Clouds of Sils Maria

Clouds of Sils Maria is a wonderful movie which I happened to see because Andras Laszlo won some tickets from Radio Klara ( the classical and culture radio) for a special viewing in Antwerp. Juliet Binoche and actually all the other actors gave us their very best performance. I loved the movie because of ts layers of meaning and how to read them. The story is about an aging actress who is offered the role of an older woman Helena in the play she starred in as the younger actress Sigrid. She has to accept an award for the author of the play who on that very night commits suicide. A new production is planned and with her PA, Kristen Steward, the content and the way of performing the roles are discussed and different interpretations, aging, resiting the passing of time, reading in a totally different way what the play is about, kind of being stuck in the past interpretation of the younger actress she was.. Different options come to surface. For the older actress it is a harsh confrontation. So you have the 'real life' dialogs and the dialogs of the play she is studying. Both elements sharpening the relationship between  the actress and the PA. During a walk wanting to see the snake of clouds coming flowing through the pass the PA disappears... No clue whether she just turns back, commits suicide, falls, or is murdered... This is good, leaves open different readings of the interactions between the two women. The brilliant PA shows the actress how differently one can read the story. So reality, the play, different visions about acting and personal relations, it all becomes a heady mix. I loved the movie, I enjoyed the spectacular views of the swiss alps which also perform their role to perfection as all the actors did.

Ruhrort II- The art exhibits and some permormances

Since some Native poetry would be read in its German translation, the artists decided upon the theme of 'wild animal meadow' since many of the artist had work with animals in them. Ralf Luttman made the Ostrich and got it finished in time. Claudia Sper was given a lot of animal pelts by a furrier and made tis tunning costume. Horst Weichbrodt made these ladies with flowers...

Many of these artist work with found objects, with land art, driftwood,  tree trunks, clay, particle wood, cork and glass marbles to bring light in the work as Horst does.
The shortest photo exhibition ever was under the the tent: black and white digitally enhanced with crows in every picture. That is the trademark of HH Bergmann.
World Internet Books is where the books are published.

 A lady we recently met, through the cute black dog she had turned  out to be an artist and poet as well so Sabina also read some of her poetry of sudden insights and musings.
We started out in the program with "Sounds of Harbor' reading with a bunch of people in German the poem called 'TIDE', written by six authors from four countries...

I love this arc by Florian Waldhof and the kids: he made the boat out of a trunk and the children made the peoples and animals in clay for the arc. I love the detail in this way of showing that the animals and the people are leaving the arc. The desaster is behind them, they have survived!
Musician singer songwriter Ilona Vildebrandt entertained us all with her heartfelt renderings of her songs.

The one in the middle is Fred Schywek, organizer and poet, Florian, on the right and Heiko, devil does all in the middle.I thank all for working together to make this happen in the beautiful way it did.

No internet but a lot of nice things... in Ruhrort

Having been on the road in North Rhine Westphalia I rediscover the world without Internet and the world of hyper security: not one open hot spot, nothing coming in on my phone... Yet a lot is happening there in the region where artists and writers seem to flock. A bunch of "mafia knitters" are trying to soften this rather masculine environment where the rogue TV policeman Schimanski had his job cut out in getting the bad guys. In wool with flowers and gentle colors they soften this place of steel and stone.
And of course water is abundant  at the confluence of Rhine and Ruhr. It is a downtrodden area with cheap rent. The empty shop windows can be rented easily as a showplace for one's work. Of course there are improvised parties, people bringing food and drinks, grill on the roof in the old town. There is a proposal to classify Ruhrort as cultural heritage since many of the houses in 'Grunder style' still exist. Of course all the water most cellars are damp... On Easter Sunday among others these people will perform as poets or exhibit their art. I saw a beautiful cooperation where one hustled a tent ( there was a strong wind, but we were spared the rain), where another brought a small scene to stand on. Some brought enough food to share... I thank all.

Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui: Venn

Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui will be awarded the title of Maestro Honoris Causa by the "Stichting Conservatorium Antwerp. The production Venn which some of us saw thanks to the vice president of said foundation just blew me away. It was moving, funny, spectacular, intimate, beyond beautiful, and splendidly danced by the young group of dancers. The music and voices were of the same quality. The harp and the percussion, the violin, alt-violin and cello where so right for the sublime choreography of Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui. The sober light effects and stage supported in every way the sometimes exuberant, sometimes overwhelming, sometimes funny or intimate scenes. I also fell for the silent and spoken parts where the gesture was before words came about. No pictures of this public try out,  yet the images I saw I won't forget. If you have a chance, go to one of the performances. You'll come out fulfilled and more complete. The dance dealt with a new interpretation of different themes from Foi, Origine and Orbo Novo. The energy on the scene is wonderful and gives so much to the audience that we can deal with the onset of winter. Iris Bouche has woven all the elements together in a grand performance of all.

