A few hours at Nostromo-Gatwick

The reason why so many new posts got published the same day is a few hour stay at a Yotel Japanese-like cabin at Gatwick airport after missing the morning Ryanair flight to Madrid. While the next flight arrived I got myself into this underwater environment out of sheer curiosity - and was awarded a free wi-fi connection so I'm updating a few pending posts...



Lights are so dim and full of purples, pinks, pale greens and light blues here it's kind of a spaceship-like experience (actually 2001-inspired I'd say). No-one around, total silence except for the soft, regular air conditioning blowing, it's just the right place for all these fantasies coming to haunt you...



Was looking for Liutenant Ripley around the corners, but she seems to be on duty. Dommage...



By the way isn't Nostromo a much properer name for this place than Yotel? It was probably taken already though.

Geopolitics: some orange lessons

Even if it's against the message in that brilliant Orange anti-Orange turn-off-your-mobile-phone Gulliver-based commercial starred by Jack Black running on film theatres these days (I saw it last night), I'm attaching this Orange ad I saw at Nairobi airport on my way out for you don't get to see this things around in Western countries.



Don't mean we should - we have more than our fair share of anxieties already as to have posts on the walls to remind we're no longer what we used to be (don't think the average person should care too much about it either).

It's just so unusual to get your geopolitics lessons from ads rather than, say, at school!

First flag from the left is by the way Uganda's - there for closeness with Kenya I guess, rather than matching India or China as emerging powers (though you never really know these days...)

Airports and smoking (II): Dubai International Airport, Dubai, UAE

While in trasit from Nairobi at Dubai International Airport, I figured out it would be a good chance to have a cigarrette between two six-hour flights. Dubai airport being so really luxurious, it seemed it should offer equally attractive facilities to smokers in need. However, it was not the case. After a long walk through several terminals where departures gradully changed from LHR to Jaffa, you reached a small, incredibly packed and smoky room where poor addicts somehow managed to get their dose in. The “Keep door closed at all times” sign posted at the room entrance was literally impossible to respect under serious risk of suffocation.



This gave me the idea of sarting a series of photographs on smoking rooms in airports worldwide. Not than I’m too much of a traveller anyway, but I’m around every now and then. For instance, it’s widely accepted the best smoking facilities inside an airport are those ones at Barajas airport Terminal 4 in Madrid – Spain currently remaining smoker-friendly territory (not for that long though).



So this is Dubai International Airport, where a rather numerous group of rebel smokers chose to have their cigarrettes outside a specific smoking room which lied quite distant from crowded passenger traffic areas (well it was actually 5 am so crowded is a just a way of speaking).

Airports and smoking (I): Gatwick airport, London, UK

From a strictly mathematical point of view –set theory basics– a smoke ban “either within or outside a building” does actually imply a global ban – as either you are inside or outside the building.



So I was trying to locate the border between inside and outside areas, for it should be the only site where smoking is implicitly allowed. I noticed however fellow passengers weren’t being so literal about it...

La gloria del barroco

Magnífica exposición sobre el barroco de los ss. XVII y XVIII en Valencia. Gran acierto la distribución de la muestra entre cuatro maravillosos edificios - tres iglesias y un edificio civil, el Almudín. Singular simetría en las iglesias barrocas valencianas: interiores que estallan en asombroso despliegue polícromo de figuras, volutas, capiteles, púlpitos y recargadas ornamentaciones quedan ocultos tras sobrios exteriores de ladrillo que no permiten imaginar lo que hay en su interior (herencia árabe? todos estos edificios eran de hecho árabes - toda la ciudad probablemente).

Espléndido despliegue también de obras de arte seleccionadas para el evento - una
estupenda ocasión para conocer los nombres de notables escultores o pintores de los que uno nunca oyó hablar anteriormente. Hay piezas muy destacadas - la que más, probablemente el soberbio Sant Andreu de lo Spagnoletto trabajando en claroscuro à la Caravaggio.



