The Secret in Their Eyes

One of the most absorbing and convincing films I have seen this summer. Drawn from Eduardo Sacheri’s novel La Pregunta de Sus Ojos (The Question in Their Eyes), this Argentine film had me (and the boyf) rigid in a cinema seat for its entire 129 minute length. Told in flashback the story follows Benjamín Espósito, a retired legal counsellor as he struggles to start his first novel, the subject of which was inspired by a shockingly memorable case his department investigated. Liliana Colotto is the young victim of the case was brutally raped and murdered in her apartment in Buenos Aires. Upon divulging the tragedy to her equally young husband, Espósito vows he will retrieve those accountable. And he certainly keeps to his word.

Without giving too much away, one of my favourite scenes follows the counsellor and his faithful yet alcoholic partner Pablo Sandoval as they stand at a ridiculously crowded football stadium at the edge of the city, as they follow a lead that the main suspect of the crime could be at the game. It is then revealed that this is the latest match of numerous that the investigatory team has attended over a period of months, yet on this occasion (call it 34th time lucky or so) Espósito successfully identifies who they are looking for within the throngs of cheering fans. A captivating moment both in its cinematographic skill and exhilarating plot.

Acting alongside the ruggedly handsome Ricardo Darín (Espósito) is Soledad Villamil, who plays Irene Menéndez Hastings, Espósito’s boss, who with her wit, intelligence and gorgeously elegant Argentine looks provides an agreeable if slightly obvious candidate for Espósito’s aching heart. I warmed to her further after she had called Espósito a dummy however, as he may be sharp with his investigation, yet hopeless on the relationship front. But altogether, a sensational and somehow beautiful thriller, a big yes from Wild Goose Chase Begins!
The film I was pleased to discover afterwards has won the Oscar for the Best Foreign Film amongst other extremely prestigious titles. No argument there.

Stadium Scene



Apologies but I couldn't find a video with subtitles but I hope you can still feel the suspense of the scene!

This Could Happen to You: Ikon in the 1970’s

Harold E. Edgerton.
Milk-Drop Coronet, 1957
Harold & Esther Edgerton Foundation, courtesy of Palm Press


I believe that every shift I work in Birmingham, I fall a little bit more in love with the Ikon (despite the occasional hung-over stint, ahem). Aside from my recent discovery that staff can order food at the gallery’s sumptuous restaurant for half price at lunchtimes (!) the current exhibition is, in my opinion, a joy. Ikon looks into its past; its’ gradual blossoming into Birmingham’s previously non-existent arts scene during the experimental and politically vigorous years of the 1970s. This includes a rendezvous with not only Ikon’s choice of artists in the seventies but also its’ locations, including a space in the Pallasades shopping centre. Above New Street Station, this is a structure which itself has apparently not changed since the seventies and is run down, fluorescently lit and teaming with pound shops. I have yet to invigilate this part of the exhibition and remain curious to discover how the bargain hunters in the centre take to an influx of Harold E. Edgerton’s stroboscopic photography where Santa’s Grotto and accompanying plastic polar bears are usually housed during the winter months. But this is not Edgerton’s first time: in January 1976 Ikon Gallery staged ‘Seeing the Unseen’ in the shopping precinct and at this point, the manipulation of the flash was a pioneering experiment in photography, the other creative arts generally and even science. Edgerton’s means of capturing the finest details of an image in time was revolutionary in the seventies and is still particularly striking today.

In the current and undoubtedly more chic location of the Ikon in the present, there are yet more treats to behold. The seventies saw countless innovative surges in creative industries and art grappled between an invasion of photo-realism in painting to an entirely opposite move towards severe abstraction, a rejection of the more classical forms of art. Some have found the abstract pieces we have however a little challenging. Indeed, one female visitor while I was on the second floor witheringly scrutinised John Dugger’s ‘Ergonic Sculpture’ and asked me, ‘What the **** is that supposed to be?!’ It can be difficult looking calm and intelligent when responding to these kinds of questions when you’re referring to what looks like a tent for a dwarf suspended from the ceiling decorated with surgical tubes and plastic netting.

