a mesa de luz

desejos

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Thu, 24 Dec 2009 11:23:00 +0000

de Bom Natal.

Gerhard Richter, Abstract Painting (2005)

os Intervalos do Real de Cristina Ataíde

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 23:31:00 +0000

vai ser injusto misturá-la com várias coisas, mas os dias são assim mesmo, não se faz uma coisa separada de outra. amanhã será o dia semi-mundial da cozinha e ponho-me a pensar se não deveria dar uma cozedura rápida às batatas logo pela manhã, bem cedo. regressando de Óbidos, onde a Vila Natal voou junto com alguns telhados inteiros, como o que vi pousado no meio de um campo de cultivo, e com milhentos sinais de trânsito e todos os toldos e plásticos de estufas. em Óbidos estavam os Intervalos do Real de Cristina Ataíde, na galeria Ogiva. na janela do primeiro andar, uma idosa contava como tinha ficado sem luz, sem televisão, sem nada. as bancas de ginjinha tinham tombado, de manhã ainda se limpava e reconstituía os cenários da compra natalícia enquanto umas centenas de crianças desiludidas aproveitavam o que há, mesmo sem pista de gelo. de noite imaginei a janela a ceder ao vento e por ela entrarem de rompão as árvores de natal da praça. uma colecção delas caídas. gostei do pigmento vermelho, tóxico.

quero levar este ano como água.

esfera entre ventos

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 20:44:00 +0000

Avatar

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 20:26:00 +0000

two words: amazingly fantastic.

quando vejo mil coisas antigas numa que é totalmente nova, só posso dizer isto. vi em Cinemax maravilha, mas ainda hei-de repetir em 3D [fã do 3D desde o primeiro minuto]. aconselhável para quase todas as idades com consciência e, pois sim, quanto maior o conhecimento de outras histórias e sons e imagens e mitos mais se pode ver neste para-além-do-mais lindíssimo filme.

chegar à zona Oeste

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 09:15:00 +0000

logo em noite de ventos ciclónicos na Lourinhã e em Torres Vedras.

actualização de direcção

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 23:04:00 +0000

o tempo frio e de vidro, de maneira que respiro melhor. ausência de insectos e de comedores de insectos. ausência de película branca sobre os objectos. por vezes o branco mas da névoa. (acabei com as flores, mas mantenho um pequeno morangueiro silvestre a que gosto de chamar selvagem). e ter bafo de dragão logo de manhã.

por detrás da estação de Sintra há um restaurante que eu não conhecia apesar de por ali vaguear há pelo menos quarenta anos, o D. Pipas. a fugir da chuva, com pouca convicção porque a não ser que jorre gosto de apanhar com ela na cara e ter o cabelo frio de gotículas, entrámos para o espaço na altura cheio de empregados de mangas (alpaca), um sítio onde se come todos os dias ou em dias mais festivos como hoje, o último de trabalho para muitos escriturários de primeira e de segunda, em que se aproveita para fugir ao croquete e à tigela de sopa em pé ao balcão. comida-surpresa com mousse de travo laranja. uma colecção de velhos aparelhos de rádio. alguns ferros de engomar dos de metal. um garrafão imenso de vidro verde. azulejos desenhos e aguarelas. uma boneca vermelha natalícia e uma abóbora. há sangria e a origem da carne. quem atende são homens e todos acima dos quarenta, senão dos cinquenta, a comprovar a estabilidade do estabelecimento.

rebentou-lhe uma veia na cabeça, tinha quarenta e dois anos. assim digo quarenta pela terceira vez. vai esta tarde para o cemitério de __. a chuvinha e o atrás da televisão. passou. na santa casa da misericórdia duas mulheres falavam com a assistente. o objectivo: alugar uma cama de doente e o serviço de alguém para tratar do sogro acamado. tem tantas doenças que nem sei o que tem. está a ficar com ferida, a mulher não lhe consegue dar banho sozinha mas o comer dá-lhe. a ver se precisa do colchão para escaras e são trinta euros por mês, a cama. não diz coisa com coisa, algaliado.

em Óbidos, seguindo aquela direcção, há o Troca-Tintos, um dos mais agradáveis wine bars que conheço. mais tarde, e seguindo orientações anteriores, hei-de separar os azeites (e não águas) em pequenos frascos mais dourados que água benta, colocar etiqueta de elevado nível e quem sabe juntar poejo.

marshmallow

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 15:48:00 +0000

a luz limão

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 00:31:00 +0000

de Christina Rossetti, mas só o apetite inicial, antes que se misturem temperos simbólicos ou de paradigma tão maior do que o espaço da banca deste mercado [Goblin Market]. se a tentação estava na fruta, ou no que se come. ainda a ver em outras histórias, em lugares estranhos. gosto dessas mulheres de cara longa e boca repuxada, como gosto da cara desta Christina.

