Claudia Moscovici is the author of “Velvet Totalitarianism,” a critically acclaimed novel about a Romanian family's survival in an oppressive communist regime due to the strength of their love. This novel was republished in translation in her native country, Romania, under the title "Intre Doua Lumi" (Curtea Veche Publishing, 2011). She also wrote two works about psychopathic seduction: a novel called “The Seducer,” which has deliberate echoes of the nineteenth-century classic “Anna Karenina” and a nonfiction book about psychopathic predators called “Dangerous Liaisons: How to Identify and Avoid Psychopathic Seduction.” In 2002, she co-founded with Mexican sculptor Leonardo Pereznieto the international aesthetic movement postromanticism.com, devoted to celebrating beauty, passion and sensuality in contemporary art. She published a book on Romanticism and its postromantic survival called “Romanticism and Postromanticism,” (Lexington Books, 2007) and taught philosophy, literature and arts and ideas at Boston University and at the University of Michigan. Born in Bucharest, Romania, she writes from her experience of life in a totalitarian regime, which marked her deeply. She immigrated to the United States where she has gone on to obtain a B.A. from Princeton University and a Ph.D. in Comparative Literature from Brown University. Claudia lives in Ann Arbor, with her husband Dan and two children, Sophie and Alex.
Denisa’s Shelf (Raftul Denisei): A Great Selection of World Fiction
by Claudia Moscovici
The number of books published each year worldwide is astronomical. The United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) cites that roughly 2,200,000books are published annually. Out of curiosity, I looked up the two countries I write about most which, not accidentally, are also those where I’ve lived: the U.S. and Romania. In 2010, 328,259 were published in the U.S. and in 2008 14, 984 books were published in Romania. Given this large number of books published in the U.S. alone, it’s difficult to believe how difficult and competitive the process of publishing can be (as I explain in an earlier article on the subject):
And yet publishing is only the beginning of the effort of rising to the surface in culture in an ocean of books. In fact, the UNESCO study probably doesn’t even count the number of self-published books via Amazon Kindle, Lulu and many other self-publishing options. Moreover, only a small fraction of these books have to do with what we’d loosely call “culture“: literature, art, philosophy, religion, film, etc. It is difficult to assess exactly how many, since the number is determined not only by their subject but also by the quality of their research and writing, which in turn are measured by highly debated standards. In fact, the difference between “high” culture and “pop” culture itself has been undermined long ago, by theorists such as Pierre Bourdieu and Jean-François Lyotard. We may never be able to assess the practical effect of these anti-hierarchy cultural theories. However, what has become crystal clear during the past 20 years is that the age of mass media itself mixes everything in cyberspace–the latest celebrity gossip, political events, the latest trend in dance with poetry and literature of all kinds, to list just a few things–in a hodgepodge and constant overflow of information. For those of us (artists, writers, critics, philosophers, film directors, etc) invested in making a difference in the loosely defined field of “culture,” it is quite difficult to swim–or even stay afloat–in this vast and rapidly changing current of information.
On the one hand, the mass media makes sharing our cultural products easier in some ways, by facilitating access to an audience. For instance, anyone can self-publish and promote a novel nowadays, through blogs, twitter, youtube and other popular venues on the internet. But this democratization of culture also makes it tougher to stand out from the (enormous and growing) crowd.Each cultural product–be it a novel, a collection of poems, a song, a film or a painting–competes with millions of others. It’s hard to find or discern anymore what we value and what we don’t, or what we find meaningful and what we find meaningless, in this tidal wave of information that assails us from all directions on a daily basis.To draw another analogy, it’s as if we heard talented classical musicians playing their instruments at the same time as others howl, scream, talk and yell in various languages. Or, if you prefer to avoid making any value judgments, as if we heard them playing at the same time as other talented musicians practice other songs. Either way you look at it, what reaches our ears will sound like a maddening cacophony, to the point that we can no longer discern the music we prefer from the surrounding noise we’d like to ignore. And yet, it is still worth trying to hear the music we enjoy, as I argue in my previous article on the importance of culture for our contemporary cultures:
In previous articles, I’ve discussed aspects of Romanian culture that I found the most worthwhile and talented, including the world-class fiction of Razvan Petrescu and Dumitru Radu Popa, as well as the George Enescu Festival in classical music. Today I’d like to present another influential and talented Romanian author and editor, Denisa Comanescu, whose selection of world fiction, called Denisa’s Shelf (Raftul Denisei), features some of the best literature from around the world in Romanian translation.
Denisa Comanescu
A talented poet herself, who published verses in the prestigious Romania Literara (1975) and other literary journals from a very young age, Denisa Comanescu obtained a poetry prize from Revista Luceafarul in 1978 (named after a famous poem by the greatest Romanian poet, Mihai Eminescu). She also won the Young Author’s Prize (Premiul de debut) from the Union of Writers in 1979 for the volume The Chase from Paradise (Izgonirea din Paradis, Editura Cartea Romaneasca, 1979). In 1999, she was awarded the Prize of the Book Salon as well as of the Poetry Festival of Oradea. In her audiobook, The Obsession of Biography (Obsesia biografiei, Humanitas Multimedia), which is a collection of 72 poems recited by the author herself, Denisa states:
“For me, poetry is a kind of fight against forgetfulness, an attempt to decipher the puzzle of existence, when my life is constantly invaded by the fiction of others. It’s very difficult to arrive at the calm during which I can question myself; to work profoundly on loss (to paraphrase a verse by Valery). One needs time to oneself during which one can create connections with the significance of daily life. Only rarely do I have that time to myself.” Denisa Comanescu
„Pentru mine, poezia e un fel de lupta impotriva uitarii, o incercare de a descifra puzzle-ul existentei, cand existenta mea e invadata mai tot timpul de fictiunea altora. Este foarte greu sa ajung la calmul prin care sa ma interoghez pe mine insami, sa lucrez in adanc asupra pierderii (ca sa parafrazez un vers din Valery). Ai nevoie de un timp al tau in care sa poti taia conexiunile cu ceea ce inseamna cotidianul. Mi se intampla rar sa acced la acest timp al meu. ” Denisa Comanescu
As much as she struggles to find the time–and peace and quiet–for her own creative work, Denisa Comanescu also has to find it for the work of others in her collection of world fiction, called Denisa’s Shelf (Raftul Denisei). This is not an easy process. In this collection, she must choose among the tens of millions of books published in the world, selecting those that have cultural value and endurance and that will, at the same time, please the public and generate book sales. The two goals don’t always coincide, since as everyone knows, the books that sell most aren’t necessarily masterpieces of world literature.
The page Denisa’s Shelf describes the balancing act required in presenting some of the the best works in world fiction in an accessible and appealing manner for the general public:
“Inaugurated in the spring of 2006, Denisa’s Shelf–the first personalized collection in Romania–demonstrates that accessibility and literary value can be and actually are compatible. On Denisa’s Shelf you can find works by consecrated authors, winners or nominees for prestigious literary awards (Nobel, Booker, Pulitzer, Goncourt, Orange, Cervantes, etc.) alongside exceptional beginners. There’s a great emphasis placed upon the fiction of young authors who have already made a name for themselves in international fiction: in other words, tomorrow’s classics. In this manner, on Denisa’s Shelf Yasunari Kawabata meets Jonathan Sfran Foer, John Updike meets Jeanette Winterson, Anais Nin encounters Mo Yan, Naghib Mahfuz meets with Tash Aw, Gregor von Rezzori with James Frey, in a double public and critical success.”
“Inaugurată în primăvara anului 2006, Raftul Denisei – prima colecţie personalizată din România – demonstrează că accesibilitatea şi valoarea literară pot fi şi chiar sunt compatibile. Pe Raftul Denisei găsiţi operele unor scriitori consacraţi, laureaţi sau nominalizaţi ai unor prestigioase premii literare internaţionale (Nobel, Booker, Pulitzer, Goncourt, Orange, Cervantes etc.), alături de cele ale unor debutanţi de excepţie. O pondere importantă in selecţia titlurilor o ocupă ficţiunile scriitorilor tineri impuşi deja pe pieţele de carte din lume – de fapt, clasicii de mâine. Astfel, pe „Raftul Denisei“, Yasunari Kawabata se întâlneşte cu Jonathan Safran Foer, John Updike cu Jeanette Winterson, Anais Nin cu Mo Yan, Naghib Mahfuz cu Tash Aw, Gregor von Rezzori cu James Frey, într-un dublu standard al succesului de public şi de critică.”
Combining canonized works with rising stars in world literature, to return to my earlier analogy, Denisa’s Shelf (see link below), offers readers a quiet and peaceful cultural space where they can enjoy a great selection of literary classics.
The George Enescu Festival: Hitting A High Note in Romanian Culture
by Claudia Moscovici
The George Enescu Festival in Bucharest is not only a highlight in Romanian culture, but also one of the most exciting and biggest classical music festivals in Europe. Named after the prestigious Romanian composer and violinist George Enescu (1881-1955), who is best known for his Romanian Rhapsodies, the festival focuses on Enescu’s work and offers the best in classical music, internationally.
Every two years, for several weeks during the month of September, Bucharest becomes the classical music capital of Europe. George Enescu and his friend and collaborator George Georgescu organized the first festival in 1958. Although the festival was banned for a period of time during Ceausescu’s dictatorship, it has been reestablished and grown since the Romanian revolution of 1989. It is organized by its Artistic Director Ioan Holender, Artexim, ArClub–The Center for Cultural Projects of the Municipality of Bucharest and the Foundation Art Production.
In 2013, the festival will take place between September 1st and 28th, featuring concerts of classical and contemporary music as well as opera and ballet. The festival’s motto, “Magic exists” (“Magia Exista”), emphasizes the beauty of classical music; its capacity to mesmerize all generations across cultural boundaries; its unifying force regardless of our political and ideological differences; its endurance throughout centuries, in a magic that still captivates us. Few products of the human mind, talent and creation have such a lasting power and positive effect on our cultures and psyches.
This year the festival will reach an even wider public through its publicity campaign on the American channel CNN (see ad below) that will air on May 19th, as well as the broadcast of some of its concerts live in cinemas across Romania, in cooperation with Grand Cinema Digiplex.
