News Fit To Print

 It's been a pretty calm week around the Homestead, and we are both hoping for more of the same.  Weather continues to be autumnal, and it's one of the greenest holiday periods we've ever seen.  We had a lot of rain on Christmas Day, spoiling my chance for an afternoon of hiking at Point Pelee National Park.  Deb wanted to spend a longer time with her mom on Saturday, so I had plans for a shorter visit, and then to go hiking.  Instead, I came home for a few hours, then drove back to pick up Deb in Kingsville.  Today it is bright and sunny.  Of course.

I spoke with my parents at length both on Christmas Eve and Christmas night.  They are both fine and doing quite well, though Dad is still barely mobile due to a bad knee.  As our local Covid cases surge, it looks like we will be hunkered down in January.  It's usually a good month for such activity anyway.  And of course it has been continually cloudy at night, so astronomy has been a no go.  At least I've been practicing piano regularly, and doing a lot of reading.  I usually read about 2 1/2 hours each day, and practice piano about 1 1/2 hours each day.  The exercise program continues as well, around 2 1/2 hours per week, until more is needed.

The shipping channels over here are as busy as ever, but the northern locks will likely close soon.  I have seen shipping continue year round once or twice, and this might be another year for it.  The Amherstburg coast guard ice breaker is in place, but there is no ice in sight yet.  I read a fun article yesterday, on the Accu Weather website, about the tradition of wanting a "white" Christmas, referring to fresh, fluffy snow on the ground.  I always wondered who to blame for such nonsense, and it seems I now have my target in sight.  It likely all started with Charles Dickens, but since then it's gotten way out of hand.  Kind of like ground hog day.  People seem starved for any time of "tradition", rather than trying to establish their own, or observe the real ones that have been around for millennia, such as the solstices.  It's a funny world peopled by funny people.

Our own Solstice Day celebration was a blast.  It was just barely cold enough to warrant an indoor wood fire, though it was of shorter duration than other years.  We sampled the first disc (of four) of Philip Glass' Music In Twelve Parts, and then listened to the CD called Glassworks, and another one called Philip Glass-Piano Works, performed by Vikingur Olafsson.  He is a favourite pianist whom we heard perform in London several years ago.  I already chose a piece from this collection to perform on my next next recital (probably late 2022).  And tonight we will give Einstein on the Beach a go.  We purchased a Blue Ray disc of the opera in early December, from Germany, and it arrived Dec. 22nd.

Just as the pandemic was getting underway in the late winter of 2020, we had booked flights to San Diego.  We had to cancel at the last minute, as Deb wasn't feeling well.  That week the disease exploded in California, so it's just as well we didn't travel then.  We had full insurance to cancel (through Orbitz) and got a full refund on our flight, hotel, and car.  So imagine my surprise when I looked at our Orbitz account recently and found out that we each have $373 in Delta flight credits, good until December 2022.  I don't know if it's a mistake, or why they are there.  We were refunded by the insurance company, and yet the flights are still available to us.  Hopefully we will get a chance to use these credits in 2022.

Other than movie talk, that's all the news for now.  So, on to movies. 

My two choices last week were Heaven Can Wait, directed by Lubitsch and from 1943, and Belladonna of Sadness, an animated feature from 1973 Japan.  Of the two, I preferred the Lubitsch, a gentle comedy about a man dying, meeting the devil, and telling him his life story, before being sentenced.  It was in colour, and had some wonderful lines.

Showing on Criterion until Friday night.

Belladonna is an adult animated feature, purportedly taking place in medieval times.  On her wedding day, a young woman is raped by the lord of the manor and his friends.  The movie is graphically sexual, though largely through symbolic images, and violent.  It doesn't pull any punches, as the woman survives and slowly becomes corrupted by vengeance.  The film is sometimes hard to watch because of flickering imagery, and should have come with an epilepsy warning.  Some of the animation techniques created some truly beautiful and stunning imagery, often seemingly at odds with the unrelenting horror of the material.  A very strange film from the psychedelic era.

Showing on Criterion through Friday.  

Deb's two choices were also from the Leaving Dec. 31st film list, and just as opposite one another as my two choices.  First up was The Mummy, from 1932, starring Boris Karloff as the reactivated man in love with his princess.  It is remarkable how easily he adjusted to life in 20th C. Cairo, after having been asleep since around 1700 B C.  He also has a very stylish apartment, with an indoor pool of water that gets remarkably good reception on various live channels, as well as ones from thousands of years ago.  Some creepy moments, but mostly still fun, in a dusty sort of way.

One of the great movie posters of the 30s!  Showing until Friday on Criterion. 

Eat A Bowl of Tea is from 1989, by director Wang Wang.  Based on a novel by Louis Chu, the setting is 1949 New York, just as the American government is finally allowing Chinese immigrants to return to China and bring women and families back to live.  With the current local population totally male, a young man makes the journey back to China, finds a bride, and returns with her to new York.  Dad immediately wants a grandson, but there is trouble on the horizon, as the son cannot seem to consummate the marriage.  Mostly a funny glance back at a very weird time, there is enough drama to satisfy those without a sense of humour.  Well acted, especially by the old timers.

Showing on Criterion until Friday. 

Mapman Mike

 

 

Winter Solstice 2021

Just watched a beautiful Solstice Eve sunset tonight, and there is hope we might even see the sun tomorrow, too.  It's seasonally cool, which is good news for our all day indoor wood fire, and we have a suitable stack of Philip Glass CDs ready to roll out.  We have to pop out tonight for some groceries, usually done on Tuesdays.  Otherwise we are all set for our big holiday!

