2015 – Page 18 – { feuilleton }

Don Juan, a film by Jan Švankmajer

I’ve been reading Thomas Ligotti for the past week so here’s something Ligottian: a short film performed by life-size wooden puppets. Švankmajer’s production from 1969 conveys the Don Juan legend with actors masquerading as traditional Czech marionettes, the proceedings being scored by music from the great Zdeněk Liška. No English subtitles on this one so if you don’t speak Czech or Russian you can either relish the mystery or take it as a prompt to buy a DVD. While we’re on the subject of Ligotti, the new Penguin edition of Songs of a Dead Dreamer/Grimscribe is published next week. I recommend it.

Previously on { feuilleton }
• The Pendulum, the Pit and Hope
• Two sides of Liška
• The Torchbearer by Václav Švankmajer

Japanese moons

Autumn Moon At Ishiyama Temple (c. 1834) by Hiroshige.

The moon is a continual feature in Japanese landscape prints, and the following selection is only a small sample of the many beautiful examples that may be found on this print site. See also this site, and Yoshitoshi’s stunning series, One Hundred Aspects of the Moon.

Rising Moon at Nagase (no date) Artist unknown.

Rising Moon at Katase River (1907) by Shiron Kasamatsu.

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Lunar light

Evening Scene with Full Moon and Persons (1801) by Abraham Pether.

More moons. The thing you immediately notice when looking at paintings of the moon is how many of them show moonlight reflected on water, while the moon itself tends to change its size. There are many more examples here.

Moonrise Over the Sea (c. 1821) by Caspar David Friedrich.

View of Dresden by Moonlight (1839) by Johan Christian Dahl.

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Lunar observations

Seashore by Moonlight (between 1660 and 1664) by Egbert van der Poel.

The moon in art. A wide-ranging theme so there’ll be more tomorrow.

Two Men Contemplating the Moon (1820) by Caspar David Friedrich.

Cornfield in Moonlight (c. 1830) by Samuel Palmer.

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C’était un rendez-vous, a film by Claude Lelouch

As a lifelong pedestrian, I have an abiding hatred of cars but I still enjoy watching this. C’était un rendez-vous is an 8-minute drive through the streets of Paris one early morning in 1976, the film being a single take shot by a camera attached to the front of Claude Lelouch’s Mercedes. (Sounds of a Ferrari engine were added later.) The director was at the wheel, and driving as fast as possible on a route that took him from a tunnel at Porte Dauphine to the front of the Sacré Coeur basilica in Montmartre. Along the way, numerous red lights are ignored, several pedestrians almost end up in hospital, and startled pigeons fly for their lives. In Ballardian terms, it’s a good example of unsafe auto-erotica. Via MetaFilter.