Oscar Wilde.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
The “Vampirish” Black Swan of Darren Aronofsky
There is so much media buzz about Black Swan the film of Director Darren Aronofsky that movies goers want to see the film for themselves. According to the many film critics who reviewed Black Swan, the film is either brilliant or utterly manipulative and shameless. My curiosity got the best of me. I reluctantly went to see the film, à reculons as the French say, walking backwards. I was not sure that I will like it in spite of the positive comments made by a lady friend.
The beginning of the film was not auspicious. All the main characters, Nina (Natalie Portman) the fragile and infantile ballet dancer, her mother, and the maître de ballet were all mean characters, as well as caricatures of their trade. Erica, the mother embodied the Mommy Dearest stereotype, without the flourish of Joan Crawford, the all-time queen of mean. I also found Lily, Nina’s nemesis totally miscast. I am not a ballet expert but this girl has neither the body nor the posture of a ballerina. She exhibited a big eagle tattoo on her back. Was I watching the Guardian Angels’ version of Swan Lake?
Oronofsky’s Black SwanNatalie Portman’s dancing looked fine, but she is no first ballerina material. In order to compensate for her lack of ballet skills, her training focused on her arms and upper body. The leg and foot work which was seen on the screen was that of a true ballet dancer. Although I admire Portman’s talent as an actress, I could not take her ballet part seriously.
I understand why the film struck such a raw nerve in the ballet community. At one stage I felt like leaving, but as I was seating in the middle of a row I was “prisoner”. I tried to concentrate on the plot, part thriller and part horror. Nina is both destroying and reinventing herself in her search for emancipation and perfection. I often closed my eyes to enjoy the haunting music of Tchaikovsky which was mixed with electronic elements to a very dramatic effect. Sorry to admit but I giggled at the last scene when blood gushed out of the white swans’ stomach. Vampirish.
The bottom line is that I was certainly brainwashed by the negative reviews. After seeing the film, I read a couple of positive reviews which I didn’t find very convincing. I found the film entertaining but goofy and far-fetched. It is loaded with standard clichés of melodrama. Nathalie Portman’s performance is mesmerizing, bona fide Oscar material. The masturbation scene and the lesbian sex episode were risqué elements in an otherwise campy Hollywood fare. I look forwards to your comments (any languages) and argument. Select the “Anonymous” profile to do so.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
IT obsessed,
To my mentors, Caryl, Peter and Luis Alfredo,
Writing is a hobby which I kept on the back burner when I was employed. Then I wrote reports, chapters in books, keynote addresses, etc.… As soon as I retired from the United Nations I started scribbling stories, irreverent anecdotes and travelogues. Brazil and the south of France titillated my inspiration. Peter invited me to post my articles on his website http://www.the-languedoc-page.com/. He gave me web exposure. I never worried whether my articles generated hit traffic! Peter never cared either, he would upload them no question asked. I was one of his literary guests.
English is not my mother tongue but I relish the additional challenge and rewards of writing in this acquired language. French, my native language is not a language for beginners. It has strict rules and complex codes and doesn’t come to me easily any more. Moreover, I can’t compete with my articulate French friends who eloquently write about their activities and tend to dismiss everything outside their self-defined norms. One of my friends has even released a real book sold on Amazon.com. To write in English is a safer way for me. It is the lingua franca of my globalized playground. Last but not least most of my French speaking friends read English, mine in particular.
My New York friend Caryl played a central role in facilitating my literary pursuits. During all these years, she has been my patient and considerate editor. A brilliant “track change” wizard, she helped me polish my rough sentences to ensure that they made sense to English-speaking readers. Caryl may lament that in spite of her steady editing, I still haven’t fully mastered the art of English punctuation.
Finally, my buddy Luis Alfredo, who shared with me an earlier addiction to minerals stimulated my interest in one-way blogging. He recently launched a blog celebrating luminaries like Keats and Proust. Ex-geologist and present day “bon vivant”, Luis Alfredo gave me my boarding card to the blogosphere.
Three wonderful friends to whom I owe a mega byte debt of gratitude.
