Rendering 8 (Theatre)

The article under study is taken from The Telegraph and is entitled "Before the Party, Almeida Theatre, review.” It was published by Dominic Cavendish on 29 March 2013, and regards the revival by Matthew Dunster of Rodney Ackland’s 1949 play, which was in its turn an adaptation of a 1926 short-story by William Somerset Maugham.

The article is evidently in favour of the new performance, for a lot of positive coments are carried here on this topic. But, before speaking of the play itself, the author provides us with some details of the synopsis. One learns from his review about a widow who’s grown fed up with mourning the loss of her ill-suited, drunken husband, and who may have had a hand in his death out in West Africa; besides, there appear her frightful family memvers, whose craven adherence to the respectable norms of their middle-class tribe is now threatening to suck the life out of the not-so-young woman’s fresh start with a new man.

Giving appraisal of the play, it’s necessary to point out that Rodney Ackland’s earlier version of the story by Maugham was a success, so that there’s something the new version of the performance can be compared with. According to Dominic Cavendish, the 1949 play fleshed out its wry source in a theatrically entertaining way and ferreted out its nutritious dramatic meat too, for the director managed then to deliver a rebuke to hypocrisy and overbearing propriety. In outspoken terms the author expresses the view that Maugham’s literary work is bitterly satiric in fact: if one is only scoffing at the Skinner household as it faces an inconvenient bombshell moment ahead of an afternoon garden party and not looking closer to home, then they’re rather missing its enduring, darkly comic point. And here, in both plays and the one by Matthew Dunster as well, the main characters – the domineering matriarch Blanche, the would-be politician Aubrey, Laura’s twisted unmarried sister Kathleen and even a fascist-sympathising cook who has locked a Jewish maid in the cupboard – are bitterly ridiculous in their embodiment on the stage.

The author concludes by praising all actors for their brilliant performance – he evidently found no fault with any of them. Though not being a theatre-goer (not because I don’t like this kind of art – there’s just no opportunity to visit it frequently), I’d see this play with pleasure after such a review – for who dares not to like William Somerset Maugham?

Film Review: "Anonymous"

Anonymous (2011)

Director: Roland Emmerich

Writer: John Orloff

Stars: Rhys Ifans, Vanessa Redgrave, Joely Richardson, David Thewlis, Xavier Samuel, Sebastian Armesto and others.

Music by: Harald Kloser, Thomas Wanker

Distributed by: Columbia Pictures

Release date: 28 October 2011 (2011-10-28)

Running time: 130 minutes

Country: United Kingdom, Germany

Synopsis: The film Anonymous deals with the longstanding question of who wrote the plays of William Shakespeare. Here Edward De Vere, Earl of Oxford, is presented as the real author of these works. The hero’s life is followed through flashbacks from a young child through to the end of his life. He is portrayed as the one who writes plays on topical subjects and is involved into incestuous relationships with his mother – Queen Elizabeth I of England.

Review:

It’s a well-known fact that, concerning such brilliant literary works as “Romeo and Juliet,” “Hamlet,” “King Lear” and the following, William Shakespeare’s authorship has long been disputed. Thus, some of the many notables who have called in question that the barely educated Shakespeare wrote those plays, include Sigmund Freud, Mark Twain, Charlie Chaplin, Orson Wells, famed Shakespearean actor Derek Jacobi, James Joyce, etc. One more theory was provided in 1920 by an English schoolmaster John Looney. According to him, Shakespeare's plays were written by Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford, a child prodigy and a highly educated person who developed a serious interest in the arts and wrote several poems under his own name. It’s exactly on this theory that the film “Anonymous” is evidently based; however, the events taking place in this movie have little to deal with the real history anyway.

Frankly speaking, I wasn’t much pleased by this story I was told. Moreover, the film made on me quite an unfavourable impression from the first seconds. Perhaps it was due to its whole atmosphere: I’m not sure if that old England of Shakespearean times was portrayed credibly in the film – at least to me, for I’m not an expert, it seemed quite believable, – but everything on the screen was too dark, too ominous and oppressive. I’ve heard, of course, of insanitary conditions in Europe in the beginning of the 17^th century, of poverty and unhealthy political situation there – still I don’t think it all could be so repulsive.

