Thursday 25 April 2024

Breaking Social

a film by Fredrik Gertten

Can we afford the rich? You don’t have to watch a 90-minute film to answer this question. Here’s another one: is there any hope left? I mean, for the humankind, in general? The last Swedish documentary I saw left me very much doubtful about it. It also left me angry. Is it a bad thing?

I can’t say that I’ve learned an awful lot from Breaking Social. But I enjoyed it all the same, thanks to the beautiful people appearing in it.

In English and (Chilean) Spanish — I wish those parts were also subtitled!

Tuesday 23 April 2024

Adão, Eva e o fruto proibido & La uruguaya

Two South American films screened in Casa de Colón last week, with a surprise appearance of Ana García Blaya, the director of La uruguaya.

Adão, Eva e o fruto proibido

a film by R.B. Lima

A short starring Danny Barbosa, Lay Gonçalves, Manoa Vitorino, Margarida Santos and William Cabral.

La uruguaya

a film by Ana García Blaya

Lucas Pereyra is a moderately successful writer in his mid-forties, married, with a son, and right in the middle of a stereotypical mid-life crisis. He gets infatuated with a much younger woman, the titular “girl from Uruguay” named Guerra. A series of mildly comic mishaps ensue.

The main problem of this film for me is that I don’t find Lucas “mid is his middle name” either likeable or funny or intriguing — quite unlike his romantic interest. Now I didn’t read novel of the same name by Pedro Mairal on which the film is based. I don’t know whether Pereyra is supposed to be that mediocre. If the answer is yes, Sebastián Arzeno does a splendid job portraying him. Luckily, there is no judging or moralising of any sort in the film; still, I couldn’t care less about Pereyra. Which is a shame. Fiorella Bottaioli shines as Guerra: both down-to-earth and full of mystery.

Sunday 21 April 2024

My mum used to say — Part 4

A follow-up to the first, second and third parts.


Thursday 18 April 2024

Bushman

a film by David Schickele
Truth was not stranger than fiction, just a little faster.
David Schickele

Is it a biopic? Docudrama? Docufiction? Mockumentary? That’s what I was thinking while watching this 1971 movie starring Paul Eyam Nzie Okpokam and Elaine Featherstone for whom, as for most of actors here, Bushman was their only cinematic appearance. I don’t want to give any spoilers. Please don’t read reviews beforehand; go and see this “lost and found”, newly restored feature and discover for yourself.

Tuesday 16 April 2024

Darling

a film by Birgitte Stærmose

Didn’t I write years ago what I think about classical ballet? Yes, I did, and yes, it was years ago, so it’s time to reiterate. To say ballet isn’t pretty is an understatement. It’s a sadomasochistic art form we can live without. I almost wrote “we all can live without” but the tragic truth is that some people can not — or act as if they can not — live without ballet.

Which apparently is the case of the titular Darling (Danica Curcic, Lang historie kort). Not content with destroying her own body, she is bent on inflicting the same suffering on the others, primarily on her substitute Polly (Astrid Grarup Elbo, who is a real ballet dancer) but also, at least potentially, on her future students. And so, the abused becomes the abuser herself. As Darling’s partner Frans (Gustaf Skarsgård) tells her, “your hip is your least problem”.

Incidentally, Frans the choreographer seems to be a reasonable guy who is not buying all this “no pain, no gain”, “a dancer must suffer”, “in my days,” — in my flipping days, says the woman in her early 30s, but wait for it — “I danced the whole act with a broken leg” bullshit.

Another incidentally: I didn’t realise until now what a weird story that of Giselle is.

Sunday 14 April 2024

Elia

by Fermín Solís

After breaking up with her lover Olga (married, with two children), Elia escapes to a small village in Galicia. Which immediately reminded me of Un amor, and brought about the same thought: moving from the city to the arse end of nowhere in a hope to remake one’s life is the worst idea ever.

