Sunday, May 8, 2016

HOCKNEY 5/7/16

I recommend the documentary film HOCKNEY, where we get to "know" David Hockney through the lens of old movies, interviews with family members and close friends, and most importantly his art. The focus of the film is footage of Hockney talking about his paintings, his personal life, his first serious relationship with a beautiful young man named Peter, and his long, deep affection for Henry Geldzahler.

We get a feel for his sense of place by viewing his childhood home in Bradford England; an eventual move to NYC while he was in his twenties; a trip to Hollywood, the setting of most of the "pictures" he had seen as a child in the local movie theater, and his instant attraction to the California way of life with its palm trees and swimming pools, eventually shuttling between England and USA. setting up studios/homes in both locales.

As a young art student he was already daring - had the right sense of style with those big round glasses framing his then jet black-hair. He ultimately changed his look and became a blonde, after viewing Clairol commercials on TV. Loved seeing the drawings and paintings that were so familiar to me, particularly the ones of his parents - works that I have always cherished - blown up large on the big screen enveloping the audience. We see how Hockney's work matures over time, his desire to paint in whatever style or subject matter he felt attracted to (damn the prevailing ethos,) and how photography influenced his idea of rejecting the concept of perspective's vanishing point - and turning it inside out - rather the viewer being the "vanishing point" of a painting.

I have a theory that the greatest artists' works are their late works, ie: Goya, Manet, Monet, Rembrandt, Titian, Morisot, Mitchell, etc. I saw David Hockney's last two shows in NYC and they were by far the best paintings that he had ever done - (an exception being the iPad drawings- they felt too constrained by the medium.) In HOCKNEY, he visits the Grand Canyon and we see how he creates masterful works that belie the fact that age does not have to be about diminished capacities - at 78 years old, his paintings fill the room with color, light and the presence of a man whose curiosity and vitality are in abundance.

Sunday, February 14, 2016

ROOM 2/14/16

Kidnapped at fourteen and locked up in a room for seven years with a five year old child conceived through violence, director Lenny Abrahamson’s film inspired by Emma Donoghue’s novel of the same name - a composite of true events - is titled ROOM; a delicate and harrowing story of two people caught in a private space, where they live a life of extreme tenderness and tension.  The actors are excellent, Brie Larson as Ma and Jacob Tremblay as Jack create a home/neighborhood/community/country  inside a small, cluttered “room” with occasional shafts of light beaming down from a skylight that displays the stars and moving clouds - the outside “world” a dream beyond their reach.

 A television sputtering on the blink allows that other “world” entry, but for young Jack, what he sees flickering on the screen is both real and “make believe” ; distinctions have been erased and are unknowable. The relationship between mother and child is stunning - the  connection between them is acutely poignant, as if the umbilical cord had never been severed. Days are spent exercising, running back and forth- sharp turns are necessary after a few steps, making us aware of the claustrophobic feel of the space; and Ma’s attempt to teach her son to read and maintain a somewhat “normal” existence is impressive and heart-rending. Jack’s poetic and descriptive use of words to describe his circumscribed environment invokes the originality and charm of expressing and interpreting  what we see and feel through language tailored to one’s unique cosmos. We also witness the chilling visits of “Old Nick” her captor whose step on the stairs on his way to the “room” is a sign for little Jack to hide and feign sleep behind a shuttered closet door - the presence of “evil” glimpsed through cracks in the battered and weatherworn slats.

When Jack turns five his mother decides he is old enough to participate in an escape plan involving resilience and courage which eventually succeeds. Mother and child are hospitalized and the second half of ROOM begins. How to acclimate one’s self to being separate individuals, after the powerful link between them is sundered - a tie which was both nourishing and restrictive? Accommodation to “freedom” begins, and the aching awareness of the familiar becoming unfamiliar, as well as the unfamiliar becoming familiar, are daunting and formidable.

ROOM is an exquisitely fragile story of the pliancy of the human resolve to survive and adapt to suffocating circumstances and adjust to the shock of change after flight and rescue. A child’s ability to embrace the magic of his new environs - as one Dr. mentioned in examining Jack, “he is still plastic”; and an adult’s more complex road to acclimatization which includes grieving the loss of a singular bond where the “other” completes you to the exclusion of everyone else.

Monday, February 8, 2016


My article on "first love" was published in Women's Voices For Change.