IT: Information Technology.
Writing is a hobby which I kept on the back burner when I was employed. Then I wrote reports, chapters in books, keynote addresses, etc.… As soon as I retired from the United Nations I started scribbling stories, irreverent anecdotes and travelogues. Brazil and the south of France titillated my inspiration. Peter invited me to post my articles on his website http://www.the-languedoc-page.com/. He gave me web exposure. I never worried whether my articles generated hit traffic! Peter never cared either, he would upload them no question asked. I was one of his literary guests.
English is not my mother tongue but I relish the additional challenge and rewards of writing in this acquired language. French, my native language is not a language for beginners. It has strict rules and complex codes and doesn’t come to me easily any more. Moreover, I can’t compete with my articulate French friends who eloquently write about their activities and tend to dismiss everything outside their self-defined norms. One of my friends has even released a real book sold on Amazon.com. To write in English is a safer way for me. It is the lingua franca of my globalized playground. Last but not least most of my French speaking friends read English, mine in particular.
My New York friend Caryl played a central role in facilitating my literary pursuits. During all these years, she has been my patient and considerate editor. A brilliant “track change” wizard, she helped me polish my rough sentences to ensure that they made sense to English-speaking readers. Caryl may lament that in spite of her steady editing, I still haven’t fully mastered the art of English punctuation.
Finally, my buddy Luis Alfredo, who shared with me an earlier addiction to minerals stimulated my interest in one-way blogging. He recently launched a blog celebrating luminaries like Keats and Proust. Ex-geologist and present day “bon vivant”, Luis Alfredo gave me my boarding card to the blogosphere.
Three wonderful friends to whom I owe a mega byte debt of gratitude.
IT: Information Technology.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Winter Fashion In Rio de Janeiro: The City of Fur Trimmed bikinis.
Under the tropics the arrival of winter is usually a nonevent. The State of Rio de Janeiro, which straddles the Tropic of Capricorn, is the exception to the rule. In the state capital São Sebastião do Rio de Janeiro, Rio for short, the climate doesn’t make winter, fashion does. Women’s fashion, that is. With the strong encouragement of the local fashion industry, the Carioca (inhabitants of Rio) women have created winter for the sake of changing their wardrobe.
All year round, Rio enjoys temperatures ranging from 20° to 30° Celsius. Based on my personal experience, we tend to sweat twelve months a year! According to the Lonely Planet guide of Brazil, the Carioca winter occurs between June and August. Temperatures stay in the mid-20s, and very rarely drop to single digit at night. However, for Northern Hemisphere visitors who are used to harsh temperature swings, winter in Rio comes and goes hardly noticed. I have recently been spending Southern Hemisphere summers in Rio. I then pack off for Europe as soon as Rio women start wearing darker colours. In the 1970s, when I lived and worked in Rio, I remember wearing the same summer clothes all year round. I added a little cardigan in the evening and a light raincoat when it rained. Nowadays, dressing habits have changed dramatically.
Rio women take their winter, albeit one of an inoffensive variety, very seriously. By mid-March, Carioca shop windows start displaying winter fashion. The bright and vivid hues of summer give way to all shades of brown, olive green, bronze, purple and black. Foliage brown seems to be the “in” colour of this season’s winter glamour. On the Paris or New York winter catwalks, these colours are just as fundamental as woolen coats, tartan skirts, furry hats and suede boots. Yet, in Rio, the cuts and styles which were popular in summer seem to have been recycled. An untrained eye can easily dismiss winter fashion as summer fashion in darker colours.
Leave it to the local fashonistas to spot the fundament differences in a teeny-tiny dress, for instance. In addition to clothes, shoes and accessories are offered in matching dark colours. Fashion is becoming big business in Brazil. If Rio is the indisputable leader of summer style, it still cannot compete with colder São Paulo, the trendsetter of winter fashion. Carioca fashion victims will fall over themselves to outdo their Paulista sisters. There is no limit to their creativity, except excess.