In this graphic novel Fermín Solís tackles difficult topics with sensitivity and — shall I say it? — love. The monochrome drawings are simple and expressive; just wait till the page where another colour appears! There are plenty of humourous episodes too. My favourite is the airplane game that Elia and her friend Luis play in the car: taking Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper off that fateful plane and shoving there instead all the singers and bands they hate.

Wednesday 10 April 2024

Обломок империи

a film by Fridrikh Ermler

To the modern-day viewer, Fragment of an Empire should have a reverse Good Bye, Lenin! feel. Indeed, the whole sequence of Filimonov (Fyodor Nikitin) returning to unrecognisable St. Petersburg, rebranded as Leningrad, fully deserves to be named Hello, Lenin! The way Filimonov reacts and adapts to the new realities looks pretty comical now but it also must have been so to the Soviet viewers, albeit for different reasons. You’d think that Ermler was taking the mickey, and perhaps he was, for in 1929 it was still permitted. (Ilf and Petrov just started to work on The Little Golden Calf.) Ermler’s satire is at its sharpest in the portrayal of Natasha’s new husband, a “culture worker” and a petty tyrant (Valeri Solovtsov). More subtly and way more subversively, the film shows, through the eyes of Filimonov, the astounding emptiness and inhumanity of “brave new world”.

Some curiosities. Filimonov sees his ex-wife, Natasha (Lyudmila Semyonova), in the window of the express train «Одеса—Харків» (Odesa—Kharkiv). A tram in “Leningrad” carries a warning in Ukranian: «виходити під час руху заборонено», “it’s forbidden to get off while (the tram is) moving”. A constructivist skyscraper in “Leningrad” in fact is the freshly completed Derzhprom building in Kharkiv.

Another one: the page of Société des Amis d’Honoré de Balzac lists Fragment of an Empire as an adaptation of the novella Colonel Chabert. If so, the film draws an interesting parallel between French Restoration and developments in the Soviet Union at the time. The committed Bolshevik Ermler well could have viewed these latter as counter-revolutionary.

This film (a 2018 restored version) was screened as a part of the new cycle Cámara, acción, olvido. El cine, memoria viva of Filmoteca Canaria.

Tuesday 9 April 2024

Lang historie kort

a film by May el-Toukhy

This not-too-romantic romantic comedy provides a refreshing alternative to En familie and its ilk. Long story short: there’s no story as such. Over several years, a group of friends in relationships of many shapes of pear meet at various festive events (eight parts = eight parties). Starring Mille Lehfeldt, Trine Dyrholm, Danica Curcic, Jens Albinus (The Boss of It All, Rosita), Peter Gantzler (Italiensk for begyndere, The Boss of It All), Ola Rapace and many others, including a very large dog.

Sunday 7 April 2024

A Dog’s Life and Pay Day

two films by Charlie Chaplin

Just like four years ago, the closure of Happy Piano Day 2024 in the San Telmo park featured two classic silent movies: A Dog’s Life and Pay Day by the great Charlie Chaplin. Once again, the screening was accompanied by Federico Lechner.

What was different this time is that, at about 21:45, they run out of electricity, or the generator run out of gas and then they run out of electricity. So the lights and projector went off and we missed the last ten or so minutes of Pay Day. The pianist did his best to play the coda, and that was it. I think this added authenticity to the whole show.

Wednesday 3 April 2024

Så meget godt i vente

a film by Phie Ambo
music by Jóhann Jóhannsson

This documentary takes us to the biodynamic farm of Niels Stokholm (1933—2022). It’s beautifully shot, the music is angelic, and you’d be forgiven to think this farm is a paradise. Probably it is, in summer.

While I don’t buy the pseudoscience of biodynamics (no, plant growth doesn’t depend on lunar phases, not to mention the position of Mars), it’s nice to see a guy who genuinely cares about the living beings in his charge, including those to be slaughtered next day. Harmless, in Pauli’s sense. Is it?

