid moments aboard the spacecraft never seen before, and we follow along from the Earth to the Moon on a voyage of discovery that has yet to be surpassed in human history. 

 Along with the feature come 4 extras, filling in even more information that the movie could not show.  For example, the movie has no talking heads, but the extra features do interview many of the astronauts years later.  A short feature talks with Alan Bean, who became an amazing artist upon his return (he died in 2018).  The whole collection is available for purchase on DVD, and looks like something I will purchase if it leaves Criterion before I can watch it again a few more times.  If you do not subscribe to Criterion Channel already, you should.  This is only one reason out of about 2,000 to do so.  And if the Apollo lunar missions seem a bit unexciting to you, or you don't really know that much about them, then you need to watch this film.

A don't miss film now showing on Criterion.  

 

My 2nd film choice was selected from the list of movies leaving December 31st. Ernst Lubitsch's Trouble In Paradise is the best 1930s sophisticated comedy even filmed. From 1932, it is rich with visual humour and very funny dialogue, and features some very good acting.  It begins in an operatic Venice, where someone is singing O Solo Mio.  It turns out to be a garbage barge man.  If you have ever been curious about pre-code Hollywood movies, and how totally amazing they could be, you only have to watch this one (in a pristine print, thanks Criterion).  Unforgettable, and eminently rewatchable.  There is another film by Lubitsch I will try to screen before it disappears in the new year.

                                    Now showing on Criterion Channel, and not to be missed!

We are enjoying an extension of Autumn this week, and I hope to complete my epic walk from A'burg to Essex tomorrow.  I only have just over 6 km left to do.  It's supposed to be mild with only a slight chance of rain.

In CV 19 news, our schools will be closing at the end of Friday.  Our county now appears to be the worst in Canada.  Certainly not my doing.  Tomorrow it will likely be announced that we will be returning to full lockdown, starting Monday.  Couldn't happen to a nicer bunch of idiots.

Mapman Mike

 

Your Daily Doodle

Well, I don't actually post daily, but there are enough posts on here (hundreds, if you get into the older stuff) that you can always find something to read in between these ongoing important and vital messages.

What happens when a pianist keeps his current pieces going longer than they should be kept?  Do pieces have a "best before" date?  Lots of pianists and other musicians are having this problem these days.  Do pieces get stale?  In my case, what happens is this: I know I've kept a piece too long if the mistakes I keep making are all related to concentration.  If a driver drives the same route day after day, he soon loses the ability to keep track of the entire route.  In other words, he tunes out the scenery and the road after a while.  Same with commuters, who endure the same tube or train ride day after day.  And the same with musicians who over practice their pieces.  Even though I am also working on two large, much newer pieces for my next next concert, I am still keeping the older ones alive, in the hopes of performing them someday at my next concert.  When is someday?  Someday.

Our county is currently deep in the red zone for Corona 19, though Amherstburg isn't bad at all.  But as the cases pile up, and the hospitals remain filled, a lockdown is looming, likely beginning next Monday.  Not unexpected, as people still dash to and fro in a madness that is hard to describe and to understand.  Going to the mall is such an ingrained behaviour, especially in December, that people just cannot stop doing it.  Even in the healthiest of times, I might go to a major mall twice per year, and never in December.  But I admit to being different.

In movie news, Deb has had two picks.  She choose a selection of short films by Native American Sky Hopinka.  His films are experimental, using images and words that remind me of films from the 1960s.  Except his are in colour and usually to do with Native themes.  His 2016 documentary about Standing Rock is probably the most accessible of his films for most folk.  My favourite one is called I'll remember You As You Were, Not As What You Will Become, and is a tribute to a deceased native poetess.  Some of the imagery is the best I've ever seen, as he captures pow wow dancers using a special filter that makes them appear totally ethereal and spiritual.  Showing on Criterion, and also available on disc.  

 Scene of Native dancer from film by Sky Hopinka.  