("she was opposed to war, slavery (in the American South), cruelty to animals (in the prevalent practice of animal experimentation), the exploitation of girls in under-age prostitution and all forms of military aggression.", da wiki)

"Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpecked cherries,
Melons and raspberries,
Bloom-down-cheeked peaches,
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries,
Crab-apples, dewberries,
Pine-apples, blackberries,
Apricots, strawberries;--
All ripe together
In summer weather,--
Morns that pass by,
Fair eves that fly;
Come buy, come buy:
Our grapes fresh from the vine,
Pomegranates full and fine,
Dates and sharp bullaces,
Rare pears and greengages,
[4]Damsons and bilberries,
Taste them and try:
Currants and gooseberries,
Bright-fire-like barberries,
Figs to fill your mouth,
Citrons from the South,
Sweet to tongue and sound to eye;
Come buy, come buy."

(ele, o tempero: "However her most famous collection, Goblin Market and Other Poems, appeared in 1862, when she was 31. The collection garnered much critical praise and, according to Jan Marsh, "Elizabeth Barrett Browning's death" (in 1861) "led to Rossetti being hailed as her natural successor as 'female laureate'." The title poem from this book is one of Rossetti's best known works and, although at first glance it may seem merely to be a nursery rhyme about two sisters' misadventures with goblins, the poem is multi-layered, challenging, and complex. Critics have interpreted the piece in a variety of ways: seeing it as an allegory about temptation and salvation; a commentary on Victorian gender roles and female agency; and a work about erotic desire and social redemption — perhaps influenced by her work with the "fallen women" in Highgate. Some readers have noted its likeness to Coleridge's "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" given both poems' religious themes of temptation, sin and redemption by vicarious suffering.", também da wiki)

a meio da quadra

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 23:44:00 +0000

que é uma ocasião para enfileirar pensamentos enquanto se espera pelos 180º. nos últimos dias vendo passar desentendimentos, um ou dois meus que espero conter por aí adiante. e a julgar que nada se faz sem que uma coisa leve a outra e a outra, poucas vezes se tem a opção da escolha. foram bons os brinquedos da técnica, e algumas vistas inéditas que desembrulham outras, uma nova ligação terrena e o peso dela, ainda esta manhã. a perda de outra e de mais outra, imensas no que podia ser o mais terrível dos anos, mas o que digo, pensando melhor e ainda à espera dos 180º. uns doze meses magníficos.

"art description"

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 22:10:00 +0000

"Richard Estes, reflective windows; Malcolm Morley, tourists on cruise ships; Chuck Close, portraits; Duane Hanson, human figures; Gordon Snidow, cowboys; and Mel Ramos, flashy nudes." (daqui)

rehearsals for departure

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 09:49:00 +0000

de Tim Carpenter: gostei. (por aqui)

Jackson C. Frank

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 08:45:00 +0000

no myspace.

Gold and silver is the autumn
Soft and tender are her skies
Yes and no are the answers
Written in my true love's eyes

Autumn's leaving and winter's coming
I think that I'll be moving along
I've got to leave her and find another
I've got to sing my heart's true song

Round and round the burning circle
All the seasons: one, two, and three
Autumn comes and then the winter
Spring is born and wanders free

Gold and silver burn my autumns
All too soon they'd fade and die
And then, oh there are no others
Milk and honey were their lies

. . .
e não sentia isto desde o Hurt, do J. Cash. à propos de emoções. a imagem -que não seja em movimento- faz chorar? sei que li o terço final do Jude The Obscure a chorar em cachão, de uma vezada só. e a música pode fazer o mesmo, não é o texto, são as notas.

a entrar em fase de cozinha

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 09:26:00 +0000

e a recolher instruções: banana bread. apple pie. mousse. brownie thins. norwegian butter cookies. frosting talvez. no entretanto, óbidos vila natal. alcaide ou ramires. e desta vez esta não falha. e finalmente, capaz de fazer este perú. com estas. talvez estes (adding toasted pinenuts). e sobremesa logo se vê. vai ter de haver chocolate. nota: absolutely great converter.