For more information about the highlights of the festival this year, please find below the George Enescu Festival program, found on their website,
Sala Mare a Palatului
Dirijor : DANIEL BARENBOIM
Solist : RADU LUPU – pian
Program : G. Enescu – Rapsodia română nr. 2 în Re Major op. 11 L. van Beethoven – Concertul nr. 4 pentru pian şi orchestra în Sol Major op. 58 Sir E. Elgar – Simfonia nr. 2 în Mi bemol Major op. 63
FILARMONICA “BANATUL” DIN TIMIŞOARA
Dirijor : MARTIN YATES
Solist : MATEI VARGA – pian
Program : Tiberiu Olah – Armonii IV, Omagiu lui Enescu, concert pentru 23 de instrumente Michael Hersch – Concert pentru pian şi orchestră (primă audiţie europeană) T. Huillet – “Ombres – tribute to Debussy” Rolf Martinsson – Concert pentru orchestră, op. 81
Program : George Balint – Muzică pentru Archaeus
Michael Denhoff – Strophen op. 107 (nr. 1, Geträumtes – für Martella)
Ştefan Niculescu – Triplum II
Michael Denhoff – Strophen op. 107 (nr. 11B, Geläut für Günter Bialas)
Dan Buciu – Schițe pentru un autoportret
Michael Denhoff – Strophen op. 107 (nr. 43A-a, Trostgesang für Heidemarie Merkl-Baroski)
Horia Surianu – Reverie Byzantine en Canon
Michael Denhoff – Strophen op. 107 (49A – Saltarello)
Javier Darias – Ucanca
Aurel Stroe – Humoreske mit zwei durchblicken zum leeren
Program : W.M. Mozart – Concertul pentru două piane în Mi bemol Major K365
Solişti :
DANIEL BARENBOIM RADU LUPU
G. Verdi – “Quattro pezzi sacri” (Ave Maria; Stabat Mater; Laudi alla Vergine Maria; Te Deum)
Cu participarea CORULUI FILARMONICII “GEORGE ENESCU”
Dirijorul Corului : ION IOSIF PRUNNER
Ateneul Român
Dirijor : MARTIN YATES
Solist : MATEI VARGA – pian
Program : Tiberiu Olah – Armonii IV, Omagiu lui Enescu, concert pentru 23 de instrumente Michael Hersch – Concert pentru pian şi orchestră (primă audiţie europeană) T. Huillet – “Ombres – tribute to Debussy” Rolf Martinsson – Concert pentru orchestră, op. 81
Program : G. Enescu – Suita nr. 3 pentru orchestră op. 27 ”Săteasca” E. Chausson – Poemul pentru vioară şi orchestră op. 25 C. Saint-Saëns – Introducere şi Rondo Capriccioso op. 28 S. Rahmaninov – Simfonia nr. 1 în re minor op. 13
FILARMONICA DE STAT “TRANSILVANIA” CLUJ
Dirijor : JÖRG WIDMANN
Program : Ulpiu Vlad – Simfonia I “Lumina drumurilor” J. Widmann – Concertul pentru trompetă şi orchestră mică în Si bemol Major “Ad absurdum” (dedicată lui Sergei Nakariakov)
Solist : SERGEI NAKARIAKOV – trompetă J. Widmann – Misa, pentru orchestră mare
Solişti : TEODORO ANZELLOTTI – acordeon cu claviatură WILHELM BRUCK – chitară
Program : H. Berlioz – Uvertura la “Le Corsaire” H 101 B. Britten – Concertul pentru vioară şi orchestră în re minor op. 15
Solistă : VILDE FRANG – vioară
C. Saint-Saëns – Simfonia nr. 3 cu orgă în do minor op. 78
Solist : THIERRY ESCAICH – orgă
Program : Adrian Pop – Opt bagatele pentru cvartet de coarde Ulpiu Vlad – Pe acest pământ însorit II Martin Torp – Cantico delle creature Dan Variu – Cvartet de coarde (primă audiţie) Sabin Păutza – Cvartetul de coarde nr. 4 “Ludus Modalis”
Ateneul Român
Dirijor : JÖRG WIDMANN
Program : Ulpiu Vlad – Simfonia I “Lumina drumurilor” J. Widmann – Concertul pentru trompetă şi orchestră mică în Si bemol Major “Ad absurdum” (dedicată lui Sergei Nakariakov)
Solist : SERGEI NAKARIAKOV – trompetă J. Widmann – Misa, pentru orchestră mare
Solişti : TEODORO ANZELLOTTI – acordeon cu claviatură WILHELM BRUCK – chitară
Program : A. Vivaldi – Simfonia pentru orchestră de coarde şi b.c. în Sol Major “Il Coro delle Muse” RV149 A. Vivaldi – Concertul pentru vioară, orchestră de coarde şi b.c. în la minor RV357 A. Vivaldi – Concertul pentru vioară, orchestră de coarde şi b.c. în mi minor RV279 A. Vivaldi – Concertul pentru vioară, orchestră de coarde şi b.c. în Si bemol Major RV383a A. Vivaldi – Uvertura la opera “Ercole su’l Termodonte” RV710 A. Vivaldi – Concertul pentru vioară, orchestră de coarde şi b.c. în Fa Major RV284 A. Vivaldi – Concertul pentru vioară, orchestră de coarde şi b.c. în Re Major RV204 A. Vivaldi – Concertul pentru vioară, orchestră de coarde şi b.c. în Fa Major RV291
Program: Gioacchino Rossini: Uvertura operei „La Cenerentola” („Cenuşăreasa”) Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Simfonia concertantă în Mi bemol major pentru vioară, violă şi orchestră, K. 364 Antonín Dvořák: Simfonia a VIII-a în Sol major, op. 88
Program : R. Fuchs – Cvartetul cu pian nr. 2 în si minor op. 75 G. Enescu – Cvartetul cu pian nr. 2 în re minor op. 30 G. Fauré – Cvartetul cu pian nr. 2 în sol minor op. 45
Program : Gabriel Iranyi – Cvartet de coarde nr. 4 (2012) “…Innenräume, Verwebungen…” Peter Ruzicka – Cvartetul de coarde cu soprană solo nr. 6 “Erinnerung und vergessen” (2008)
Solistă : SARAH MARIA SUN – soprană Wolfgang Rihm – Patru studii pentru cvartet cu clarinet (2003)
Solist : JÖRG WIDMANN – clarinet
Solist : Pierre-Yves Artaud – flaut
Program : Tiberiu Olah – “Invocaţii” pentru 5 executanţi Ede Terényi – “Traiectorie albă” pentru ansamblu Laura Ana Mânzat – “Rondo neconvenţional” pentru ansamblu (p.a.a.) Anatol Vieru – “Feuerwerk” pentru flaut, vibrafon şi vioară Elena Apostol – “Fairytale” pentru ansamblu Sorin Lerescu – “Proportions II” pentru flaut şi ansamblu instrumental
Program :
Adrian Enescu – Audio Games
Viorel Munteanu – lucrare în primă audiție
Mihai Măniceanu – lucrare în primă audiție
Adrian Iorgulescu – lucrare în primă audiție
Octavian Nemescu – lucrare în primă audiţie
Tristan Murail – L’Esprit des dunes
Program :
D. Dediu – Frenesia pentru orchestră op. 84 (2000)
J. Brahms – Dublul concert pentru vioară, violoncel şi orchestră în la minor op. 102
Solişti : PINCHAS ZUKERMAN – vioară
AMANDA FORSYTH – violoncel
M. Ravel – Rapsodie espagnole
M. Ravel – Pavane pour une infante défunte
M. Ravel – Alborada del Gracioso
M. Ravel – Bolero
Program : “THE INFERNAL COMEDY” – O crimă melodramatică
Scenariul şi regia : Michael Sturminger
Muzica : A. Vivaldi, J. Haydn, W.A. Mozart, L. van Beethoven etc.
Narator : JOHN MALKOVICH
Solişti : LAURA AIKIN – soprană BERNARDA BOBRO – soprană ALEKSANDRA ZAMOJSKA – soprană
Sala Mare a Palatului
Dirijor : Juraj Valčuha
Solistă : ANNA TIFU – laureată a Concursului Internaţional “George Enescu” – ediţia 2007
Program : G. Enescu – Suita nr. 1 în Do Major op. 9
Philip Glass – Concertul nr. 1 pentru vioară şi orchestră (1987)
I. Stravinski – Suita pentru orchestră “Ritualul primăverii”
Program : W.A. Mozart – Sonata pentru vioară şi pian în Sol Major K 301 R. Schumann – Adagio şi Allegro pentru violoncel şi pian în La bemol Major op. 70 Z. Kodály – Duo pentru vioară şi violoncel op. 7 F. Mendelssohn – Trio pentru pian în re minor op. 49
Program : O. Respighi – Poemul simfonic “Fontane di Roma” Cl. Debussy – “Marea”, trei schiţe simfonice pentru orchestră M. Ravel – “Daphnis şi Chloe” – fragmente din baletul in trei părţi imaginat de M. Fokin
Ateneul Român
Dirijor şi solist : RUDOLF BUCHBINDER
Program : L. van Beethoven – Concertul nr. 1 pentru pian şi orchestră în Do Major op. 15 L. van Beethoven – Concertul nr. 2 pentru pian şi orchestră în Si bemol Major op. 19 L. van Beethoven – Concertul nr. 3 pentru pian şi orchestră în do minor op. 37
Program : M. Ravel – “Une barque sur l’océan” (partea a 3-a din suita “Miroirs”) op. 43a G. Enescu – Poemul simfonic “Vox Maris” op. 31
Solist : MARIUS VLAD BUDOIU – tenor A. Dvořák – Simfonia nr. 9 în mi minor op. 95 “Din lumea nouă”
Ateneul Român
Dirijor şi solist : RUDOLF BUCHBINDER
Program : L. van Beethoven – Concertul nr. 4 pentru pian şi orchestră în Sol Major op. 58 L. van Beethoven – Concertul nr. 5 pentru pian şi orchestră în Mi bemol Major op. 73 ”Imperialul”
ORCHESTRA FILARMONICII “BANATUL” TIMIŞOARA
Dirijor : GHEORGHE COSTIN
Solişti : MANUELA IANA-MIHĂILESCU şi DRAGOŞ MIHĂILESCU
Program: G. Enescu – Suita a II-a în Do Major op. 20 Fr. Poulenc – Concertul în re minor pentru două piane şi orchestră FP 61 B. Bartók – Suita “Mandarinul miraculos” op. 19
Ateneul Român
Dirijor : ENRIQUE MAZZOLA
Solist : CLAIRE-MARIE LE GUAY – pian
Program : J. Ibert – Bacchanale A. Honegger – Concertino pentru pian şi orchestră H 55 M. Ravel – Concertul pentru mâna stângă în Re Major op. 82 D. Milhaud – Le Bœuf sur le toit op. 58 M. Ravel – Suita nr. 2 pentru orchestră op. 57b “Daphnis et Chloé”
Sala Mare a Palatului
Dirijor : VLADIMIR JUROWSKI
Solist : ANIKA VAVIC – pian
Program : N. Rimski-Korsakov – Uvertura Marele Paşte rusesc op. 36 S. Prokofiev – Concertul pentru pian şi orchestră nr. 3 în Do Major op. 26 A. Bruckner – Simfonia nr. 1 în do minor WAB 101
Ateneul Român
Dirijor şi solist : CHRISTIAN ZACHARIAS
Program : W.A. Mozart – Simfonia concertantă pentru vioară, violă şi orchestră în Mi bemol Major K 364 W.A. Mozart – Simfonia nr. 40 în sol minor K 550
Program : A. Webern – Fuga (Ricercata) la 6 voci (după J.S. Bach – Ofranda Muzicală BWV 1079/5) B. Bartók – Concertul nr. 2 pentru vioară şi orchestră SZ112, BB 117 G. Enescu – Simfonia nr. 2 în La Major op. 17
Ateneul Român
Solist şi dirijor : CHRISTIAN ZACHARIAS
Program : W.A. Mozart – Serenada nr. 9 în Re Major K 320 “Posthorn” (primele patru părţi) W.A. Mozart – Concertul nr. 23 pentru pian şi orchestră în La Major K 488 W.A. Mozart – Fantezia nr. 3 pentru pian în re minor K 397 W.A. Mozart – Rondo pentru pian în Re Major K 485 W.A. Mozart – Serenada nr. 9 în Re Major K 320 “Posthorn” (primele trei părţi)
Sala “Mihail Jora” a Societăţii Române de Radiodifuziune
Dirijor : Ilan VOLKOV
Program :
Maya Dunietz – crea.
Liviu Ralea – « Periastron » pentru ansamblu şi sunete asistate de computer ( p.a.a.)
Horaţiu Rădulescu – Small Infinities Togetherness (1983) pentru global sources şi ansamblu (p.a.r.) – versiune scrisă şi dedicată Ansamblului Hyperion
Costin Cazaban – Calam pentru ansamblu şi sunete asistate de computer (p.a.r.)
Ilan Volkov/ Iancu Dumitrescu/ Andrei Kivu / Maya Dunietz/ Eran Sachs/ Yoni Silver / Haggai Fershtman/ Adam Sheflan – Intuitive Music – « pianissimo new project
Ana-Maria Avram – Spacetime-simetry (p.a.a.)
Iancu Dumitrescu – Early, before all times (II) (p.a.a.)
Ilan Volkov/ Iancu Dumitrescu/ Andrei Kivu / Maya Dunietz/ Eran Sachs/ Yoni Silver / Haggai Fershtman/ Adam Sheflan/ – Intuitive Music 10 – Fortissimo New Project
Sala “Mihail Jora” a Societăţii Române de Radiodifuziune
NUOVA MUSICA CONSONANTE-LIVING MUSIC FOUDATION (USA), VOX NOVUS (USA), CENTER OF COMPUTER RESEARCH IN MUSIC AND ACOUSTICS, STANFORD UNIVERSITY (USA), EUROPEAN CONFERENCE OF PROMOTERS OF NEW MUSIC (ECPNM)
Interpretează :
GEORGETA STOLERIU – soprană
VLAD DIMULESCU – pian
CORINA BOLOLOI – vioară
FAUSTA DIMULESCU – pian
ŞERBAN NICHIFOR – violoncel
DANIEL MIHAI - violonist
Program :
“Pioneers Songs” de Ned Hill, interpretata cu concursul autorului, un prestigios reprezentant al Culturii Americane.
