superfacilmente

In a previous post, I commented on the use of ekphrasis in the Bob Dylan bio-pic “I’m Not There.” I tried my own example of this long before I even knew what ekphrasis means. See it below:

All Along the Watchtower

“There must be some kind of way out of here,” said the joker to the thief. The joker’s bushy brown hair was very greasy, but still seemed full-bodied despite it. He sat at a table in the tavern, in clothes that weren’t filled with the bright colors and life of a joker, but rather the plain and shabby clothes of a traveler, a nomad trying to find the answers to life, or at least trying to get money. His skin was already starting to wrinkle and his small eyes were eerily bright next to his pale skin. As usual, stubble was starting to grow on his face. A man like him could not shave often.

“There’s too much confusion. I can’t get no relief,” the joker added, raising his mug to his face. He then stared around the room. It seemed foggy with cigar smoke, almost unreal as if they were dining outside and the smoke was fog.

“Businessmen they drink my wine. Plowmen dig my earth. None will level all of mine. None know what it is worth.” It had been earlier that day when he had lost his job. He had been dismissed from his latest court. The prince had not been impressed with his work. He had seemed panicked, and had called the joker into his presence. The songs of the joker had then suddenly angered him. When, he had done one of the prince’s favorite songs, “John Brown”, a story of a man who went to war, the prince had started screaming at him. He said that the music was horrible. He seemed so apprehensive, and had exploded with insults of the joker and his music, as if the songs that the Joker knew the prince loved, had caused him to now see a ghost and make his apprehension peak. He had then told the joker to leave. He could never see the prince again. It was a pity. The joker had liked getting such attention for his songs before that fretful day in the prince’s court.

“No reason to get excited,” the thief he kindly spoke “there are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke.” The thief’s voice was gruff and low. His dark skin almost seemed to shine in the smoke-filled bar. He had hair similar to the joker’s but it was darker and a small moustache adorned his face. He had been through much with his friend. He knew the troubles of life, and took advantage of them. He was able to do the immoral and take from anyone, and use it to his advantage. He was the best and most unique of thiefs. He was now clothed in the riches of the nobles from which he had stolen.

“But you and I we’ve been through that and this is not our fate,” the thief added. He and his friend had traveled the world. He only wanted to remind his friend that they had seen much and that this was merely one problem that they could overcome. They could always overcome problems, as long as they were together. Even the poorest men, when they have friends, can overcome everything. “Now let us stop talking falsely now,” he laughed, “the hour’s getting late.”

They laughed together. The room seemed less foggy and clearer as they drank and joked. They stopped thinking about the past and got ready for the future. They would leave this town tomorrow. They had nothing left here. They would leave this place and start anew in a new town with a new prince and a new life.

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The guitars will blend together. They create a cacophony of sound that is beautiful, yet eerie. Listen closely to the words. They paint a story, a story that maybe had been told by many before it was recorded. Of course, there have been already two men to repeat this story that have been famous, first a joker and poet of America, and second his thief who changed the face of the song and of music. And there are millions of tales from the past, in the present, and future, that will continue to tell the tale of jokers and thieves, and of princes who must wait for an attack
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All along the watchtower, the prince has kept the view. All of the women came and went, barefoot servants too. He stood immobile, his light blonde-brown hair and lavish clothing covering his large stomach. He had a look of pain as servants left. Something was coming. The rumors from travelers, the courts, his advisors, they all pointed towards this, towards tragedy, towards legions and invasion. They were coming for him. He couldn’t handle it. He didn’t know what the world was going to bring to him. He had been selfish and now he waited alone for the attack. For the soldiers on He had been selfish and now he waited alone for the attack. For the soldiers on horseback, and his death. He had nobody to help him or comfort him in his time of need. In the past, he would have had the joker sing a song to him. However, even the joker’s songs seemed to laugh at his fear and tell him of danger causing him to explode that day and in anger he had dismissed his beloved jester. He stood, staring into the foggy black night, illuminated into an unreal oblique world by moonbeams, alone.