 

Deb's choice from "leaving December 31st" was Strange Cargo, starring Joan Crawford, Clark Gable, Peter Lorre, and some guy (Ian Hunter) playing Jesus. It's a strange, very religious film, as a mysterious man helps a group of prisoners escape an island prison, though most of them die brutally in the attempt.  It's somewhat successful as a pure adventure film, but that is not its goal.  This is Gable's first release after Gone With The Wind, and his last pairing with Crawford.  She is amazing in her role as a hard-bitten dancer trying to scrounge out a living, but Gable is too heroic and forceful.  He doesn't seem like a prisoner, but rather a man enraged by his five star hotel because his room service champagne isn't cold enough.  Of course the Catholic League Of Decency banned the film, because it showed God in a natural light, without the trappings of church and priest, and they even objected to the bible passages quoted in the film. LOL.

Showing until Dec. 31st on Criterion.  

 

In art news, here is another fantastic DIA image, a print by French artist August Louis Lepere (1849-1918). Whenever I see a death date of 1918 I immediately think of either WW1, or the flu epidemic.  Finding info on him is not easy, so I don't know which, if either.  This image strikes a chord with us this week, as we just finished watching the 1958 six part serial called Quatermass and the Pit.  It's still one of the best SF TV shows ever created, despite being limited as to special effects.  If you've seen the series, then the following image will make more sense.  Even if not, it's a stunning image in itself, a favourite of mine.

 

1890, wood engraving (9" x 8").  Collection DIA. 

 

In music listening news, we heard a wonderful digital concert on-line yesterday sponsored by the DSO.  It was a jazz quartet (double bass, acoustic, drums, sax, and piano.  Cyrus Chestnut is a mountain of a man, and a heck of a jazz pianist.  He and his group performed music from A Charlie Brown Christmas, extending it to longer than 90 minutes with all the wonderful improv that ensued.  Good stuff!  Our home listening program includes continuing on with the complete string quartets of Haydn, Art of the Violin by Locatelli, the complete works of Beethoven, in chronological order, and tonight we start an opera by Handel, Rodelinda.  That doesn't count the stuff we just throw on during the day, such as Orchestra Baobab, Brian Eno, Ancient FM internet radio, or just about anything else.

 

Mogollon, our remaining cat, has now made his permanent home on the living room couch, listening and enjoying music as much as we do.  Because he never got along with Gustav, he used to always be confined to one back room when we weren't around, and he always had to sleep there, too.  Suddenly he finds himself King of the Castle, and is taking full advantage.

 

Mapman Mike 

 

 

 

Gaudi

Our second little blast of winter has gone the same way as the first one; all the snow has melted, and we are having modestly mild days.  We are now inside our 6 weeks of darkness, being the three weeks before and after winter solstice.  Of course our 42 degree latitude means it never really gets dark all the time here; even at the solstice we still manage 9 hours with the sun above the horizon.  But it is relative, and it's plenty dark by 5:30 pm now.  It is also time for the new astronomy session.  I really lucked out in November, but will be lucky if I can grab one good night out of the deal this month.  Any bit of wind combined with cold temps and I'm done, since I literally am out standing in a field.

 

Our county, Essex, is spending the week in the "red" zone, as we are breaking records for the number of Covid cases each day.  Our hospitals are getting swamped, too.  Green, yellow, orange, red, then lockdown.  We were green just a few weeks ago, and have been proceeding through all the pretty colours since then.  We hit red on Monday.  By next week we will likely be in lockdown mode.  To us it makes little difference.  We are home except for groceries and pet food.  It's becoming apparent that a vaccine will not end the pandemic, either.  What will?  Nothing humans could agree on.  I wonder how tackling climate change will be possible, if we can't stay home and drive less for a major disease.

 

We have received our 3rd National Geographic magazine since subscribing.  October was all about the latest dinosaur research, November was given over to Covid, including a lot about Detroit (where the disease is currently very subdued compared to the rest of the US), and December is given over to the Great Lakes.  I was hoping it would come with a wall map of same, like in the good old days, but it was not to be. 