“REZONANŢE ENESCIENE”
G. Enescu – Sonata nr. 1 pentru pian în fa diez minor op. 24
C-tin Silvestri – Piesă de concert nr. 3 pentru pian op. 25
R. Voisey – “Lament and Sorrow” pentru violoncel şi mediu electroacustic (p.a.)
V. Petculescu – “Reverberaţii” pentru violoncel solo
D. DaSilva – “Stabat” pentru violoncel solo (p.a.)
C. Chafe (USA) – “Free Motion” pentru violoncel şi mediu electroacustic
P. Constantinescu – “Cântec de adormit Mitzura”, lied pe versuri de Tudor Arghezi
S. McClellan (USA)– “Acolo”, lied pe versuri de Iulia Deleanu (p.a.)
M. Jora – “Ghicitoarea”, lied pe versuri de Tudor Arghezi
G. Enescu – “Eu ma duc, codrul ramane”, lied pe versuri populare
M. Marbe – “Ecoul unui omagiu” pentru vioară şi pian
G. Enescu – Balada pentru vioară şi pian
L. Alexandra – “Quasi Cadenza” pentru vioară solo
V. Cosma – “Concerto de Berlin” pentru vioară şi pian (p.a.)
M. Ciobanu – “Jurnal 99” pentru vioară şi mediu electroacustic
Ateneul Român
Dirijor : OTOMO NAOTO
Program : A. Jolivet – Concertul pentru flaut şi orchestră de coarde (1950)
Solist : IONUŢ BOGDAN ŞTEFĂNESCU – flaut Yasushi Akutagawa – Triptic pentru orchestră de coarde G. Enescu – Octuor în Do Major op. 7
“DEATH AND RESURRECTION” – între Baroc şi Clasicism
Un proiect al Fundației Royaumont (Franța) şi al Colegiului Ghislieri (Italia)
Dirijor : GIULIO PRANDI
Solişti : ROBERTA INVERNIZZI – soprană SALVO VITALE – bas
Program : W.A. Mozart – Regina Coeli în Do Major KV 108 (1771) D. Perez – Mattutino de’ morti (1774)
Program:
Hieronimus Tragoudistis din Cipru – Canonul cel Mare (Cântarea a noua) sec. XVI
Guillaume de Machault – Kyrie – La Messe de Notre Dame (1364)
Moment bizantin 1
Josquin des Prez – Gloria – Missa Pange lingua (cca. 1514)
Moment bizantin 2
Giovani Pierluigi da Palestrina – Credo – Missa Papae Marcelli (1567)
Moment bizantin 3
William Byrd – Sanctus – Missa a quatro voci (1592-1593)
Hans Leo Hassler (1564-1612) – Benedictus – Missa Dixit Maria
Moment bizantin 4
Tomas Luis de Victoria (1548-1611) – Agnus Dei – Missa “O magnum misterium” (1572)
Moment bizantin 5
Dan Dediu – Exultate – lucrare în stil neogregorian/bizantin (p.a.)
Ateneul Român
Dirijor : JAMES GAFFIGAN
Solist : FAZIL SAY – pian
Program : G. Enescu – Issis (orchestraţie de Pascal Bentoiu – după schițele compozitorului)
Cu participarea Corului de cameră “PRELUDIU” al Centrului Naţional de Artă “Tinerimea Română”
Dirijor : VOICU ENĂCHESCUW.A. Mozart – Concertul nr. 21 pentru pian şi orchestră în Do Major K.467 J. Haydn – Simfonia nr. 104 în Re Major H.1/104 “Londra”
Sala Mare a Palatului
Dirijor : SEMYON BYCHKOV
Solist : KATIA şi MARIELLE LABÈQUE – pian
Program : M. Ravel – Suita pentru pian “Le Tombeau de Couperin” (1918) F. Poulenc – Concertul pentru două piane în re minor FP 61 C. Franck – Simfonia în re minor
Regia şi coregrafia : Cláudia Martins and Rafael Carriço
Scenografia, videografia şi sonoplastia : Rafael Carriço
Costume : Cláudia Martins
Regia tehnică : Nuno Martins
Designer de lumini şi efecte audio-visuale : Luis Paz
Muzica : Phillip Glass, Maurice Fulton, Kronos Quartet, Daft Punk,
Nino Rota, Eric Satie, Oswaldo Ferrés, Camille Saint-Saëns, Arvo Pärt,
Billie Holiday, Claude Debussy, Charlie Chaplin
Solişti : Cláudia Martins, Rafael Carriço, Maria Diogo, Rafaela Reis,
Joana Puntel, Fábio Simões, Renata Vieira, Anna Kurlikova, Rita Pereira,
Luz Bacellar, Angela Bacellar
Concept artistic al proiectului : Jordi Savall & Montserrat Figueras
Dramaturgia şi surse istorice : Josep Piera & Manuel Forcano
Colaboratori : Josep Piera, Joan F. Mira, Vicent Ros
HESPERION XXI
LA CAPELLA REIAL DE CATALUNYA
Dirijor : JORDI SAVALL
Program : La Dinastia Borgia
Concept artistic al proiectului : Jordi Savall & Montserrat Figueras
Dramaturgia şi surse istorice : Josep Piera & Manuel Forcano
Colaboratori : Josep Piera, Joan F. Mira, Vicent Ros
Recital : LAURENT ALBRECHT BREUNINGER – vioară THOMAS DUIS – pian
Program : Cl. Debussy – Sonata pentru vioară şi pian în sol minor L 140 L. Vierne – Sonata pentru vioară şi pian în sol minor op. 23 G. Enescu – Sonata nr. 3 pentru vioară şi pian în la minor “în caracter popular românesc” op. 25 M. Ravel – Rapsodia pentru vioară şi pian op. 76 “Tzigane”
Recital JEAN-CLAUDE PENNETIER - pian
Ateneul Român
Program : G. Fauré – Nocturna nr. 12 în mi minor op. 107 G. Fauré – Barcarola nr. 11 în sol minor op. 105 F. Busoni – Sonatina nr. 2 BV 259 G. Enescu – Sonata nr. 1 pentru pian în fa diez minor op. 24,1 Cl. Debussy – La cathédrale engloutie G. Enescu – Suita nr. 3 pentru pian op. 18 “Carillon nocturne” Cl. Debussy – 12 studii pentru pian (Caietul 2)
(7. Pour les degrés chromatiques; 8. Pour les agreements; 9. Pour les notes répétées; 10. Pour les arpèges composes; 11. Pour les sonorités opposées; 12. Pour les accords)
Ateneul Român
Dirijor : Sir NEVILLE MARRINER
Solist : BORIS BROVTSYN – vioară
Program : F. Mendelssohn – Uvertura “Ruy Blas” F. Mendelssohn – Concertul pentru vioară şi orchestră în mi minor op. 64 F. Mendelssohn – Visul unei nopți de vară (integral)
Sala Mare a Palatului
Dirijor : MARISS JANSONS
Solist : LISA BATIASHVILI – vioară
Program : G. Enescu – Rapsodia nr. 1 în La Major op. 11,1 S. Prokofiev – Concertul nr. 1 pentru vioară şi orchestră în Re Major op. 19 S. Prokofiev – 3 selecţiuni din Suita “Romeo & Julieta” I. Stravinsky – Suita “Pasărea de foc” (1919)
Distribuţia :
Siegfried – STEFAN VINKE
Gunther – VALENTIN VASILIU
Alberich – ŞTEFAN IGNAT
Hagen – ERIC HALFVARSON
Brünnhilde – PETRA LANG
Gutrune – ALEXANDRA REINPRECHT
Waltraute – ELISABETH KULMAN
Norn 2 – ELISABETH KULMAN
“VIRTUOZII” din BUCUREŞTI
Dirijor : MAXIM VENGEROV
Program : J.S. Bach – Concertul pentru două viori şi orchestră în re minor BWV 1043
Solişti : MAXIM VENGEROV – vioară VLAD STĂNCULEASA – vioară W.A. Mozart – Concertul nr. 5 pentru vioară şi orchestră în La Major K 219 “Turkish”
Solist : MAXIM VENGEROV – vioară W.A. Mozart – Simfonia nr. 40 în sol minor K 550
Fr. Schubert – Sonata nr. 17 în Re Major D 850 op. 53
Al. Scriabin – Sonata nr. 2 în sol diez minor op. 19
Al. Scriabin – Studii op. 8, nr. 2 în fa diez minor, nr. 4 în Si Major, nr. 5 în Mi Major, nr. 8 în La bemol Major, nr. 9 în sol diez minor, nr. 11 în Si bemol minor, nr. 12 în re diez minor
Sala Mare a Palatului
Dirijor : SAKARI ORAMO
Solist : STEPHEN HOUGH – pian
Program : A. Hillborg – Exquisite Corpse J. Brahms – Concertul nr. 1 pentru pian şi orchestră în re minor op. 15 C. Nielsen – Simfonia nr. 2 op. 16 (FS 29) “The Four Temperaments”
Program : J.S. Bach – Concertul pentru două viori şi orchestră în re minor BWV 1043
Solişti : MAXIM VENGEROV – vioară VLAD STĂNCULEASA – vioară W.A. Mozart – Concertul nr. 3 pentru vioară şi orchestră în Sol Major K 216 W.A. Mozart – Concertul nr. 5 pentru vioară şi orchestră în La Major K 219 “Turkish” W.A. Mozart – Simfonia nr. 41 în Do Major K 551 “Jupiter”
Spectacol de teatru coregrafic prezentat în cadrul “Întâlnirilor JTI”
Teatrul Bulandra – Sala “Liviu Ciulei”
Cu participarea extraordinară a actorilor Victor Rebengiuc, Coca Bloos
Decor, Costume, Imagine – Octavian Neculai
Muzica – Paul Ilea
Designer de lumini – Alexandru Darie
Asistent Coregraf – Lelia Marcu Vladu
Asistent Décor – Vladimir Iuganu
Asistent Costume – Sorina Iuganu
Actori : Cornel Scripcaru, Adrian Ciobanu, Ioana Macaria, Marius Chivu, Camelia Maxim, Daniela Nane, Anca Androne, Rodica Lazar, Antoaneta Cojocaru, Ioana Anton
DansActori : Ramona Barbulescu, Rasmina CalbAjos, Ioana Macarie, Diana Spiridon, Ioana Marchidan, Vanda Ştefănescu, Arcadie Rusu, Cristian Nanculescu, Adrian Nou, IstvAn TegLAs Alexandru Calin, Lari Giorgescu, Ştefan Lupu
Spectacol prezentat în cadrul Programului “Bulandra per Musica” şi produs de Teatrul Bulandra şiFundaţia Art Production
Sala Mare a Palatului
Dirijor : SAKARI ORAMO
Solist : JULIAN RACHLIN – vioară
Program : G. Enescu – Suita nr. 2 pentru orchestră în Do Major op. 20 I. Stravinski – Concertul pentru vioară şi orchestră în Re Major J. Sibelius – Simfonia nr. 1 în mi minor op. 39
Ateneul Român
Dirijor : LOUIS LANGRÉE
Solist : HILARY HAHN – vioară
Program : G. Enescu – Intermezzi op. 12 W.A. Mozart – Concertul nr. 3 pentru vioară şi orchestră în Sol Major K 216 Vaughan Williams – The Lark Ascending (1920) W.A. Mozart – Simfonia nr. 41 în Do Major K 551 “Jupiter”
Sala Mare a Palatului
Dirijor : MIHAIL PLETNEV
Solist : VADIM REPIN – vioară
Program : S. Prokofiev – Concertul nr. 2 pentru vioară şi orchestră în sol minor op. 63 P.I. Ceiakovski – Vals-Scherzo în Do Major op. 34 A. Glazunov – Anotimpurile op. 67
Program : Fr. Schubert – 4 improptus: op. 142 nr. 1 în fa minor, op. 142 nr. 3 în Si bemol Major, op. 90 nr. 3 în Sol bemol Major, op. 90 nr. 4 în La bemol Major Fr. Schubert – Trio în Mi bemol Major op. 100
Sala Mare a Palatului CORUL FILARMONICII “GEORGE ENESCU”
Dirijor : HORIA ANDREESCU
Dirijorul corului : ION IOSIF PRUNNER
Program : Fr. Liszt – Concertul nr. 1 pentru pian şi orchestră în Mi bemol Major S.124
Solist : BORIS BEREZOVSKY – pian G. Mahler – Simfonia nr. 2 “Resurrection Symphony”
Solişti : ANITA HARTIG – soprană BERNARDA FINK – mezzo-soprană
Ateneul Român
Dirijor : MARIN CAZACU
Solişti : MARIN CAZACU – violoncel SIMINA IVAN – soprană
T. Albinoni – Adagio S. Mercadante – Parola prima din Oratoriul “Ultimele şapte cuvinte” pentru soprană şi orchestră de violoncele H. Lobos – Bachianas Brasileiras nr. 1 pentru violoncele H. Lobos – Bachianas Brasileiras nr. 5 pentru soprană şi violoncele J. Schrammel – Marş A. Dvořák – Doloroso C-tin Dimitrescu – Dans ţărănesc J. Offenbach – Barcarola J. Offenbach – Can Can A. Piazzolla – Oblivion A.Viloldo – Tango “El Choclo” A. Piazzolla – Libertango Mozart / Mifune – Alla Turca Jazz
Sala Mare a Palatului
Dirijor : ANDREW LITTON
Solist : ALEXANDRA DARIESCU – pian
Program :
J. Brahms – Uvertura Academică în do minor op. 80 E. Grieg – Concertul pentru pian şi orchestră în la minor op. 16 P.I. Ceaikovski – Simfonia nr. 6 în si minor op. 74 “Patetica”
Program : J.S. Bach – Concertul pentru vioară şi orchestră în la minor BWV 1041 J.S. Bach – Concertul pentru vioară, clavecin şi orchestră (transcripţie BWV 1060) J.S. Bach – Concertul pentru vioară şi orchestră în Re Major (transcripţie BWV 1053) J.S. Bach – Concertul pentru vioară şi orchestră în Mi Major BWV 1042
Program : Frank Bridge – Fantezie pentru cvartet cu pian în fa diez minor H. 94 G. Fauré – Cvartetul cu pian nr. 1 în do minor op. 15 G. Enescu – Cvartetul cu pian nr. 1 în Re Major op. 16 (1909)
Program :
J. S. Bach – Suita franceză nr. 4 în Mi bemol Major BWV 815
L. van Beethoven – Sonata nr. 23 în fa minor op. 57 “Appasionata”
R. Schumann – Faschingsschwank aus Wien op. 26
F. Chopin – TBA
F. Chopin – Scherzo nr. 2 în Si bemol Major op. 31
Sala Mare a Palatului CORUL ACADEMIC RADIO
CORUL DE COPII RADIO
Dirijor : CRISTIAN MANDEAL
Dirijorul Corului : DAN MIHAI GOIA
Dirijorul corului de copii : VOICU POPESCU
Program : G. Enescu – Capriccio pentru vioară şi orchestră (orchestraţie de Cornel Ţăranu după schiţele compozitorului)