However, my favourite piece from the exhibition at the moment (which may change- it often does) is David Medally’s work, ‘A Stitch in Time’. Alongside realism, theoretical and conceptual art, many of the artists working in the 1970s wanted to achieve a sense of the inclusive into their work, to make work accessible to a broader range of people. Medally’s work is a charmingly colourful collaboration of creation and interraction. Oversized models of cotton reels hang across the ceiling while slightly below, actual cotton reels mirror this action. At sitting level is a stretch of gold canvas held taut on a frame where the public are encouraged to sit and stitch something into the fabric. I may have contributed something small already but I am considering buying an old cross stitch book to leaf through for inspiration- there are four and a half weeks left of this exhibition after all!

More photos to follow soon!

Come on baby light my fire...

'Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as ravens claws.'
Jim Morrison

Director Tom DiCillo’s new treat: ‘When You’re Strange’ presents exclusive unseen footage of the Doors following their whirlwind careers from 1965 through to lead singer Jim Morrison’s death in 1971, all smoothly narrated by the dulcet tones of a certain Johnny Depp. I was all over this like a rash. Hosted by the Art Deco elegance of the Electric Cinema in Birmingham, now the oldest running cinema in the country, one can sit back in plush velvet sofas and enjoy the film with a cocktail. The old traditions are often the best I find.
The film follows both the chemistry and the clashes between Morrison and the rest of the band; drummer John Densmore, guitarist Robby Krieger, keyboardist Ray Manzarek. The camera watches as the band experiences its greatest highs as musical superstars touring Europe. However, during the Doors' first American tour, we witness Morrison’s gradual self destruction under his heavy alcohol addiction and a charge of indecency and public obscenity. The documentary follows the band's ambivalence and frustration over their lead singer's lack of co-operation during this period. However, audiences are also drawn into Manzarek, Krieger and Densmore’s dedication in maintaining the Doors intoxicatingly sensual appeal, doubling their vigour during shows where Morrison had collapsed centre stage, in order to encourage him to rise to his feet once again. The fantastic high quality recordings comprise memorable gigs from the band's performances on the Ed Sullivan Show and the Isle Of Wight Festival. Morrison completely captivates both the contemporary fans of the sixites and seventies on the footage and the modern audience in the Electric.
Let’s face it who couldn’t with a combination of leather clad legs, long wavy locks and deep sultry eyes. Phwoar.

Boooo, Bacon, Briptych

To the delight of my housemates, who are avid fans of Facejacker's Brian Badonde, a pompous and flamboyantly gay art critic, I have decided I may well look at Francis Bacon, 'that man who paints those dreadful pictures' according to Margaret Thatcher- for my dissertation topic in History of Art.

Gloriously grotesque eh?

Figure in a Landscape, 1945

Three Figures and Portrait, 1975

Figure Study I, 1945

Badonde would be 'broud'.

Employment, hurrah!

My old friend the Ikon Gallery has offered me invigilation work for the summer and perhaps beyond then!
Falalalala :)

This is the view from one of my cover spots.



More info to follow on Ikon's most recent exhibition, tis a cracker.

258 forever baby

Today, everyone has officially left our humble abode in Selly Oak.
The only crap thing about having amazing housemates is when you don't have half of them them anymore.
Love always girls
x




♥

History of Art Summer Soiree

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.

Shakespeare ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’

A thousand apologies for the lack of new posts, exams somewhat suck inspiration like a sponge from me- I actually misspelled ‘revision’ one day, not a good moment as a twenty year old English student.
However, the year finished off with many more beautifully sunny (occasionally horrendously burned) and often exquisitely drunken moments.
The first to be enjoyed was the tireless efforts of the History of Art Committee for our end of year ball. A Midsummer Night’s Dream provided a faultless theme for end of term summery shenanigans with fresh flowers and fairy lights swathed all around our Art Deco venue, the Barber Institute of Fine Arts.
From an unofficial committee member who felt her contributions to extra-curricular activities were at an all time low I was boosted to poster and ticket designer. After much flustering, I finally remembered how to use the basics on Photoshop and an old GCSE art project photograph became the basis of our soiree’s promotion. Other less glamorous duties included the moving of sixty chairs (which seemed to weigh three tonnes each) from our student guild across the Barber but then again the path of... well organised committee events never did run smooth... *Pause for well deserved groans*
The evening began with a Pimms reception, followed by fancy finger food and a fabulous line up from Root 47, a local band hired for the night. Jazz arrangements of Jamiroquai and James Brown tracks stirred the guests to dance all night long, a first for a HOA soiree. The dancing was somewhat less sophisticated than the theme and atmosphere of the night but you can’t win them all!











Lord, what fools these mortals be.

♥

Photos courtesy of the lovely Kimberly Faria