 

In movie news we watched Antonio Gaudi, a film by Hiroshi Teshigahara.  It's more like a visual poem, as it shows most of the architect's greatest work without an y talking, only music.  It certainly got me interested in a return to Barcelona.  It came with 3 extras, all quite good.

 

Now showing on Criterion.  

 

That was Deb's final pick from her 3 for festival weekend. Now it was my turn for a single from the collection, followed by a pick from the movies leaving Criterion on December 31st. This will be followed by two for Deb, similarly chosen.  I chose five short films featuring W. C. Fields, including his first one called The Pool Shark, from 1915.  I really love this man, and had never seen any of his short films before now.  I claim It's A Gift, his 1934 feature, to be the funniest film ever made.  After the silent film we saw four talkies from the early 1930s: The Golf Specialist, where even after 20 minutes of trying he cannot get his shot off; The Fatal Glass of Beer, with a song of the same name which he sings, hilariously; The Pharmacist, which ends in his shop getting destroyed by a gunfight between police and a robber--Fields is saved by his daughter's boyfriend "Cuthbert"; and The Barber Shop, where we see and hear Fields perform on the double bass.

 

Leaving on Dec. 31st is The Awful Truth from 1937, a classic film starring Cary Grant, Irene Dunne, and Ralph Bellamy, a bedroom farce that apparently was mostly improvised rather than scripted and rehearsed.  Cary Grant's face is priceless to watch, as he tries his best to scupper his wife's relationship with Ralph Bellamy.  The couple are divorcing, but having more than second thoughts as time goes on.  Lots of fun to watch, and to read about behind the scenes.  Nominated for multiple Oscars, it won two.

 

Showing on Criterion until Dec. 31st.  

 

I mentioned a while back that I would show part of a New Mexico map from time to time.  This is part of a 1:24,000 quad I was recently studying.  It appears to resemble one of Mandlebrot's perfect examples of a fractal.  We heard him speak once at a large science convention in Detroit.  It was a small room, pretty packed, and I had never heard of fractals.  I have been keenly interested in them ever since, and have two computer programs to play with that generate them, colour them, and animate them.

 

Part of a NM topo map, showing canyons, mesas, streams, and very rough roads.  I love spending time exploring these maps, and several of them have been the basis for some incredible hiking trips. 

 

In other news, a few days ago a large freighter got stranded in the shipping channel in Amherstburg.  It was just freed today and sent on its way.  Approximately 30 ships have been stacked up in the river and beyond, waiting for the channel to reopen.  Tonight there is a parade of ships passing by, their low but audible rumble making our radiators vibrate, not to mention the walls.  They will likely pass by all night.  Luckily the river has no ice yet.

 

And finally, a photo from a Detroit newspaper, showing one of the falcons that live on and around the nearly 400' Ambassador Bridge, as it stares right into the live cam.  An amazing photo!

 

 

 Mapman Mike

 

 

 

November Books Read

 A touch of winter has returned, as predicted.  About 2" of heavy, wet snow is sitting out there.  Our vehicle is inside the garage, so no snow clearing required, except around the mail box and the bird feeding area.  Last night was our full moon celebration, with a lovely wood fire, a freshly baked coconut moon cake, and lots of music.  We listen a lot to internet radio, especially a channel called Ancient FM, which plays medieval and renaissance music.  We played a new CD, The Call of Rome, with only vocals.  I had heard one of the pieces on radio on my astronomy drives, and ordered the CD, which is amazing from start to finish.  The absolute highlight is a fairly long selection by Allegri, a compilation of Misere settings of startling beauty and emotional depth. 

I read ten books last month, and am almost finished my 11th.  Nine of them are by authors from the Avon/Equinox SF Rediscovery Series.  I am now 4 1/2 years into this project, and well over 500 books.  I honestly don't know when it will end, or if it will end, but I am down to ten authors (from 24), and I still have a pile of books on the floor beside my bed.  I mean a pile of books, as in two long columns, not to mention my stack of "other" books, unrelated to the series.  And I am so thankful for Kindle, which has so many old and out of print SF novels available, which saves me trying to track them down on websites, pay for postage, etc, not to mention the space they save.  I have a small truckload of those awaiting me as well as the physical books.