Sequenza: afterthoughts

With a book title like Sequenza it was to be expected that the presentation would equal a musical orgy for the crowd of lovers of Marleen de Crée's poetry. Of course we had the symbolic empty chair for Liu Xiaobo, Nobel laureate for Literature still in a Chinese jail. Such a symbolic gesture is something we try to do for different writers when they are in prison for using their freedom of expression. The surprise for me was Vlad Weverbergh in the moving, masterly way he performed Sequenza IXa by Berio. Not easy music, but listening made easy by the clarinetist. Marleen and I read her formidable poetry: she in Dutch and I in English. Frank De Vos, our den Hopsack troubadour, offered a moving new song: Waving at 12b, conceived in the room his mother was slowly leaving this world in. The friends and fans of Marleen were a great audience, listened very attentively and afterwards even spoke about the differences between languages, loyalty to the original, rhythms... And then the party started and a good time was had by all. Yesterday the first poem of the book, today the last in both languages:

over de bruggen schuift
de schaduw voor ons uit.
wij kunnen hem niet horen.
hij snijdt tot op het been.
we slaan de armen om het kind.
het hinkelt in de sterren
als waren wij nog niet geboren.
we leggen onze stemmen neer
voor het licht de ogen sluit.
onder de bruggen stroomt het lied,
slingert het in zachte plooien,
zingt, huivert en fluistert weer
in schaduwen die ons niet
toebehoren. daar zijn we samen
daar gingen we heen.
* 

over  the bridges glides

the shadow before us.

we cannot hear it.

it cuts to the bone.

we put our arms around the child.

it plays hopscotch in the stars

as if we hadn’t been born yet.

we lay down our voices

before the light closes the eyes.

under bridges flows the song,

meanders in soft folds,

sings, shivers and whispers again

in shadows which don’t belong

to us. there we are together

that is where we were going.

Poetry day

Tomorrow it is poetry day and all over The Netherlands and Flanders a myriad of poetry readings and performances have been scheduled. One can however see that there is the official part of literature with the established names like Anna Enquist who writes this year's poetry day present 'Een kooi van klank' A cage of sound, a title referring to the chosen theme: music.  On the other hand there are the multifaceted poets like performance poets, who are loud and forceful and do perform well and the more intimate poets who all will be reading and sharing their thoughts and feelings. The smaller readings are in brown cafés, more informal and certainly closer to the audience. This however says nothing about the quality of the poets performing for instance in Den Hopsack. They chose to ask eight poets who published in the idiosyncratic literary magazine 'Gierik/Nieuw Vlaams Tijdschrift': Vera Alexander Beerten; Guy Commerman (co-founder of the magazine); Sven Cooremans; Richard Foqué; René Hooyberghs; Sven Peeters; Annmarie Sauer and Tin Vankerkom. I do appreciate the poetry of all of them and do look forward to reading with and listening to my colleagues. Den Hopsack, 8 15 PM. Hope to see you there.

Zygomatik: Piet Verbist in quintet

The zygomaticus major is the muscle in your face from kind of your temple to your mouth. The zygomaticus minor is the one going to  the lower part of your face: together they make all expressions. So actually Zygomatik is a great name for a very expressive Jazz cd. Piet Verbist is the leader of the group, performing on Sunday morning as a quintet. Words that come up while thinking of the concert are:
Full
power
unpretentious high quality
expressive
jazz funk
rock
Above and Beyond brings the fragility of bow on strings, from lust to lost, the drums gather and accent the delicacy of the quintet. Their names: Herman Pardon on the drums, Bram Weyters piano, Vincent Brijs and Matt Renzi (San Francisco) bass and tenor sax...
The 4th piece had a genteel start, hands on drum, almost oriental, in a beautifully structured time and improvisation and thereafter we fall into Piet's magnificent: PMS Alert! read: Piet's Manic Scream Alert! Belief me it was like a rush, soft and wild in the discipline of a musical structure. Great stuff!

