Author: JH

Yesterday I watched Michelangelo Antonioni’s L’Eclisse. As my co-viewer nicely put it, an “intensely pointless, intense and pointless, pointlessly intense (and so on)” movie. Indeed, in a conversation with Mark Rothko, Antonioni once described his movies as empty but precise. So maybe my co-viewer wasn’t too far off. Great photography though, especially towards the end. Certainly precise, and more than that.

The spoken commentary by a film studies professor had us cringe––a reasonably healthy reaction I think to intellectual analysis of intellectual movies about non-intellectual things. Somehow, this kind of “art critic” always manages not to talk about the art but about himself, and drone on forever. Vittoria, the female protagonist, is “unconnected” to the world. The world is “changing.” La borsa is “scientific” (eh?). Vittoria is, in case you missed it, unconnected, and, when she makes a phone call, in the words of the professor this undoubtedly “does kind of represent an attempt to kind of reach out, to kind of establish a connection…” Oh well. Nothing about the photography, the framing, the architecture, the old versus new art in the movie, or indeed anything that the artist might find interesting. But a lot about unconnectedness.

Which reminds me of my other readings this summer. So far: “Anarchy, State, And Utopia” by Robert Nozick (smart and entertaining, however, not all anarchists are convinced), a couple of papers on scepticism (don’t ask), Somerset-Maugham’s “The Razor’s Edge” (a self-assigned service task of the publisher, for one of the aspiring novelists to your right), “The Shining” (I found the first 200 pages a surprisingly good psychological profile of the main characters; instead of reading the remaining 500 pages, I’d rather watch the movie though), “Tales Of Ordinary Madness” by you know who, and a couple of other books I already forgot.

The highlight of the summer, so far, are re-runs of Kojak. The “when men were real men”-awkwardness aside, I cannot get over the fact how ugly today’s cars are in comparison, and how many of them congest this great city.

Put all of this together, and you have the reason why, in my work, I focus on traffic cones.

Recently, I watched Stanley Kubrick’s “Eyes Wide Shut.” I guess there are two things you can take away from that movie. First, that apparently there comes a time in a man’s life, including the lives of very good filmmakers, when your thoughts more or less exclusively revolve around peeking at the naked female body one third your age and weight, from up close, from every angle––a great convenience of the life of the artist it seems, compared to other forms of human existence, especially at a late stage. Second, that Kubrick does some interesting things with mixing different light sources in his last work.

Perhaps I’ll save Kubrick’s late choice of subject for my senior years. Meanwhile, the play with different sources of available light seems to influence a little family project I’m doing on the side: A small book (in an edition of three) for the relatives back in Europea, so that they get an impression of the current housing situation, and know that the lost son and daughter are doing alright. I also have a selfish interest here: In case the continuous migration of the past two decades progresses (for the first time in my life I somehow hope it doesn’t, at least not for a while), I can always keep a document of my current surroundings.

Here is my strategy for the occasional Chelsea-visit, whether you go there as a collector, as an artist, or as a lover of art: Wherever you go, make sure to end on a strong note––your day will be that much better. While you won’t find any photography at Susan Sheehan (a grave yet, perhaps, understandable mistake…), her gallery on 22nd street is one of my favorite destinations for that purpose. It is actually one of my favorite destinations in the entire city.

Another inspiring place is Harlem’s Westside. These two from this past Sunday morning, while the neighborhood went to church, and everybody looked like a movie star. Please don’t mind the choice of subject matter: To me, these (from near 140th street) convey the spirit.