Y tan importante como las obras expuestas es un aspecto que queda un poco en segundo plano ante el despliegue artístico: la hercúlea labor de restauración llevada a cabo por el proyecto La Llum de les Imatges, premiado con el Europa Nostra en 2006. La magnitud del trabajo de restauración y divulgación efectuado es digno del premio Príncipe de Asturias como ejemplo de cómo se afronta la recuperación de un patrimonio artístico severamente dañado. Con independencia de la opinión personal que cada uno tenga en el ámbito político, una actuación de esta naturaleza trasciende dicho ámbito para constituir en suma un trabajo muy bien hecho.

Refraining...

As he gently took part in a talk with the audience after his film was screened, I was about to ask Vahid Vakilifar, screenwriter and first-time director of Iranian film Gesher on his opinion on the difficult relations of Iranian filmmakers with their government, specially after Ahmadineyad is portrayed in the film while announcing the "pious, young Iranian scientists" having made it towards uranium centrifugation.

After listening it took him and his team three days to get to San Sebastian Film Festival "through all possible transportation means except maybe a camel" I thought it twice and decided not to be rude on a first-timer who politely explained technical challenges for video-shooting his independent film at the highly-surveilled PSEEZ petrochemical industry location (Asaluyeh, southern Iran). But I will indeed ask him if I meet him along remaining days at the venue.

Is cinema dying?

I was gathering new entries a few days ago for this 'dictionary of our times' I want to put together at some point. Along with some other issues that shoudn't really belong here such as 'Fame, Industry thereof', 'Greed' (not precisely Von Stroheim's), 'Marketing mayhem', 'Print on the crack and related fears', etc, one of the entries was as a matter of fact the one in the title of this post. Well Donostia Film Festival should be the right place to find out.



Don't know about the town you live in, but in mine cinemas are currently under siege. Plenty of then have closed down, others seem to be running on automatic pilot with an ever decreasing audience and some of them have already started to screen opera performances or Champions League football games instead of films. Only those which were never particularly successful do actually survive in a rather healthy fashion: small arthouses relying on their faithful alternative audiences (joined by a growing number of say non-alternative moviegoers these days as well - the whole point of attracting spectators is indeed about imagination).

So here we are at the film factory exit door - watching brand new models as they come out, paint still wet on them. And know what? They're as good as they ever were. Take yesterday's survey for example: a fine new outcome from the Eastern Europe film powerhouse (from Bulgaria this time, but there's another Rumanian film everyone's talking about which I still didn't have the chance of see) and yet another rock solid Danish film from Zentropa factories. Many others on the go by the way, only it was just my first day and it was such a sunny one too!

So it's crystal clear now the problem lies not at production stage. The films are there as always were, or even more for the sake of globalisation, which will allow stories from virtually any part of the world to reach mainstream events such as this one. Filmmakers and producers keep the flame alive with whatever budget they manage to make up (TV networks often providing required scaffold). But difficulties do come up somewhere down the road, presumably both at distribution and exhibition phases. I wouldn't say the situation is critical, but its evolution is indeed very worrying and the issue is not easy to tackle (incidentally: it's not all about film piracy on the web).

So the San Sebastian Festival hosted this EFP all-morning meeting yesterday under title "European Film Promotion: Promotion and Marketing of European Films Worldwide" for discussing the reasons why "the majority of European films still do not find their way into the cinemas outside of their home territories". Ten independent distributors from ten different European countries were expected to discuss the potential of new technical formats, social community platforms and business models. I wasn't there, shame on me, but exclusive interviews with selected distributors will be published at cineuropa.org some time in the near future. We should keep an eye on those ones for the meeting outcomes and good ideas on film distribution.

