Ennio De Concini (1923 – 2008)

Ennio de Concini is dead

Ennio De Concini (19232008) was a prolific Italian screenwriter and film director, winning the Academy Award in 1962 for his screenplay for Divorce, Italian Style. He achieved cult notoriety with Europa di notte (1959) and Bava‘s Black Sunday (1960).

La Maschera del demonio / Black Sunday (1960) – Mario Bava [Amazon.com]

La Maschera del demonio/Black Sunday (1960) – Mario Bava [Amazon.com]
image sourced here.

Maschera del demonio, La/Black Sunday (1960) – Mario Bava [Amazon.com]
image sourced here.

Black Sunday (Italian title: La maschera del demonio) is a Italian gothic horror film directed by Mario Bava, from a screenplay by Ennio de Concini and Mario Serandrei, based very loosely on Nikolai Gogol’s short story “Viy”. The film stars Barbara Steele. It was Bava’s directorial debut, although he had helped direct several previous feature films without credit.

Europa di Notte soundtrack by Jahsonic

Europa di Notte by JahsonicEuropa di Notte Japanese poster by Jahsonic

Europa di notte (Nuits D’Europe/Europe by Night) is a 1959 Italian film directed by Alessandro Blasetti, written by Ennio De Concini and Gualtiero Jacopetti. This documentary in the “sexy” “mondo” genre is a potpourri of contemporary nightclub and striptease acts recorded all over Europe, including the Crazy Horse Saloon in Paris. Stripteaseuses Dolly Bell, Lily Niagara and Carmen Sevilla are credited. The soundtrack of the film featured “Dans mon île[1] by French singer Henri Salvador, an early influence on the emerging bossa nova style. Scenes of the film are also featured in Do You Remember Dolly Bell?, the first feature film directed by Emir Kusturica.

Colin Hicks & The Cabin Boys appeared in the Italian film Europa di notte (Europe By Night / Nuits D’Europe ) with Giddy Up a Ding Dong[2]

Joris Ivens @110

Joris Ivens @110

Misere au borinage by Ivens and Storck

Misère au Borinage

Joris Ivens (18981989) was a Dutch documentary filmmaker and devout communist. He is internationally known as a foremost documentarist of the early twentieth century, noted for his co-direction of the political film Misère au Borinage, which I had the pleasure of screening in class last year.

Borinage is noteworthy in media theory because it proves the inherent ficticiousness of the documentary film.

Like most documentaries, it mixes reality and fiction, and in this case, contrary to authorial intention. For the film, the two directors had arranged a manifestation with extras from the Borinage. The miners were to walk behind a portrait of Karl Marx. The police mistook it for a real manifestation, they intervened and the “protest” was dispersed. This was filmed by Ivens and Storck.

It would cause Walter Benjamin to write in The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction:

“Similarly, the newsreel offers everyone the opportunity to rise from passer-by to movie extra. In this way any man might even find himself part of a work of art, as witness Vertov‘s Three Songs About Lenin or Ivens Borinage.”

Foretelling Andy Warhol’s famous 15 minutes dictum, Benjamin added that “Any man today can lay claim to being filmed.”

[Youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d4mvpRDp6wk&]

Rain, accompanied by unknown beats.

If Borinage is a Blakean dystopianand did those feetanti-industrialization document, Ivens also made Rain, a much more impressionist affair, generally considered a “city symphony,” a loosely outlined genre typified by Manhatta (1921) and Berlin: Die Sinfonie der Großstadt, (1927).

There was a tremendous fascination with the metropolis, the big city during the 1920s and 1930s, dubbed fittingly for this context, as the Machine Age. Mostly associated with visual culture such as the decorative style Art Deco, the arts movement Cubism, Streamline Moderne appliance design and architecture and Bauhaus style; there were also the films including Chaplin’s Modern Times and Lang’s Metropolis.

Often overlooked are the “city novels,” mostly labeled a modernist subgenre but in reality as old as the novels of Charles Dickens. For our purpose I include Rainer Maria Rilke’s The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge (1910), John Dos Passos‘s Manhattan Transfer (1925), Alfred Döblin’s Berlin Alexanderplatz (1929), James Joyce’s Ulysses (1922) and T. S. Eliot’s vision of London in The Waste Land (1922). Especially John Dos Passos‘s Manhattan Transfer (1925) is of importance here as it offers the most positive view of the dynamics of speed, the modern way of life and the unavoidable fragmentation of existence.

While writing this post, the painting below was constantly on my mind. Paris in the rain. That why Paris invented arcades, and Benjamin could write about the romantic mediatic aspects of the city.

Gustave Caillebotte: Urban Impressionist (1995) – Anne Distel
[Amazon.com]
[FR] [DE] [UK]

François Caradec (1924 – 2008)

Jane Avril by  François Caradec

François Caradec is dead. “Oh no,” shouts Jane Avril

Cafe concert by Caradec

“We’ll see about that,” says the café concert visitor

Encyclopédie des FARCES et ATTRAPES et des  MYSTIFICATIONS

“It’s not a farce,” says the book that ought to know

François Caradec (Quimper, 1924November 13, 2008) was a French 20th century writer, biographer and historian of French popular culture and the history of the comic book in particular. He was a member of the Oulipo and a regent in the Collège de ’Pataphysique. He is the co-author of the history of farces, Encyclopédie des farces et attrapes et des mystifications.[1].