For all Niels’s talk about sustainability, organic farming (which subsumes biodynamic farming) is anything but sustainable. Stokholm’s farm may supply their produce (“100% natural” and “chemical-free”, whatever that means) to a handful of posh restaurants. Good for them. Good for Niels. But that’s about it. To quote Jay Rayner,

We need to keep reminding ourselves just how difficult it is to keep a mass population fed, and what a brilliant job large-scale agriculture does.

Niels’s opinion, surprise surprise, is that there is a capitalist conspiracy of chemical companies who just want to sell more fertiliser. On the third hand (provided we had one), if you want to be, or to keep being, certified as an organic or even biodynamic farmer, you’ve got to follow certain rules, and Niels seems to be determined to break them. Maybe, as Tamara suggested, he’s just taking the piss.

Sunday 31 March 2024

Free live music and stuff in Las Palmas, March 2024

This is what I’ve seen in March:

  • 2 March: Kya Loum @ Biblioteca Pública Municipal Josefina de la Torre, Paseo de las Canteras, Las Palmas de Gran Canaria
      This concert was a part of two-day workshop «Mujeres, migraciones y derechos humanos» organised by Karmala Cultura. In fact, I turned up on Friday 1 March to see the performance of Kya Loum planned at 7 pm only to discover that it was already over because the other parts of the workshop have finished earlier. Next day, I came by 7 pm to hear a bit of poetry by Biselé, Karessa Malaya, Gabriella Nuru and Hilda Pérez Rodríguez, followed by the rooftop concert of Kya at 8 pm.

  • 6 March: «Guante blanco» @ Palacete Rodríguez Quegles, Calle Benito Pérez Galdós, 4
      This happened to be a two-in-one evening: presentation of the award of the IV Premio Internacional de Novela de Misterio e Intriga to Juan Muñoz González, the author of the winning novel, El informante; and the concert of Guante Blanco, which was why I went there. The trio of José Carlos Campos (vocals), Antonio Brito (piano) and Paula Conde (electric bass) performed such hits as Armando’s Rhumba, Luz de Luna, Rata de dos patas, Una canción para la Magdalena, Una Notte a Napoli, and Wilkommen and Mein Herr from Cabaret.

  • 7 March: «Magua» @ Casa de Colón, Calle Colón, 1
      The Canarian singer-songwriter Sylvie Hernández presented her debut album Magua, accompanied by Marta Bautista (double bass), Totó Noriega (percussion), Pablo Quintana (guitar) and Ner Suárez (guitar, tres cubano, cuatro venezolano, accordion).

  • 14 March: Ari Giménez @ Museo Castillo de Mata, Calle Domingo Guerra del Río, 147

  • 21 March: Miryam Quiñones @ Teatro Guiniguada, Plaza F. Mesa de León
      More a concert than a masterclass, but I enjoyed it all the same. Miryam Quiñones took us on an illustrated journey through the history of (mostly) Peruvian author song (trova peruana) and added some “Peruvianised” classics of the genre.

And that was it for this month. The sixth edition of Happy Piano Day, originally planned for 23 March, was cancelled due to rain and is now rescheduled to 6 April. Looking forward to it!

Thursday 28 March 2024

Éclaireuses

a film by Lydie Wisshaupt-Claudel

Marie and Juliette run “La Petite École” in Brussels. Their pupils are children who’ve never been to any educational institution — for example, Syrian refugees. After a few years working hard “just” to facilitate integration of their students into conventional school (exactly the kind they left behind to open “La Petite École”), the titular éclaireuses begin to question their original aim.

The documentary raises many questions and leaves it to viewers to come up with answers. I’d like to ask my students (provided that I have any), especially those with teacher aspirations, some of those questions. Is school always a good thing? Is it really such a good idea to focus on the process over the results? Why do you want to be a part of ideological state apparatus? (OK I’ve been asking them this latter question for a while; don’t remember any honest response.)

I loved the clever and sensitive ways the teachers manage to channel the kids’ anger, even aggression, into something creative/positive. Wanna hit things? Let’s hammer some nails in. Wanna fight? Let’s go to another room and fight, but follow the rules (of fighting). It’s all right to break some things. The students learn that things can break — and help to clear the mess.