From queues at Victoria Eugenia to Kutxa.net: a sentimental journey

I’ve been attending this Film Festival for over 20 years now and I’ve seen it change (read ‘Jack Lemmon did never dine here’ by former Festival manager Diego Galan for an amusing story of a decade of celebrities, political violence and lots, lots of fun). And to me no change compares to the establishing of the online system for selling tickets by local Kutxa a few years ago. In the old times one would have to queue up at the Festival facilities or at the designated Kutxa office for getting tickets along the established timetable. All of that vanished the day tickets started being sold through the internet on a typical 24/7 basis.


The results were predictable: lots of sessions were sold out even before the Festival started. Non-adjusting oldtimers suddenly risked missing most expected titles because of the digital fever (the Ryanair model, I’d call it), so there was a pressing need to know what the most expected titles actually were just as they were announced by the Festival organisation. Webpages became therefore some kind of a treasure. I’d bet (though don’t know for sure) the rate of ticket sales rose through the roof as well – it’s so amazingly simple to get yours now.

But Donostia cares about its oldtimers, and wouldn’t turn its back on them by preventing them to enjoy the quiet walk towards the Festival HQs in order to buy a ticket from a human being. A given percentage of tickets shall always be available for direct sale before any film. So everyone happy (the bank above all, for it will charge a little extra expense for the online service) and free way to cinephilia for everyone.

Un trazo azul en el patchwork verdiamarillo

[Post invitado: por R.A., editora en jefe de 'Andaduras asimétricas']


A tiempo para que todos los habitantes del pueblo, residentes o visitantes de temporada, pudieran proceder a estrenarla, el pasado sábado 31 de julio se inauguraba en Tébar (Cuenca) la nueva piscina municipal. En tiempos de penuria presupuestaria de las corporaciones locales, es muy de agradecer que la alcaldesa de la localidad manchega lograra cumplir los plazos de entrega establecidos tras un asombroso acelerón final -nadie que hubiera visto el estado de las obras apenas un mes antes podría haber apostado por tan rápida inauguración. Es cierto que todavía no esta plantado el césped que rodeará el precioso vaso de 25 x 12.5 m, y que la aledaña piscina para niños tendrá que esperar aún cierto tiempo hasta hacerse realidad, pero la calidad de vida en el pueblo ha mejorado sensiblemente gracias a la nueva instalación deportiva y de ocio.

Por seguir el tópico -en este caso real como la vida misma-, diariamente se dan cita en ella niños y mayores de todas las edades, para tomar el sol o para hacer un poco de ejercicio, para disfrutar del fantástico paisaje de campo abierto o para paladear unas cervecitas en el chiringuito de la instalación (todavía temporal y un poco precario, pero el año que viene será mejor). Y el no saber nadar ya no es excusa para no visitarla: se ha diseñado un doble turno matinal y vespertino de clases de natación para que tod@s aquell@s que hasta ahora no tuvieron ocasión puedan aprovechar para aprender, que nunca es tarde, y más si puede hacerse en compañía de vecin@s y amig@s.

Pese a lo que dicen las malas lenguas, no hay elecciones municipales a la vista en Tébar. Y tampoco son ciertas las habladurías que afirman que la alcaldesa ha emprendido tras la inauguración unas largas vacaciones con destino desconocido para esquivar la avalancha de sugerencias y peticiones de nuevas infraestructuras para la localidad tras el éxito de la piscina - que por cierto, carece de nombre. Con nombre o sin él, la piscina de Tébar es de lejos la mejor de la comarca. Estáis tod@s invitad@s a comprobarlo, pero tendréis que apresuraros porque, salvo cambios de última hora, la fecha de cierre de las instalaciones para este verano es el próximo martes 31 de agosto!