Another unpleasant aspect was the plot itself, especially the idea of incestuous relationships between Edward of Oxford and Queen Elizabeth, with all ensuing consequences as represented by Earl of Southampton – their illegitimate son, Edward’s brother and the Queen’s grandson at the same time. As I remember, somewhere in the middle of the film I found myself at a loss about who is who; besides, the whole situation is embarrassing, if not to say disgusting.

Now, at last, I’d like to mention some things I can’t find fault with. First of all, it’s the actors’ play, as I didn’t see anyone who would be an obvious miscast. Then, the version of someone another than Shakespeare who panned the well-known plays, however shocking and outrageous it might seem, was at least out of ordinary. Finally, Shakespearian times with Elizabethan theatre and its mysterious atmosphere were and still remain intriguing and strangely magnetic.

To sum it up, I’d like to say the following: it would be unfair and improper of me to adjudge this movie, so one should find time and watch it to decide for themselves whether it’s worth seeing or not. At least, I don’t think the film would be of any harm to someone: let people better see movies about Shakespeare than some new releases about monsters and warlike aliens.

Individual Reading "The Moon and Sixpence"

Summary

1. It appeared from Tiare’s story that it was she who found Strickland his wife, a 17-year-old native orphan Ata, with whom the man settled in a remote hut and had two children. 2. The girl was a perfect partner for the artist, for she never bothered him and didn’t prevent him from painting – that’s what the narrator learned from Mrs. Johnson. 3. Later he met Captain Brunot, a Frenchman who happened to know Strickland and some facts from the artist’s family life with Ata. 4. The seaman also had an impression from the girl as a quiet and dutiful wife; besides, what the Captain had in common with Strickland was great admiration of beauty, so that the man could appreciate the pittoresque of the place the painter had chosen for living at its true value. 5. Having established friendly relations with the writer, Monsieur Brunot introduced him to Dr. Coutras who could tell the men about Strickland’s last years of life. 6. It turned out that the artist was fatally ill with leprosy, but refused any help and went on painting, at first on canvas and later on the walls of the house. 7. Only Ata with her children stayed with him to his dying day and then set fire on their hut, following her husband’s will, though the painted house was a work of art. 8. Finally the time for the narrator to spend on Tahiti was over, and the writer went back to London to see Mrs. Strickland and to inform her of some facts he’d learned. 9. The woman was engaged in meeting arts critics and behaved in all ways like a famous artist’s wife.

Rendering 7 (Theatre)

The article under analysis is taken from the Guardian and is entitled “The Book of Mormon – review.” It was published on March 24th, 2013, by Euan Ferguson.

In this article a new musical ‘The Book of Mormon” is discussed, which is now on in the theatre Prince of Wales, London. Mr. Ferguson is evidently is in favour of this play, for it is far cleverer, far kinder, far more nuanced than some modern performances, and one of its many surprises is that it sends an enraptured, ecstatic audience home with an odd sense of having come, somehow, to really like Mormons. From his point of view, the first surprise is how punchingly good the music and dancing are, by Robert Lopez and Casey Nicholaw respectively: you realize you're in for not just humour but a seriously fine night of entertainment, and it just keeps on getting better. The story itself about Mormons, which is so winningly, foot-stompingly told us, is bright, fierce, challenging and unashamedly scatological, offensive even, but – and the author of the article emphasizes this, - in such a good, clever, kind way.

Speaking of the musical, it would be necessary to say some words about the plot. The main characters, two Salt Lake City heroes, are sent as missionaries to none of the happy clean places, but to Uganda. They go in hope, with huge but faintly fixed smiles, of conversions, baptisms, validation – but everything appears to be not so bright and smooth as they have expected, as the Africans actually live in poverty, and the friends have to deal with Aids, baby-rape, malaria and the perhaps wholly excusable desire to repay God in mysterious ways. This, according to the author, has been the controversial and apparently offensive bit; still, it's one of the highlights. Analyzing the play in whole, Euan Ferguson also expresses the view that the entirely redemptive nature of the whole show, and how belief may be… insane, but also a force for temporal good.

