1. Dance is beautiful: Part I.
One of the things I like about my siblings and their spouses is that they love to dance. Cliff and Scranton are a mean pair of breakdancers. Christine throws down with the intensely kinetic African dances. Stephanie and Phaedra work a floor like nobody's business, especially when it comes to hip hop. (My parents have taken Irish dance lessons and are fun to watch too when they dance their jigs and reels.)
I'm fair on the floor. But when I get to heaven I want to devote several years to learning what these guys do. It's just breathtakingly astonishing. I have to wonder whether the angels invisibly look on from the side, taking notes, with an eye to future imitation.
(Thanks to Scranton for the video.)
2. Dance is beautiful: Part II.
What can I say. Gorgeously filmed, gorgeously rendered, fantastically interpreted. Very inspiring. (Thanks to Tim Stewart for noticing it first.)
3. Russians are funny.
I posted this on FB a couple of weeks ago on. It's quirky and ingenious.
4. DaVinci Installation.
From the Wall Street Journal:
"Presenting “Leonardo’s Last Supper: A Vision by Peter Greenaway,” an amalgamation of 8,000 years of art and 112 years of cinema, or so the artist said on the Upper East Side Wednesday morning. The installation uses 33 screens and over 2,000 lights, offering the audience an audio visual tour and cinematic lightshow highlighting two classic paintings -– Leonardo’s “The Last Supper” and Paolo Veronese’s “The Wedding at Cana.”"
5. A rebuke of Sofia Coppola.
all the parts of the author's argument to feel that he is on to something. There are, for the sake of the argument I'm about to make, two kinds of great movies: those that are genuinely profound in their ability to unpack the strange, mysterious nature of human behavior (I put "Babel" into that category) and those that are profound the first time around, but by the second and third become cliches and a sad commentary on the insular world of the writer(s).
Kayne West), Sofia's stories are a kind of peek into the author's therapy. Art has long been a way for people to make sense of their lives. From Sophocles' dramas to the tales of the Brontë sisters, art is a gift that God has given us to understand obliquely the many non-straightforward parts of our lives. For us as viewers/readers/hearers, the experience of such art can become an occasion for genuine self-knowledge, perhaps even transformation.
Where I quickly grow bored is when I'm watching the artist sit with their therapist, so to speak, refuse to grow up, refuse to grow into new things, and in their artworks recycle their issues over and over and over.
(Thanks to my filmmaker friend Mike Akel for passing the article along.)