On Saturday the weather was quite different.  I went to Kingsville with Deb, as I needed birdseed. While she visited her mom, I visited Lakeside park, mostly reading.  However, it was raining hard and 33 F.  Let me tell you, that was a cold rain!  And there was an ill wind blowing too, from onshore.  One or two degrees colder and we would have had a nasty ice storm on our hands.  I got out of the car at one point for a five minute stretch, managing to take three photos.  I took a quick walk to the garden area, searching for flowers.  I found one group of very tiny ones, still mysteriously blooming on one of the darkest, most miserable days of the year. There might be a message in there somewhere for us all.

A dreary and cold day at Lake Erie.  It was raining and 33 F.

A lonely and damp bench at Lakeside Par, Kingsville.
 

Four tiny flowers were blooming in the gardens at Lakeside Park.  Not your usual December in Canada, even if we are in the deep south. 

We watched Alois Nebel, a Czech film from 2011 that fits in well with our ongoing Czech New Wave film festival.  It's in b & w, with a theme that barely distinguishes in from some of its 1960s counterparts.  Only this film is animated in rotoscope, giving it a timeless beauty and sense of depth and perspective that regular films can seldom achieve.  An older railway employee, a station master at a small station, has a nervous breakdown and is put in an institution.  He loses his job, and when he is released he has to go to Prague headquarters to see about another job.  While there he meets a woman, and they seem to hit it off.  The animation allows for some fine special effects, and the quiet story has a dark undertone of the Nazi takeover during the war, as well as the Czech people who collaborated.  At the time of the present story, the Soviets are just leaving the country, and a new democratic president has just been sworn in.  Well worth watching.

Showing on Criterion until Dec. 31st. 

Deb's main weekend choice was Somewhere In The Night, from 1946 and directed by Joseph Mankiewicz.  Before we got the Criterion channel, I thought I had seen most of the great noir films.  I was wrong.  Everywhere you look, there is another great one that we haven't seen.  John Hodiak loses his memory after an act of bravery in Iwo Jima, and is sent home.  He becomes embroiled in finding another man who he thinks was his friend, who was involved in a docklands murder and a two million dollar heist.  With a great supporting cast and some fun lines, the atmosphere is thick and dark.

Now showing on Criterion, and worth catching. 

Deb's leaving Dec. 31st choice is East of Eden, and we should finish it up tonight. 

Happy Solstice to one and all; never fear, the sun is about to come back to us, after its long journey south of the equator.

Mapman Mike

 

 

Beethoven and Fitness

Mid-December marks 18 months of personal fitness for me, the longest streak since my late teens.  Had I been stranded in New Mexico for the pandemic, I would have hiked virtually any mountain I desired.  There are still a lot of them, plus a few I would love to reclimb.  Treadmill walking is somewhat different from real walking, however.  This past September, when I did a short trail hike and climb with my niece in Sudbury, I found I had to be quite careful walking on uneven surfaces, and that my balance was easily thrown off.  Before undertaking any mountain hiking I would, of course, have to get used to walking on rocky and uneven surfaces again.  But I figure that I am permanently about 4-5 weeks away from what I call "mountain fitness."  So there would be time to get on trails here before heading back into the mountains.  I fervently hope we can travel by Spring to NM, possibly by car.  I know I said the same thing last year at this time.

Turning now to Beethoven, the anniversary of his naming day was Dec. 16th.  We began our massive biographical and listening program just over a year ago.  While I knew that we wouldn't be finished in one year, I didn't realize how long it might take.  We do some listening every evening, and Beethoven comes up every third evening.  So it probably will take a year, as in 365 nights, to complete the project.  We have probably completed 125 by now.  And where are we?  We are still in the early 1800s, around 1802.  His hearing is going, his health is bad, and he has yet to write his 2nd symphony.  But the Op 18 quartets are done, and many fine piano sonatas, along with two piano concerti.  His early works are still trying to please his mainly aristocratic audiences, though he has been poking quite outside the Haydn/Mozart classical tradition many times, too.  We are following the Biamonti numbering system, which goes as close to chronological as possible, and we have just passed the 300 mark (out of about 900).  I am reading ahead in the biography, and penciling in paragraphs for us to read together as we go along.  Sometimes we stop on a certain piece and hear it in multiple versions.  For example we listened to the 1st Symphony four times, all with different orchestras and conductors.  The one we liked best was directed by John Eliot Gardner, using an orchestra much like Beethoven would have had access to.

In movie news, we briefly turned to Prime for a feature film.  Called The Electric Life of Louis Wain, it stars Benedict Cumberbatch as an eccentric and psychologically fragile artist (Britain seems to have been blessed with an ungodly amount of them).  Most famous in his day for his illustrations of cats, the story of his life is told with great sensitivity and detail.  The only son among a family of girls, it is his responsibility to bring home a paycheck, and though he does his best, he is not much of a success.  Cumberbatch is totally brilliant as the increasingly mad artist, and the make up department did a superb job of aging him as the film proceeds.  You do not have to love cats to love this movie.  It is a beautiful film from start to finish.

Showing on Prime in Canada. 

Deb's "going away this month" choice from Criterion was Out of the Past, Robert Mitchum starring as a private eye who crosses his hoodlum customer.  This is a great and classic film noir, fun to watch from beginning to end.  If anyone trusts a dame in a film noir, you know there is going to be trouble ahead.  Mitchum gets into plenty of it here.  Lots of cigarette smoking, too.  It becomes quite obvious watching these old adult movies, especially the b & w ones, that Hollywood was vastly responsible for encouraging smoking.  With he-men like Mitchum, and beauties like Jane Greer smoking up a storm, how could their fans resist doing the same?

