Surprises and Melancholia (Bitch Buzz)

I meant to do a Friday Forgotten Book, but today took a few unexpected turns which involved a glorious day at the beach, a much overdue haircut and a shiny new iPad2 (thank you Fulbright Foundation) which is charging now. So I have added some lovely photos to the Ireland photo album, including a cute little Scottie dog (oddly enough, I'm working on a story that has one as a character). It's often difficult to get the corvids to sit still long enough -- or close enough -- to get a good picture, but rooks have been the best so far. Sitting in a tree on Claddagh Walk, one proved low enough to allow me to get a couple of shots that look all right. I keep trying to get the hooded crows and the magpies -- they're such fun to watch, but wisely wary of humans. Of course, in Galway there are always swans.

Low tide always has such interesting textures in the sand. I like the barnacles and seaweed exposed as the water recedes. Such a variety of textures. Makes for interesting pictures. And there's always my favourite spot. Sigh. It's so picturesque.

My column is up a bit later than usual: overdose on film coverage in the wake of the even more disappointing than usual choices. How the impact of a film like Melancholia could be overlooked seems a mystery. Oh wait, no it doesn't. It focuses on women and isn't a "chick flick" (horrid term).

Oscar Nomination Melancholia

As Bitch Magazine has already observed, the sky is blue, water is wet, and the Oscar nominations are a big feminist disappointment. This seems to be the year they officially become as irrelevant as the Grammys, an industry showcase that reflects no vision of reality outside the industrial boardrooms. In a year when awards can be offered for run-of-the-mill biopics that make horrid people "vulnerable" and "human" (one begins to suspect a subterranean right wing campaign funding both the films and the awards). At least the National Society of Film Critics and the jury at Cannes  picked up on it.

In the seemingly ever smaller number of films that pass the Bechdel Test, one major film got completely overlooked for the major awards: Lars von Trier's Melancholia. It's kind of stunning because it includes the sort of bravura acting that usually gets awards—had it been men in the roles, perhaps the statues would be lining up. Perhaps it was the uneasy accusations of misogyny leveled at von Trier particularly in the wake of Antichrist. But here's the thing: every female character does not have to be a squeaky clean role model or redeemed hooker. Male characters have the space to be good, bad or better yet, complicated. Women remain largely relegated to secondary roles in most films and to films dismissed as 'chick flicks' when they star in them.

Melancholia is no chick flick. It is harrowing in so many ways—not least for the unflinching portrayal of real depression...

Read the rest at BBHQ as always. I have more to say about Melancholia, I think. I've really only scratched the surface here: I want to talk about visualising the end of the world -- and the music, too. Anon -- always too much to do!

Mistaken Identity

Happy new year, everyone. It's been a cold and damp one so far in Ireland (shock!) but Miss Wendy and I managed to get out in the bit of sun yesterday for a little while to do some wandering and bird watching. New birds sighted included  chirpy little robin and moorhen up by Salmon Weir. It turns out that all the "crows" I have been seeing around the city are really rooks. Here's a dramatic shot of one out on Nimmo's pier who let me get quite close.

New Years Day gave us some good (if overlapping) television including Eddie Izzard's Treasure Island, a new episode of Sherlock and another AbFab. We only watched the first hour of the pirate yarn and then switched over to see Holmes and Watson -- and of course, Irene Adler. I wish I could say that Moffat & Co did her proud; for the greater part they did, but then by the end... sigh. Why do so many people have such a hard time seeing women as people, not just "not men"? If you haven't seen the "magic womb" Xmas episode of Doctor Who you might not find it as irksome. Then again you might. AbFab was amusing and gave Jane Horrocks a chance to show off her uncanny singing abilities. Edina's outfits were eye-searingly painful.

Bank holiday today: not sure what might be open. Sun's out at the moment. We're thinking of going to the islands tomorrow. More adventures! 

Happy St. Urho Day!

As the delightful flaming grasshopper (courtesy of the fabulous Stephanie Johnson AKA The Queen of Everything) indicates, today is St. Urho Day when we commemorate the famous Finnish leader who chased the grasshoppers from the vineyards with the cry,

“Heinäsirkka, heinäsirkka, mene täältä hiiteen!”

[Roughly, "Grasshopper, grasshopper, hie thee to hell!"]

Don't forget to load up on Grasshopper Hellfire merchandise from the Raven and Wombat Tea Party! And let's not hear any murmurings about the authenticity of this saint or his holiday -- take my word as a Finn and wear your purple and green proudly!

Stephanie Johnson: The Creative Process

Kicking off our Women's History Month celebration with a bang! Yes, folks -- it's the fabulous Queen of Everything, the corvid monarch herself today. She's a fantastic artist, creator of the wonderful Raven & Wombat Tea Party merch (see our St Urho design!), co-conspirator of the Women's League of Ale Drinkers, a printmaker, logo artiste, designer and of course, proprietor of the Aloha Alcohula [best damn tiki bar in Connecticut!].

The lovely, talented and prolific Kate asked me to blog about the creative process -- specifically, my creative process. I don't believe I consciously have one.

The process has to start with inspiration: I am fortunate and blessed to know so many writers, musicians and artists, all of whom inspire me constantly. I also have a mental repository of visuals ranging from Looney Tunes to Art Chantry, Art Nouveau posters to Inuit prints, prehistoric art to Hatch Show prints; movies, photography, music, books - there is so much out there to inspire everyone. I just acquired a  coffee-table book on Circuses - and I don't doubt the awesome visual impact of the pages will figure in somewhere, sometime into a new project.  A mere Facebook conversation has produced some wonderful images in my mind. 

The creative process, as it works in me: an image pops in my head, it's usually a challenge, and I think it's cool. If it has humor, even better. If it's inspired by a friend, total bliss. 

Caw!

My students in the medieval film class watched The Virgin Spring today; they nominated it for "the feel good film of the year." I forgot to talk about Odin ahead of time, so they had no idea what the squawking raven presaged (or, for that matter, the guy with one eye and a cloak standing on the river bank, or the carved seat that Ingeri sits down on). But they were quiet as the proverbial mice all the way through which is unusual for them (and no, not sleeping). After the downbeat BBC version of the Pardoner's Tale last week and now this, they say I'm depressing them. "I usually feel happy after this class," one student complained.

My work is done.

Walking back to my office afterward, it was time as usual for the roosting of the crows. It's that time of year. Dozens fill the trees surrounding our building, calling to one another, catching up on the latest gossip, complaining about the weather, I'm sure.

Corvid Sightings

Last night at my pal Barb's new house, we were greeted by her new door mat with a raven and a line from Poe's immortal poem, images of crows and ravens everywhere, and better yet by some Legendary Magpie Mead! Quite tasty -- and local, too. We're going to have to get some for ourselves.

I had an email from friend and former UHD colleague (now in Colorado) Jim, who among his many talented forays was recently photographed for a new project by the Corvo Brothers. "You'll like their work," he said -- and he was right. Can't wait to see what they do with his photo. His wife Angela Beloian is an amazing artist as well, and their son Nelson has apparently become an adept musical composer already (as well as model: follow the Corvo Bros link above to Oddities, then Orphans. He's l'enfant terrible).

Time to get back to work on the Halloween cards -- and then revising my essay on Terry Gilliam's Tideland. Although looking at the department newsletter yesterday, where my list of publications filled most of a half-page column, perhaps I should slack off a little (as I imagine hearing muttered comments of "over-achiever" from my colleagues).