Thursday 21 March 2024

Beasts of the Southern Wild

a film by Benh Zeitlin
music by Dan Romer and Benh Zeitlin

A powerful and poetic debut feature of Benh Zeitlin starring Quvenzhané Wallis and Dwight Henry, also in their acting debuts as Hushpuppy and Wink, respectively.

According to Wikipedia, at the audition the then five-year-old Wallis “impressed the filmmakers with her reading ability, tremendous scream, and ability to burp on command, all of which are used in the film”.

This movie was shown as a part of the cycle Tiempo de memoria, memoria en el tiempo, organised by Instituto Canario de Desarrollo Cultural (ICDC).

Wednesday 20 March 2024

The Man Who Fell to Earth

a film by Nicolas Roeg

This was the final film of the cycle «Hasta que el futuro nos alcance» of Filmoteca Canaria.

In spite of being the newest item on the list, The Man Who Fell to Earth aged the worst. Mr. Bowie is probably the main reason the film acquired the cult status, but I was much more impressed by Candy Clark’s performance as Mary-Lou.

Here’s a curiousity: Nicolas Roeg was also a director of photography in Fahrenheit 451. Those were the days when film directors knew how to handle a camera.

Tuesday 19 March 2024

Rosita

a film by Frederikke Aspöck
music by Rasmus Bille Bähncke and Johannes Elling Dam

Johannes reluctantly agrees to help his widower father, Ulrik, to communicate with the latter’s mail-order Filipino bride, Rosita. What could go wrong? Another dysfunctional family drama, or comedy-drama, from the cycle Cine danés en femenino. Compared with En familie, I found Rosita more honest, more relatable, and definitely funnier, in a very realist way. Starring Jens Albinus (The Boss of It All) as Ulrik, Mercedes Cabral as Rosita and Mikkel Boe Følsgaard as Johannes.

Sunday 17 March 2024

Dune: Part Two

a film by Denis Villeneuve

Tamara kept telling me how good Ocine 7 Palmas cinema was, so finally we all went there to see Dune: Part Two in VOSE. I was impressed. By the movie theatre, I mean. Huge screen, great sound and, most importantly, electric reclining chairs. Nice.

I have to say that I neither read the novel nor watched the first part. Maybe (I said, maybe) otherwise I would enjoy the movie not as much as I did. Which I did. It’s got stunning visuals: Miyazaki-esque machinery in Kin-dza-dza-ish setting. Not as funny as Kin-dza-dza! though. I find the (apparently important) genealogy stuff pretty boring. How can anyone be surprised to discover that this or that dude is also their sibling/cousin/grandparent is beyond me. Just look at the European royal families.

Paul the main guy (Timothée Chalamet) is a bit meh, and by the end of the movie grows almost as creepy as Frodo. Totally no match for the most psychotic of his secret cousins, Feyd-Rautha (Austin Butler). Comic relief courtesy of Stilgar (our Canarian bro Javier Bardem). Assorted Bene Gesserit women, naturally, look like clones of each other. Chani (Zendaya) is both cute and cool, in the style of Miyazaki’s heroines. She seems to be the only principal character who does not buy into the Messiah bullshit. Respect.

Now, the blue liquid known as Water of Life. What the hell is that? According to Dune Wiki, it’s the bile of a young sandworm. Sorry, but there is no bile in invertebrates. My hunch is that it is haemolymph of the creature, and its colour is thanks to haemocyanin, which is not particularly toxic and could even have anticancer effects. (Another theory is that “Water of Life” is simply a translation of aqua vitae, and what we see in the movie is a coloured spirit such as Kosako Vodka Mora Azul brought on set by Rebecca Ferguson.) Never mind that: they don’t give Water of Life to every Tom, Dick and Harry but only to a few chosen. Easy enough to convince the rest that the chosen don’t die precisely because they are chosen. Do the recipients of Water of Life suffer the “spice agony”? Sure, why not, because they think they might die. Never underestimate the power of the placebo.