He wrote biographies on Lautréamont, Alfred Jarry, Raymond Roussel (translated by Ian Monk for Atlas Press), Alphonse Allais, Henry Gauthier-Villars, Le Pétomane and Jane Avril.

Hauntology and Burial Mixes

[Youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=68RrcW3yVjY&]

“What a Mistry ” Tikiman

Hauntology is a concept in nascent state (to borrow a term from Francesco Alberoni). That’s why it is still flexible. Any good music with the word “burial” in it deserves to linked with the concept. Not including Basic Channel‘s Burial Mixes has been an oversight. I just set that straight. (within 15 minutes from time of posting, check Google)

Some background info on Basic Channel and its reggae releases labeled Burial Mix. If Wackies Records is the natural heir to Lee Perry (the same laid-back percussion, flying cymbals en relaxed groove), then the Burial Mix releases are the natural heirs to Wackies. There, we’ve just connected the 1970s to the 2000s

Some obliquely related burial imagery:

Tomb of Pompeii by Jean-Baptiste Tierce, 1766

Tomb of Pompeii by Jean-Baptiste Tierce, 1766

Cenotaph for Newton (1784) by French architect Étienne-Louis Boullée

Cenotaph for Newton (1784) by French architect Étienne-Louis Boullée

Gratuitous nudity #14

My previous post provides me with an opportunity to provide you with a new instance of gratuitous nudity: a beautiful still from Africa Addio.

Africa Addio (1966) – Gualtiero Jacopetti, Franco Prosperi
Image sourced here. [Dec 2005]

Africa Addio is a 1966 Italian documentary film about the decolonization in Africa. It was shot over a period of three years, by Gualtiero Jacopetti and Franco Prosperi, two Italian filmmakers who had gained fame a few years earlier (with co-director Paolo Cavara) as the directors of Mondo Cane in 1962. The image was taken from the Captain Trash[1] site somewhere in 2005. This site is a treasure trove of “trash culture“. See its Google gallery here. See for example this image, of which I do not know the provenance.

Any similarity to any person, event, or institution is intentional and anything but coincidential

In search of intentional and unintentional similarities in fiction

[Youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CrV1sfJHLHg]

Addio Zio Tom (Goodbye, Uncle Tom) (1971) by Gualtiero Jacopetti and Franco Prosperi

“All events, characters and institutions in this motion picture are historically documented and any similarity to any person, black or white, or to any actual events, or institutions is intentional and anything but coincidential.” –from the credits to Goodbye Uncle Tom, see fictionalization and fiction disclaimer.

Thus opens or closes Goodbye Uncle Tom of which a clip is listed above and it provides an excellent introduction to the tenuous relation between fiction and reality.

Addio zio Tom (1971) – Gualtiero Jacopetti, Franco Prosperi
Image sourced here. [Dec 2005]

Two more quotes provide further food for thought:

“It’s no wonder that truth is stranger than fiction.” Fiction has to make sense – Mark Twain
“The mind of man can imagine nothing which has not really existed.” —Edgar Allan Poe, 1840

If we represent the relationship between fiction and reality on a sliding scale we find on the left hand side: fiction which makes no claim to reality. This kind of fiction is nowadays always preceded by the fiction disclaimer:

“Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.”

The above is sometimes preceded by “The characters in this film are fictitious,”.

This kind of fiction is helped by Poe’s quote in its theoretical approach. If done well, this kind of fiction is called the fantastique, that area of literary theory which provides us with an unresolved hesitation as to our position on the reality/fictitiousness scale. Another growth of this kind of fiction is the roman à clef a novel and by extension any sort of fiction describing real-life events behind a façade of fiction. The reasons an author might choose the roman à clef format include satire and the opportunity to write about controversial topics and/or reporting inside information on scandals without giving rise to charges of libel.

On the right hand side of the scale we find fiction that does make claim to reality. This kind of fiction is nowadays usually preceded by the claim based on true events:

This kind of fiction is helped by Twain’s quote in its theoretical approach. Real stories are often so unbelievable that we need to make the claim that they are based on actual events.

As a narrator of fiction, one is always aided by this claim to capture the audience’s interest. This is true in the case of a joke (tell it as if it has happened to you), in the case of novels (Robinson Crusoe was soi-disant based on actual events) and film (Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) was supposedly about Ed Gein)

A whole range of concepts falls into this category, listed under the heading fictionalization: faction, based on a true story, false document, nonfiction novel, true crime (genre), histories (history of the novel), stranger than fiction and mockumentary.

The funny thing about the right hand position on the fiction/reality scale is that the act of narrating alters reality by default. I always illustrate this point by going back to your youth. You had a brother or sister and you fought with him over something. You went to your mother or father or any other judge-figure, who gave you both the opportunity to tell the story. You both came up of course with a different version.