In conclusion the author suggests that if you’re not against some controversial themes regarder in this musical, a night of unalloyed joy is provided to you. Having read such a review, I would follow the advice with pleasure and see the play, if I only could; and, due to the comments on this article, now I’m not alone in my wish to visit this performance.

Rendering 6 (Theatre)

The article I’m going to discuss is taken from The Telegraph and is entitled “Proof, Menier ChocolateFactory, review.” It was published by Jane Shilling on March 21^st, 2013.

The article takes a critical view of the revival of Tony Award-winning play Proof at Menier Chocolate Theatre, which, according to the author, is beautifully crafted but lacks emotional significance. It’s reported here that the play premiered off-Broadway in 2000 at a period when higher maths became an unexpectedly voguish source of inspiration. Speaking of the plot itself, it’s necessary to note that Auburn’s protagonist is Catherine (Mariah Gale), a young woman who has abandoned her degree in mathematics and takes care of her father, Robert, a Professor at the University of Chicago who had a mental breakdown; however, it soon becomes clear that Robert is only a ghostly summoning of her imagination, for he had just died. In this connection it’s also worth mentioning that Robert’s former student Hal (Jamie Parker), from Catherine’s permission, looks through Robert’s papers to see if he was engaged on any work of value and finds a notebook containing the mathematical proof of the play’s title — a work of (allegedly) astonishing originality. But who is its author? That’s what, Jane Shilling says, the spectator is expected to reflect on.

In resolute terms the author of the article praises Auborn’s play for being beautifully crafted and constructed with all the self-conscious urbanity of a Terence Rattigan drawing-room drama. Nevertheless, from Jane Shilling’s point of view, Proof lacks the depth of feeling. It’s made clear that while the play flirts with big themes (especially the blurred boundary between madness and genius, that is love), Auburn’s play seems too conscious of its own sophistication to achieve the intellectual and emotional significance for which it palpably strains – and this is the author’s final verdict.

Actually, though I haven’t seen this play for sure, I cannot but agree with the author that modern plays tend to be lacking simplicity, sometimes producing more favourable audience reaction than all that performances overflowing with some philosophical ideas, unintelligible for an average viewer.

Rendering 5 (Theatre)

The article under analysis is taken from The Los Angeles Times and is entitled “Rumor, legend and a tabloid report sparked 'Camelia la Tejana.”  It was published on March 16^th, 2013, by Reed Johnson and touches upon the theme of a meta-opera, trying to deconstruct the mythology around its central character.

It’s reported at length in the article that Mexican composer Gabriela Ortiz's "Camelia la Tejana," which will be performed this month at Long Beach Opera, is actually three stories in one. First, there's the legend of Camelia la Tejana, a Mexican drug-smuggling queen who shot and killed her lover in a jealous fit — of course, if she really existed. Then there's the tale of how Camelia's gruesome exploits were immortalized in the smash tune "Contraband and Betrayal,” written by Ángel González and recorded by the superstar band Los Tigres del Norte. Finally, according to the author’s words, there's the story of how Ortiz and her brother stumbled upon a 1986 interview with a woman claiming to be the "real" Camelia la Tejana in a well-known Mexico City newspaper. That tabloid confessional, Ortiz says, helped persuade her and her sibling that the lurid saga of Camelia was the stuff of which great opera could be made.

Whether any of these stories — or elements of each — are true, false or occupy some shadowy land between fiction and reality, it’s necessary to emphasize that "Camelia la Tejana" is going to be something out of ordinary.   Spectators and those who have been involved in its creation and production claim that the six-scene work, ironically subtitled "Only the Truth,” is a meta-opera that uses Brechtian staging, video projections and a mash-up of musical styles to deconstruct the mythology surrounding its mysteriously compelling central figure. It was also revealed that its dramatic characters, including the title one, are all based on real people: their sometimes conflicting, sometimes overlapping accounts shape the work's prismatic perspectives. Reed Johnson adds that, simultaneously, "Camelia la Tejana" seeks to seduce audiences with a melodramatic tale, part western, part film noir, that hardly could be more timely, given the spasm of drug-fueled violence that has killed at least 60,000 Mexicans in the last six years while feeding the insatiable habits of Uncle Sam's offspring. Thus, according to Ortiz Torres himself, the theme is how a character in a song gets created through the media into a myth, because the character supposedly doesn't exist. In this connection the author expresses the idea that those ambiguities helped attract the Ortiz duo to Camelia’s story, which has now really become very famous; it’s interesting that Ortiz accounts this success also for the profession of an artist itself: as a good actor, you have to convince people of the honesty of the work.