“A relationship of intense beauty and emotional anarchy was formed, waged by teenagers in the vortex of ‘romantic love,’ where infatuation, anger, and jealousy crack through the shell of invincibility and time is forever-after.”

— Grace Graupe-Pillard

Friday, February 5, 2016


Gregory Crewdson's moving and amazing exhibition titled CATHEDRAL OF THE PINES- photographs of landscapes that have the texture, light and resonance of masterful painting with figures that often feel like they were painted by Georges De La Tour or sculpted by Duane Hanson dislocated from their environment, but still vital to the narrative. I leave Crewsdon's exhibitions with an aching sadness.

We enter a darkened room and a see a 3-Channel screen with naked elderly men and women; some seated, some standing, and others moving slowly like turtles on the left screen - their presence invisible to most viewers; the center screen has clothed middle-age people practicing Yoga and other psychological/spiritual practices; and on the right screen where most of the audience is focusing their attention, are a group of nordic-looking, beautiful young people exuding the energy of eros. All of the participants seem to be strangers who are connecting randomly.

The Dutch artist Guido van der Werve's videos are shocking in their blatant depiction of the sexual act from pre-coital touching to the exhaustion of spent copulation. What begins with a programmed gentle touch becomes a slapping mechanical fornication - which goes on and on and is exhausting to witness. Literally stripped of any eroticism - the mechanics of sex becomes laborious and tiresome.
Meanwhile on the left screen the older folk lay about eating and slowly moving from place to place without vitality. At the very end of the film, everyone ends up in similar positions - splayed out on the floor, bodies fallen in utter capitulation to whatever life force has been exerted. According to the Press Release the videos projected on the three walls represent the id/ego/superego lasting about 40 minutes and beginning every hour - played out in 12 acts (the months of the year.) The names of the astrological signs beginning each new chapter with a visual depiction of the constellations. The only sounds, we hear besides the slurping of sex is a lonely player piano in the center of the gallery - a proxy for the artist himself who has "written a score in 12 parts in the 12 major keys" - the tones clear and lucid.
I was both fascinated and bored - despite its rigid structural formality, the images reflected the simplistic categorization of passion/libido with the passing of time. Desire is not wiped out with age - it is enriched by tenderness and experience.

Saturday, January 30, 2016


Dear Netflix,
I am sorry I ever brought you into my life. My daily routine has been disrupted and I am not sleeping because of the long hours I spend being entertained. I can be very excitable, and have a tendency to become addicted listening and watching your tales which can take hours and sometimes weeks to come to some resolution. I am hooked because of great acting, writing, visual imagery, and the mystery, poetry, and diversity of ideas, that are brought into the manageable circle that was my universe.
But a warning: you cannot take over my life so be aware that we are going too fast and need to slow down to make this relationship a permanent one.

Wednesday, January 27, 2016


I am mesmerized by the Netflix series MAKING A MURDERER - the title is open to many interpretations - does it refer to the corrupt system that wrongfully imprisoned a man for 18 years - does that "make" a murderer; is it the pinpointing of an individual without investigating other potential suspects - "criminal tunnel vision" in revenge for a suit brought against local county officials "make" a murderer; or are Mr. Steven Avery and his nephew the murderers of a horrific crime committed 2 years after DNA exonerated Mr. Avery of the first offense?
Questions about class and "justice"; the fascination of watching a trial in progress - the process revealed - the time, expense, and terrible emotional costs to all the families involved are part of this intense viewing experience - a documentary that is still unravelling.
Truth can be slippery and fragile to grasp. MAKING A MURDERER is profoundly sad; a stunning portrait of the "powerless" pursued by those who have institutional power to alter the trajectory of their lives. Mis-steps are brutal and unforgiving.

Wednesday, January 13, 2016


Director Cary Joji Fukunaga's "BEASTS OF NO NATION" is a terrific film - beautifully acted, directed and photographed. I am numb from the sadness of watching a movie about the recruitment of young boys to participate and be indoctrinated into the horrors of war, where fellow "soldiers" grown into your family. These children witness what can never be purged from their minds and hearts. To lose the innocence of childhood, to descry the cold-blooded murder of one's relatives, and the loss of the land of your ancestors - watching your country being torn apart by constantly changing political factions; survival becomes a momentary respite from killing or being killed; it all becomes easy and commonplace.

War turns a sensitive, imaginative and intelligent youngster into a "beast", but one who never loses his moral conscience, therefore suffering from the fact that he cannot dismiss his own conduct in a world that he was tragically thrust into.