Coco Avant Chanel

Yesterday I cast in stone a decision to really do things my way and not to settle for pebbles. You see, tiny doubts and bad idea bears have crept around my cozy crypt (for alliteration’s sake), but not anymore. Do you even know how difficult it is to remain oneself in the world that is constantly harassing you to be a caricature of yourself? Dear Ralph Waldo Emerson said: “To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.”

Gabrielle Chanel did exactly that.

The first thing I did after watching Coco Avant Chanel is go to The Auteurs and add the film to my profile. There I saw 2-3 reviews by self-proclaimed cinephiles, saying they were disappointed about the lack of flair, flashy fashion and epicocity that the Paris fashion was then. What? Did you even read the title of the film!? The execution was subtle, and increasingly Chanelesque in composition and tone. Look what some idiot wrote: “Was expecting much more nuance and flair in the filmmaking, but all it contained were overdetermined references to Chanelesque style points: black & white, pearls, lace, and whatnot. Riveting?”  Gosh.

I viewed the whole story as a non-stop series of transformations; about the men and women, her surroundings and other elements that influenced her. Subtle, a little slow, but always emotionally vibrant. It’s also about true love, inspiration, determination and support. It’s not about how cool it must’ve been to be mademoiselle Chanel. It’s about being a strong woman going against the current. At least in my opinion.

In fact, what people labeled “plainliness”, I called elegance. Where some were looking for color and fluff, I was sensing the weight and texture, to somewhat speak in fashion terms. I loved Audrey Tautou; in my world she is on par with Anouk Aimee and Anna Karina. I think we all fell for Alessandro Nivola’s  (Yale grad btw) character a little too. But my favorite part is that it was not a rags to riches via marriage (thus complete denial of Gabrielle’s self) story, but a rags to riches via unrestrained imagination, hard work and daring to be different.

Filed under: film , beauty, development, fashion, film, movie, self, work

30 Min Wonder Walk

I love walking. More than that, I love walking in (downtown) Toronto. Last month I decided that – as much as possible, – I will walk from work to home. The walk is 3.0km, from Yorkville’s Bay & Bloor to Chinatown’s residence of mine. Some days I leave work at 6pm, tired or mildly frustrated (work is never stressful… yet ), but 5 minutes into the walk, I lighten up.By the time I get home, I’m skipping a little to my music, I smile to myself and all you passers-by, and damn, I’m just happy to be alive.

I also LOVE you Toronto. I’ve a feeling you love me back. But every time I walk this little route, I just feel it more and more, and if I had to settle in Canada, I’d probably settle here.

I walk west on Bloor and smile at the sun that sets right against my eyes, and I look at beautiful or gaudy things in the window shops. I understand why (target buying demographic) there are old, square and absurd jackets in the Chanel display and why Gucci reeks of slut, and why Lacoste is borderline soro/fraternity preppy (there’s another angle to this). It doesn’t matter – by the time I pass the Royal Conservatory, I’m enamored with fleets of Rolls Royce, Jaguar, BMW, Audi; there are valet figurines everywhere. Ah, smile smile smile on.

Jocks on the football field, Rotman, Bata shoe museum. Every time I walk down St George, I am reminded of my UBC days. But this is better because I don’t go there anymore. I see passers-by and I can almost picture their personalities – here is a future management accounting titan, he’s wearing a mismatched shirt and tie, but the KPMG recruiters will forgive him. He listens to music that’s five years behind, but he reads all the right publications, he gets enough rest before exams and does not party on the weekend. And there’s our running athlete on the right, a beautiful freshman girl who broke up with her boyfriend when she left her small town. Toronto is a little bit intimidating, but watching Sex and the City with fellow dorm girls and running on weeknights (when there are no group meetings!) helps her forget him.

On and on. I love all these sights, and I love my city, and I love what I do, what I am, where I am, who I’m surrounded by. And so, whatever non-positive mood I was in 30 minutes ago dissipates completely, and I’m bouncing off the walls, throwing pink marshmallows in the air!