Leaving Criterion Dec. 31st. 

My pick of the week was a very strange film, one of the restored ones from the World Cinema Project.  Called Revenge, it was made by a Kazakhstan director working with a writer from Korea.  If that isn't strange enough, then try the film sometime.  A teacher, in a fit of anger, kills a young girl, then flees the village.  The parents are devastated.  When a son is born, he is brought up to get revenge.  While the story sounds simple, it is anything but.  We travel to many different places, and time passes.  At times we almost forget the revenge element, but it eventually comes back, in a haunting way.  The film comes with an 18' interview with the director, who speaks English well and describes his huge respect and fascination with the writer.  He tries to follow the book as closely as he can, but had to make some concessions at the end.  While certainly worth watching, there are some scenes of animal cruelty that are very disturbing.

Now showing on Criterion. 

Turning briefly back to art, and staying on the theme of eccentric artists, here's one from the DIA that comes with no biographical info whatsoever.  And so I will present the image with no words from me.

False Faces, 1953.  Elemer A. Lakatos, American, 1910-1957. Overall: 20 × 24 inches. No more information is available.  

Mapman Mike

 

 

 

 

Another November

While it's not unusual here for months to become reversed as to climate, this December is definitely wackier than most.  We are amidst a strong streak of mild weather more suited to late October and early November, as we race towards Winter Solstice.  The vicious tornadoes that ravaged Kentucky and Illinois overnight Friday manifested themselves here as very high winds and thunderstorms with heavy downpours.  We got 1.2" of rain.  None of our trees blew down, and our power stayed on.  However, there were many trees and poles down in the county and city, with plenty of short term power outages.  Most Great lakes shipping came to a standstill, as the captains wisely steered their vessels into sheltered coves.  Things are back to normal today, and it is sunny, mild, but still breezy.

In domestic news, our fridge died on Thursday.  We had a $90 repair bill to tell us that the fridge had lost its freon due to a leak, and was no longer any good.  After another $2300 spent we have a new fridge, the best one we have ever owned.  However, it didn't fit through the door into the kitchen.  I don't wish to go into any details at this time, as they are too painful to recall, but the fridge is now in its place and working like a charm.  In upcoming domestic news, we also need a new washing machine.  Look for an update on this topic next week.  It's a good thing that we don't have any travel expenses these days.  We still have a $3000 tree to be cut down in our far back yard, though after the recent wind storm our tree guy will likely be far behind again, with us pushed back to the bottom of his list.

In art news, I came across this tiny print by one of the German Romantic artists.  It's the only piece in the Detroit collection by him, but we have seen some of his wonderful landscape paintings, mostly in a travelling exhibit held in Toronto many years ago now.  The image below is larger than its actual size.  Deb is thinking of using it as a location in one of her upcoming short films.  If ever a set for a fairy tale was etched on to paper, this is it.

Old Chapel Under The Trees Surrounded By A Wall, 19th C.  Carl Friedrich Lessing, German (1808-1880).  Etching printed in black ink on woven paper, 3 3/4" x 4 7/8". 

 I have two movies that need reporting, both black and white and both shown on Criterion.  The first one was a tale of highway robbery, starring James Mason and feisty Margaret Lockwood as two swashbuckling highway robbers.  Called The Wicked Lady (great title!), it is from 1945 and was directed by Leslie Arliss.  From the blurb on Criterion's website: "This nasty, subversive treat was the most commercially successful of all the Gainsborough melodramas."  And it's just in time for Christmas!  There is a 1983 remake floating around somewhere, starring Faye Dunaway.

Now showing on the Criterion Channel.

My going away choice (yes, Wicked Lady was my choice!) was called Cluny Brown, from 1946 and directed by Ernest Lubitsch.  Though we had seen it before, it had been many years.  This is a very funny movie starring Charles Boyer and Jennifer Jones, about a young woman who must "find her place" in English society.  Boyer plays a Czech writer fleeing the Nazis just before the war, and Jones is a free spirit who loves working as a plumber.  She gets a job as a maid in a quiet household, and finds out the hard way that Boyer, whom she had met earlier and hit it off with, is a guest at the house.  The picture is a complete send up of the British class system, and is quite hilarious in places, while making its point about how one should behave and not behave.  Boyer is great in this role, one of the few times I really enjoyed his acting.  Movies this good never seem to age, either.  Una O'Connor has no speaking lines, but contributes some very funny moments, making the most of her small role.

Showing on Criterion until Dec. 31st/21 

Mapman Mike

 

Winter Sampler

 The past two days have seen our coolest temps so far this season.  Tuesday it never got above 0 C, but today it managed to just sneak over the freezing mark.  However, predictions are for it to warm up again, through Solstice if we are lucky.  There is no snow; we had 3" early in the month but it is long gone.  We managed to get through an entire astronomy cycle with no clear nights suitable for dark sky work.  This is typical for late November and December, so I am not too surprised.

I'll begin with some art prints today, and move on later to movies.  The following two prints from the Detroit collection come from 1551 (earlier than Bruegel's signature works).  They make a pair, with confusing titles (see below).  These are fascinating works, though I have never seen them on display.

Two Pines and a Cabin Across From A River Town, 1551.  Hans Sebald Lautensack, German (1524-60).  Etching printed in black ink, 6 5/8" x 4 3/8".  Detroit Institute of Arts.  This is the left side of the pair.

Right half of the pair.  See above for info.  6" x 4 1/2".

Deb combined the two prints on her photo program for a full landscape view.  Detroit has two other prints by the artist, both in landscape format.  Of course even in the mid 1500s it was ideal to live alone in the forest, but near a city.  My dream. 