Searching for image patterns

Just like anybody else these days, I've become a compulsive user of web browsers for locating that piece of information I need to know in this particular minute. Due however to professional profile and miscellaneous personal interests, my searching gets usually quite ellaborate (probably like anyone else's after all, these days). But no matter how complicated the query gets (to some extent), I still keep being supplied accurate answers and suggestions: say I suddenly feel the urge to know current European record holder for the 1500 m freestyle swimming while I'm watching the race in Budapest? Wikipedia will tell me before the race leader hits next wall. I want to know what Jeff Spender's precise words were at Ray Bradbury's 'The martian chronicles'? There's wikipedia once again hinting the right lines. I vaguely remember there was a woman, a humble merchant in Genoa, who spent her whole lifetime saving, a penny here a penny there, for having her favourite sculptor carve her statue for placing it at her tomb in Genovese Staglieno cemetery once she died? Google will give me her name and a photograph of both her statue and tomb inscription - even if I won't be able to remember what the local Molly Malone's actual trade was - nor much less her name!! (that one did actually bring tears into my eyes).

It's a matter of building up the right query, my non-believer friends will tell me. Right. It is. And still - it got so damned perfectioned lately it actually makes you shiver out of sheer thrill (leave aside controversial issues just for a minute).

I'm amazed alright. But I need yet a step further. I deal with images quite a lot (logos, pictures, film scenes, that kind of stuff) and I want to be able to search for them through their patterns - this or that particular detail in them. Tagging's a step in the right direction -there's my non-believer folks again- but tagging's miles away from what I'd like. It's as far away as a baby's dear mumbling can be from a classroom lecture (a good one, that is).

Take for instance this network named CLARA. CLARA is a Latin American organisation of education, innovation and research-focused national IT networks (quite a breakthrough by the way). But let's imagine -shame on me- I meet some new lady and I forget Clara's actual name - there's still that lovely tracing in its logo I can't possibly forget while I live. Just an ondulating red line - praise graphic designers. But you can't query that kind of information in a browser, or at
least not yet. And tagging... well tagging might do if we had the right tagging codes - and that's what I'd like to discuss here.

I'm sure there's quite a bunch of computer masterminds currently tackling this issue at proper places (say Pixar for instance). There's possibly some kind of beta version already running somewhere -its use likely to be nevertheless restricted to graphic design professionals and experts for the time being (we may have to learn some new tagging language in the future same way we learned html in the past). Well here are some ideas I keep chewing at every now and then:

• Some AutoCAD-layer-system-like description scheme for images: wouldn't that help?


• Image processing much harder than text or some link-based algorithm: pictures are so terribly -deliciously- complicated!


• Keep thinking of holography as a means for moving forward


• I want my summer pictures indexed in my local drive so I won't have to search for hours (yeah, proper file titling would have helped had I done it at the right time...): "remember that church at the side in the background of that picture we had taken at [fill in the right place]?"


• What an awfully difficult challenge it seems to be - and how unbelievably beautiful too!

Parking in the city

Not too many houses are built these days without an underground parking area for residents to leave their cars at. Those who don't have that privilege do probably own a local resident card (don't ask me what colour it is - green and white?) which will give them a free park at streets nearby (how close I don't know either, there must be some regulation on curb colours and distances I've lived very happily not knowing about till now).

There is however an increasingly small bunch of poor devils who live in rented flats and do not officially belong there (the problem with frequent change of address and avoiding the mess of renewing the whole set of documents, accounts, etc) but somewhere else (maybe not even in town). Those ones should be wise enough not to own any kind of vehicle that needs a parking lot. In case they are not that wise or lucky, and aren't willing to pour a daily waterfall of coins into the parking posts for getting the right to park at some street in the neighbourhood, well then they're in trouble.



Summertime's no particular good season for the go-betweens (as that's usually their only choice), as the commuting between free parking areas in town and their homes will often be taken both at lunchtime and under a ruthless sun.


The poor devil's bless has arrived however: there's no charge for parking at the city streets in August, whatever their colour! (well at least along the afternoon). Hope the regulation won't harm the not too well treated collective of parking surveillance workers, but I know about at least one lad who will be able to have lunch half an hour before he did in July - and may not need to take a shower first!

Who said staying in town for the summer is a curse?