Only in Rio can one buy a winter bikini! The winter number is not a more modestly cut swimwear. It is the standard Ipanema beach bikini, but cut in a darker print. Excess in bikini fashion rarely equates with more fabric! I spotted a fur-trimmed string bikini in the window of one of Rio’s leading bikini shops. As boots are the must-have winter item for fashonistas, soon Cariocas will strut their stuff in Ipanema in fur-trimmed bikinis and matching fur-lined boots!
For me, brainwashed by European prejudice, I find winter fashion without winter weather rather incongruous. I scoff at the idea that women can enslave themselves to designers’ whims, and follow their fashion diktat. As there is no obvious link between climate and clothes, the main purpose of wearing winter clothes in Rio is to make a fashion statement, and possibly answer an emotional craving. I strongly believe that the Carioca designers have something up their sleeves-literally.
A recent issue of the US Vogue magazine ran a visionary article on the probable impact of global warming on fashion. The author was lamenting the likely disappearance of “seasons as we know them.” By creating the illusion of season change, haven’t the Rio designers anticipated the impact of climate change? The fashion victims of today may become the fashion gurus of tomorrow.
Beatrice Labonne, Rio de Janeiro. 10 April, 2006.
All year round, Rio enjoys temperatures ranging from 20° to 30° Celsius. Based on my personal experience, we tend to sweat twelve months a year! According to the Lonely Planet guide of Brazil, the Carioca winter occurs between June and August. Temperatures stay in the mid-20s, and very rarely drop to single digit at night. However, for Northern Hemisphere visitors who are used to harsh temperature swings, winter in Rio comes and goes hardly noticed. I have recently been spending Southern Hemisphere summers in Rio. I then pack off for Europe as soon as Rio women start wearing darker colours. In the 1970s, when I lived and worked in Rio, I remember wearing the same summer clothes all year round. I added a little cardigan in the evening and a light raincoat when it rained. Nowadays, dressing habits have changed dramatically.
Rio women take their winter, albeit one of an inoffensive variety, very seriously. By mid-March, Carioca shop windows start displaying winter fashion. The bright and vivid hues of summer give way to all shades of brown, olive green, bronze, purple and black. Foliage brown seems to be the “in” colour of this season’s winter glamour. On the Paris or New York winter catwalks, these colours are just as fundamental as woolen coats, tartan skirts, furry hats and suede boots. Yet, in Rio, the cuts and styles which were popular in summer seem to have been recycled. An untrained eye can easily dismiss winter fashion as summer fashion in darker colours.
Leave it to the local fashonistas to spot the fundament differences in a teeny-tiny dress, for instance. In addition to clothes, shoes and accessories are offered in matching dark colours. Fashion is becoming big business in Brazil. If Rio is the indisputable leader of summer style, it still cannot compete with colder São Paulo, the trendsetter of winter fashion. Carioca fashion victims will fall over themselves to outdo their Paulista sisters. There is no limit to their creativity, except excess.
Only in Rio can one buy a winter bikini! The winter number is not a more modestly cut swimwear. It is the standard Ipanema beach bikini, but cut in a darker print. Excess in bikini fashion rarely equates with more fabric! I spotted a fur-trimmed string bikini in the window of one of Rio’s leading bikini shops. As boots are the must-have winter item for fashonistas, soon Cariocas will strut their stuff in Ipanema in fur-trimmed bikinis and matching fur-lined boots!
For me, brainwashed by European prejudice, I find winter fashion without winter weather rather incongruous. I scoff at the idea that women can enslave themselves to designers’ whims, and follow their fashion diktat. As there is no obvious link between climate and clothes, the main purpose of wearing winter clothes in Rio is to make a fashion statement, and possibly answer an emotional craving. I strongly believe that the Carioca designers have something up their sleeves-literally.
A recent issue of the US Vogue magazine ran a visionary article on the probable impact of global warming on fashion. The author was lamenting the likely disappearance of “seasons as we know them.” By creating the illusion of season change, haven’t the Rio designers anticipated the impact of climate change? The fashion victims of today may become the fashion gurus of tomorrow.
Beatrice Labonne, Rio de Janeiro. 10 April, 2006.
Revised: 1 February, 2011.
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