In film watching news, Deb chose two shorter films as her main selection last weekend, and another Robert Mitchum feature from a Chandler novel.  First up was a 62' documentary on Lotte Reiniger, the woman who made outstanding animated films using cut out silhouettes, made famous by her feature film The Adventures of Prince Achmed.  Next came a 62 minute animated feature by Don Hertzfeldt, called It's Such A Beautiful Day.  What a great little masterpiece of filmmaking this is, and I highly recommend it if it can be found anywhere.  Here is a cut from the Criterion description:  "It relates the experiences, memories, and hallucinations of Bill, a stick-figure everyman undergoing an intense psychological journey as he attempts to repair his shattered mind. What emerges is an at once profound and almost unbearably moving meditation on life, loss, death, and the human condition."  Not to be missed!

Now showing on Criterion. 

The Big Sleep is from 1978, directed by Michael Winner.  Though this Robert Mitchum remake has its good moments, it is a letdown after the previous Farewell, My Lovely.  For one thing, Philip Marlowe is in London instead of LA.  For another, there are much fewer of Chandler's quotes in this film, and the supporting cast, despite a list of brilliant names, never really seems to connect with the old school private detective.  And for another, the script just isn't as good, either.  Mitchum is perfect, however, and the movie is fun to watch, wondering when Marlowe will get hit on the head or shot at.

Showing through Dec. 31st on Criterion. 

Until next time...

Mapman Mike

 

Celebrating Weekends

Since full retirement for me at the end of August 2019, my life has been one extended long weekend.  And yet so ingrained is the ritual of having two days off work (though not always during school teaching, when we often spent music time with students on weekends), that I still continue it today, though mostly tongue in cheek.  Deb has returned to a sort of half day work week, three times each week.  The only time she gets two days off from visiting the home where her mother resides is on Thursdays and Fridays.  So her weekend begins Wednesday night, and ends Friday night.  I am able to stick to the old schedule, so my weekend begins Friday night and ends Sunday night.  How are my weekends different from the regular work/play week?  They differ very slightly.  On Friday, after my final hour of piano practice, I announce that my weekend has begun.  Deb rolls her eyes.  Saturday nights we watch DSO Live From Orchestra Hall at 8 pm, pretending we are in Detroit and watching the concert there (more about visiting Detroit for real in a moment).  Sunday mornings we have a special breakfast and listen to a Bach Cantata as we eat.  Deb makes waffles one week, and I make French toast the next week.  Sunday is also the day I do the laundry.  And that's about it, folks.  The party is 24/7 around here, let me tell you.

Deb has received her 3rd Moderna vaccine shot, and I will be able to book my 3rd Pfizer beginning December 13th.  Once I triple fully vaccinated, I will consider a day trip to Detroit to visit the DIA, and stop and pick up some ale at a favourite taproom/shop.  Canadians can now visit across the border without having to have a test in able to return.  A phone app must be downloaded to show when returning as proof of vaccine.  They don't accept paper.  This may all change yet again, due to the Omicron variant, plus the fact that Michigan is one of the world's hot spots now for Covid.  Nothing can ever be certain until the world is 100 % vaccinated.  In other words......

There are three film views to briefly report.  Deb's going away choice was Kazan's 1976 The Last Tycoon, with a terrific performance by Robert De Niro as a successful but bullying Hollywood studio boss.  It has a cast filled with big stars, including Tony Curtis, Jeanne Moreau, Robert Mitchum, and many others.  The film starts out okay but really bogs down once De Niro falls for a beautiful face, and can't live without the woman.  However, she can live without him, and eventually does so.  It's an age old tale, retold yet again.  There are a few fine moments, and it's fun seeing all the famous faces, but overall this is not so great a film.

No longer showing on Criterion.

Antonioni's 1982 Identification of a Woman has a story that isn't too far off Kazan's.  A directionless movie director walks around for two hours not really knowing what he wants (besides sex, of which he wants a lot, and we get to see most of it in graphic detail), and ruining his chances with women every chance he gets.  He is an older man, selfish and set in his ways, and not liable to change any of them for anyone.  There are some lovely shots of Rome and Venice, some great interior shots, and far too many sex scenes.  We more or less get the point after one such extended scene, but I guess the director really wanted us not to miss out on any fun.  The editing in this film is often bizarre, jumping abruptly from one scene with two people to the next day in a scene with the same two people.  Not a film I would likely rewatch.

Now showing on Criterion.

1975's Dick Richards' film Farewell, My Lovely stars Robert Mitchum as one of the best Philip Marlowe actors ever seen.  He is so perfect in the role, and the script allows much more of Chandler's wit and insight that ever seen before.  Moose Maloy hires Marlowe to find his "Velma."  The plot thickens, is stirred, shaken, and tossed about, and Marlowe ends up with several bumps on his head, and a few other inconveniences besides.  Charlotte Rampling makes a perfect stand in for Lauren Bacall, and there are some great old cars, too.  Quite an amazing film! Also starring Harry Dean Stanton and Sylvester Stallone.

Showing on Criterion until Dec. 31st. 

Mapman Mike

 

November Reading

I polished off another author from the Avon/Equinox original 24, reading my last book by James Blish.  I am down to Silverberg, Anthony, Harrison, Bulmer, Tubb, Williamson, Moorcock, and Malzberg.  Thus, if I continue to read one book per month by these authors, I will have more time in the latter days of the month to read any other books on my list.  So besides the above 9 authors, including, Blish, I managed to read three other books last month.  Let's get started.