Solist : DMITRY SITKOVETSKY – vioară G. Mahler – Simfonia nr. 3
Solist : JENNIFER JOHNSTON – mezzo-soprană
1. Tell us a little bit about when and under what circumstances you left Romania.
1. I left Romania in 1981, at the age of 11. I haven’t returned until 2011, for the launch of my first novel Velvet Totalitarianism in Romanian translation, Intre Doua Lumi (Editura Curtea Veche). My father defected from the country two years before my mother and I legally immigrated to the U.S. He was a world-class mathematician and his boss was Zoia Ceausescu. She had let it be known that he wouldn’t be able to travel abroad to mathematical conferences anymore (because Nicolae Ceausescu was tightening the Iron Curtain). So he decided to take his chances, as several mathematicians had before him, and defect to the U.S. in the hopes that we would rejoin him soon. I filter aspects of our struggles to unite our family in my first novel, Intre Doua Lumi, as well as describing aspects of the adaptation to the U.S. (even though I fictionalize everything, of course, since I wrote a novel not a memoir).
2. What was your reaction when you returned to Romania, so many years later?
2. When I returned to Romania for my book launch decades later, in 2011, I was shocked and impressed to see how much the country has changed in its physical aspects, in its modernization, and in the standard of living. Of course, I only caught a privileged glimpse of Bucharest, from the perspective of an author on a book tour. So I didn’t get an inside glimpse, nor a global view of the country. It was a very brief and limited, but also very positive experience.
3. Tell us about your professional life and impression of the American academia.
3. In the academia, I taught in several departments–philosophy, art and comparative literature–since I love all of these fields. I tried to focus on the aspects of the profession that emphasize love of art, love of literature, and clarity of expression. I also found myself swimming against the currents of poststructuralism and deconstruction, at their peak in the U.S. when I was in grad. school, which I didn’t like for several reasons: 1. the writing was not clear and accessible to those who might want to understand it. 2. there was too much emphasis on the very technical “theories” and too little attention paid to the literature or art. 3. the whole field of cultural production became politicized–and I’m speaking of cultural politics–in “culture wars” that Harold Bloom and others address. Personally, I subscribe to Albert Einstein‘s wise saying: “If you can’t explain something clearly, then you don’t understand it well enough.” All in all, I’m glad to have had a solid formation in several branches of the arts and humanities in the American academia and even more glad to have left it behind and be able to write what I want, as I see fit.
4. What would you advise Romanians who might be interested in moving to the U.S.?
4. I’d advise any Romanian who is thinking about immigrating to the U.S. to visit the country for a considerable period first and find out about professional opportunities and day to day life. Just as it was easy for me to idealize Romania when I was a tourist there in 2011, it’s easy for anyone visiting the U.S. as a tourist to do the same. You never know how you’ll feel in a country until you actually live there, and find a place to work and a place to live. There are some professions, like medicine, where the degrees from one country don’t automatically get accepted in another. Many doctors from Romania have had to start from square one (medical school) or do something else related to medicine. It’s always more prudent to know exactly what you’re getting into before you make any drastic move.
5. Do you wish to visit Romania again?
5. Yes, I hope to return to Romania for the book launches of my art criticism book, Romanticism and Postromanticism, translated by the writer Dumitru Radu Popa, and for the launch of my second novel, The Seducer, which hasn’t been translated yet. During this period I hope to get to see more of the country outside of Bucharest, such as Drobeta Turnu Severin and Timisoara, where some of my family lives.
6. Is your first novel, Velvet Totalitarianism, autobiographical? If so, in what ways?
6. Velvet Totalitarianism, translated into Romanian by Mihnea Gafita under the title of Intre Doua Lumi, does incorporate some of our family’s struggles with the Romanian Securitate and the challenges of immigrating to the U.S. However, I fictionalized the entire plot, included a fictional spy thriller element (the Radu/Ioana plot line) and changed everything structurally to make the story work as a novel. Reality was only a point of departure (and research). But the novel is, after all, fiction.
7. You write books in several different domains. What leads you to do so?
7. Since I was young, I loved several fields: art, literature and philosophy. The arts are, in fact, conceptually very closely related. They’re separated only by institutions and how they’re taught. But it’s natural to look at them, and appreciate them, together, which is exactly what I do. I write about the art I appreciate, internationally, on my art blog http://fineartebooks.wordpress.com. In 2002, I founded an international art movement, called postromanticism, devoted to celebrating verisimilitude, sensuality, and beauty in art. It was intended as an alternative, not a replacement, to more abstract traditions in art. I believe in pluralism, not dogmatism, in the art world, particularly since matters of taste and definitions of art are more or less subjective. I also spend part of each week working on my new novel, Fractals of a Murder. This will be my first murder mystery, but it’s not going to be genre fiction. I still prioritize strong and realistic characterizations. Finally, I write literary reviews from time to time about books I really like. I love writing about three fields rather than just one, or just a narrow specialization of one. Although in grad school I was encouraged to pursue a more focused specialization, I wholeheartedly resisted this idea. My own ideal is of the salonnieres and philosophes of the eighteenth century, who could write and converse about all aspects of the arts and humanities, often even science. I’ve lost any hope, however, in being able to know much about science or math. My parents, Henri and Elvira Moscovici, are both mathematicians, and I saw how different (and difficult) these fields are from the humanities. The best we can hope, in the arts and humanities, is to approximate the logic, simplicity and clarity that characterizes the field of mathematics.
8. How do you see Romania’s future?
8. I see Romania’s future as being increasingly open to international collaborations and the country as being more visible internationally. Of course, success stories like Herta Muller and Cristian Mungiu add to the country’s visibility. I predict that there will be more success stories like this. In the field of journalism and literature, Romania already has collaborations with Conde Nast Publishing, Forbes Magazine and others. I think such international collaborations in journalism will expand. Culturally, in every country groups and individuals create worthy art and literature and compete for limited consecration and power. The content of the art or literature are often inseparable from the institutions competing for influence. This is part of human nature and won’t change. The politics in Romania is the wild card. I don’t know enough about the ins and outs of politics in the country to make any predictions about it. It would be best for the country and its people, needless to say, if the infrastructure and laws of a democratic nation are taken seriously.
Corey Hart: The Ultimate Teenage Heartthrob of the 80′s
by Claudia Moscovici
(For my main references for this essay, I relied upon the Wikipedia article on Corey Hart (see link below) as well as interviews given by the singer on various talk shows over the years):
*This essay is written in fond memory of my best friend from middle school and high school, Allison L. Alberty, who passed away in February of 2008. She’s the one who helped “Americanize” me in musical taste and so many other ways. I miss her very much and will always treasure our memories and friendship.
in loving memory of my best friend from high school, Allison Alberty
For over a year, my fifteen-year-old daughter, Sophie Troyka, has been obsessed with the boy band One Direction, the favorite teenage heartthrobs of her generation. She and her best friends, Emily Park and Emily Hunter (they all asked me to include their names in this essay:), go to their concerts, follow them on Twitter and Tumbler, enter radio contests (which included decking out my car with pictures of the band) and, of course, play their music loudly, often.
Exhibit A: My car decked out (destroyed?) for my daughter’s One Direction radio contest
After destroying (I mean decking out) my car for the contest (which the girls didn’t win, despite working on the car for two months, since the radio station picked a winner randomly) and hearing the girls play What Makes You Beautiful at top volume a few too many times, I was starting to lose patience with their teenage heartthrobs. In fact, for the past year, I’ve been caught up in nostalgia for Sophie’s earlier childhood years, when she preferred activities with her family to loud pop music with her friends. At some point, when I asked Sophie, yet again, to turn the blasted music down, she asked me: “Didn’t you have a band you really loved when you were a teenager?” Oh yes, I did! I thought back to my favorite singers in the 80’s: Duran Duran, Bryan Adams, Rick Springfield, Laura Branigan, the Pointer Sisters, Irene Cara, U-2 and others. But one name definitely stood out: the hot and talented Corey Hart.
In a way, my daughter’s question killed two birds with one stone: it got me to empathize with her One Direction mania and also triggered memories of the best years of my own adolescence, rather than focusing nostalgically on her early childhood. Thinking about it more positively, there are so many reasons to celebrate rather than be sad about the fact our kids grow up, become more independent and establish their own social and, eventually, professional lives.
Rather than wallowing in “empty nest syndrome,” it’s more worthwhile to recover some of our own youthfulness, as our lives start to center, once again, on the couple and our own personal growth, as they did before having kids. As long as one doesn’t go overboard–spilling into a hopeless nostalgia for one’s high school “glory days” or, even worse, a farcical midlife crisis (complete with “trophy” much younger husband or wife; crazy spending sprees and sports cars one can’t afford), I think re-living aspects of our teenage years can help rejuvenate us psychologically, if not also physically.
At any rate, that was my train of thought when I decided to look up on the internet some of my favorite teenage heartthrobs. I did so with some trepidation, however, fearing that many of them would be either dead from a drug overdose or complete wrecks from all the excesses of the rock star lifestyle (I’ve watched enough episodes of VH1 Where Are They Now? to know that such fears were well-founded).
I won’t go into the details of which rock stars from the 80’s confirmed my worst suspicions. However, I was thrilled to see that my favorite teenage heartthrob, Corey Hart (Corey Mitchell Hart, born May 31, 1962), proved to be an exception to the rule. In fact, Corey managed to have it all: enduring success in music, a loving marriage and a happy family life. Blessed with incredible good looks which made him a favorite among teenage fans during the 80’s; self-confidence without cockiness; the social skill to network and establish good connections in the music industry (which, in an interview, he aptly called “hustling”); and particularly with great musical talent, Corey Hart established himself as the ultimate pop/rock heartthrob with the hits Sunglasses at Night (1983, part of his popular album First Offense) and Never Surrender (1985, part of his popular album Boy in the Box).
music video of Never Surrender:
During the mid-eighties, the young rock star reached the pinnacle of success, selling over 16 million records internationally and having 9 of his songs in the Top 40. In 1984, Hart was also nominated for Best New Artist. Of course, as the singer himself admits, there are highs and lows in any artist’s career (particularly, I should add, when the so-called lows are measured by such peaks of international success):
“I went through what every artist will go through in his career who’s worth his salt. Any artist from Elton John to Steve Winwood. There are peaks and valleys in a career. If you delude yourself into thinking that there are only peaks you’re a fool. I’m a sensitive individual. I would be dishonest to tell you that there were not moments of great pain. But I am an individual that has a lot of inner strength and believes very strongly, and l write about that in songs, to find your solace and your refuge in yourself.” (Sire press release, 1992)
Corey Hart by Herb Ritts
Having immigrated from communist Romania in the early 80’s, for obvious reasons, I was particularly drawn to Corey Hart’s 1983 music video Sunglasses at Night. Not only did the video feature the stunningly good-looking singer in a lead role, but also it was replete with visual allusions to one of my favorite novels about totalitarian oppression (which, incidentally, my family had just escaped), George Orwell’s 1984.