The author concludes by saying that dead men and make-believe women may lie, so art must seek its own truth. From my point of view, these words can be interpreted in the following way: one may or may not believe in characters on the stage or screen and in what they say, but art is all the same a specific sphere where everything is relative. If I am right, it’s really so, and you don’t need to take anything at its surface value when watching a play or a movie – just enjoy the performance.

Individual Reading "The Moon and Sixpence"

Summary 5

1. One day, while walking along some Paris street, the narrator suddenly met Strickland, and they had a talk, despite the young man’s unwillingness to speak to this person. 2. It appeared that Charles didn’t actually love Blanche all that time and only needed her as a woman; it was likely that he was incapable of any other strong human feeling except the desire to paint. 3. Quite unexpectedly the man offered to show his pictures to the narrator and, having seen them, the latter was disappointed and impressed at the same time, for the canvases were rather badly painted, yet there was some mysterious power in them. 4. From that time the young writer never saw the artist again, but years later, when Charles had already died, decided to write a book about this strange, but outstanding person. 5. To collect more facts from Strickland’s biography, the narrator went to Tahiti, where the painter spent the last days of his life. 6. There he met Captain Nichols, also an Englishman, who was with the artist when the latter was having a hard time in Marseilles without money or any lodging for the night, and the one through whom Charles finally got to the islands. 7. One more person who knew Strickland closely was Mrs. Tiare Johnson, the proprietress of the local hotel: the painter came to her sometimes to have something to eat, and the kind-hearted woman did her best to help him settle down.

Individual Reading "The Moon and Sixpence"

Summary 4

1. After Blanche had gone, life lost its sense for Dirk Stroeve. 2. He pursued her constantly, trying to have a talk with her, but the woman didn’t even listen, for she was evidently quite satisfied with her choice. 3. Still her unfortunate husband didn’t lose hope to have her back, until one day after some quarrel with Strickland Blanche tried to commit suicide. 4. Oxalic acid she had drunk burned her internal organs, but the woman lived for several more days before she died. 5. After the worst happened, Dirk made a decision to return to Holland, to his mother. 6. Besides, when visiting the studio, the man found a picture by Strickland, depicting naked Blanche lying on a sofa; he wanted to tear canvas, but wasn’t able to, for it was really a work of art. 7. The Dutchman went to the painter himself to return the picture and invite the man to go to Holland as well, but only got the painting into his possession. 8. After that case he departed, and the narrator never saw him again.

Rendering 4 (Painting)

The article I’m going to analyze, is taken from The Telegraph and is entitled "Becoming Picasso: Paris 1901, Courtauld Gallery, review." It was published by Alastair Sooke on 19th February, 2013.

A lot of comments are carried here on Pablo Picasso’s works, displayed at the Courtauld Gallery in London as part of the exhibition named Paris 1901. The author begins his review with describing the artist’s self-portrait where, according to Alastair Sooke, the painter appears incandescent, a fireball of inspiration and cocksure ambition burning against a background as dark as outer space – and so he actually was, having illuminated the 20th century like a comet. By the way, it’s exactly because the canvas was painted in Paris in 1901, the whole exhibition was given that name.

Speaking of Picasso’s works of that period, occupying the first room at the Courtauld, there’s clear evidence that the artist was deeply influenced by contemporary French painters: swirling forms and sickly, ghoulish light of French Can-Can, for instance, recall the posters and paintings of Toulouse-Lautrec. In addition, Picasso’s Dwarf-Dancer (La Nana) – a young dwarf wearing a tutu, irradiated by a light show of spectacular painterly effects – is surely an impudent riposte to Degas’s paintings of ballerinas.