Filed under: simple life , love, memories, toronto

Two Key Slow Art Pieces

I’m hosting Slow Art Toronto this Saturday, October 17, at 11:30am at the Art Gallery of Ontario. I selected 10 pieces for review, with 2 special works that everyone must view as they will be central to our debate.

These works by two Canadians resonated with me the most during my recent visit to the AGO. I got quite descriptive with them, but you’ll see why and how it’s worth it.

1. William Kurelek “The Rock” (1962)

For William Kurelek, art was means to express his fundamentalist Christian faith and his apocalyptic vision of human destiny. He was born in a Ukrainian settlement in Alberta to a family of hard-working farming parents. His interest in art stemmed from the early age, but was no approved by his father. Kurelek studied at the Ontario College of Art, as well as the Instituto Allende in Mexico. He was extremely thin-skinned and found forming personal relations almost impossible. That lead to a severe depression and a subsequent psychiatric hospitalization in the UK.

Kurelek identified strongly with Van Gogh. His work, however, was largely influenced by Hieronymus Bosch and Pieter Bruegel. His deeply affecting Roman Catholic visions definitely contrast the memories of his childhood in the Canadian prairies. In fact, two themes in his paintings have always been:

1. Recollection of aspects of his own and his parents’s lives in rural Canada
2. Didactic, apocalyptic vision of a materialistic society doomed to destruction to attain salvation

Hence the seemingly contrasting set of artworks at the Thomson room at the AGO.

The Rock is an interesting piece – it’s a vivid painting of…a rock that’s standing strong amid the gurgling fire and lava below it. Hideous Boschian monsters float in the red burning mess, trying to throw spears at the rock and the church that’s standing on it. Look closely and you will notice demon spears adorned with “bad things” like racial intolerance, apostasy, ghetto mentality, sodomy, political intrigue, nationalism, sloth and the like. Upper part of the piece is adorned with floating angels and the crossed keys of St Peter.

More than anything, I find the detail, vivid color and the deep exploration of the subject the most appealing aspects of the work. I also think it’s the most compelling piece in the William Kurelek room in the Art Gallery of Ontario. Feel free to study Kurelek’s other works in the room and compare. I feel Kurelek is the lesser known and underrepresented artist in the history of Canadian painting, so perhaps we could address the issue by studying his work.

2. David Altmejd “The Index” (2007)

The Index is a quite bizarre and macabre artwork, a phantasmagoric aviary of mutant birds, combining the horrific with the sublime. To me personally, it feels as a forest life gone incredibly wrong, warped, exploded, twisted and Frankenstein-ized by injections of primal and mythological symbolism. There are enough details, vivid imagery and fascinating forest creatures to keep anyone glued to (and walking in and around) the piece for at least half an hour. It’s a complex, crystal-infected, flesh-slicing and intoxicating work of art that excites and horrifies at the same time. In this work, the recognizable and the prosaic suddenly and violently materialize into the imaginary.

David Altmejd himself: “A lot of people think that I’m really fascinated by death and morbidity, but I’m much more interested in life. I just think that things look more alive when they’re growing on top of what’s dead,” he says, bending his fingers to mimic blades of growing grass. He’s had a lasting interest in Kiki Smith and Louise Bourgeois. His work, I find, hovers between object and installation; he constructs large stages and elevated platforms and presents his myriad of organic and fetishistic forms in a seeming display of luxury.

He arranges many smaller parts and delicate details in a logic of a film, so that the viewer feels he/she unravels the mystery themselves. What kind of mystery? What is this sense of dread that creeps along our spines as we walk by endless reflections in opposing mirrors, shocked by wolves pierced by shards? What is this ecstatic celebration of the instant in which everything is between two states. Let’s discuss all that this Saturday at the Art Gallery of Ontario!

It was quite the talked about piece during the Venice Biennale in 2007. A Montreal native and a Columbia University M.F.A., Altmejd lives and works in New York. Here is a slideshow of some of his work, I highly recommend you see it.