Silverberg's Book of Skulls has been hailed by many as a very fine story.  Truth be told, I found it more than slightly boring to read.  Four college boys, representing a wide spectrum of white boys (again, the author mostly excludes girls from his narrative, except for sex), set out for Arizona, in search of a cult that promises everlasting life.  A chapter at a time is devoted to each boy, with the narrative seldom repeating, but marching on toward the desert.  None of the boys are the least bit likable, and I hardly cared what happened to any of them.  The old scrolls say that four must set forth, but that two will be sacrificed.  No problem; it'll be somebody else, not me.  It takes a long time to arrive at the monastery complex, where very old but hearty priests await them eagerly.  The boys begin to under rigourous training, which some take to and one doesn't.  The book is classified as SF, even though it really isn't, and was nominated in the early 70s for a Hugo!  I was not impressed at all.

I continue, for now, to waste some time each month reading Piers Anthony, hoping that someday he will recover his senses and write a great book once again, like he used to.  His writing has become so obviously commercial that virtually every new book of his I read causes me pain and frustration.  Hard Sell is a supposedly comical story that juveniles might find fun to read, though I doubt there is any appeal for adult readers.  I found myself skimming through a lot of this story about a man who can't seem to hold onto a job.  As usual, he is honest and moral, and will not go one millimeter against his beliefs.  Anthony's main characters are all exactly the same in each and every novel he now writes, and their blandness and lack of any common sense in real world situations is, at best, grotesque.

Rescued once again by Harry Harrison, who can be one very funny writer, I read his follow-up novel to one of his better non-serious books.  Bill The Galactic Hero: (see first book on this page) The Planet of Robot Slaves is one giant joke from start to finish.  As ridiculous as the story is, Harrison always has something worthwhile to say, and his ongoing digs at life in the military (as a private) are as pointed as they are hilarious.  This book spawned a series that Harrison planned out but that others actually wrote, which I will not be pursuing.

I read Prince of Scorpio by Kenneth Bulmer, the 5th book of his nearly endless Dray Prescott series.  The book completes a 5-novel series called The Delian Cycle.  At this time I have no plans to continue reading the series, so will stop here and try another of his endeavours.  Bulmer will likely be the next author I will be able to wrap up permanently on these pages, but I still have a few things of his to try.  The present series is a somewhat lackluster retelling of Burroughs, Haggard, and Howard.  I would much rather read books by those authors.

Virtually everything written by E C Tubb is been published on Kindle, and unpublished, unknown work continues to emerge.  This month I read another early, very short work called Dynasty of Doom a title that has nothing to do with the story.  Tubb has written several works that deal with a star ship trapped in a kind of non-space, and the events and landscapes described are always quite fascinating.  It's an action-packed pulp SF adventure, and though not one of his better works, is still fun to read.

Jack Williamson teamed up again with Frederik Pohl, this time for Land's End, a post-apocalyptic adventure that I quite enjoyed, despite a few weighty problems.  A comet is heading for Earth, but is broken up using atomic warheads.  However, the destruction comes anyway, in the form of millions of comet parts raining down mercilessly, and killing most of the surface life.  There are a few undamaged underwater cities, and the surface is trying to also make a small comeback.  The plot is spoiled by an alien presence that's been sleeping in the ocean for millions of years, and awakens during the mess, as well as a family of bad guys that are nothing but cartoons of themselves.  Still, there are many scenes that will remain with me a long time.

 A City In the Autumns Stars is Moorcock's second Von Beck novel in his short series.  It takes place beginning in 1794, following a more modern Von Beck this time, as he flees Paris for his life, disillusioned by The Terror, the direct sequel to the revolution itself. Moorcock creates some wonderful settings, often in taverns, and the secondary characters we meet are fleshed out and fascinating on their own.  Prince Miroslav, Lord Renyard (the scholar fox), and Red O'Doud are only a few of the fascinating people encountered in this magical and mystical journey.  Well worth reading, and possibly even rereading.

Galaxies by Barry Malzberg is a rather brilliant concept for a SF novel, as the author, instead of writing a SF novel, narrates it to us from his notes regarding the possible novel.  It concerns a lone woman commander of a space ship that is captured by a black hole, and what might or could happen to her as a result.  One of his best SF works, this one is a gem.

And sadly I come to my final Blish novel.  It was my second reading of Fallen Star, from 1957.  A polar expedition sets out to do some research at the North Pole, and I think I enjoyed it even more second time around.  It is one of the best novels, of any type, I have ever read.  Blish can write characters, action, adventure, and thoughtful plots, this one involving the breakup of a planet that became the asteroid belt, as well or better than almost anyone else.  A huge piece of the broken up planet was thought to have crashed at the pole, lying hidden for millions of years.  This really is a must read novel, which also shows off the author's wonderful and sophisticated sense of humour, despite the devastating finale.

And cover of the month goes to Harrison's Bill novel.  Congratulations to the artists.

       Cover of the month for November 2021, executed by Michael Kaluta and Steve Fastner. 

Turning to other books read, there were three, all excellent in their own way.  Kate Chopin's 23 short stories that make up her Bayou Folk, is from 1894.  These are tales from a small, isolated parish in central Louisiana, where the author lived for a time.  The stories are often brilliant in their piercing look into simple local lives and the complications that arise as they go about their business.  Some stories are tragic, a few are humourous, some are psychological portraits, and some are adventurous.  But they all are told with warmth and sympathy.  Known mostly for her shorter fiction, Chopin also wrote two novels.  I hope to be able to read all of her works, which I now possess on Kindle.  Most of the stories are worth rereading, too.