Three must-sees for summer 2010

Here's some good summer news for our fire-proofed souls to survive the horrid heat: three splendid films have hit (sneaked in might rather be said given the fairly discrete welcome in terms of audiences) the local screens along the first half of this summer. Even if three's a crowd, it's clearly too low a number for me daring to mention the word trend, but these pictures do certainly share a common approach to their stories and the way of telling them: small, unpretentious arguments with outstanding performances supporting deeply humanistic stories very hard to attach to a certain nationality. It seems like -yet another- golden age for European independent cinema. Have an example of the multi-nationalily feature, from that of clearest adscription to the absolute mélange: there is a French film that might well be Italian or even Swiss, then an Irish-Dutch film (such an unexpected alliance!) written & directed by a Dutch filmmaker of Polish origin and finally a British-French film on multicultural bridges directed by an Algerian-born Frenchman. And the three of them are simply brilliant pieces of a growing jigsaw that reflects the complex reality of contemporary European society and its concerns. Know what's best about it all? There's still the second half to arrive, and some more outstanding operas seem to be yet in store!

A couple of citations/images from these pictures follow - quite unlike Wikipedia (noticed the great, I'd say lightning-speed-growing collection of film entries in the reference dictionary of our time? more good news alright!), one was never too fond of plot descriptions, but rather a fan of resemblances and impressions (quite harder to communicate or google for however):

• The view on the sky and the sea from the house on top of the mountain
• The scene at the man's home at the start of the film after the woman finds out about her cheating husband
• The sympathetic Italian policemen on foot requesting passports to be shown at the walking path through the Alps
• The touching dialogue with the Italian couple after the rescue at sea
• The crazy (and wise) musician father obsessed with christianism and guilt

• A scent of ‘Sans toit ni loi’ so many years after – and in such different social circumstances indeed!
• "Talent knows where to stop"
• Music as the film third leading character (“Rubber room” as ironic counterpart to the educated lieder)
• "Make it stop" and the couple walking (or rather stumbling) along the deserted road in the windy dawn at the countryside (credit goes to the débutant photographer)
• "Ours is not to struggle for tiresome perfection" - goes the brilliant reply
• The seaweed - didn't it also make you think of 'The field' and Richard Harris?
• Those final, caracteristically Mediterranean staircases – where were those recorded?
  
  
  



• The picture of the still-standing, stone-faced man with the paper covered in blood (gracefully not appearing in the film)
• The sober yet helpful butcher downstairs - "I just mind my own businesses you know"
• A peaceful neighbourood. A linked community – bonds and the people who work for keeping them alive
• The muslim policeman and the sweet woman at the counter telling about missing people
• The music (Armand Amar)

EU Media Programme for promotion of European film production and distribution should be credited as well for such a flourishing – long live successful initiatives for keeping the business going in difficult times.

'When forty winters...'

Those of you who loved Colin Firth's brilliant performance in Michael Winterbottom's film 'Genova' -generally overlooked by prevailing negative reviews- will surely remember the closing scene from the summer course in English literature the professor played by Firth delivers at Università degli Studi di Genova. That scene with the beautiful sonnet and the 'you can get away with anything' line. Well for those of you who did not have the chance of learning it by heart at school here is the sonnet (incidentally by Shakespeare):


When forty winters shall beseige thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now,
Will be a tatter'd weed, of small worth held:
Then being ask'd where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,
To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes,
Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserved thy beauty's use,
If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count and make my old excuse,'
Proving his beauty by succession thine!
This were to be new made when thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.


(source -and further masterpieces: http://mural.uv.es/tmara/sonnets.htm)

Staglieno: un paseo entre filósofos y prohombres

En una Génova abrasada por el calor de julio -carteles en las intersecciones recomiendan a los vecinos de edad avanzada no abandonar sus viviendas de 11 a 18 horas- hay no obstante una multitud de lugares atractivos que reclaman una visita: Porto Antico, Campo Pisano, Duomo de San Lorenzo, Chiesa di S. Matteo... Llega un momento sin embargo en que el viajero necesita descansar del tour por los palazzi renacentistas que abarrotan la ciudad de un modo difícil de concebir (42 de ellos se construyeron a lo largo de un siglo por parte de las familias adineradas de la ciudad en sus tiempos de esplendor). Es entonces cuando se impone una visita fuera de los itinerarios turísticos al uso a un lugar fresco, tranquilo y poco frecuentado por locales o visitantes: el cementerio de Staglieno, orgullo de la ciudad ligur.