Sunglasses at Night music video:
After watching his Corey Hart’s videos, I also watched several of his interviews, both from the eighties (with Ed Sullivan, Joan Rivers and the Today Show) as well as more recent ones (with George). Even now, decades later, I was very impressed with the modesty and intelligence with which he spoke, his facility with languages (a native Canadian from Montreal who spent part of his childhood in Mexico City, Hart is fluent in English, Spanish and French) and, above all, the manner in which he managed to balance such a spectacularly successful career as a rock star with a stable and rewarding family life. Although Corey was especially close to his mother, Mina, to whom he dedicated his first album, he was pained, throughout his life but especially during his childhood, by his lack of contact with his father. Perhaps this explains, in part, why he was all the more determined to be a good father to his own (four) children and a good partner to his wife, Julie Masse. Whenever the professional demands of his busy music career vied for his attention with the needs of his family, Corey prioritized his family life.
The foundation of that healthy family life is the deep love—and romance—that Corey and his partner, Julie Masse, have shared for nearly twenty years. Corey Hart met Julie Masse in 1993, when they both co-presented at the Juno Awards. Aside from being a beauty, Julie was a talented singer and rising star in the Canadian music scene, with two platinum albums of her own (Julie Masse and A Contre Jour). Upon the suggestion of Masse’s manager, Corey and Julie began collaborating on an English album. Hart co-produced and composed five songs sung by Julie Masse, for the album Circle of One. As the two singers fell in love, their professional collaboration eventually led to merging their personal lives as well. Corey and Julie began dating in 1994 and married in 2000. They have three daughters (India, born in 1995; Dante, born in 1997; River, born in 1999) and a son (Rain, born in 2004). Although both singers have continued to pursue their professional lives, they prioritize their family. They have created their own family sanctuary, for the most part sheltered from the public eye (though they periodically return to the media spotlight), in a superb villa by the beach in Nassau, Bahamas.
This only goes to show that, as a rock star, you can have it all, but only if you nurture your personal life first and foremost. In a recent interview with George, Corey stated that he doesn’t know how celebrities like Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt manage to combine their acting careers in the limelight with having about 15 kids. He admits that he himself couldn’t focus on his four kids while also leading the rock star life, and constantly going on tour all over the world.
Of course, being a family man doesn’t prevent Corey Hart from continuing to pursue his professional goals. In 2002, Seymor Stein offered Hart a boutique label, Siena Records (part of Sire/Warner Music Canada). Corey Hart signed Marie-Christine Depestre–a talented Canadian singer born in Haiti, whose style reflects a perfect mélange of rhythm and blues, pop and rock–as Siena Records’ first star. Subsequently, the record company also released Hart’s own hit single in the spring of 2012, Truth Will Set You Free. This song alludes to the pain and fear of discrimination endured by those who feel like they have to hide being gay. As the title suggests, the song encourages honesty and, more specifically, coming out of the closet. However, as Corey states in an interview with George, Truth Will Set You Free is about human rights in general: the freedom of identity and expression that each individual should enjoy without fear of discrimination and hate.
In 2011, Corey Hart has also relaunched his Facebook website. Based on his recent posts, it looks like he will publish a book in 2013 about his musical career and life. We look forward to it! Corey’s success story is a living testimony that a rock star can, indeed, have it all: but only by leading a life that balances “attitude and virtue”, to cite the name of his seventh album, released in 1992.
How writers write fiction: Marching to the beat of your own drum
by Claudia Moscovici
In an earlier article, entitled Why writers write, I explored some of the reasons why writers write fiction by looking into common misconceptions. I argued, for instance, that most writers don’t write in order to achieve fame or fortune, both of which are cosmically unlikely and therefore equally unlikely to last as primary motivations for writers past a very young (and naïve) age:
Now I’d like to explore the process of writing (and misconceptions about it as well), by relying on my own experience as a novelist as well as by using as examples a few of my favorite fiction writers. Basically, I believe that there’s no rule, regimen or standard way of writing fiction: not only in terms of content and style (the diversity of fiction speaks for itself and renders this point quite obvious), but also in terms of the writing process itself.
The diversity in styles and approaches to fiction writing makes the job of those who teach Creative Writing un-enviably difficult. I’ve often read interviews with fiction writers and advice given writers offered by Creative Writing seminars, courses and websites that indicate certain standard procedures of writing fiction. Those usually include making a plot outline; writing a scheme for the structure of the short story or novel; disciplining and pacing yourself as a creative writer in specific ways. Some teachers, writers and courses even suggest that fiction writers need to isolate themselves from social media, email and other external “distractions” in order to concentrate better on writing fiction. Don’t get me wrong, I think such advice can be very helpful to many writers. Yet, at the same time, I still maintain that the creative writing process is as individual as writing styles. Each writer writes at his or her own pace and requires specific conditions.
There’s no doubt that all fiction writers need some uninterrupted periods of time to write fiction and a good place to do it, or A Room of One’s Own (1929), to allude to Virginia Woolf’s famous essay. The reason for this is quite obvious: fiction writing requires stepping into imaginary situations and entering the minds of imagined characters. This delicate creative process would be extremely difficult, if not impossible, to achieve in short spurts of time or with constant interruptions. Speaking from personal experience, this is part of the reason why my first novel, Velvet Totalitarianism (2009), which I wrote when I was an academic teaching philosophy and literature and a young mom of two small kids, took me ten years to write. Once my children became older and more independent and (especially) once I became a full-time writer and art critic, I had the right conditions to finish The Seducer (2011), my second novel, in only three years. But I wouldn’t take this common denominator of fiction writers—needing some uninterrupted chunks of time, a space to write and periods of peace and quiet—to an extreme, to suggest that fiction writers need to isolate themselves from social media or external input in order to write fiction. There’s a delicate balance between needing external input and isolating oneself to write fiction (or to create art, a similar creative process). Nobody can dictate to any writer or artist what that balance is because it’s as individual as the personality of each writer and his or her writing style.
In fact, probably many creative writers and artists find themselves in the position that Pablo Picasso describes to his partner, Françoise Gilot: namely, that of needing external stimulation and contact with others as a rich source of inspiration for art, yet also, because of that, not having enough time to focus on each work of art. As Gilot recalls in her autobiography, Life with Picasso:
“Sometimes Pablo would begin a canvas in the morning and in the evening he would say, ‘Oh, well, it’s done, I suppose. What I had to say plastically is there, but it came almost too quickly. If I leave it like that, with only the appearance of having what I wanted to put into it, it doesn’t satisfy me. But I’m interrupted continually every day and I’m hardly ever in a position to push my thought right up to its last implication.’ […] I asked him why he didn’t shut out the world, and with it the interruptions. ‘But I can’t,’ he said. ‘What I create in painting is what comes from my interior world. But at the same time I need the contacts and exchanges I have with others.’” (Life with Picasso, Françoise Gilot, Anchor Books, New York, 1989, p. 123)
In our times, this balance between external contacts and inspiration and the solitude necessary to perfect any art form is probably even more difficult to reach because we live in an era of inundation from social media on a daily basis. Nowadays, fiction writers and artists rely upon the social media—Facebook, blogs, interviews with journalists–not only to speak about their art and share with readers (or viewers) what they’ve already produced, but also to find new sources of inspiration. For some fiction writers–particularly those who write historical fiction, true crime novels and psychological– research and external input may be indispensable. Once again speaking from my own experience, when I wrote the historical novel Velvet Totalitarianism (Intre Doua Lumi), I had to read literally dozens of books on the history of Romania and about Romanian communism in order to be able to draw a historically accurate fictional depiction of that era. I couldn’t rely simply on inspiration or on fading childhood memories, since I had left the country at a relatively young age and wanted my novel to be partly based on actual facts, not only about invented characters and situations. When I wrote my second novel, The Seducer, on the subject of psychopathic seduction, I became even more dependent on external sources of information. I relied especially on blogs, since at the time there were relatively few books published on the subject of psychopaths and other social predators. Most of the information on the subject, particularly testimonials by victims which were extremely helpful, could be found on blogs such as lovefraud.com, which I read with great interest as background for writing fiction about a psychopathic seducer.
I believe that how you write—the process of fiction writing itself, starting from the space you right in; how fast or slow you pace yourself; the conditions and interruptions you choose or that are imposed upon you—does NOT determine the QUALITY of your fiction. But these conditions, and the balance you find as a fiction writer between isolation and external input—has a significant impact upon the QUANTITY and even the style of your fiction. The best advice I can offer any fiction writer is to find his or her own balance that works for them rather than rely upon generic advice. I guess that’s a paradoxical way of saying the best advice I have is not to follow any general advice and choose instead what works for your situation, personality and style. To support my case for the importance of marching to the beat of your own drum, I’d like to offer examples from some of my favorite writers.
1. Honoré de Balzac (1799-1850) and La Comédie humaine
As a scholar of Comparative Literature specializing in 19th-century French fiction, it’s not surprising that my main examples will come mostly from the French classics. One of my favorite novelists, Honoré de Balzac (1799-1850), rivaled Napoleon in his ambition. In his wide-ranging work, La Comédie humaine, Balzac aimed to paint a literary portrait of “all aspects of society” during the period of the Restoration and the July Monarchy (1815-1848). He wrote about 91 finished stories, novels and essays that capture almost every facet of French society and culture following the fall of Napoleon in 1815. Like many writers, his creative genius was spurred on by failure. After finishing school, Balzac apprenticed to become a lawyer, but decided pretty early on that he didn’t like the field. He then experimented with publishing, printing, becoming a critic and even a politician. All of these more traditional professions didn’t suit him, however.
Ultimately, Balzac decided to follow his dream of being a fiction writer. Given the scope of his literary ambition, he set for himself an extremely rigorous routine. He wrote at all hours of the day and night, staying awake by drinking many cups of strong coffee that ultimately damaged his health. Throughout his life, Balzac’s difficult writing schedule—and lack of financial stability—strained his relationship with his family and even with friends. Despite writing dozens of novels and short stories, Balzac didn’t write quickly. He just worked long hours. Biographers document that he wrote approximately 15 hours a day. He took a nap after supper from 6 p.m to midnight, then woke up to write during the evening and night again. The author’s novels are greatly influenced by his life experiences, even though they’re not exactly autobiographical. Like Zola did after him, Balzac uses his observations of society to create fictional characters that offer a sweeping sketch of his era. His writing is a reflection of the balance he found between living and interacting with so many people from very diverse social backgrounds and the strenuous discipline he imposed on himself in order to fulfill his vast literary ambition.
2. Gustave Flaubert (1821-1880) and Madame Bovary (1856)
Of course, writing a little may take just as much discipline and time as writing a lot. At the other end of the spectrum (at least in terms of quantity of writing), my favorite French writer, Gustave Flaubert, was far less prolific than Balzac, even though he was equally ambitious. Flaubert achieved international fame for his unforgettable novel, Madame Bovary (1856), as well as for a beautiful, innovative yet starkly honest (and even cynical) mode of writing that the author polished to perfection. For Flaubert, style was everything. Avoiding all clichés, he edited fastidiously his short stories and novels, pursuing what he called “le mot juste” (the right word). Perfecting style in a few works took as much work for Flaubert as sketching an entire era in nearly 100 works did for Balzac. In his correspondence, Flaubert states that this perfected style didn’t flow naturally out of him. He had to work hard, and edit constantly, to approximate it.
Like many writers, Flaubert encountered his share of challenges and setbacks. By the time of his death, however, he became known as the master of French realism (despite his lyrical style, which is also regarded by critics as the last echo of Romanticism). The publication of Madame Bovary (1856), the story of the disillusionment and eventual suicide of a provincial doctor’s wife who (fruitlessly) seeks love and meaning through a series of adulterous affairs, was greeted by the public with scandal rather than admiration. When chapters of the novel were published in La Revue de Paris (October 1956 to December 1956), Madame Bovary was attacked as “obscene” by the public prosecutor. Flaubert became acquitted, however, the following year. Afterwards, the novel quickly became a best seller, going far beyond a succès de scandale. By the time of his death, Flaubert was considered as one of the greatest French writers of the century (and he still is).
No rule, advice or measure could apply equally well to a writer like Balzac as to a writer like Flaubert, except perhaps the very general tenet that each found his own balance and discipline in the process of writing to suit his writing style, personality and literary ambition.