Next came a book I was given by Jenn G., a good friend who works at a bookstore, and who also gave me last month's Guy Gavriel Kay novel, one of the best things I have ever read.  This time it was the memoirs of Philip Glass, called Words Without Music.  And that's just what the book is; it is not written for musicians, but for anyone to read.  He has led a rather fascinating life, and though much of his music does not interest me that much, some of it does to an extraordinary degree.  We saw and heard him perform with his ensemble in Detroit many years ago (A Thousand Airplanes On The Roof, and other works), and of course we more or less worship his scored film Koyaanisqatsi, among other works.  We are planning a Solstice Day and New Year's Eve tribute to Glass and his music.  The book is endlessly fascinating, and I will be checking out several more of his music creations as a result.  I also gleaned some pretty good performing ideas from him, ones I've never heard before from any teacher.

Lastly came a book I've wanted to read since I was immersed in the Ballantine Adult Fantasy series, several years ago now.  Lin Carter frequently mentioned a book of stories by Robert Chambers called The King In Yellow, which was published in 1895 (a year later than Bayou Folk), a book that used to be impossible to find. Those stories pretty much got H P Lovecraft going on his way, though he does not write nearly as well as Chambers.  The Chambers book contains ten short stories and novelettes, four of which concern The King In Yellow, which is a fictional play that, if read, drives a person mad.  The book has been outlawed and banned, but underground copies abound.  In addition to the four loosely related stories concerning this play, there are two others of supernatural interest, also very good, and four more or less regular short stories.  Chambers was an artist before he turned to writing, and the remaining four stories tell tales of artists living in Paris.  One story is a harrowing vision of life in Paris during the Franco-Prussian War, during the bombardment of Paris in 1870-71.  There are some unforgettable moments in that story.  The last tale is unexpectedly very funny, about a young American artist who manages to capture the attention of a beautiful young Parisian woman that wouldn't even glance at any of the other male art students.  He gets his big chance, and completely ruins it, to his eternal shame.  I'm sure many guys can relate well to this story.  Again I now have his complete works on Kindle.

Mapman Mike

 

Elia Kazan

 Kazan directed some 20 movies, many of them some of the biggest Hollywood features ever made.  In Pinky, which we watched recently, he was the first to tackle racism against Blacks in a film.  Before that had come Gentleman's Agreement, which we just saw.  It took on anti-Semitism, in an amazing picture starring Gregory Peck as a successful writer who pretends he is Jewish, to find out what it was like to face prejudice every day.  The acting is always good in a Kazan film, and the dialogue usually flows very naturally.  The director began as a method actor, and he seems to know how to get the most from his talented stars.  Of course the Criterion print is pristine.  Celeste Holm and Dean Stockwell also turn in great performances.

Now showing on Criterion. 

 Panic In The Streets, by Kazan and starring Richard Widmark, is the tale of murder and bubonic plague, an interesting combination for a noir adventure film.  Jack Palance is a feared hoodlum, and when two of his underlings catch the plague, the authorities try to round up the group before it spreads across New York and beyond. It's difficult to imagine Richard Widmark as a public servant doctor, but he is actually okay in the role.  I've read a few similar plots of plague spreading in NYC in my more recent SF readings, one of the better ones being Harry Harrison's futuristic The Jupiter Plague.

Now showing on Criterion. 

Coming up later tonight is Kazan's 1976 feature The Last Tycoon.

I went with Deb to Kingsville yesterday with Deb, though I did not visit Lois.  There is a small outbreak of Covid in one of the pod sections at the LTC facility, the first one ever to hit there.  I dropped off Deb and went down to the waterfront to read.  A snowstorm was approaching, our first little wake-up call of the season.  The storm began on our drive home, around 1 pm, and by 3 pm it was coming down hard.  We ended up with 3" of heavy, wet snow,and though about half of it melted during the day today, a bit more arrives tomorrow.  Anyway, the snowplows and salt trucks had a good practice run, and by the dozens of car accidents that occurred yesterday, it sounds like many drivers got to practice, too.  It would seem that more driving practice might be needed.

Lake Erie gets a short burst of sun.  Photo taken on Deb's phone from Lakeside Park, about an hour before the snow began.

Our creek separates our two back yards.  Note the few remaining yellow leaves, and the snowbank reflection in the water.

This is the location of all our spring, summer, and fall coffee roastings.  In the winter we use the fireplace indoors.  The orange extension cord leads to a heated water basin for the birds and squirrels over the winter. 

Lastly, from the DIA I came across this beautiful and sensitive image by Angelica Kauffman.  It is a striking piece of art, done with a sensitivity that few, if any, male artists could likely achieve. And yet the detail at least reminds me of some of Picasso's pink period works.  The pose is natural, and the lack of lewdness and coy nudity is both refreshing and ideal.  It also reminds me of a few works in Detroit by the American painter Thomas Dewing.  And of course the print harkens back to the ideals set out by ancient Greek sculptors.

 

 Sitting Half Naked Maiden, 1780.  Angelica Kauffman, Swiss (1741-1807.  Etching and aquatint printed on brown ink on laid paper, 9 3/4" x 10 5/8".  Collection Detroit Institute of Arts.

 

Detail of above. 

 

Deb goes for her 3rd Moderna vaccine shot on Tuesday morning.  No word on when I may be eligible, but Canada has 6 million doses of unused vaccine that will expire at the end of the year.  Seriously? 

My next blog will likely be the November reading summary, unless something momentous happens before then.  Hopefully not.

