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.