Wednesday 13 March 2024

Ekstra Bladet: Uden for citat

a film by Mikala Krogh

If a year (compressed in, well, just under 100 minutes) in life of a declining Danish tabloid newspaper sounds to you like fun viewing, watch this documentary. Otherwise, don’t bother.

The central story, if there is one, deals with the media coverage of two Danes held captive by Somalian pirates (the four fellow Filipino hostages were not even mentioned in the film). Naturally, the prominence is given to the newspaper’s stance (“if not for us, the world would forget about Eddie and Søren”) while the alternative points of view (“you guys are not helping”) are pretty much dismissed. In the end, one of the released hostages filed a complaint, Ekstra Bladet was reprimanded, the sales continued to fall, all in the midst of general apathy. Meanwhile, Shipcraft, the owner of the hijacked vessel, was “cleared of any wrongdoing”. Great.

Thursday 7 March 2024

A Clockwork Orange

a film by Stanley Kubrick

I first learned of this film from the 1974 book called «Алекс и другие. Полемические заметки о мире насилия» (Alex and others. Polemical notes on the world of violence), by one Yuri Zhukov. I remember how much I enjoyed reading this tendentious and hypocritical piece of work, especially the bits mentioning sex because, as we all know, there was no sex in USSR. Revisiting this book now — thanks, Internet! — I wonder if its author indeed believed all the things he wrote (unlikely), wanted the reader to believe them, or was just taking a piss.

По правде говоря, я долго колебался, прежде чем решил прикоснуться к этой теме: так ли уж актуальна для нашего читателя проблема преступности в буржуазном обществе? И стоит ли копаться в столь грязных делах, не оскорбят ли чистую душу советского человека их отвратительные детали, о которых неизбежно придется говорить по ходу повествования, ибо без деталей никакая картина не может быть достоверной?
Truth to be told, I hesitated for a long time before deciding to touch upon this topic. Is the problem of crime in bourgeois society really that relevant to our reader? And is it worth delving into such dirty deeds? Will their revolting details, which we inevitably have to talk about in the course of the story, insult the pure soul of the Soviet citizen, for no picture can be trustworthy without details?

Whatever it was, I am grateful to Mr. Zhukov (RIP) for those revolting details. Since then, I was longing to see the film in all its disgusting glory.

Much later, already in the early 1990s, I read the Burgess’s novel (as «Заводной апельсин») which was published in the magazine «Юность» (Yunost). I wasn’t impressed much by the Russian translation. The original remains on my to-read list.

Finally, I watched the movie as a part of the cycle «Hasta que el futuro nos alcance» of Filmoteca Canaria. What a surprise! I was preparing myself to be clockworkin’ shocked. Didn’t happen. I certainly haven’t expected so much Pythonesque comedy. I can easily imagine John Cleese as Chief Guard Barnes, Terry Gilliam as Dim, Eric Idle as Joe the Lodger, Graham Chapman as any of the officials and/or the Cat Lady, Terry Jones as Alex’s mum, and Michael Palin — sorry, Malcolm McDowell — as Alex himself. Another surprise was to see Prince Charles lookalike (2001 model) as the Minister of the Interior (Anthony Sharp). A masterpiece worth waiting 40+ years for.

Tuesday 5 March 2024

En familie

a film by Pernille Fischer Christensen

Ditte (Lene Maria Christensen) faces a trilemma: to have a baby; to move to New York, New York; or to stay in Copenhagen with her terminally ill father, Rikard. There’s nothing particularly gripping about this Danish, um, family drama — as in [Danish (family drama)], or maybe [(Danish family) drama]. Grim outlook and general non-grippedness notwithstanding, it is actually quite watchable and at times even humorous. Although Ditte is meant to be the central character, it’s Jesper Christensen (lot of unrelated Christensens here) as Rikard who dominates the film; he alone makes it worth watching. The movie is spoiled — here comes another spoiler — by its happy sex ending. I mean, happy sex is great, I just don’t believe that Ditte could be back with her Picasso of a boyfriend (Pilou Asbæk).