Which brings me to the Heisenberg uncertainty principle and the observer effect. If the act of perception alters reality, the act of telling a story alters reality. That is why I dislike films such as Schindler’s List because in this case, “real” documentary material is available. Maybe this is also the case for Goodbye Uncle Tom, but boy, I sure would like to see that film.

Mitch Mitchell (1947 – 2008)

RIP Mitch Mitchell

[Youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jmFhgpL_rQY]

Voodoo Child (Slight Return)

John “Mitch” Mitchell (July 9, 1947 November 12, 2008) was an English drummer, best-known for his membership in The Jimi Hendrix Experience. Mitchell was known for his work on such songs as “Manic Depression” (a 3/4 rock waltz that finds Mitch playing a driving afro-cuban inspired beat), “Voodoo Child (Slight Return)[1], “Fire” and “Voodoo Chile” (a deep blues groove with subtle hi-hat). Mitchell came from a jazz background and like many of his drummer contemporaries was strongly influenced by the work of Elvin Jones, Max Roach, and Joe Morello.

Mitchell pioneered a style of drumming which would later become known as jazz fusion. Alongside Hendrix’s revolutionary guitar work and songwriting, Mitchell’s playing helped redefine rock music drumming.

Electric Ladyland cover, photo by David Montgomery

The death of Mitch gives me the opportunity to discuss the photo on Electric Ladyland, one of my alltime favourite record covers. The photo depicts nineteen nude women lounging in front of a black background.

“The cover was put together by Chris Stamp and Track Records art director David King while Hendrix was in the US. Stamp sent King and photographer David Montgomery down to the Speakeasy to round up some girls, with the brief to make them look like “real people. At £5 a head (or £10 with their knickers off) this sounds like authentic Stamp.” —33⅓ on Electric Ladyland by John Perry[2].

One of the 19 girls, Reine Sutcliffe, told the music paper Melody Maker:

“It makes us look like a load of old tarts. It’s rotten. Everyone looked great but the picture makes us look old and tired. We were trying to look too sexy, but it didn’t work out.”

British visual culture connoisseur Stephen Bayley adds:

“The concept was fully in accordance with the spirit of the Sixties: at the same time Harry Peccinotti and David Hillman had done a memorable photo feature for Nova magazine” –The Independent on Sunday, July 16, 2006 by Stephen Bayley[3]

I’m afraid I can’t agree with miss Sutcliffe on this matter. I find the realism in this photo not enticing but more than fascinating nonetheless, though I also admit I empathize about denying her five minutes of glamourous fame.

L’erotismo by Francesco Alberoni (1986)

L'erotismo by Francesco Alberoni by Jahsonic

Looks like Japanese translation of L’erotismo

I started reading Francesco Alberoni‘s L’erotismo (“Eroticism”, 1986). I discovered Alberoni through de Botton when I read Essays in Love, Alberoni’s predecessor is a cult item.

The main discourse of the book is difference between female and male feelings for eroticism along the continuity/discontinuity axis, an approach I believe first explored by Georges Bataille, although Alberoni invokes Pascal Bruckner and Alain Finkielkraut (Le nouveau désordre amoureux).

It also mentions a 1894 funny study by Francis Galton on skin sensitivity in women and men: The relative sensitivity of men and women at the nape of the neck.

The book is well-informed and references Nina Baym (mother of Nancy Baym) and her work on women’s fiction and female reading and writing practice (and the mishistoriography thereof). It equates female pornography with the novels of Barbara Cartland and her equivalents in Europe (Liala in Italy and Delly in France).

Also mentioned are Helen Hazel, the author of Endless Rapture: Rape, Romance and the Female Imagination[1], a work on the rape fantasy (bodice rippers), and Opus Pistorum by Henry Miller (but actually ghost-written by female writer and entrepreneur Caresse Crosby.

And I’ve only read 10 pages.

Dare I say one of the more interesting works on eroticism to have crossed my hands?

P. S. I’m reading a Dutch translation, I’m not sure if L’erotismo has been translated into English.

In praise of compilations


[Amazon.com]
[FR] [DE] [UK]

One of the best CDs in my collection is Nova Classics 01. I am not much of an album man, so my entire collection nearly consists of CD comps (besides my record collection, which is mainly twelve inch singles).

Over the summer, when we were in Nocito I was joined by friends and I had the Nova Classics 01 with me.

So this friend really liked it and two weeks ago I proposed that I’d buy it for her. The prices were incredibly high however and I was lucky to find a copy for 20USD in the states, because the prices were between 50USD and 290USD.

The good news for you my friends, is that I’ve managed to track down YouTube version of 12 out of the 17 songs.

Enjoy by clicking the numbers.

My inner werewolf

The Howling (1981) – Joe Dante [Amazon.com] [FR] [DE] [UK]

I woke up yesterday night bathing in sweat. I get up. I look outside, full moon. That explains. My inner werewolf was trying to get out.

So I give you Joe Dante‘s The Howling, IMNHO the best werewolf film since WWII. Dante was an alumnus of Roger Corman, for whom I have an excessively soft spot. The film is WCC #71.