In the second room of the gallery, however, it becomes evident to Mr. Sooke that later Picasso’s style began to coalesce into his so-called Blue Period. There’s every likelihood that the renowned artist changed the appearance of his paintings — moving away from energetic, broken brushwork even though this had won him admiring critical attention. Thus, this shift can strongly be sensed in a complex composition called The Blue Room, presenting a naked woman bathing in a bedroom: the mood of this painting is much more melancholic, that is quite unusual for the artist’s previous works. Speaking of the situation in whole, it’s necessary to note that Picasso developed this new look in the late summer of 1901, so that he favoured more monumental forms and extensive planes of colour. For instance, one of his most famous works, Absinthe Drinker, represents a woman who embraces herself with monstrously elongated arms and hands, like prey slowly being crushed to death by the pythonic coils of introspection and depression. There’s every reason to believe that in paintings of café drinkers like this Picasso was at last fashioning his own distinctive artistic identity.

In conclusion the author states that the narrative of this exhibition is one of the most exciting stories that can be told about the life of any major artist – of breakthrough, and suggests not missing the chance to visit it. As for me, I’m not fond of Picasso’s works, as well as all these experiments in the sphere of art; nevertheless, I would accept this offer if I were asked, as one should take every opportunity to get acquainted with famous painters’ works, no matter whether you like them or not.

Film Review: "Frida"

Frida (2002)

Cast: Salma Hayek, Alfred Molina, Antonio Banderas, Valeria Golino,    Diego Luna, Mía Maestro, Edward Norton

Director: Julie Taymor

Plot: The film portrays the life of Frida Kahlo, a Mexican painter who lived a bold and uncompromising life as a political, artistic, and sexual revolutionary. The movie starts with some details of Frida Kahlo's (Salma Hayek) upbringing in Mexico City, and her nurturing relationship with her traditional mother (Patricia Reyes Spindola) and philosophical father (Roger Rees). Once, when being a child, the heroine gets badly damaged in a city bus accident, which nearly ends her life, and, as a result, she is impaled by a metal pole. But in her bed-ridden state, the young artist produces dozens of works; when she recovers, she presents them to the legendary Mexican artist Rivera (Alfred Molina), the man she has already been in love with and who takes her under his patronage. They become lovers inevitably, for Rivera is a well-known lady-killer, and later get married. But their relations are quite prickly, as two creative personalities seldom get on with each other.They quarrel, get divorced even after an argument, and then re-marry again; Diego goes on paying court to other women, including Frida’s sister Christina, while Kahlo suffers from her, in many ways, despairing love, what finds the reflection in her works, full of some magnetic life-asserting power. And the end of hers is the most becoming: the woman dies as an admired and acknowledged painter, and her dear husband gives her the last honours.

Review:

Long in gestation and attached to a number of actors, directors, and producers, the Frida Kahlo biopic, produced by and starring Salma Hayek, finally reached the screen in 2002. Actually, the film presents itself a mixture of drama and biographical film, or biopic, and so is drawn from real life. It touches upon the themes of human relations, love and self-sacrifice, art and its role in a person’s life, as well as the ever-regarded theme of people’s search for sense in life.

Frankly speaking, I’ve heard about Frida Kahlo before when read some story describing her biography. But now, having watched the film, I can say I’m really impressed, by Frida herself in the first place. What a strong-willed and self-possessed woman she must have been to suffer from a serious trauma for whole her life, behaving as if she was a queen at the same time! She brassed ring, loved and painted, dressed up every time she appeared in public… and before her husband, of course. Frida was really a fantastic woman, and I really admire her.  Thanks to Salma Hayek for so vividly and realistically portrayed image of the talented painter – I must admit, she is a good actress. Alfred Molina was also very convincing as Diego; this hero is not so positive as Frida, but so Rivera actually was, and in Molina’s performance he seems quite lively and out of ordinary. The other actors are maybe not so bright and memorable, but all at the level. And one more aspect I’d like to pay attention to is music by Elliot Goldenthal: hot, passionate Spanish and Mexican motives served a perfect accompaniment to the action.