3. Snippets of the interview with Romanian writer Razvan Petrescu: Marching to the Beat of your own Drum
Perhaps no writer shows the relativity of the writing process—and even casts doubt upon the boundary conventionally drawn between fiction and nonfiction, or fact and imagination—as my friend, the Romanian writer Razvan Petrescu. I have already written about his latest collection of short stories in the following article:
To continue our discussion, I recently interviewed him about his books, his life and the writing process for a series of articles published in the Romanian magazine Scrisul Romanesc and the blog Agentia de Carte. To my mind, Razvan Petrescu exemplifies the meaning of the English expression “marching to the beat of your own drum,” both as a person and as a writer (since the two aspects are, after all, intertwined). What struck me most about his interview, from which I’m translating only a few bits and pieces here, is the fact that his nonfiction (meaning his answers to my very traditional, journalistic questions) reads like some of the best fiction I have ever read. His first answer, to my very standard question “When did you begin writing fiction?” reminds me of lines from one of my favorite novels, Lolita (1955), by the man I consider the greatest American novelist, the Russian-born Vladimir Nabokov. In this beautiful and lyrical passage of the novel, the narrator, Humbert Humbert introduces Annabel, his first love and the precursor to Lolita: “All at once we were madly, clumsily, shamelessly, agonizingly in love with each other; hopelessly, I should add, because the frenzy of mutual possession might have been assuaged only by our actually imbibing and assimilating every particle of each others soul and flesh; but there we were, unable even to mate as slum children would have so easily found an opportunity to do” (Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov, New York: Vintage International, 1997, p. 12).
Although Petrescu has a style of his own, of course, like Nabokov, he’s a master of style, whether he writes fiction or nonfiction. Speaking of which, if you believe that any course, author or teacher can draw a sharp distinction between fiction and nonfiction or tell any creative writer how to write, you may change your mind after reading parts of this humorous, honest, chaotic and–above all—unique and original interview with the writer and editor Razvan Petrescu. Enjoy the (non)fiction!
Claudia Moscovici: When did you begin writing fiction?
Razvan Petrescu: Around the age of 15, when I fell in love for the third time. She had long, wavy red hair and well-formed breasts. My wonder knew no bounds when I was faced with this enigmatic pyramidal structure. I was fascinated by other zones and became absent-minded. Which didn’t provoke any particular happiness, given the fact that I was still expected to do various practical things, which included painting the walls, as I was dreaming with my hand shielding my forehead. I was thus overcome by a terrible love. It was autumn, the leaves were falling, the baby birds were hatching, while I was meandering in front of her house in my high school uniform with the number of my school inscribed on my left arm, my face turning melancholic-green with despair. She wasn’t in love with me yet. She would become swept in the feeling only at the moment when it left me and, because I had already read a whole slew of books (especially police thrillers and stories about submarines), I started writing her verses with an eye makeup pencil on a little notepad. I would read them alone at home and would cry seeing how much pain those words stolen from maximum suffering could provoke. When I read them again three years later, I couldn’t believe that I was able to write such idiocies and was overcome with a boundless sense of shame.
CM: What inspires you to write fiction?
RP: Almost anything. The blade of grass upon which climbs a little insect. The insect falls over, moves its little legs, I step on it with my shoe, a shoe meant for such events. The purplish clouds crossed by planes at sunset on the Paris-Slobozia route awaken in me aviatico-poetic catastrophes. I see the terrified passengers placing on their oxygen masks, screaming in them, waving their arms. The oxygen doesn’t work, the airplane changes course at the last moment exactly above IOR Park, over a little pond upon which floats a little ship with a hole in it. They all die of asphyxiation on the plane, while those on the ship drown in the greenish waters. … Usually I transform banal events with regular people into tragedies, or vice versa. I’m attracted to the dramatic, the grotesque, the painful. I describe what I observe, adding as many imagined things as possible to make the story more plausible, or conversely, more absurd.
CM: Who are the writers that inspire you most?
RP: Bach, Chekhov, Céline, Salinger, John Osborne, Raymond Carver, Mozart, Miles Davis, Donald Bartholomew, Joyce, Faulkner, Schubert, Mahler, Lester Young, Cortazar, Buzzati, Garcia Marquez, Truman Capote, Coleman Hawkins, Chopin, Ben Webster, Oscar Peterson, Haneke, Pachelbel, Fellini, Tarkovsky, Beethoven. The harmony of the piano. The king of the flies. Friday or the languages of the Pacific. … In order not to become mixed up, I’ve gotten into the habit of including my answer to this same question, which I’ve been asked by others and asked myself in other contexts, adding to it nonsensically titles, names, kinds, in order to leave an impression of culture pure and simple. But, above all, I do this in order to avoid boredom…
CM: No fiction is strictly autobiographical, but did you express any personal elements in your fiction. If so, which ones?
RP: I didn’t express anything, for the simple reason that everything I write and experience is fiction. In other words, if I included autobiographical elements in my fiction, they’re fictional. Example: the fact that I studied medicine. I didn’t. I wasn’t a doctor. I never lived in Bucharest. I didn’t go to high school number 43. I didn’t try to sleep with the high school beauty queen in ninth grade. I didn’t have a friend in kindergarten that died, and I didn’t go to her funeral. … I wasn’t a writer, I didn’t have a job, and thus I didn’t work at the magazines “The Word,” “Amphitheater,” the “Literature Museum,” the “Ministry of Culture,” All Publishing, Rosetti, Brukenthal and Curtea Veche Publishing….
CM: To follow-up my last question, what is the relation between your personal life and your life as a writer?
RP: It’s one of total harmony. They overlap. Any object or being that overlaps with another is happy. Given that I don’t need a job in order to make a living, I write all the time, especially at night. I’ve dedicated my life to literature for well over two decades. My personal life has been fulfilled in being a writer and vice versa. I had the good fortune of receiving good money by selling books and, also, through translations. Last month, when I signed a contract for the translation of my most recent book in Macedonia, they offered me almost 150 Euros. I had to renounce the retribution, since I know my value and it’s not quite so big. If I had accepted the payment for the author’s rights I’d have lost it completely, so I asked the editor to allow me to give him money.
Razvan Petrescu’s Rubato: The Coordinates of World-class Romanian Fiction
by Claudia Moscovici
Despite charting very unfamiliar territories in fiction, the writer Razvan Petrescu is quite familiar—and famous—in his native country, Romania. A versatile and award-winning author, Petrescu is an essayist, fiction writer and playwright. Among his numerous literary prizes, he won the award Book of the Year at the National Salon of Books in Cluj; a fiction award for The Farce (Farsa, Editura Unitext, 1994) from the Association of Writers in Bucharest (Asociatia Scriitorilor din Bucuresti); the award UNITER for the best play of the year, Spring at the Buffet (Primavara la buffet, Editura Expansion, 1995), and the Prose Prize given by Radio Romania Cultural. Some of his works have been translated into Hebrew, Spanish and will be soon translated into English as well.
Traddutore Traditore
I have to admit, however, that I don’t envy the translators’ job, which I’m sure is very challenging. They say that poetry is the most difficult genre to translate, but in my opinion fiction that is unique in content and employs stylistically many dialects—such as the writing of Ion Luca Caragiale, Romain Gary and Razvan Petrescu–is the most difficult kind of literature to translate. And yet, that is usually also the most noteworthy and ingenious fiction. My main goal in this review is to convey the fact that Razvan Petrescu is a world-class author to an international audience, which may not be familiar with the Romanian language or with Romanian literature. How will I go about doing that? In mathematics or geography, you pinpoint a location, however remote or difficult to find, in terms of known coordinates. There’s no equivalent precise guide in the arts and humanities, however. The best I can do to offer such coordinates is to explain the relatively unfamiliar in terms of the relatively familiar: canonized authors that everyone knows; psychological fiction; universal themes and philosophical currents. The book I’ll be discussing here is Rubato (Curtea Veche Publishing, 2011), which is a collection of several of Razvan Petrescu’s prize-winning short fiction, published from 1989 to 2003. Rubato is like an album of the author’s best hits, if you will, but it is also far more than that: it’s world-class fiction, comparable, I believe, to the works of legendary writers like Franz Kafka and Jorge Luis Borges.
Unique, uncategorizable fiction
Most fiction writers can be integrated rather easily into a genre, a movement or a style: be it realism, fantasy, horror, or magical realism. There are a few writers, however, who are so quirky in style and unique in content that they’re almost impossible to categorize in terms of any neat and familiar literary labels. Franz Kafka and Jorge Luis Borges are two of my favorite authors among those. How do you attach a label to Kafka’s psychological realism of the subconscious and dream; to what do you compare Borges’ mathematical paradoxes translated into a puzzling fiction? I think Razvan Petrescu’s Rubato fits into this uncategorizable category of fiction. Which is why I believe that the best way to describe it to those who haven’t read it yet is in terms of equally innovative and quirky authors, such as Kafka and Borges. What Rubato shares with, for instance, Kafka’s The Castle (1926) is a psychological realism that goes far beyond—and beneath—the layers of our conscious reality.
photo Herb Ritts
The psychological realism of the subconscious
If Kafka’s The Castle (1926) or The Trial (1925) feel so real to us it’s not because they are actually realist in either content or style. It’s because these works focus so well on our unconscious fears—of powerlessness and alienation in a modern, bureaucratic society—that they bring them to the surface of our awareness. In reading the works of Kafka, we face our misgivings and fears, confront them and even laugh at them, since they appear absurd. Yet we no longer minimize them and are unable to shove them back under the rug, into the unconscious, to dismiss them. That’s why the works of Kafka remain so eerie and unsettling to us. Despite their sense of the absurd and humor, they’re as far removed as possible from superficial farce. The same phenomenon is at work when you read Razvan Petrescu’s Rubato. This slice of life tale depicts a psychiatrist’s “normal” day at work, which is full of abnormalities.
photo Vadim Stein
All sorts of patients come in and out of his office, including a security officer/spy, a prostitute suffering from venereal diseases and a woman with psychopathic tendencies, who likes to torture and kill birds. Though they are all quite severely disturbed, the readers can’t help but laugh when reading their plights. The security officer has stinky feet and a very shallow conscience; the prostitute takes her clothes off and asks the psychiatrist to cure her venereal diseases; while the sadistic woman that likes to torture birds is beat at her own game (cruelty), as the psychiatrist admits to being more weird than her (and better at “befriending” and then killing birds as well). The name of the game for each of the characters is a complete detachment from the elements that render us human (empathy, caring, emotion, deep and meaningful connections to others). Despite this serious psychological deficiency, the tone of the narrative is so realistic in its style—the dialect and mannerisms of speech of each character constitute in themselves masterpieces of modern fiction—that the reader too becomes somewhat detached and laughs at them. Yet in laughing at them we also laugh at ourselves. Razvan Petrescu captures the most disturbing elements of the human condition through a series of hallucinatory characters, dialogues and diatribes that simultaneously appear absurd and implausible yet also seem more real than our daily, conscious reality. How does he do that? Through what may be called “laughter through tears,” that authors like Ion Luca Caragiale, Anton Chekhov and Shalom Aleichem are best known for.
Laughter through tears: Neither satire nor irony
The kind of narrative that establishes layers of psychological distance among the narrator, characters and readers in literature is usually described as “satire” or “irony”. But like Anton Chekkov, Ion Luca Caragiale or Shalom Aleichem’s fiction, Rubato provides neither: or rather, it offers much more than that. Irony and satire are rhetorical stances that assume a position of superiority towards the characters and their actions from the narrator and/or author and readers. Authors that rely heavily on irony often ridicule the characters’ weaknesses and follies. I see no evidence of any narrative sense of superiority or authorial arrogance in Rubato. When we laugh at its characters, we realize we’re also laughing at ourselves. Hence the sense of unease that accompanies Rubato’s keen and pervasive sense of humor, which brings to light our phobias, perverse desires, abnormality and insecurities.
Even more disturbingly, Rubato constantly reminds us of the fragility of human life and of our mortality. Scenes of death and decay pervade Razvan Petrescu’s fiction. No matter how theatrical and comical the depictions of illness and death may be, unlike the scenes we see on the daily news, they still touch and disturb us psychologically. With a sense of indulgence and even love for humanity—and placing himself on the same plane as his characters and readers–the author opens up, like a doctor, the worst of our human qualities and examines them closely, one by one. We greet this complex process with mixed emotions–laughter, horror, revulsion and indulgence–because in these narratives, like in a hallway of mirrors, we see reflections of our inner lives.
photo Herb Ritts
Love, misogyny and women
In a recent interview with Esquire Magazine (Romania), Razvan Petrescu described himself—tongue-in-cheek, of course–as a “misogynist womanizer.” I’ve never in my life met a misogynist who admits to hating yet needing women. Misogynists tend to hide their contempt for women under the pretext of loving them (a technique common for psychopathic seducers) or of respecting certain women (such as mothers or the “virtuous” few) and hating all the rest. There’s no trace of such underlying misogyny in any of Petrescu’s works. What we find in Rubato, for instance, is a compelling depiction of fear of the object of desire. This fear is a far cry from Arthur Schopenhauer or Henry de Montherlant’s flagrant and self-righteous misogyny. Many gorgeous, sexy women populate Petrescu’s fiction. Their erotic power is attenuated by humor; their emotional appeal is neutralized by fear.