Una enorme extensión de terreno pródiga en arbolado y vegetación que guarda sentida memoria de la ciudad en forma de interminables hileras de sepulcros, panteones, nichos y tumbas adornados por centenares de monumentos funerarios de singular belleza. Es tal la extensión del camposanto que no es infrecuente encontrar estudiosos de los túmulos que se ofrecen por un módico precio al visitante para conducirle en visita guiada a través de las piezas mas memorables del establecimiento -que son legión. No es sólo que los carteles a la entrada recomienden al visitante no aceptar visitas guiadas por personas ajenas a la institucion: el modo más emocionante de recorrer este mágico enclave es seguramente vagar sin rumbo por las galerías al aire libre o bajo los soportales dejando que las maravillas esculpidas asalten nuestra sensibilidad empañando ocasionalmente nuestros ojos. En todo caso los improvisados guías aceptarán de buen grado nuestro deseo de errar al albur de las emociones y retornarán al examen del monumento en que a nuestra llegada se hallaban embebidos para incrementar todavía un poco más sus enciclopédicos conocimientos de la historia de la ciudad a traves de sus muertos.


Pesada carga la de la vanidad, que, contra lo que quería el poeta, ni siquiera en el momento de rendir el alma permite que puedan confundirse los humildes y los poderosos -piensa el viajero ante el deslumbrante esplendor de los memoriales que erigieron algunas familias- para a
continuación extasiarse ante las obras de los excelsos escultores que los deudos, ricos o no tanto, contrataban para honrar la memoria de sus seres queridos.
Deja entonces uno en segundo plano -siquiera por un momento- las consideraciones igualitarias para agradecer a la ciudad que haya sido capaz de preservar de manera tan delicada el recuerdo de generaciones y generaciones de genoveses. Y se dirige presto a rendir tributo a uno de los mas ilustres hijos de la república -que paradójicamente tan pocos años pudo residir en su ciudad natal en unos tiempos en los que las ansias de libertad se pagaban a menudo con la muerte o el exilio- frente al tan sólido como sobrio monumento funerario con que se recuerda a quien fuera uno de los padres de la patria de la recién nacida república nacional italiana.


Si hemos tenido la precaución de visitar la oficina de información a la entrada del recinto, tendremos con nosotros una breve guía modestamente impresa que sugiere al viajero una serie de recorridos temáticos sin ofrecer directamente la ubicación de los monumentos más atractivos, sino sólo sus fotografías en una desvaída cuatricromía. Una memorable invitación a recorrer los senderos del parque -dado que a menudo Staglieno deja la sensacion de ser un silencioso parque de la memoria- a la búsqueda de las imágenes cautivadoras que harán que el recuerdo de la visita perviva mucho tiempo en nuestro ánimo. El sereno paseo por los caminos del cementerio constituirá tambien un inadvertido homenaje al filósofo alemán que transitó en su día los amplios espacios meditando sobre la naturaleza del ser y la voluntad de poder.


Al abandonar el recinto rebosantes de paz y emoción contenida, Staglieno tiene el destacable atractivo final de encontrarse a un paso del barrio de Marasi, que alberga el Stadio Comunale Luigi Ferraris, a tiro de piedra del camposanto y escenario de los enconados duelos futbolísticos que disputan las dos grandes escuadras -acérrimas rivales por descontado- que llevan el nombre de la ciudad más allá de los confines de la misma.

Otra interesante visita para recobrar el contacto con la Génova más vital.