Outside in the cold distance, a wild cat did growl. Two riders were approaching, and the wind begins to howl.

Since moving to New York, my picture taking has increased quite a bit, and I can’t help but just popping pictures of things. I take pictures with phones, cameras, smaller cameras, video cameras, and it doesn’t matter if they are mine or not. I took this picture and emailed it to myself. I have no idea where it is from. Any faithful New York resident who stumbles upon this, please enlighten me?

Bless Stereogum for finding fine music like a band I never heard of “Zoot Woman.” I think the vido nicely puts the “move your ass” in “class?”

Part of the rethinking of this blog is to bring together some of the other blog writing I have done in the past, including work from one of my previous blogs Mediamasher. In this new section, I will try to add a little US entertainment, starting with the ever pervasive writer’s strike. Since I am on the side of the writers, the whole thing seems like it could be resolved so easily, but perhaps I am wrong. The tediousness of the situation has come up most poignantly at the Daily Show, now “A Daily Show” until the writers come back. I think the clip below will show the difficulties of the strike much better than I could.

Anyone walking into San Telmo from Avenida de 9 de Julio might have come across the graffiti of adult swim of all things. I know, when I first came to BsAs almost a year ago, it was one of those American flairs that really stood out to me in the city. Apparently, the work is done by a graffiti studio in Argentina and a bit of searching revealed this really interesting, if somewhat bizarre video.

I hope everyone gets a chance to see Mr. Birdman in BsAs

While I sit and wait to get back some important pictures (so I might continue writing what I can about Buenos Aires from miles and miles away) I like to spend quite a bit of my time at the movies. I spent a majority of the new year attending this film or that and one of the big budget films I chanced to see was Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story produced by the venerable Judd Apatow, who makes about two movies a year this point, but can be remembered for the 40 Year Old Virgin, Superbad, Taladega Nights and, perhaps less known for his fantastic tv shows Freaks and Geeks and Undeclared. Raunchy Mr. Apatow helped make a raunchy music mockumentary, which was enjoyable, though perhaps less so than his previous pieces. See the trailer below.

However, in a spectacle that seems only possible in New York, Mr. Cox found his way onto the big stage live at the Knitting Factory. Some of the clips are below.

and

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All I can ask is when Spinal Tap will grace a New York stage?

An integral part of New York is the film world there. It was often spoofed in shows like Seinfeld:

Sadly, that’s the best example I could find, but I assume just about everyone has seen those characters waiting on line for the movies.

So, upon my return to New York, I have started to once again take in the movies at a blistering pace, having seen Beowulf, Lars and the Real Girl, The Golden Compass, Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story, National Treasure: Book of Secrets, The Savages, No Country for Old Men, and finally I’m Not There..

The last of these, which I suppose I am lucky to see because New York provides so many different venues (and where I live in Lower Manhattan you can literally see different movies at different theaters), really stands as perhaps the most unique and experimental of that sizeable list of films.

I’m Not There really speaks for itself better than any one person would. The set of vignettes portray both fictionalized and real events in the life of Bob Dylan, accompanied by his music, which is performed by various bands and recordings by the singer himself. This fragmentation of his music and life is made even more complicated by the fact that first and foremost Dylan is never named, but given pseudonyms such as “Jude Quinn.” Furthermore, and perhaps most obvious, is that different people play Dylan throughout the movie.

I think that you can find plenty of reviews on the film. Many particularly point out the performance of Kate Blanchett as being particularly unique. Blanchett, in addition to being the only female form of Dylan, represents the time when Dylan went electric, a seminal change in the star. However, Blanchett’s Dylan is particularly narcissistic and “in your face.”

I think that the film itself is quite unique. Among other things, the vignettes intertwine, which makes the flow of the movie wonderfully disjointed. You don’t know which Dylan you are going to see when and though there is a rough chronology, it’s nicely interrupted by one Dylan or another.