Friday night in Brussels

Rain, wind and darkness, dangerous driving by tired lorries swerving out of their lane and the expected standstill on the roads into Brussels. One of the tunnels into town was closed off because of a European Summit meeting. Yet following the signs for the detours, I ended up in the tunnel and got well in time to the salons of the Liaison Office Brussels-European Union where the reading was to be held. The languages used that evening where: French, English, Portuguese, Italian, Spanish - in the Chilean variety which I love, Dutch, German, Alsatian, Romanian and Greek (both old and new). It was lovely to listen to the former or still active ‘Eurocrats’ who all defended their creative irk against or not withstanding hard work and a no-nonsense atmosphere when at work. The poems were always read first in its original language and then in a translation. Some people also sculpt or paint, or do graphics, make  music. The singer, Hugo Bossut, we were sorry to hear, was ill, some people, seen the chaos on the road didn’t make it. Yet there was a good group of excellent listeners. I had been involved with the Literary circle over 20 years ago and then lapsed. Finding in a publication a poem by Huguette Bastin, who was my contact then, I decided to contact her. Thus I ended  up as the mystery guest at the end of an evening. Huguette did a wonderful job introducing her colleagues, keeping time gently. The way she presented and interviewed me was delightful. She read the Dutch versions of my poems and I read them in my variety of Mid-Atlantic English: too European for Chloride, Arizona, too American for sensitive British ears. People were generous with kind comments and some even bought Traces/Sporen, published by world-internet-books.com. So it turned out to be a happy evening with light refreshments afterwards and conversations with interesting people.
My colleagues that evening were: Danial Guggenbühl, Catherine Koecks and Archie Clarke, Frederique Frahan-Dupont and Bruno Delmotte, Joqé Ponce Vicencio, Andrei-Paul Corescu, Paolo Pego, Fontini, Chiou, Isabelle Bielecki and Huguette Bastin. The second name always is the one having done or reading the translations.

poetry in translation and life - Live

During the last week I have been translating poetry by Rose Vandewalle., by Sinzo Aanza., proofreading a Dutch - German translation by Annie Reniers, so keeping  up the blog was on the back burner. Too many words, too many languages, all the layers of meaning and the possibilities.... Yet tomorrow in Brussels I will be closing a European poetry reading. The theme is multi-linguism. All poets will be reading in their own language and some will also read translations. Since in Traces/Sporen, produced by world-internet-books. I wrote part of the poetry in Dutch and part in English the organizer wanted to talk about about writing in two languages. The interview at the start will be in French, she will read the Dutch poems she has chosen from the book and I will read in English. It is exciting and I look forward to this evening. I am curious about the other poets, the other languages and how the atmosphere will be. The reading starts at 7 30 pm: Oudergemlaan 63, 1040 Brussels (Bureau de Liaison Europe-Brussels, Belgium).  May be we'll meet there.

Cinema Inch'Allah

There are good day’s to be taken out of one’s own world and to be introduced to another. On such a day an invitation  from my daughter to join her and go and view a documentary by Vincent  Coen  & Guillaume Vandenberghe was welcome, also because mu curiosity was peaked by the title of the documentary. The film team followed over a couple of years four Belgo-Moroccan filmmakers living in Brussels. They started as teenagers with a small handheld camera, filching it every time the father, rightful owner of it, wasn’t around. In the course of the documentaries we see the evolution in the camera’s they acquired. It is a generous movie: we gain an insight in the otherwise closed world of Moroccan families. We see the difference in treatment of a daughter and the wife of the same man. We see the longing of a mother to become a grandma and admonishing her son the get on with it. Doing it in a a formalized way so that it looks almost like she acted her request with typical ways of moving and of looking. We also see Brussels, to many Flemish people an extraneous entity from where the country is governed and where the royal family lives. We also witness the personal crises of Farid: from the bad relationship with his family when filming and starting to question whether it is ‘halal’ to film at all since Islam forbids the portrayal of anything living. So he radicalizes and this is a bit too prominent in the documentary. For instance the success of the actor Reda is all but lost. The four friends have several films under their belt, projecting their fears and hopes. The wonderful thing is that they show the prejudices which are held against the Moroccan community and by making their films, they claim the right to define themselves.Worth while!

Theater play: FLOU - (Blurred)

The author of this strangely beautiful play is actress Abke Haring performing together with Han Kerkhoffs the play FLOU. In a disquieting opening with electronic music the two actors stand absolutely still next to each other holding hands. The rectangle on the floor and the floating roof above their life represents an abstract home. During the music drops fall in an array of glass containers. The roof leaks. The couple battles out their pain in a discouraging silence. The repetitive dialogs are pure poetry. His unwillingness to speak is magnified by her voicing his thoughts which he calls nagging in the drip drop on the stage. There is a moving part when they put small glass saucers under falling drops - yet they fail doing it together. Grim. The two longer monologues of the man are very sexual in a strangely ordinary language, talking as he is about wild sex in the deep freeze compartment of the supermarket. His language here is coarse, uncaring about her feelings. Every kind of frozen or fresh produce is used in this wild fantasy of an impromptu encounter with a past flame. At the same time it is almost hilarious. Yet it is obvious the couple doesn't have a lot of sex, or anything else with each other but being stuck, powerless to go or to let go, unable to be fulfilled by each other. The whole performance is punctuated by long eloquent silences, communicating something important, they are unable to share. Towards the end the woman asks to let her grow in 'a being without words', thus seeking the ultimate intimacy of being understood and understanding without words. Words have been used before, are charged and therefore treacherous. Yet this kind of silence would also be a hell of loss, emptiness, and a disappearing self... An intriguing performance balancing, as the author qualifies it, between duet and duel.