In the short story The Door (Usa), for instance, a mother and a daughter exchange worried whispers about their husband/father, who is dying on a hospital bed in an adjacent room. The doctor, about to go to a surgery and utterly indifferent to his patient’s plight, attempts to persuade the two women to take the moribund patient back home. There’s nothing he can do for him at the hospital anymore. Rather than worrying about the poor state of health of the patient, the two women debate in hushed voices the cost of transporting the ill man home. The patient overhears the whole conversation through a slightly cracked door. He expires, in a scene as vivid but more concise than Tolstoy’s The Death of Ivan Ilych (1886), knowing that he’s neither appreciated nor loved by his wife and his daughter. Razvan Petrescu’s fictional world is filled with such uncaring women, indifferent doctors, loveless marriages and spoiled children. They show the following thought experiment in action: When cynicism is pushed as far as it can go, it becomes psychological realism.
Cynicism versus nihilism
There’s no doubt that Razvan Petrescu’s fiction is pervaded by an underlying sense of cynicism. Not nihilism, but cynicism. Nihilism, or the questioning and negation of human ideals and values, may be great for philosophy—think Nietzsche—but it can be awfully boring and preachy when we encounter it in fiction. Who needs a dissertation on the meaninglessness of life and human values from some uppity character delivering lectures from up high, on a pedestal? Cynicism, on the other hand, tends to be a very welcome perspective in fiction. It avoids both the unforgivable naiveté of idealism and the arrogance of nihilism. Of course, in modern usage, cynicism has little to do with the original Greek Cynics, who believed that the purpose of life was to live a virtuous and modest life, deprived of unnecessary luxuries: in other words, a life in accordance to Nature. Perhaps modern Cynicism uses as its frame of reference only the most comical and extreme of the Cynics—Diogenes of Sinope—who rejected his society, begged to survive, and lived in a stone jar in the marketplace. Either way you look at it, cynicism offers a critical perspective of the human condition and of our societies with enough humor and sense of the absurd that even humanists can take it. Written in a dramatic, hallucinatory and utterly engaging polyphony of dialects (and characterizations); confronting our deepest fears and flaws with a disarming honesty and contagious cynicism; probing psychologically the limits of our humanity and moral values, Razvan Petrescu’s Rubato is a masterpiece of world (not just Romanian) literature.
Edward J. Ahearn, Urban Confrontations in Literature and Social Science, 1848-2001: European Contexts, American Evolutions. Surrey, England: Ashgate, 2010. ISBN 978-0-7546-6882-4;
ISBN 978-0-7546-9538-7 (ebook), 236 pp.
Edward Ahearn has developed a truly comparative, interdisciplinary investigation of representations of the modern city in literature and sociology (which he also calls social science). This is an excellent model of committed scholarship, extending stretching from mid-nineteenth-century Europe to the present-day United States. The author draws us in by explaining that the book “reflects my personal and professional life. Born in Manhattan in 1937, I grew up in Brooklyn in the 1940s and1950s, stimulated by New York’s vast spectacle and the enormous energy and variety of crowds in streets and subways” (1).
Baudelaire
A specialist in nineteenth-century French literature and author of a book on Rimbaud, Ahearn opens with Baudelaire’s prose poem, “The Bad Glazier,” as a metaphor of his critique of ideologies, both political and academic, characterized as “a hegemonic battle between literature, psychology and social theorizing,” in Baudelaire’s terms, “breaking the glass” (loc. cit.).
The entire book is organized around two domains of research: academic or politically engaged urban sociology and literature, mostly American. Given the wide variety of examples, Ahearn assumes that most readers would not have read the majority of works he cites. So he structures each of three parts to highlight the continuity of his focus on Chicago, Paris, Los Angeles, and New York.
In each part he first examines the writings of social science and then he interprets literary exemplars. Part I, “The Heroism of Modern Life? Baudelaire, Brecht and the Founders of Urban Sociology” (9-64), provides a pedagogical model, highlighting Baudelaire’s Parisian modernism and Brecht’s theatrical radicalism through his Chicago drama, “Jungle of Cities.” Part II, “Chicago Black and White: Immigration and Race in Native Son and The Adventures of Augie March” (67-112), deals with American identity in major works by Richard Wright and Saul Bellow. Part III, “Power, Governance and the Struggle for Human Realization” (113-179), introduces woman authors who portray struggles with ethnic and immigrant identity, and gender roles, Jazz by Toni Morrison, Sandra Cisneros’s The House on Mango Street, and Fae Myenne Ng’s Bone.
A substantial Epilogue, “DeLillo’s Global City” (181-203), carefully examines Cosmopolis, “a novel of world quality” (181) published in 2003. Ahearn returns to Baudelaire’s “The Bad Glazier,” as he recalls his other literary examples to explain the “space-time” compression of Cosmopolis (183). Throughtout the book, the author accompanies his careful analysis of each work with a respectful, and often laudatory engagement with other critics, lending a generous dialogical dimension to his exposition.
Ahearn’s parallel (or complementary) theoretical analysis systematically studies the development of urban social science, lending a greater coherence to the otherwise scattered variety of literary interpretations, some of them quite detailed. I found the study of Robert Moses to be the most dramatic: chap. 6, “Bureaucracy and the Lone City Dweller: James Q. Wilson – and Michel Foucault – Meet Bartleby” (121-35), continuing in chap. 7, “Jazz and The Power Broker: Urban Tycoon versus Real Lives of Ordinary Black People” (138-60).
The reading experience is usually friendly but sometimes arduous. Ahearn provides deft plot summaries, and strategic reminders of his process, to clarify his interpretations and critiques.
This is an exemplary pedagogical work, the fruit of a life-time of award-winning teaching and co-teaching at Brown University. From the perspective of literary studies, it could be said that Baudelaire, and to a lesser degree Rimbaud and Balzac, comprise the foundation which justifies Edward Ahearn’s defense and criticism of urban sociology, a social science that illumines the sad, complex facts of big cities such as Paris and Chicago – the two prominent places of interest in this richly documented, militant but hopeful, and clearly argued book.
The music industry is (in)famous for hits that quickly become yesterday’s news. Most pop songs are played on the radio for about two to three months. During that short period of time, we hear them so often that we tire of them. Afterwards, we rarely run across those songs again: except, perhaps, years later on “oldies” stations. It’s rare and remarkable to come across hits that are so memorable, melodious and catchy that they have a staying power that renders them timeless classics. I’d count, for instance, many of the Beatles’ hits in this category, along with Frank Sinatra’s and Nat King Cole’s classic love songs, which are, indeed… unforgettable.
Sandy Chila’s songs, “Avec ton Amour” and “A Light that Dances Solo” have the quality and beauty of such timeless classics. It’s almost impossible to look away from the Tacori jewelers commercial, “Cupid’s arrow,” that features Chila’s song, “Avec ton Amour.” The song is both mesmerizing and memorable.
Bilingual and multicultural like its composer, “Avec ton Amour” features both French and English lyrics to a melody that harks back to the best songs of Salvatore Adamo or Frankie Valli. Making such a comparison takes nothing away from the song’s originality and uniqueness, of course. In fact, some of the most successful contemporary composers and singers—including Amy Winehouse, Norah Jones and Adele—incorporate elements from the best pop music of previous decades while also rendering them new. Timelessness in pop music, to my mind, implies a certain continuity, not only originality. The most talented new composers and musicians don’t fully reject the past or try to reinvent the wheel. Rather, they integrate previous popular musical traditions—be it swing, jazz, Latin music or French varitetes–into their original and quirky compositions and style. Sandy Chila represents the best of both worlds: he blends new and former musical styles as well as several cultural traditions that have inspired him.
As Factory Entertainment (see above), the company that represents Chila states, “the musical journey of Sandy Chila (pronounced “key-la” has taken him around the world and back again.” Chila was born in Monaco, lived in Cairo and relocated to Southern California. Influenced by musical styles considered opposites—such as classical music and hard rock (he toured and recorded for Gilby Clarke of Guns N’ Roses)—Chila’s own talent shines in timeless love songs that have captured the attention of Tacori, one of the most prestigious jewelry companies in the world. Although the signature Tacori “golden arrow” commercial—so elegant and simple, a flirtatious dance of diamond bands—includes only a tantalizing snippet of Chila’s romantic song, “Avec ton Amour”, it’s definitely worth listening to the entire song, which is available on amazon.com and other online music stores:
Memorable, poetic lyrics sung in both English and French combine with a catchy and sophisticated melody to create a song that touches the heart and lingers on your mind. Part of “Avec ton Amour”’s staying power, I believe, can be explained in terms of its international flavor. I’m referring not only to its bilingual lyrics, but also to the various musical traditions it mixes and echoes–which range from Salvatore Adamo’s classics to tango—in an unforgettable song that appeals to fans of sensuality, melody and romance.
Helena Paper House
Chila’s talents are as wide-ranging and versatile as his musical style. He’s a singer, composer and producer. He’s created the music score for the independent films “Open House” (2007) and “Overloaded” (2009). More recently, he has collaborated with the beautiful and talented young singer, Helena Lalita, producing her songs “Sunlight” and “Paper House,” signed by Warner Brothers Records. I’m certain that Chila’s talents will shine through more and more in hit songs that will reach—and seduce—a mainstream audience.
I don’t know of many authors who wouldn’t want to make their novels into a movie. There are probably three main reasons why writers would love to see their fiction turned into film: a) vanity, b) money (a novel usually sells better if it gains more visibility as a movie) and c) the most important reason, I believe, is the fact that cinema is the most comprehensive art, which includes several branches of the arts. Great films have the narrative quality of fiction; the visual appeal of photography; a top-notch music score; a good script and quality, character-based acting that, ideally, competes with theater. If you want it all, as a fiction writer, you somehow have to find a way of collaborating with an accomplished movie director. I’d like to describe below some of the options of collaboration available between fiction writers and movie directors.
Memoirs of a Geisha movie
1) Sell movie rights to your novel to a top-notch film studio
The baseball player Lefty Gomez is famously quoted as saying “I’d rather be lucky than good”. If you’re a fiction writer or a movie director, however, you definitely need to be both lucky and good to succeed. If you’re good without being lucky you won’t go far in life, unfortunately. If you’re lucky but mediocre, your star will fade quickly, as any fad does. The most successful novels that have been made into mainstream movies, I believe, usually had a winning combination of good fortune and quality writing. If you succeed in publishing your novel with a good publisher–a rather challenging process which I already described in my earlier article “How the Publishing Process Works in the U.S.” (see link below)–and if that publishing house decides to invest most of its annual promotion budget into your novel, then you have a decent chance of selling movie rights to your book.
Because each step I alluded to is very difficult, however, very few novels sell movie rights and even fewer are actually made into successful movies. One of the best examples of a novel that overcame all these hurdles is Arthur Golden’s Memoirs of a Geisha. Published with Alfred A. Knopf in 1997, this masterfully narrated historical novel about a geisha working in Kyoto, Japan around WWII became a bestseller internationally. The book sold over 4 million copies and was translated into 21 languages. Columbia Pictures bought the film rights. The movie by the same name, directed by Rob Marshall and produced by Steven Spielberg, debuted in December 2005, staring the beautiful and talented Chinese actress Zhang Ziyi. Well-acted and with spectacular, painterly scenes, the movie cost $85 million dollars to produce but, being a box office hit, made double that much in profits (over $162 million dollars).
Although there was some controversy related to the movie—a former geisha who offered Golden some background information sued him and his publisher, Alfred A. Knopf—overall, this novel is a rare and huge success story which, unfortunately, few writers can boast of. If your novel doesn’t sell tens of millions of copies worldwide and doesn’t get movie rights with a major Hollywood studio–yet you still want to see your novel made into a movie–then what do you do? Your best option is to try to find an appropriate independent film director on your own. If you choose to pursue this avenue, however, you have to exercise caution. Independent movies can be the incredibly powerful and artistic. They’re often more dramatic and character-driven than mainstream cinema. Unfortunately, the field of independent cinema is also a breeding ground for scam artists and frauds.