Mapman Mike

 

 

 

50 year Keyboard Anniversary

It was November 1971 that I first sat down at the piano to find out how to play it.  We never had a piano at home, but my mom's sister, Aunt Pauline and Uncle Jim, had an upright.  My three female cousins had taken lessons, and Melanie, then 13, was still studying.  She became my first teacher, helping me through several beginner courses over the winter.  And after 50 years, I can honestly say that I am finally starting to get the gist of it, though still learning every day.  For normal learners like myself, there is no such thing as mastering the piano.  It's always a challenge, every single day.  And fun.  So I'm raising a toast to 50 years of learning the classics, and thanking all of my teachers, past and present: Melanie, who was very encouraging when I began; to Stephen Sword, my high school English teacher, who became my first formal piano teacher and brought me to my Gr. 5 piano exam; to the late John Hannah, my teacher at Cambrian College in Sudbury, who brought me up to ARCT (professional) level; to Greg Butler, whom I studied with at the U. of Windsor; to the late Toma Schwartz, whom I studied with at Wayne State University in Detroit; and to Philip Adamson, my keyboard history teacher from U of Windsor, with whom I currently study whenever time allows.  It takes a small village of teachers to raise a pianist!

 And the 50 year anniversary celebration continues, with a little Beethoven (Op 34).  

In weather news, it's astronomy season once again.  Of course it's raining.  The leaves are all down on the ground now, after a few good windy days.  December is just around the corner, too.  compare the next photo to the same location only two days earlier.  Though there were still some leaves up when I took this, a lot more had fallen.  Now, as mentioned, they are all down.

Taken just a few days after the one on my previous post.  Though we've had no snow yet that remains on the ground, it can't be far off.  Read about here, soon.

The finest film we have seen in a long while was Deb's leaving Criterion Channel's Nov. 30th choice.  Directed by Aki Kaurismaki, it is called The Man Without A Past, and is from 2002.  A man just arriving in Stockholm is beaten badly by three thugs, and he loses his memory of who he is.  Despite a few minutes of nauseating violence near the beginning, the rest of the film is pure magic, as the man lives on the outskirts of society, making friends, and living in a shipping container.  The Salvation Army, Finnish Branch, comes out looking pretty decent in this film.  Filled with humour and human warmth and compassion, it is a must-see film.  Somehow we had missed this one back in the day.

Leaving Criterion Nov. 30th.

Zatoichi's Conspiracy, from 1973, is the last (25th) Zatoichi film in the series.  It plays pretty much like they all do; he arrives in a village (his home one this time) where the peasants are being oppressed by bad leaders, and he sets about making things right.  There is no violence for a long time, and it begins slowly, but then it comes in a gush of blood, as expected.  With the Zatoichi films now complete, I will be turning to the series starring the actor's brother, Lone Wolf and Cub, starting next month.

My going away film choice for the week was Eye of the Devil, a mostly decent British horror film starring Deborah Kerr and David Niven, along with Sharon Tate and David Hemmings, from 1966.  The plot is quite similar to The Wicker Man, where a sacrifice must be made so the grape harvest will return to success.  Kerr does everything in her power to save her husband's (Niven) life.  We are currently viewing Deb's main choice, La Cage Aux Folles.  It is her film festival this upcoming weekend, so more news will be forthcoming.

On Criterion till Nov. 30th.  Our version was called Eye of the Devil. 

 

Mapman Mike

 

A Lunar Eclipse, and A Sunny Day

Things happened in that order.  First came the eclipse, which was cloudy.  Then came the sunny day, right afterwards. Typical.  Deb got up at 5 am Thursday, but it was cloudy.  I woke up at 5:50, and it had cleared.  The moon was already gibbous, being 3/4 of the way back to normal.  So I glimpsed the every end of it from the upstairs bedroom picture window.  I went back to bed and fell back asleep.

Wednesday night we celebrated the Full Moon with a fireplace fire, a moon cake, and an opera we heard throughout the day.  This time it was Mathis der Maler, by Hindemith, telling some of the story of Mathias Grunewald, the painter from the early 1500s.  Fantastic opera about a painter we still know little about, who only has about ten paintings extant.  But what paintings!  So it was a fun day, and I skipped out on piano practice.

Friday was a lovely day, and I went outside and took some photos, all within our yard.  I took three with instant cameras, and five with my small digital one.  Here are two of the digital ones:

Looking into our back yard from the south side rock garden area.  It looks like a country lane.

Tree trunk reflections in our creek. 

In movie news, there are two of my choices to report, and one of Deb's.  My main choice was Fassbinder's The Marriage of Maria Braun, from 1978.  Set in a German city just after WWII, Maria's husband has not returned from the war.  She searches and waits for him, then finally gives up.  She takes a job at a bar as a girl who dances with customers, and meets a man whom she learns to like, and has an affair with him.  Her husband walks into the bedroom at a crucial moment.  Maria clobbers her new friend, killing him.  Her husband takes the rap for it, and she visits him in jail.  It is one of the director's more lucid and enjoyable films from a mainstream audience perspective.  He makes a cameo appearance, too, as a black market seller.  It is a pretty decent film.  Fassbinder shot the film during the day, and worked on the screenplay to Berlin Alexanderplatz, consuming large quantities of cocaine.  The film turned into a big success, critical and commercial.

Hanna Schygulla in a Marlene Dietrich moment. 

My going away choice was Funeral Parade of Roses, a Japanese film from 1969.  Within Criterion, it is grouped with other films under the heading "Japan Goes Wild."  This is a strange but watchable gay boy version of Oedipus Rex, as the camera follows the exploits of pretty boy Eddie (played by "Peter").  We get right inside the gay scene in Tokyo in the 1960s, with incredible photography and visuals.  The story is pretty basic but fun all the same, with Eddie proving to be a very charming young first time actor.  There is some graphic violence involving knives, but for the most part the film consists of some wonderful eye candy, very funny lines, and some strane avante garde cinema effects.  During the story, the director will suddenly stop and interview the actors and others about life as a gay boy.  Definitely one of the weirder 60s movies I have ever watched.  Worth catching if you are able.