En familie opened the new cycle Cine danés en femenino in CICCA, organised by Asociación de Cine Vértigo.

Friday 1 March 2024

Cuerpos vivos & Guián

Two Central American documentaries by women directors, screened yesterday in Casa de Colón.

Cuerpos vivos

a film by Andrea Arauz

An experimental short dealing with gender violence in Honduras.

Guián

a film by Nicole Chi Amén

Nicole is a young Costa Rican of Chinese descent who doesn’t speak Chinese. Her granny Guián, born in China, never learned Spanish. So the two women were never able to communicate in the same language. After the death of Guián, Nicole embarks on a journey to her grandmother’s natal home... An intimate yet universal story. You know, it’s OK to belong neither here nor there.

The title of the film supposedly means “paternal grandmother”. But 奶奶 is pronounced nothing like “guián”: /nǎinai/ 🔊 in Mandarin, /naai naai/ 🔊 in Cantonese. Could it be because Nicole, as she says herself, used to confuse it with 外婆, /ngoi po/ in Cantonese, “maternal grandmother”? Still, does not sound exactly like Guián!

Thursday 29 February 2024

Free live music in Las Palmas, February 2024

Contrary to what the councillor of the Ayuntamiento says, the Carnival of Las Palmas de Gran Canaria 2024 was anything but a success. For me, the worst Carnival I’ve seen here. For many locals, too. La Gran Cabalgata (Saturday 17 February) was underwhelming to say the least. Suadu Sene Faye — Second Maid of Honour who really should have been the Queen of the Carnival of Las Palmas, and who was the main reason I went to see the Cabalgata — was not even there. The procession was eerily silent; not a single samba band as far as I could see. Mucha policía, poca diversión. On Sunday, miserable Entierro de la Sardina, featuring the smallest ever sardine on these shores, followed by the never-materialised drone show, was the cherry on top of this disaster. Praise the sardine, it’s over!

Enough negativity: finally, good quality live music is back, and it has nothing to do with Carnival. I wish it was a bit warmer (and drier) outside though: the only indoor event I went to was the masterclass in Teatro Guiniguada.

  • 14 February: Quartet D’Arezzo @ Palacete Rodríguez Quegles, Calle Benito Pérez Galdós, 4, Las Palmas de Gran Canaria
      Mozart, Bach and some tangos. Featuring Pablo Melián (violin), Luis Montesdeoca (violin), Ayose García (viola) and Marisa Roda (cello).

  • 15 February: Beatriz Martín @ Museo Castillo de Mata, Calle Domingo Guerra del Río, 147
      The singer-songwriter from Tenerife was a star of the second concert from the cycle «12 Noches de autor» (I missed the first one in January).

  • 24 February: Verónica Ferreiro @ Teatro Guiniguada, Plaza F. Mesa de León

  • 24 February: «Con alma mexicana» @ Auditorio José Antonio Ramos, Parque Doramas
      Fabiola Trujillo has opened the new Musicando season. Very different from her «La flor de la canela» programme of 2021 — as you can guess from the name, this time the focus was on Mexico. The “mariachi band” included Luis Montesdeoca, Carlos Marrero, Óscar Guerra and Izan Falcón (violins), Juan Ramón Martín, Juan Antonio Guerrero and José Antonio García “Pepé” (trumpets), Ivanoff Rodríguez (bass), Daniel García (vihuela), Abraham Sierra (contra) and Juan Carlos Sierra (guitar, musical director).

  • 28 February: «Italia» @ Palacete Rodríguez Quegles
      Chiara Salerno (soprano) and Nauzet Mederos (piano) offered an evening of Italian opera and Neapolitan song. My favourite was their rendition of ’O surdato ’nnammurato.

And that was it for February.

Wednesday 28 February 2024

Domingo Domingo

a film by Laura García Andreu
Hallo, mein Name ist Domingo Domingo. Willst du meine Mandarinen probieren?