2) Collaborating with an independent film director
There’s no shortage of talented independent film directors out there. The challenge consists of finding the right one for your fiction and especially getting the budget necessary to make your film. I’ll have to say upfront that I caution writers against collaborating with film directors that charge the author and/or actors to fund their film. Not only do you risk losing your life savings in this manner, but also your film, even if it is produced, will probably not have a decent distribution network. Likewise, be aware of the sad reality that not all film producers will be honest or upfront about charging authors money. The most dangerous, I believe, are those that string you along and mislead you by either a) asking for incremental “reasonable” sums of money for the project that eventually add up to a huge amount or b) getting you emotionally and creatively invested in the project first, then demanding money later (a classic bait and switch technique of conartists). I think if you’re an author who has large discretionary funds at your disposal, then it’s fine to pay a movie director to make your novel into a movie: as long as both sides are honest and open about what they expect and will get from each other. But I suspect that few authors have large discretionary funds at their disposal, which would be necessary, since making movies is a costly process. If you’re not independently wealthy, as most writers aren’t, then what do you do? This is what I’ll explore next.
Although creative compatibilities between the writer and the film director are most important, without sufficient funding they can’t make a movie. I have not discussed the issue of funding when addressing the rare case of bestselling fiction being made into a blockbuster movie because in such a situation lack of money is obviously not an issue. Insufficient funding is, however, one of the main hurdles in the business of independent film. Generally speaking, there’s an excess of talented writers, independent movie producers and actors and a relative scarcity of funds for them. Fortunately, there are some funding options available to independent film producers.
Cristian Mungiu
a) Public art grants
Public art funding is especially common in Europe. I’ll use Romanian film directors as an example, not only because new Romanian cinema has gained international renown during the last decade, but also because it relies primarily upon public art grants. The National Center for Cinematography (Centrul National al Cinematografiei) and the European Media Program give annual awards to talented Romanian directors. These grants are competitive (many more directors apply than are awarded grants) and the funding is usually far more modest than the budget of mainstream Hollywood cinema. An independent film usually gets about one million Euros, sometimes less, while Hollywood movies require tens of millions of dollars.
4 months 3 weeks and 2 days by Cristian Mungiu
Even with more modest funding, however, Romanian directors have produced award-winning films that are incredibly dramatic and character-driven. Earlier I reviewed on this blog several such movies, directed by Cristian Mungiu, Vali Hotea and Bogdan George Apetri. Their grants were often supplemented by Western European film grants. In addition, universities often award film grants, as do cultural centers and institutes, such as ICR (the Romanian Cultural Institute). It is a great privilege for a fiction writer to collaborate with an independent film producer that has the capacity, talent and connections to receive such film grants and to make the most of them by producing great movies. In the best-case scenario, the talents of each complement and enhance the other and the final result is even better than the sum of the parts (fiction and film).
Outbound (Periferic) directed by Bogdan George Apetri
But even this option is relatively rare, particularly in the United States. Art grants for independent films are far more common in Europe than in the U.S. So what are some viable options for American writers and film directors?
Sundance Film Festival
b) Private non-profit funding for independent films, such as the Sundance Film grants and crowd funding, such as Kickstarter
Sundance Film Grants
In the U.S., public funding for independent films–aside from the modest grants awarded by universities mostly to their students—is meager and rare. There are, however, some private grant sources worth mentioning. The most notable among them are the Sundance Film grants offered by the Sundance Institute. The renowned actor and film director Robert Redford founded this non-profit organization in 1981. In 1985 the institute took over the United States Film Festival. Its Feature Film Program supports new independent screenwriters and directors (or “Lab Fellows”). The winners of these grants get to shoot their films under the tutelage of established film directors and cinematographers. The Sundance Institute also has similar grants for documentary films and film music. Through its combination of funding, studio experience and guidance from seasoned professionals, the Sundance programs offer a wonderful opportunity to talented new film directors. Many independent movies make the film festival circuit in the U.S. and Europe, the most prestigious of which are the Cannes and Sundance film festivals.
Kickstarter crowd funding
Kickstarter crowd funding
Another avenue for funding, particularly in the U.S. where, as mentioned, public funds are relatively few, is crowd funding. Kickstarter has become a popular source of funding for independent films. As the article below states, its films won 12 awards at the Sundance Film Festival 2012:
Launched in 2009 by Perry Chen, Yancey Strickler and Charles Adler, Kickstarter is a collective yet private way of investing money in film projects that people believe will make a profit. Film directors present a project and stipulate a deadline for raising the funds. If they can’t raise the funds by that date, then they don’t collect any of the pledged donations. The donations are made via Amazon payments and the platform is international (anyone in the world can propose projects and pledge donations). Kickstarter takes 5 percent of the profits made. The main downsides of Kickstarter are lack of enforcement and minimal quality control. The projects are selected based on their stipulated ability to make a profit, not necessarily based on their artistic quality. Also, there’s no way, as of yet, to enforce that those who propose certain projects will deliver them or that they’ll meet the standards of the individuals who funded them.
Follow your dreams but stay grounded in reality
For fiction writers and film directors alike, huge mainstream success is usually not something that comes automatically, if at all. Success in general depends on maximizing options, making good choices and being adaptable to change. No author can bank on having their novel become an international bestseller. Similarly, no independent movie director can count on having their movie become a blockbuster and win prestigious awards. The odds of both are equivalent to winning the lottery. To go back to my modified quote by Lefty Gomez, you have to be both lucky and good to succeed, particularly on such a grand scale. Fortunately, in many respects, both writers and movie directors make their luck—or at least maximize their chances for success–by exploring the best and most realistic options for a fruitful collaboration that turns fiction into film.
Bogdan George Apetri’s film, Outbound (Periferic), represents the best of the new Romanian cinema. The movie, starring Ana Ularu and produced by Saga Film in collaboration with the Austrian company Aichholzer Filmproduktiion, is based on a short story co-written by Ioana Uricaru and the celebrated film director, Cristian Mungiu (which, however, Apetri stated that he changed radically). Like Mungiu’s prize-winning movies, Outbound shines in terms of its realistic characterizations and believable plot.
Outbound (Periferic) directed by Bogdan George Apetri
Before watching the film at the Romanian Film Festival in Ann Arbor, viewers also got the unique opportunity to meet the young director, hear him introduce the movie, and ask him questions. Eloquent, thoughtful, soft-spoken, very honest and with a clear sense of purpose, Apetri explained to us that his movie both fits in with and is different from the tradition of new Romanian cinema. After earning a law degree, Apetri left Romania at a young age, 25, to study at the Columbia University Film School and fulfill his long-time dream of becoming a movie director.
At that time, during the early 2000′s, there were almost no movies produced in Romania. By 2007, when Cristian Mungiu’s movie 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days won the prestigious Palme D’Or at the Cannes Film Festival, Romanian cinema came on strong in the international scene. It became known for its realistic depictions of the harsh realities of life, great acting and incredibly strong characterizations. Apetri also explained that Romanian cinema tends to have a “realistic” method of shooting, without a lot of cuts and editing, which is characteristic of American and Western European cinema. While his film, Outbound, is clearly situated in the context of new Romanian Cinema in terms of its realistic dialogue, situations and characterizations, it also relies upon a good amount of editing, so in that sense, we might say it’s “Americanized.” As a viewer who doesn’t know much about editing techniques, what truly stood out for me is this movie’s stark, almost brutal, realism and incredibly powerful characterizations.
The movie opens with Matilda, played by the actress Ana Ularu, being released from prison for 24 hours to attend her mother’s funeral. Apetri recalled during his introduction to the film that Ularu had been the penultimate actress in his casting calls. Within five minutes he knew, in his gut, that she was the main character, “Matilda”. His intuition didn’t do him wrong. Ana Ularu’s wild look and tough, urban mannerisms make her perfect for the role. From the start viewers get to see her as an opportunist, but also as genuinely downtrodden. Matilda doesn’t intend to just go to the funeral; it’s clear she wishes to use that as a pretext to make her escape. Her first move is to set up a meeting with a driver later on, in the port of Constanta, so she can take a boat abroad and avoid going back to prison to serve the rest of her sentence in Romania. Then she goes to visit her brother Andrei (played by Andi Vasluianu), who has a wife and son. She tells him that she came for their mother’s funeral, but Andrei is highly skeptical. She had never visited him without an ulterior motive, which was usually to ask for money. Despite knowing his sister’s self-serving intentions and despite the fact she only brought shame upon their family, Andrei shows some sympathy for Matilda.
Andrei’s wife Lavinia (played by Ioana Flora), however, being more emotionally detached and pragmatic, clearly rejects Matilda. She fights with her husband and wants to chase his delinquent sister away: partly because she doesn’t like her, and partly out of a the understandable desire to protect her son and family from her negative influence. Andrei’s ambivalence, as he’s torn between sympathy for his misfortunate sister and love for his family, is beautifully depicted. Matilda informs him that she didn’t come, this time, to ask for money. She wants him to adopt her eight year old son, Toma (played by Timotei Duma), whom she left with her sleazy lover and pimp, Paul (Mimi Branescu), until she herself gets out of prison. Up to that moment, Andrei didn’t even know that his sister had a son. Shocked by this news and by her proposition, he allows Lavinia to chase Matilda away by leading his wife to believe that his sister had come to ask them for money again. Though this is the easy way out of a very sticky and complex situation, it reveals more courage than cowardice since, as we later find out, Andrei’s instincts to protect his family prove correct.
One of the best characterizations in this movie is that of the sociopathic pimp, Paul. A Jekyll and Hyde personality–as sociopaths tend to be–Paul’s shown seducing a young prostitute he lives with and coaxing her into doing things against her best interest and will. For instance, although his prostitute-girlfriend is visibly shaken and scared, he cajoles her to agree to being beaten by a customer in exchange for a large sum of money, which the pimp quickly pockets. Though still in the wooing phase with his new young victim, Paul had long passed on to the devalue and discard phase with Matilda, who asks him for the money he promised her before she went to prison.Sly, cunning and shady, the pimp begins to engage in sophistry so he can get out of their deal. After a lot of haggling, they settle upon only a fraction of the money they had initially agreed upon. Once she sees that the perverted customer paid him a large sum, however, Matilda, hardly more ethical than Paul, begins to blackmail him with the crime–stabbing a man–she had committed presumably on the pimp’s behalf. They eventually get into a scuffle in the car over the money, the vehicle derails into a ditch and Paul, who hadn’t been wearing his seatbelt, dies in the accident.
Matilda then heads over for the orphanage to kidnap her son, Toma, from the orphanage where Paul had abandoned him. The film captures the corrupt and abject nature of the orphanage, where an older boy is already selling eight-year old Toma into prostitution. Like Gavroche in Les Miserables, Toma is a street-wise little urchin. Although Matilda succeeds in grabbing her son from the clutches of the older orphan who was prostituting him, her influence over Toma is only temporary. In the end, we see if a corrupt upbringing by a pimp father, a prostitute mother and the utmost neglect at the orphanage will prove more powerful than Matilda’s half-baked plan to turn a new leaf and lead a better life with her son abroad. This is no Manichean tale of good versus evil, however, but rather a struggle between one form of corruption over another.
Stark and poetic in its naturalism, Outbound is, in my opinion, a masterpiece in its characterizations, dialogue and capturing the feel of corruption and urban decay, universally, not just in Romania. As Apetri emphasized during his talk, this movie does not strive to represent Romanian society in general. Nor does Outbound make generalizations about the poor and downtrodden. In fact, I think its psychological profile of sociopaths trying to get ahead in the underbelly of post-communist Romanian society could easily apply to similar shady and unscrupulous characters who try to get ahead at the top of any society and government, in any country.
In my estimation, the best contemporary cinema is able to capture a specific context and situation so well that viewers can extrapolate far beyond that situation and characterizations to so many other human and social contexts they know. This is the crucial difference between generalization and universalization. Generalization claims one particular situation describes a whole country or people. As mentioned, Outbound doesn’t do that, nor do, for instance, Mungiu’s movies.Universalization, on the other hand, reveals common (or universal) human elements in the very specific situations and people depicted in a given novel or movie. Both Apetri and Mungiu’s films do this extremely effectively. Outbound’s characterizations are so accurate and realistic that viewers–no matter where they live, what socioeconomic background they come from, or what culture they’re influenced by–can identify with them. And I should add that realism is perhaps the highest artform.It takes a lot of talent to make a film which is made up of layers upon layers of very careful and minute artistic choices–from the story, to the script, to the actors, to the shooting, to the setting, to the costumes, to the music, to the long and arduous editing process–feel so real. This is why I consider Outboundan artistic masterpiece of realist cinema.
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