Filed under: art , art, canada, education, slowart, toronto

Quadruple Myself

I am a sucker for photo apps. If you didn’t know, back in the day I used to be heavy into photography, including spending my high school lunch hours in the darkroom, looking at photo books, magazines, walking around the city experimenting with shots, learning Photoshop a year prior taking photography class so that I’d be prepared to edit the negatives… Anyway, I love photos, taking photos and playing with photo toys.

I bought a QuadCamera iPhone app for $1.99 and, when it doesn’t freeze my screen, it is a fun little application. I think it requires way too much iPhone thinking power to work smoothly; sad story. Last night Josue took some fun shots of me and Lisa, and I thought I’d share them. Apparently there are not enough photos of self on this personal blog, har har.

The cool thing is, this app will give you both lomo-style four shots AND a gif file! You can select the desired filter and really experiment. Below are some shots of me horsing around According to Josue, “i’m really good at this”.

And nowwwww, the gifs!

Having a seizure yet?

Filed under: Great Products , fun, iphone, photography, photos, self, technology, toronto

Book/Film Re-Runs

Catholic guilt is the term used to identify the supposed excess guilt felt by Catholics and lapsed Catholics. The term catholic guilt is controversial as it is not clearly differentiated from the guilt felt by members of other religions or moral codes. Says Wikipedia. This term is too strong for this post, but I use it when describing my feelings towards other things. Moreover, I’m not even Catholic.

I have a problem with watching the same film, or, worse, reading the same book, over and over and over because I’m acutely aware of the lack of time in a life (add to that the daily-changing probabilities of a sudden, tragic or freak death, accident or a negative surprise; life gets even shorter), and I feel that spending time re-reading the best book in the world will handicap me in my quest for self-development, entertainment and the general betterment.

If I get my mittens on a much beloved DVD, I don’t watch it right away (unless I’m trying to educate fellow bright minds during their visits to my pixie palace). I set it aside and feel torn between it (the personally approved) and the unseen latest and greatest (at least critically acclaimed or much-recommended, or “really important as per some weirdos” works). It’s not so difficult with films. I end up plowing through the cinematic world with no problem, catching both old and new, but rarely on repeat.

I have never re-read a book. I have absolute favorites, with highlighted passages, scribbles, smiley faces and comments in the margins, but I never read them again. I covet them, place them on display, and recommend left-right-center, but that’s it. Time is too precious. On top of that, I do remember the story line and have selected quotes written in my secret book.

I also rarely read contemporary fiction, because there is a higher probability that I won’t like it. Would I rather spend time on something that’s received a Nobel prize in Literature (check out the list, if you’ve got no author to read), something that inspires a dozen+ of other cultural pieces, or something that’s recently become a NY Times bestseller (which, by the looks of it, is every fiction book at Chapters). I pick 100 Years of Solitude over Life of Pi; I will sweat and labor over William Faulkner than surrender to Dan Brown. Does this make me some kind of a psychotic nut? Hey… I can just wait and give all this contemporary stuff 50 years and see where it gets them

In the dark ages of the past, I have been guilty of watching Titanic (I said it! I was twelve!), The Fifth Element, La Dolce Vita, 8 1/2, Hercules (Go Disney!), Coraline, The Hole very frequently. These movies are only 5% reflective of my favorites. My favorite movie of all times – Ingmar Bergman’s The Seventh Seal, – was probably watched thrice in my lifetime. That’s it. What is the correlation between favorite films/books and those that I actually watched many, many times? Probably has to do with young age and having a lot more time dedicated to havoc and idleness (although I read!) vs now.

PS. Last contemporary book I’ve read was Pride & Prejudice & Zombies (hey, it was featured in episode 1 of Heroes, Season4). And it was awesome. Can we please have more remixing of old and new? I do like some light beach reading (poetry, Lewis Carroll), don’t get me wrong.

Filed under: film, literature , film, literature, memories, movies, obsessions, self