. . .

banana bread

que é suposto ter este aspecto

o quê: 400g farinha, 2 colheres de chá de bicarbonato de sódio, meia colher de chá de canela, meia colher de chá de sal, 4 ovos à temperatura ambiente, 450g açúcar que acho demais, uma chávena de óleo ou 200g, 6 bananas maduras, um quarto de chávena de crème fraiche, 2 colheres de chá de baunilha, 100 gr de nozes.

como: tostar as nozes. untar e enfarinhar duas formas longas.

- - -

primeira fase: concluída com grande alívio em vinte e quatro horas.

assim nada,,

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 00:23:00 +0000

porque não me apetece type type

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 23:24:00 +0000

desde uma certa janela do Primo Basílio e de uma aula mais ou menos contemporânea no BI em que nos era dito que entrássemos na casa passando pelo portão. adoro descrições, tanto como andar na escuridão completa. voltei a encontrá-las aqui. primeiro os pálidos holandeses (new topographics), um curto intervalo pastilha elástica e, no interior, mais precisamente num restaurante francês recentemente convertido em chinês, o claro-escuro de Nighthawks, embora eu fosse ainda mais atrás no tempo.

e aqui. seguirá quote.

school

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 13:09:00 +0000

que ninguém é perfeito

cinco estrelas

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 10:45:00 +0000

(migalhas)

ainda assim

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 09:32:00 +0000

satisfeita de ter acordado (e como sobreviver este ano), tendo falhado o susto do tremor mais forte em quarenta anos. engraçado ter sabido pela Susana no facebook, mais perto do epicentro do que eu. o ano a terminar com um boom! subterrâneo.

lemon sunshine, ou Tracey Moffatt outra vez e em contexto de road movie

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 10:31:00 +0000

"Bird in Hand, Paradise: his eyes keep going back to this dainty lettering on the map. He has an impulse, amid the oilfilmed shimmer of this synthetic and desultory diner, to drive there. Little plump women, toy dogs in the street, candy houses in lemon sunshine". Rabbit, Run. J. Updike

o nevoeiro não é neve. cores preferidas na Unless You Will, cores dos países baixos

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 08:01:00 +0000

mas esteticamente anda bem perto #2
Daniel Freytag

através do #2 da revista Unless You Will e blog.

Tracey Moffatt, a cor

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 00:01:00 +0000

e muitas mais.

frases a colocar no próximo boletim de voto

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 16:16:00 +0000

daqui não saio, que maçada.

admito

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 14:11:00 +0000

quero este livro!

"For our part, it is the messiness of film, its resistance to singular theory, that makes it theoretically interesting. Moreover, by making ourselves aware of how the multilayered, contextual and processual nature of film resists anyone reductive thought, we might even see how film itself can genuinely think rather than merely illustrate thought. To demonstrate this view, we must firstly show that film is indeed a relational process, one that enfolds within its moments a multiplicity of properties that cannot be set into any preformed philosophical hierarchy (of artist over audience, of author's intention over material medium, of audience reception over genre convention, and so on). Understood through a theory of cinematic process, film encompasses aspects from every paradigm of film-philosophy rather than being reducible to any one (as its illustration). In place of philosophical illustration by film, then, there is the becoming philosophical of film itself, that which resists any singular, reductive theorization of its processual being: the élan cinématique. This is a double-sided argument, however. On the one side, film can make us think by refusing to allow us to enforce our thoughts (of what it is) on it. On the other side, this recalcitrance to our thought may well be its form of thought too, so that what we are made to think is not our thought alone, but something co-engendered between us and film. In addition, finally, this thoughtful resistance of film to (any one) philosophy may not only force us to rethink our ontology of film, but equally what we mean by philosophy as well."

um .pdf interessante para ler aqui. e uma review.
John Mullarkey, Refractions of Reality: Philosophy and the Moving Image.

e nem de propósito
Farber on Film
PETITE MANNYFESTO
by B. Kite, nos Auteurs

1. Manny Farber, his goal: "to get himself to disappear. To get the object in question to shimmer with its own unique sense of awe."