Leaving Criterion this month. 

 

Deb's main choice for the weekend was Pinky, a 1949 film directed by Elia Kazan and starring Jeanne Crain as a black woman who appears to be white.  She has returned to her poverty-stricken grandmother after graduating nursing, and becomes involved with a very ill white woman who owns the mansion at the end of the laneway.  This is a film that exposes some hard truths about being black, whether it shows up in your skin tones or not.  The acting is amazingly good, including that of Ethel Barrymore as the old woman, and Ethel Waters as the grandmother who did washing to put her granddaughter through nursing school.  Interracial romance is also tackled here, as well as property being left in a will for blacks to inherit.  The film was a big hit in the good old southern US of A, surprising as that may sound.  No doubt it was supported by blacks, despite casting a white woman in the main role.

Now showing on Criterion.

 And now a quick look at modern transport, from a print by William Hogarth.  We seem to be back where we started, with overcrowded airports, people much too large for the seats assigned, and armed guards needed at the beginning, the end, and on board during the trip.  Not to mention the difference between first class and the rest of us.  One can only thank Hogarth for reminding us today that progress has been slight, indeed.  And we seem to be slipping back even further, into medieval times, with the lack of trust shown scientists who are trying to put an end to the pandemic.  Good luck from me, and from Hogarth, no doubt.

The Stage Coach, 1747, by William Hogarth, English (1697-1764). Engraving in ink on wove paper, 10" x 14".  Collection Detroit Institute of Arts.  

 

In conclusion (on the subject of travel and pandemic), we will be able to visit the US for short trips and return to Canada without having to get tested.  Fully vaccinated Canadians can cross beginning either Nov. 30th or Dec. 1st.  However, Michigan now leads the US in numbers of new cases, more than 7,000 a day now.  By comparison, Ontario had 700 cases per day as last week's average.  And with American Thanksgiving coming up, the greatest annual get-together over there, it means that Covid will likely get even worse by late November/early December.  So my travel plans are still on hold, until Michigan gets its numbers down, and until I get a booster shot.  Deb can't cross, either, because she won't be allowed into the facility where her mother is living for 14 days after being out of the country.  I'm guessing January before my first visit.

 

Mapman Mike

 

 

 

 

New Repertoire Progress

 The new piano pieces are coming along nicely.  Patience and more time will begin to round them out.  I am opening with 2 Little Preludes by Bach, in C Major and c minor, and following that with Beethoven's 6 Variations Op 34.  The Beethoven is a big piece, and I began work on it while still practicing the former pieces.  It is ten pages long and filled with great music, all divided into shorter pieces, or variations.  While most variations are written in the same key, Beethoven did something new with this set; he wrote each variation in a different key, dropping the interval of a 3rd each time.  So besides giving each piece a different character through rhythm, tempos, dynamics, etc, the new key sets each one even further apart from its mates, even though they are related by motif and original theme.

After the Beethoven come three Romantic era pieces, a Song Without Words by Mendelssohn (the 2nd last one), a Nocturne by Chopin (#11, Op 37 #1), and a Schubert Impromtu (Op 90 #2).  The Schubert is also a big piece, and I also began working on it while maintaining the previous program.  I will end with a Concert Waltz, Bethena, by Scott Joplin.  While all the pieces currently sound like music, they are all still under tempo and sounding pretty rough in places.  We'll report back in about six weeks time and see how things are going by then.

And now for the latest in film watching news.  My going away choice last week was called The Crowd, from 1928.  A young man from the sticks heads to New York, hoping to hit the big time and make a name for himself, like his late father always said he would.  Well, he takes a job in a big office (and I mean a big office), and basically goes nowhere during the film.  At the beginning he meets a sweet girl, bragging to her what a big man he is going to become, and belittling other people with undignified jobs, such as a man in a clown suit walking the sidewalk with a sandwich board sign.  He marries the girl, they have two children, and the ups and downs of their marriage and near poverty-stricken existence is followed closely.  Her two brothers and mother totally disapprove of her choice for a husband, and as the movie progresses, we tend to agree with them.  The movie is hard hitting and doesn't back down, though the ending tries to be pessimistic.  Some of the camera work in this silent feature is top knotch!

A silent film showing on Criterion until Nov. 30th.

The lifetime office job, from The Crowd. 

Deb chose a noir called Nightmare Alley, an engaging and well-acted piece about a man who gets a job at a carnival helping a woman with her mind reading tricks.  He eventually becomes a major part of the act, and perfects it with a new partner, his wife, and they make the upper class night club circuit, and are soon swindling people of their money, with the help of a female psychologist.  In the end his wife can't take the strain of pretending she is someone's dead relative, and their game is soon up.  But what about the money they swindled?  Well, it turns out the psychologist knows her stuff, and out swindles him.  In this downbeat movie, he ends up an alcoholic back in the carnival, looked after by his wife.  At least he had a chance at reaching the top.  Tyrone Power, Joan Blondell, Mike Mazurki, and Colleen Gray are all excellent in their roles.

Now showing on Criterion.  

Deb's leaving choice was the 1952 colour spectacular version of Prisoner of Zenda.  Though obviously high budget, and filled with top actors, the movie is rather lackluster in its treatment of one of the great stories of switched identities.  Sets and costumes are really well done, along with lighting.  Great to look at, though adventure lovers will likely be disappointed.

Our red bush, taken Monday. 

And finally, another autumn picture, this time a more recent one of our backyard bush, looking rather wreath-like.  Next time, it's back to the art museum for more landscape art.

Mapman Mike