Ravels in Review and GOODBYE

Click “Se Flimklippet” to see another video I made, that you can make too! The ModernaMuseet, or Modern Museum, in Stockholm has a fun program that lets you create videos on your keyboard, and then they are posted at the museum during an upcoming exhibition.

I said another video earlier because, as you might have seen, this week was the premiere of another Ravels In Motion production, of a recent visit to Chelsea to see painter Anne Neely’s latest works. I think they’re well-worth seeing if you have the chance. (Both my videos and her works.

For more great art, check out Melissa Meyer’s dancing paintings and some intersting examples of what can be done in clay. If you feel a little tired of life during these dreary March days, see Doug Aitken’s Sleepwalkers film and read about how it was installed at MoMA.

In addition to the good times, we’ve also had some disappointing times here during our ravels, and this week proved to be full of them. Not only was favorite author Milan Kundera shown to be a communist sell out and Shakespeare unattractive, but Alessandro Twombly showed some works recently that are distrubingly similar to his father’s, painter Cy Twombly.

All these disaapointments in one week were too much for me! So goodbye, dear reader, and farewell!

I’m going to go drown my sorrows in the Costa Rican surf and chilly cervecas. (Because if you have to drown your sorrows, Costa Rica is the place to do it, no?) But fear not for I shall return to you in good time, specifically, April 6. Adios!

2 Disappointing Endings and More

In our literary ravels, we’ve discussed post-Communist Czech writer Milan Kundera and his wonderful novels and we’ve even talked a little bit about William Shakespeare. Recently, some disappointing findings have come to light.

  1. Milan Kundera was accused of betraying his countryman and according to this recent, fascinating article, it seems that the case against him is strong. As in, indisputable.
  2. Shakespeare was proved to be quite a looker, but is now maybe going back to being plain, old Shakespeare. Too bad.

And in some news ala Art Ravels, Alessandro Twombly’s most recent paintings look a lot like his father’s, the more famous painter Cy Twombly. See the photos, you decide (just like Fox news, except I’m both better looking and informed).

For ‘edification’ or a laugh, read MSN’s ‘How to Talk about Art’ in case you were reading this blog and were unsure about how to leave a comment. Then laugh at its ridiculous advice, and say whatever the hell you are thinking.

I do have a great video coming, but due to unfortunate/stupid/annoying embeding problems, you’ll have to hold on the edge of your seat in the meantime.

Unfinished and Unread Books

Lately all these arts and culture posts have been artsy in a visual way. That’s fine in itself, except it’s a symptom of a greater malady. And no, not being sick of hearing about the presidential election. It’s that I can’t dig my teeth into any new book. True, I could be to blame. I did try to read up on medieval history and found my enthusiasm waned quickly. There were no pictures. But I also took out a collection of short stories by Russian author Isaac Babel, whose style is excellent and subjects are humorous and folksy. He has a great short story, Guy de Maupassant, and it inspired me to go for the whole oeuvre at once. Sigh…bad idea.

I went to the New York Public library online. It’s hard to search their catalogs, and I ended up almost ordering a dozen old favorites. However, the point is that I want new contemporary fiction. After my Milan Kundera phase, I want a new pet author. And I do not want this to became a fall of Dostoevsky or a winter of Proust. Dear god, I want to get through the winter without committing suicide. Classics thought they may be, my mind doesn’t seem to be up for a challenge.

So I went to Borders looking for a cure. Tragic. The books they put on those shelves did not inspire me to read, but to finish my novel in a hurry, while the general reading public has no taste. Maybe then my project would survive on the turbulent waters of publishing.

What else has fallen beside the wayside? Poetry. I love the 17th century British poets, Langston Hughes, Edna St. Vincent-Millay, and of course Lord Byron. Lately, nothing has moved me.

Any suggestions to stir me out of this apathy? Anything? I’m on the library website now…