2. An improving exercise: Watch a favorite film on DVD at 1/8th its normal speed. Under these conditions, the microworlds contained within gesture, spaces, movements of camera and figures begin to open out, and the between takes on a weight equal to the achieved.

3. Because: The amazing thing about movies is that there's so much STUFF in them. Which makes the critical tendency to focus on a handful of aspects (mostly thematic) all the more distressing. And more distressing still the limited number of approaches taken even in regard to thematic material, which itself contains diversity and plenitude.

4. The point is, or ought to be, to create a bounded terrain for the object, to restore/reveal its strangeness, not to still its fluctuations with concepts and abstract, unexamined categories of judgment (see #7).

5. More selfishly, the object is for the writer the occasion to construct an idea formation with its own utility. There is a continual tension between these two goals, largely because the idea formation often wants to pull away from the object, thus misrepresenting it, in order to achieve its own, tidier shapes.

6. Here too Farber is a beacon, calling the writer back to peculiarity and particularity, and also laying a lattice for multiple approaches instead of single lines through (the danger of rhetoric assuming its own momentum, that of judgment, usually based on received ideas (see #7) (what is a "good performance"? what does "beautifully photographed" mean?), producing a steady stream of therefores).

7. Because: Of the plague of OPINION, the regrettable temptation to set oneself up as AUTHORITY.

Q: What is the role of evaluation in your critical work?

MF: It's practically worthless for a critic. The last thing I want to know is whether you like [the artwork] or not: the problems of writing are after that.

7a. Opinion-centered criticism places judgment at the apex. The materials of the film are sifted in relation to judgment, supporting evidence is bagged, everything else discarded. This procedure flattens the continual flux of response we experience when we watch a film, when we enter into its fields of tension and repose. And among the discarded are all the niggling sticky little moments of uncertain response, when something in the film refuses to fit our frames of reference. Such moments issue a quiet and often unacknowledged cry, somewhere in the basement of consciousness. They produce a minor discomfort. But they may in fact signal the most valuable and unique aspects of the work in question.

7b. Authority is a particular stance the writer assumes first toward his/her own experience, and it is an act of violence against that experience. The desire to act as authority results in a particular disease for many film critics, an urge to find their position of judgment (see #7a) as quickly as possible (what’s my angle? how many stars does it merit? where should I position my thumb?) Once this is done, everything in the film is seen in relation to that judgment. It’s understandable enough (not admirable, but understandable), especially in the case of writers on a tight deadline. What’s really seems strange, at first glance, is the number of regular filmgoers likewise diseased. But on reflection, that makes sense too—the authoritative, opinion-centered mode is in many cases their only model for thinking about film, so it’s natural enough that they would emulate its stance, enact its violence on themselves.

7c. Most film criticism impoverishes its readers, lending them a narrow set of potential responses based on a few stupid and unexamined tropes.

8. For writers and viewers interested less in judgment than exploration, it is sometimes productive to cut into the object "against the grain"—to liberate trapped gesture and incidental beauty and strangeness (see #3) from the stranglehold of narrative function. Sometimes, even the purest instances of narrative transmission (say an insert shot of a bathtub tap, an empty hand, a hat, a stain, a calling card) carry enormous plastic beauty simply in their clean lines. Such concentrated seeds of meaning can exfoliate in many directions. Farber had a collector's eye for incidental beauty and also those obtrusive elements which complicate the overhead, univocal, predator's position, which regards the object in question as a hunk of dead meat.

9. Such "against the (narrative) grain" procedures are not a betrayal of the object, and could only be considered so if one views the object exclusively in narrative terms (as a "story-delivery mechanism"). And then too only if one's notion of story is strictly delimited (or impoverished, see #7).