The month began, as it has for the past several months, with a novel by Piers Anthony.  I am slowly coming to the end of his solo novels, which means I will have to commit to his long series or not.  A few sound quite good.  His main series, Xanth, after having read the first two books, no longer interests me at all.  So that saves me reading about fifty books.  I have read the first book of his Adept Apprentice series, and am about to read the 2nd.  I will decided after book 2 if I will continue with this series or not.  Last month I read Shade of The Tree, a Stephen King clone of a horror novel.  Due to the fact that most horror movies and modern horror novels manipulate their audiences far too much, I am not a fan.  Though well written and sometimes very scary, this novel is no exception.  The father, who knows that very strange and scary things are happening at his house, still leaves his young kids alone with a babysitter.  Not once.  Not twice.  But three times.  Even though something bad happened before he left, and after each time he left.  That more or less ruined the tale for me.  The ending was good, and quite original, however.  There is a good deal of violence, including violence done to animals.  I am not a fan of that, either.

Next came To The Stars, Harry Harrison's 2nd book of the Wheelworld trilogy.  Readers of this column may remember that last month I reviewed the first novel, not much caring for it, especially the ending.  With the hero now sent off to a distant farming planet, we follow his survival adventure here among superstitious folk controlled by the "elders."  Harrison gets back to what he is astoundingly good at, namely planetary adventure writing.  This is a remarkable book, and can really stand alone without the first book.  There are wonderful descriptions and happenings (it really is a "road movie" kind of book) that will never be forgotten.  Like his Deathworld setting, this planet is unique, fierce, and unforgiving.  A wonderful creation!

The Star Venturers by Kenneth Bulmer is another fun pulp-style SF adventure, with big Bill Jarrett hoodwinked into finding a lost brother for a very powerful princess.  Bulmer frequently moves from planet to planet in his stories, and we seldom get the real feel of a place like we do with Harrison.  But Bulmer's stories are just as good, and move along at a rapid pace.  Fun to read, but not memorable.

After every two books I read a chapter from Swafford's huge biography of Beethoven.  I have now read 9 chapters, and we have started the massive 2020-2021 Beethoven listening project, now that we have his complete works in the house.  In my reading Beethoven is now 22, has left Bonn forever, and is settled in Vienna.  Our listening program is far behind that; the composer is only 14 and already writing very memorable music, such as the three lovely piano quartets we recently heard.

Next came Footsteps of Angels by E. C. Tubb, an author whom I really like, as in one of my favourite writers.  This one is classic stuff, as a father (a very, very rich father) goes in search of a cure for his daughter's sudden disease, which saw her go from young and healthy one moment, to a virtual zombie the next.  Similar things are happening elsewhere in the solar system, but no pattern or cause can be found, let alone a cure.  This is a really good story, with some actual science thrown in, too.

Starchild is the 2nd novel of the trilogy with the same name, by Jack Williamson and Frederick Pohl.  Having began two trilogies at virtually the same time (this one and the one by Harrison), I liked the first book here more than the first book by Harrison, but in the 2nd story Harrison did better than Williamson/Pohl.  Starchild is a really good story, just not as good as the first one in the series.  As a few freedom loving humans fight against total control by Earth's Machine, a 2nd, duplicate machine is discovered in space.  The first, original machine has gone mad, and the lost one plans on taking over.  But there is the Starchild to thwart things.  We don't know much about the Starchild yet, but it seems to be an intelligent star, or something like it.  I will know more this time next month!

Next was an excellent story by Michael Moorcock called The Black Corridor.  Not too far from a Barry Malzberg theme, we get to watch first hand as a slightly mad astronaut to begin with goes stark raving looney aboard his ship bound for a nearby star.  The rest of his crew is in suspended animation, and he is three years into his solo five year journey.  Taut, suspenseful, and full of surprises, this is a great tale from 1969, and would make a fabulous film.