A humorous and touching documentary about an inventive farmer from Valencian community. While the old timers spend their days in the bar (nothing wrong with it) complaining how orange growing is going to the dogs, Domingo Domingo has a cunning plan... (In Valencian, with Spanish subtitles.)

Monday 19 February 2024

Planet Earth III

a film by Kiri Cashell, Tom Greenhalgh, Abigail Lees, Will Ridgeon and Sarah Whalley
presented and narrated by David Attenborough
Whales should be saved and you agree wholeheartedly about that, except as far as you knew they were all pretty strong swimmers anyway. Rhinos should also be saved, but where would you get a rubber ring big enough to go round them?

If Planet Earth II was a brilliant update to Planet Earth, its follow-up, Planet Earth III, looks like an unnecessary postscript to Planet Earth II. As usual, amazing camerawork and stunning locations. It’s all but destroyed by simplistic writing repeating the same (not winning) formula episode after episode and by a force-fed tree-hugging agenda that would convert born vegans to whale-munching carnivores. Also, some scenes, if not actually staged, certainly look as if they were staged.

OK, I admit it, there are parts worth watching. For instance,

I’ve found on YouTube some pretty cool Behind the Scenes footage that unfortunately didn’t make it to the DVD. Such as this:

Thursday 15 February 2024

Поёт Марк Бернес

by Mark Bernes

Very different from Les Grandes Musiques de Films but equally loved by my mum was an LP called simply «Поёт Марк Бернес» (Mark Bernes sings). Since the mid-seventies, although she was perfectly able to put it on the turntable, my mum would rather ask my brother or me to do it. As a result, the vinyl was scratched beyond any reason. So yes, another record I grew up listening to and damaging it in the process.

On the sleeve, a black and white photo of a middle-aged man holding a mike. Back then, I’d probably say “an old man”. Old? The album was released in 1968; Mark Naumovich Bernes (Марк Наумович Бернес) died the following year aged 57.

I myself would never call Bernes «певец» (singer) — I felt that word was reserved for the likes of Iosif Kobzon, Lev Leshchenko or Muslim Magomayev. Bernes was a chansonnier. He was not singing his heart out but talking, joking, telling a story.

I can’t listen to this disc now with the same ears as 50 years ago. The opener, «С чего начинается Родина» (What Does the Homeland Begin With), just makes me cringe. I can live with most of the lyrics — I mean, it’s all right, not worse than a typical Anglophone pop song — such as the one of surprisingly jazzy «Всё ещё впереди» (Everything is Still to Come). Two tracks, however, are unquestionable masterpieces: «Тёмная ночь» (Dark is the Night) and «Шаланды, полные кефали» (Scows Full of Mullet)*, both composed by Nikita Bogoslovsky with lyrics by Vladimir Agatov for the 1943 film «Два бойца» (Two Soldiers). The songs in the movie sound quite different from those on the 1968 record. For example, in the “original” «Шаланды» Bernes pronounced the name Odessa as «Одэсса» /ɐˈdɛsːə/ while in the ’60s rendition it’s the normative «Одесса» /ɐˈdʲesːə/. Imprinting and all, I still prefer the latter version.

As for «Тёмная ночь», it deservedly became one of the most famous and beloved Soviet songs created during the Great Patriotic War... and that despite neither being patriotic nor mentioning the war. Yes, we know, the war is raging on — in the film. Bullets, mortal combat, death are all present, but there is no word “war” in the lyrics. And so the song transcends time, place and circumstances. An immortal classic.


* Curiously, the word шаланда comes from the French chaland (barge), and that, in its turn, from Ancient Greek χελάνδιον; кефаль (mullet) from κέφαλος; and Одесса (Odessa) itself was named after the ancient Greek city of Odessos (Ὀδησσός).
According to Nikita Bogoslovsky, «Шаланды», its success notwithstanding, was harshly criticised by Soviet bureaucrats (who likened the song to criminal folklore) and not recommended for official performances.

