It's taken a week, but things are finally beginning to settle down again. Piano practice has resumed, as has a scaled down exercise regime. I've been working on the notebook log of the recent journey, as well as the web version. The first blogger page is now up and running. It can be seen by clicking on the link in the left margin, the one titled Travels West. In addition, I had two nights of astronomy, with another one coming up tonight and possibly tomorrow night. Sometimes there aren't enough days in the week, or hours in the day. And last night was our annual Samhain party, with free Tarot cards chosen to help guide us through the upcoming year. We choose one card that will be our yearly guide, and 8 others for the quarters and have quarters of the Celtic year.
In TV watching news, I will begin with the most recent and work backwards, with three to report. Deb chose a nine part series called Self Portrait as a Coffee Pot: A Natural History of the Studio. So far, after three episodes, it seems a totally brilliant concept of exploring what goes on in an artist's studio. The artist and director is William Kentridge, and it seems to have been a Covid project. Working in South Africa, the series discusses Johannesburg, art, memory, feeling, awareness, and many other artistic and philosophical topics. The first episode was pretty good, the second even better. But the third episode, especially the last half, was totally brilliant. Each part lasts about 35 minutes, so three episodes at a time is how will take this curious but fascinating medicine.
Before that we watched The Lady From Shanghai, a 1947 noir directed by Orson Welles, staring him and Rita Hayworth. We had not seen this one in years, and we were quite disappointed. It really isn't a very good film, though Hayworth is quite good in her femme fatale role as a bleached blonde. The basic story, where an innocent man is tricked into taking the blame for a murder, is not very believable, and this tends to make Welle's character look quite stupid. Of course the final mirror scene is fun, but it's brief and not really sitting through the entire picture to see. I doubt I'll be tempted to see this film again.
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Earlier we watched a b & w medieval film epic from 1967 Czechoslovakia. Marketa Lasarova is in several chapters, and takes place mostly over a winter and an early spring. If you are one of those people who think that it would have been truly wonderful to live in back then, then this movie is not for you. It's brutality isn't only caused by human action. Living through a northern hemisphere winter is hard enough for some of us today; never mind the 1400s. Then there is that muddy and wet spring. Filmed in widescreen, it is a visual spectacle all the way. The story mostly takes place in two small outlying walled hamlets. They are rivals, with one of them being slightly more loyal to the distant king, and the other wanting nothing to do with a central command. Marketa is the daughter of one of the leaders, and wishes to join a religious order. Her father has pledged her to a nunnery, but does not have enough yet for her dowry. Returning home she is kidnapped by the rival clan and her fortunes suddenly take a different turn. A wandering holy man fights against a strongly pagan environment; experimental photography and images keep the pace interesting, if sometimes perplexing. Since its restoration the film has been gaining adherents, after being mostly unseen until recent times. Highly recommended, if you can find it showing anywhere else except Criterion.
Mapman Mike
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