10. The superficial irony of the Farber quotes (see #1 and #7) lies in the fact that few personalities are as evident as Farber's own, even if the attempt to track that down to a basic, constant sensibility is frequently, thrillingly thwarted. This is, however, a natural outgrowth of his method—the self, or selves, shine(s) forth most cleanly when concentrated on an external target. The shifts of stance in the new collection can be disconcerting (eg, The Best Years of Our Lives, one of many shooting stars in the in the Mannyverse), but that’s one of the best things about it—the way Farber can inhabit a stance without ultimately tying himself to it (how depressingly rare that is).

11.

“In every work of genius we recognize our own rejected thoughts; they come back to us with a certain alienated majesty. Great works of art have no more affecting lesson for us than this. They teach us to abide by our spontaneous impression with good-humored inflexibility then most when the whole cry of voices is on the other side. Else to-morrow a stranger will say with masterly good sense precisely what we have thought and felt all the time, and we shall be forced to take with shame our own opinion from another.”

– Emerson, Self-Reliance

Farber had from the start the courage of his own impressions. Setting himself the paradoxical task of following the most elusive (and sometimes, it must be admitted, factually incorrect) sense memories with rigor led him to a place where extremes of objectivity and subjectivity become almost indistinguishable.

Looking for other precedents to the structures Farber and Patricia Patterson achieved in their mature pieces, one could do worse than turn to Emerson, whose Essays follow a fluid pattern of advance, retreat, and repositioning around a central topic continually redefined. (The notion of “continuation,” advanced in the Richard Thompson interview, deserves to be brought forward, now that elephant/termite has begun to calcify.)

And like Emerson, the message of Farber’s best pieces is to trust yourself, follow your own nascent impressions and impulses, regard perception not as a means to an end (the stance of authority) but as its own independent adventure.

12. On a very basic level, there's a kind of humility, or hard self-knowledge, implicit in the movie paintings of the 1980s, their implicit admission that however earnestly one approaches the object and tries to shape oneself to its terms, one can only do so with the materials one has at hand: treasures and junk collected over a lifetime along with whatever detritus the day washes up. Farber moves outward and inward in the same paradoxical motion, interrogating both the object and his own ability to perceive the object, probing the object through himself and vice versa. In this respect, his work bears comparison with both Proust and Michel Leiris.

13. Or, with reference to the following quotes—

“I can’t see any difference between writing about a porno movie and an Academy Award movie—both are difficult objects.” – Farber

“This was before the word processor, and we did so much cutting and pasting that when we were through we had produced these incredible objects—you should have seen what the final pieces looked like.” – Patterson

—one could say that Farber/Patterson met difficult objects with incredible palimpsests of ideas and impressions. The similarity to the description of Proust’s manuscripts (galleys overflowing with ribbons of pasted interpolation) isn’t coincidental but a byproduct of a parallel search to find some stable form for the interplay of the ephemeral.

14. Farber’s great virtue was impatience, not least with regard to himself, his ideas, those things he could do well. It led him finally to renounce himself, or at least his own singular authorial position, altogether and try to find positions outside even his own ample bounds. Patterson’s contribution is immense and perpetually undervalued. Farber was always good, but the very best and most shocking pieces are the product of that “third voice” that arose from the F/P conjunction.

15. To call Farber a master is to do violence to his dedicated avoidance of mastery and his commitment to nurturing difficulties. That’s the best legacy he left to contemporary film writers, and the one least likely to be claimed.

marcando

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 23:23:00 +0000

o início de Rabbit, Run. assim, de repente, parece-me totalmente fotográfico.

devia ter seguido The Lay of the Land, foi o tempo, passou, dois anos.
e devia ter precedido (a juzante, como me confundem com esta direcção) Babbitt de Sinclair Lewis.

"He turns down Kegerise Street, a narrow gravel alley curving past the blank back side of a small box factory where mostly middle-aged women work, the cement-block face of a wholesale beer outlet, and a truly old stone farmhouse, now boarded up, one of the oldest buildings in town, thick crude masonry of Indianskin sandstone. This farmhouse, which once commanded half of the acreage the town is now built on, still retains, behind a shattered and vandalized fence, its yard, a junkheap of brown stalks and eroded timber that will in the summer bloom with an unwanted wealth of weeds, waxy green wands and milky pods of silk seeds and airy yellow heads almost liquid with pollen."

map

meu

meiadeleitenosol@gmail.com (a mesa de luz) — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 20:13:00 +0000