Wednesday 7 February 2024

Too Much Happiness

by Alice Munro

Ten delightfully complex, dark and/or disturbing gems from arguably the greatest living short story master.

Inevitably, the “our Chekhov” cliché (attributed to Cynthia Ozick) has found its way onto the book’s dustjacket. Have those who repeat it ever read Chekhov? Or Alice Munro? Well, Munro is nothing like Chekhov. She’s in a class of her own.

The first nine stories all take place in Canada. Now, as a note aside: I don’t know much about Canada. It’s a huge and sparsely populated country. Apart from ice hockey, it gave us, off the top of my head, Margaret Atwood, Farley Mowat, Yann Martel, Leonard Cohen, Joni Mitchell, Maynard Ferguson, Oscar Peterson, Kenny Wheeler, Diana Krall, Lhasa de Sela, Tanya Tagaq, Peaches, Lido Pimienta, Leslie Nielsen, Dan Aykroyd, Mike Myers, Keanu Reeves, Donald Sutherland, Rush, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Cirque du Soleil... And, of course, Alice Munro. The Klondike Gold Rush inspired many a work by Jack London that I enjoyed reading as a kid. Yet the first thing that springs to my mind is The Lumberjack Song. Oh, the power of a stereotype.

To be fair, a wood cutter by the name of Roy actually is a protagonist of the short story called Wood. As Canadian as possible under the circumstances? Maybe. To me, Roy is a stereotypical Finn.

This curious diagram from Wikipedia shows the evolution of sections in Wood, first published in 1980 and then in its revised form in this collection (2009):

“The 2009 version comprises eight sections to the 1980 version’s three, and has a new ending.”

The title story — at 50+ pages, shouldn’t it be called a novella? — is quite different from the rest. It is based on the life of the Russian mathematician Sofya Kovalevskaya (Sophia Kovalevsky in the story) and, as far as I can see, pretty faithful to historical events.

As another note aside: yes I heard about Kovalevskaya when I was in school, and later at the university. Not much though. The fact that she was not able to attend a university, let alone get any teaching job, either in Russia or abroad, was somehow glossed over*. Her mentor, Karl Weierstrassthat Weierstrass, the author of an endless list of theorems — also appears in the story.

The amazing thing is, even here, even knowing how it’s gonna end, Munro’s stories and characters are not predictable.

If I were to choose three stories, it would be those that are narrated in the first person: Child’s Play, Some Women and Wenlock Edge.

She was never at a loss. Sometimes she came equipped with riddles. Or jokes. Some of the jokes were what my mother would have called smutty and would not allow around our house, except when they came from certain of my father’s relatives who had practically no other kind of conversation.
These jokes usually started off with serious-sounding but absurd questions.
Did you hear about the nun who went shopping for a meat grinder?
Did you hear what the bride and groom went and ordered for dessert on their wedding night?
The answers always coming with a double meaning, so that whoever told the joke could pretend to be shocked and accuse the audience of having dirty minds.
And after she had got everybody used to her telling these jokes Roxanne went on to the sort of jokes I didn’t believe my mother knew existed, often involving sex with sheep or hens or milking machines.
“Isn’t that awful?” she always said at the finish. She said she wouldn’t know this stuff if her husband didn’t bring it home from the garage.
Some Women

* Or so I thought until I came across the 1948 essay by Pelageya Polubarinova-Kochina [1]. The author does not make any secret that Kovalevskaya was not employable in pre-revolutionary Russia — and adds that
Currently in the Soviet Union, all conditions have been created for a woman to engage in science equally with a man, if this corresponds to her natural inclinations.
Polubarinova-Kochina, a distinguished mathematician herself, lived through the birth and death of the USSR and died at the young age of 100.
  1. Полубаринова-Кочина, П.Я. Софья Васильевна Ковалевская (очерк научной деятельности). В сборнике С.В. Ковалевская. Научные работы. Редакция и комментарии члена-корреспондента АН СССР П.Я. Полубариновой-Кочиной. Издательство Академии Наук СССР, Москва, 1948, стр. 313—342.