Anyhoo, took myself off to see Mad Square at the AGNSW. At last, because I've been trying, and failing, to get there for a month. I figured it'd be an interesting companion piece to the Vienna show down in Melb., and it was. It was sort of what happened next, narrative wise.
So it was basically the art of the Weimar Republic, from one war ro the next, and yeah, there was a lot of really, really disturing stuff there, from grotesque battle scenes, horrifying battle wounds and sex and death and an obessession with murdered prostitutes that would do an American crime show proud.
However, it was more than that. There was also the Bauhaus, which, thanks to my non education (no, they never bothered to teach us latin, languages, grammar, spelling, punctuation, music, art or history because we were factory fodder only) I only ever associated with Pete Murphy and his TDK commercial. However, I know Bauhaus. Or rather, a lot of bands and film makers I follow know Bauhaus. There were walls of posters and magazine pages that were so much the album covers of Ultravox, Magazine or Franz Ferdinand.
I find myself becoming quite a fan of the primary coloured squiggles, lines and sharp angles school. Weirdly, a lot of that style of art reminds me of the cartoons I used to watch as a child, but as those cartoons (like the ones here) were probably made by refugees from German art schools (or students of same), it kind of figures. And hey, who knew Mr Squiggle was so Bauhaus, eh? I am bemused.
There were some jaunty sharp-angled chairs and coffee sets, just like the Vienna show (ah, Vienna!) and they were even screening Metropolis, which is way cool and just like crazy infuential. I mean, people are still ripping it off wholesale and it's damn nearly a century old. That's some mighty cultural impact you've got there.
There were collages and photos, too. Turns out, I take photos like a German. Stop sniggering, it was rather startling news to me, but there it is. There wasn't one photo there, and I'd never seen them before in my life, that I hadn't aped in some way, all the hard angles, contrasts and heavy industry. Perhaps it comes from having grown up surrounded by stark factories, works and refineries.
Or maybe I'm just really, really German. Certainly two of the paintings there of dumpy Teutonic frumps could be used for my FB profile pic and you'd not know the difference. Despite my extraordinarily mongrel pedigree, looks like all the Germanic bits must have got scraped together into one frumpy lump. Well, there you go. Now there's a reason why I scare myself and others - grin.
But I did enjoy it. It was also only mildly attended, so I had time to wallow and wonder, which I like.
Best of all though were the band they had playing in the coffee shop. They were just playing folk songs, and mostly Russian ones at that, but I just loved them. I've never loved music so much, never wanted to dance so badly. It was such a wrench to drag myself away, and still hear the crowd cheering wildly. They were amazing. So now I like folk music. Who knew? Certainly not me, but it didn't speak to me, it bypassed that, it went straight to the core of my being and moved me and they were the happiest minutes of my life, the ones I spent swaying to their swirling sounds.
I was also bitterly bereft that I'd forgotten my notebook when I checked my big old work bag. It's such a habit now to sit down in a cafe and reach for my notebok that I felt so frustrated and naked without it, reaching for it over and over again, actually itching to write.
I know I will never be a writer, hell, when I was fifteen I was told I was too ugly to write for television, and I know I'm clumsy and I never finish anything, but where my brain and fingers fail me, my heart does not, because I live to write, I write to live. Not being able to reach for my notebook when I want to, it is the most terrible thing. It's probably why I find long days and longer commutes so unbrearable, because it means I have no time to write (and no, I can't write crushed standing up on the bus).
So I couldn't get it down as I thought of it, but I was up late last night trying to recap and remember. It's better than nothing, but nothing beats the flow of pen ink across the paper, when I'm not even thinking, I'm just in my head, trying to get down the film that's unfolding as quickly as possible (it's why I can't write in places where I need to be peril sensitive, because I'm in my head, why my usual spots are with my back to the wall in a cafe or leaning back against a tree in the park).
The story has galloped away from me again, like a wild horse bolting from the stables. I really, really felt with Peter when he pleaded 'no, whatever you're thinking of doing, just no', but it's no good, for either me or Peter. Neal will have his way.
I've also been indulging in some rather serious tone changing rewrites, elaborating on some darker shades of Neal's character that I'd only been playing with before. I'm not sure I like this new direction but I think it's needed to try and explain why Neal is such a f-k-up. Basically, he is f-ked up. He can't do some of the things he's done, on the show, and not be a bit wrong. All I've done is just cranked the volume, a bit. Okay, a lot. It's not so much taking liberties as the entire Statue of Liberty, but I don't care. I read something about a found objects artist that said the objects were now what he'd made of them, and that's pretty much how I feel now. They're my boys now, and are merely inspired by the show, nothing more.
Besides, there is no way the show is going to be able to follow me down my rabbit holes, not unless they move it to HBO - grin. Yep, it's the HBO/Showtime/Starz version of White Collar. I'm having so much bad, dirty fun with it.
Meanwhile my parcel from Showcase finally arrived. I'd been informed I'd won a True Blood prize ages ago, a day or so after my trip to see Mr Tennant and Mr Law was cancelled (I did get some stuff refunded but I've spent a lot of it on ebay because I'm bitter and hurting) and I was like peacky keen, as least I still have True Blood.
No. It finally arrived the other day and it was easy to see what had happened. The label had been peeled off and badly stuck back on, the package opened and badly resealed, and all but a couple of dvds was gone from inside. I'm afraid I've spent the last two days stomping about, thinking loathsome things about the human race, the unfairness that even my one treat was ruined, that it was almost worse to receive the remains than nothing at all.
But I did get to see Mr Ball anyway. I did buy my own t-shirt. And I still have the S3 dvd which saves me the effort of buying it. So I'm hoping for a wet weekend so I can wallow.
Still, if this keeps up I'm gonna have to rewire my jaw so I can keep on smiling, you know? Not to be ungrateful, but that was a rubbish thing to do. It reminds me too much of being rumbled and robbed when I won the lottery prize in primary school. It hurt then, and it hurts now, the casual evil of others.
Oh, I forgot to mention, one of my original characters is being unruly. First it was just a name mentioned once. Then he got a paragraph. Now he's got a biography, a background story, he's in New York, he's got lines, whole scenes, a plotline, he's changing the course of the story. He's completely taking over. Such a bad, bad boy. A very bad boy indeed.
19 September 2011
700 year old copy of Magna Carta goes on display
Respect for London's elders
Troll hunting: a look at the dark side of the internet
A tweetathon to save the short story
Harlan Ellison sues to stop release of Justin Timberlake movie
Alan Ball - Interview
'Blood' star Alexander Skarsgard shows true range in films
Alexander Skarsgård: Interview with a vampire
The Cinema Society Hosts A Screening Of Screen Gems' "Straw Dogs"
Devil of a time with City of Angels' name
Who needs writers when an algorithm can do the job
Aaron Sorkin breaks his own nose -- while writing
Enough with the anti-heroes
"Southland" Press Conference
Neil Patrick Harris shows for his star on Hollywood Walk of Fame
Gordon-Levitt? Gosling? Warner's Looking for a New 'Man From U.N.C.L.E.'
'Covert Affairs' among summer series renewed by USA
Say bye bye to Louie the Fly - for good
Matt Bomer Interview @ White Collar Movie Set By Radioman
Rush Tickets to Be Released for All-Star Broadway Reading of 8
On the Red Carpet of the Star-Studded Broadway Reading of 8
'8': On the scene at the new, star-studded Broadway play by Dustin Lance Black
Matt Bomer On Why Marriage Equality Matters To Him