To sum it up, I’d like to note that the film is by no means worth watching. There’re not so many biographical films I know that I’d like to recommend to somebody, for most of them give only one-sided portrayal of a well-known person, usually depicting only their most unattractive human features. This one has a fine cast, an interesting plot and evidently talented director and composer – so why not watching it again one day?

Individual Reading "The Moon and Sixpence"

Summary 3

1. While living in Paris, the narrator went on dining with Strickland and visiting the couple of Stroeve at their home almost every day. 2. Dirk, still a friend of Charles and a great admirer of his paintings, couldn’t bear Strickland’s rude and careless treatment of him, at the same time being attracted by the artist’s solid force. 3. Once, after some argument, Stroeve sought for the painter to reconcile with him again and to ask the man to spend Christmas together; but no one had seen Strickland for two or three weeks. 4. Having heard that he was ill, both Dirk and the narrator started questioning his acquaintances and finally found him in a shabby room almost near to death. 5. It was decided to move him to the Stroeve’s house, despite Blanche’s desperate protests. 6. Finally Strickland was settled in, and the woman, to the narrator’s amazement, did all her best taking care of him. 7. Moreover, after the artist had got much better, Blanche unexpectedly left her husband for Charles. 8. Astonished and depressed, Dirk tried several times to persuade her to come back, but she had made up her mind already.

Rendering 3 (Painting)

The article I’m going to analyze is headlined “William Scott, thepainter who made the everyday into a masterpiece.” According to data provided, it was published in The Guardian on March 2^nd by Paul Laity.

In this article an English painter William Scott’s works are discussed, that were forgotten in the heady rush towards pop art and now deserve a re-evaluation. It’s a well-known fact that the artist is most often admired for his kitchen-table still lives, featuring pots, pans, bowls, plates of mackerel, pears and so on – all rendered simple and plain. According to the author, Scott painted exceptional nudes and landscapes, but the "pots and pans" remain his trademark: the subject of his pictures towards the end of the Second World War, they were still there in his more minimalist work of the 1970s. However, it’s necessary to point out that Scott's still lifes are far from naturalistic, as they dissolve the distinction between the abstract and the figurative. As the painter himself said in a statement, "behind the facade of pots and pans there is sometimes another image … a private one … sensed rather than seen".

Analyzing the situation in whole, it should be emphasized that Scott made a breakthrough in the 1950s, when he had acquired "the soundest, all-roundest international reputation of any living British painter." Unfortunately enough, even by the time he was given a major retrospective by the Tate in 1972, he had begun to fall out of favour, and the ironies of pop art quickly made him old-fashioned. However, nowadays, Paul Laity observes, Scott's circle of admirers is widening: along with other 20th-century British masterpieces his works have risen sharply in price (about £500k or more), and by the end of 2013, he can't help but be better known.

Speaking of the painter’s works and their, the author makes a supposition that they must have originated in Scott’s childhood. Due to some facts from the artist’s biography, Scott was born in Scotland, and brought up in Enniskillen, Northern Ireland, the son of a sign-painter and one of 11 children. He later remembered this environment as a "very austere one with a philosophy of life," and the idea of austerity stayed with him: "I find beauty in plainness," he said, "in a conception that is precise." In this respect it is also worthwhile mentioning that Scott had a lifelong interest in childlike art, "the beauty of the thing being badly done"; the paintings he especially admired and that much influenced his later creative work were those by Rousseau, Modigliani, Bonnard and Matisse. Scott's paintings, including The Frying Pan (1946), Table Still Life (1951), The Harbour (1952) and Still Life with Orange Note (1970) were still lifes as never seen before, “badly done” and primitive even; yet they were praised and even admired.

The author concludes by saying that there’s something peculiar and even magnetic in the artist’s use of colour and simple forms, that makes us think over the rich and longstanding relationship of a master of still life with kitchen pots and pans. As for me, I can’t say I am a fan of such art as that by William Scott, and prefer works by classical painters. For me, the more realistic the picture is and the more details it contains, the more attractive it is; nevertheless, I’m not going to blame those who find beauty even in primitiveness.