However, for those looking for a Dylan biopic, I would not recommend this movie. It’s more like ekphrastic poetry. Dylan’s life and music inspire the characters and events of the story, which then can veer and interpret said music/events in their world by their own terms.

I wonder if Dylan as a general inspires these feelings over other musicians. I did my own ekphrastic interpretation of Dylan’s “All Along the Watchtower” in about 9th grade when I was feeling particularly precocious (fear not, it will find it’s way onto the site), and I can’t help but think that perhaps the reason Dylan was considered such a good poet was our ability to empathize with him, the nerdy kid trying to rethink himself and aspiring to the story he was creating for himself. I am not a huge fan of Dylan’s musical chops, but it seems that even there he managed to create a unique sotry for himself (going electric, etc.). It’s something to think about.

Also, how rare is it to see ekphrasis in the form of film. I mean, referencing films is one thing, but is usually less obvious than when we quote in word or song. Those who like the classical music probably are very common with this kind of work and most of us have at very least read Fan Fiction, perhaps the most ubiquitous form of ekphrasis today. However, I just don’t know of many ekphrastic films, and few that are so blatant.

However, it is nice to be back in New York and to see this favored form of experimentation

It HAS been a while since I have kept up with La Bomba de Tiempo.

They seem to have been doing some nice things in the warmer weather

In addition, they began and updated a Myspace Account, which I hope everyone will check out. Definitely a good group to go see on a Monday night. And Konex is a fantastically weird space.

If there is one thing I have noticed about the most recent trends of New York City graffiti is that if you want to find even a smidgen of it in Manhattan, from roughly 116th st. - 10thst, throughout the middle of the city, is impossible. However, just over, and on, the Williamsburg Bridge, I have started to find a lot. I will start a “Graffiti NYC” page to update, but here are a few new pictures from on and around the bridge:

Originally, when I started to realize that my time in BsAs had to come to an end, I wanted to try to exact a clever and somewhat fantastic deception, namely to never say that I was going. I, had, and unfortunately still have, a backlog of nearly 70 unpublished beginnings of posts about the fair city and my hope was to publish them before my return to the U.S., where I would at least be staying for a year. In an ideal world, I would slowly phase back some of merely BsAs production to tell stories from around South American World, not dissimilar to my other, rarely posted on, Media Masher blog and would be able to use the relationships I had developed as a means of producing fresh and interesting material at the same rate that I had in BsAs.

Sadly, of course, this did not come to be. Instead, I came to my new job, teaching 13 year olds, and have had it, until very recently, take up not just my regular 8-3:30 day but often hours before and after it. Sadly this has put writing of all kinds on hold, and would be something I would like to remedy.

A while ago, in Buenos Aires, I got into a fight with a friend over the nature of blogs like this and his. My friend argued that blogs should act as portals to the reader, a means of understanding a singular point of view about subjects, something that I wonder if the other bloggers in BsAs agree with. I at the time was thinking of putting all my ideas, and blogs, into one source, a website where those of interest could see not just a travel blog, but a blog on media, a blog on writing, and a blog of personal exposition.

However, priorities have changed. My camera has been replaced and I find myself once again in a new city, attempting to still go out and explore while not working. My writing as a general has stagnated and I need to keep it going. So, with deference to my friend, I have chosen to employ his theory in practice.

Hence “Superfacilmente” will now be at least somewhat changed. In addition to providing the 70 or so blog entries on Argentina that I had initially intended, and hopefully will keep those of you in Argentina connected and interested, I will be posting rather extensive entries of my adventures in New York City, which is, arguably, a city at least on par with that of BsAs. Expect new New York City graffiti sections and extensive writing on that subject, from rest ‘raunt reviews to museum reviews to just talking about our first day of snow (today!). In addition, I am going to incorporate my music/media interests, writing (fictional and not) and opinions into this. Do not worry. I will do my best to separate each of these into Categories/Sections on the blog, so nobody gets weight down with too many of these rants. However, please feel free to comment on this change, blogs, or life in Argentina, in the future.

Thanks for listening

-M