 

Though I am saddened to report that I have now read all the novels by J. G. Ballard, I still have 1500 pages of short stories ahead of me, as well as the pleasure of rereading most of his fiction.  His last novel is called Kingdom Come, and Ballard finally gets around to tackling the shopping mall phenomenon.  I mean the really, really large shopping mall, one of those super malls that has everything, including devoted life long fans and consumer-drugged shoppers.  Ballard is a flawed genius, but a genius no less, and his writing is completely wonderful, dream-like, poetic, absurd, violent, loving, frustrating, and nearly every other adjective you might add.  Kingdom Come is another brilliant piece, scoring a solid 4/4, like his three previous novels.  We know the man suffered as a child, and later when his wife was tragically killed.  Somehow he turned all of that suffering into some of the greatest writing the English language has ever had the pleasure to reveal.

Barry Malzberg wrote the novelization of the screenplay for Phase 4, a SF movie from 1974.  I honestly cannot remember if I have seen the movie, but it is available on-line for viewing sometime soon.  Although the story is quite good, and Malzberg does an excellent job of maintaining suspense and developing characters, it is ultimately undone by the silly ending.  I am not a great fan of ants and their doings.  In fact, our yearly battle with the critters in our house (which we have continually won, so far), makes me dislike the little buggers quite a bit.  This is not a good book to read (or movie to view) if you are afraid of ants.  I'm glad I read it outside of ant season.

Written in 1962, James Blish's A Life For The Stars is the 2nd novel in his 4-book Cities In Flight series.  This must be at least my fourth reading, and I enjoy it every single time.  The concept of cities leaving Earth whole and flying out into space to seek their fortunes has to be one of the very greatest SF ideas never made into a movie.  The first book of the series sets the background, back in the 1980s.  This book boots us into the 4th millenium, and we are finally off on a few adventures.  Wonderful stuff!  A TV series based on these adventures would also be quite welcome.

My non-related book this month was the first novel written by Joseph Conrad, called Almayer's Folly.  I read Conrad in high school, but didn't fall in love with his prose until after university, when I read several of his novels, novellas, and short stories.  I had always hoped to come back to Conrad some day.  Thanks to Chantal Akerman's movie of the same name, my interest was instantly rekindled (pun not intended), and I purchased his complete works for $1.99 on Kindle.  Though the character of Almayer is perfectly portrayed in the film, his daughter Nina's character is completely changed.  In the movie, both father and daughter go mad at the end, whereas in the novel Nina escapes her incredibly torpid life with her father, leaving and marrying a man who loves her, and having a child.  In the novel much is made of Nina being white, so Conrad must have envisioned her as less dark than the native people.  In the movie she is very dark, but as beautiful as described by the author.  It's hard to say what it is that gets me about Conrad's writing; he just vibrates my brain like few authors can.  It's as if I lived back then, and was a minor character in one of his stories, knowing exactly how things were and how people felt about what they were doing.  His scathing look at the effects of colonialism and the human suffering it caused doesn't hurt, either.  A pretty solid first novel, and I feel like I am home again.

The lovely and enchanting Nina, as played by Aurora Marion in the film version of Almayer's Folly.

  

And speaking of movies, I have one more report to make.  We watched a great print of James Whale's 1932 The Old Dark House, a funny, spooky, and totally weird horror movie.  We had seen it before, but in a very bad print on DVD.  Starring Boris Karloff, Melvyn Douglas, and Charles Laughton, it's definitely worth a peek.  "Would you like a po_ta_toe?"  We are about to view a 1984 Japanese documentary called Antonio Gaudi.

 

 I'll finish up with an appropriate work of art from the DIA's collection.

 

A Winter Moon, Lauren. Addison Thomas Millar, American, 1860-1913, from his Holland series.

Etching and aquatint printed in black ink on wove paper. 8 1/2" x 7".  From around the turn of the century. 

 

Mapman Mike