ARKDOG

random

[arkdog]

me jake and monument valley

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Soundtracks for Inside of Car

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dog direction

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29

[arkdog]

Barr has said he doesn't care about being on the right side of history. Giuliani says his tombstone will say he lied for Trump but who cares bc he'll be dead. Does their Catholicism not have heaven/hell anymore? Do they as arrogant jerks not even care abt their legacies & obits? They lack the vanity of secular overmen and the religiosity that cd make their crime seem like jihad. I'm not talking about why aren't they GOOD people. I mean..why aren't they like self-respecting crooks of old? They're more like so what l'll go to hell & the dustbin of history Basically so much energy expended to do so much catastrophic damage. in the world, all under the flag of I Don't Care. Virginia Heffernan

[arkdog]

big finish

[arkdog]

my four dogs, Jake, Sam, Atticus, Pete

[arkdog]

An Ode to David McCullough

Listen closely to these excerpts from 2 very different documentaries about the Donner Party.

The first is from a doc before the McCullough era—flat, bloodless, a checklist of facts with no pulse.

Then comes the second. McCullough steps in, and suddenly it’s not just history—it’s a story. A human drama. We lean forward. We have to know what happens next.

Alongside Rick and Ken Burns, DM breathed life into black-and-white photographs, turning static images into living, breathing moments.

The monotone recitations were gone. In their place—McCullough’s unshakable belief in the power of story. In doing so, he and the Burns Brothers changed documentary filmmaking forever.

He is missed.

[arkdog]

Austin runway

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eyeing my new iphone

squirrel

[arkdog]

“Now is the winter of our discontent”

BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

(from Richard III, spoken by Gloucester)

Now is the winter of our discontent

Made glorious summer by this sun of York;

And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house

In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;

Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;

Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,

Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.

Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;

And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds

To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,

He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber

To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.

But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,

Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;

I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty

To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;

I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,

Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,

Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time

Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,

And that so lamely and unfashionable

That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;

Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,

Have no delight to pass away the time,

Unless to spy my shadow in the sun

And descant on mine own deformity:

And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,

To entertain these fair well-spoken days,

I am determined to prove a villain

And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,

By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams,

To set my brother Clarence and the king

In deadly hate the one against the other:

And if King Edward be as true and just

As I am subtle, false and treacherous,

This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up,

About a prophecy, which says that 'G'

Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.

Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here

[filmmusic]

In “Immortal Beloved”, Beethoven whispers to Anton Schindler:  "It is the power of music to carry one directly into the mental state of the composer. The listener has no choice. It is like hypnotism.“ The film’s writer and director Bernard Rose extends this force in art to the cinema in his sublime visualization of “Ode to Joy”.   For his final work, Beethoven chose to set text by Friedrich von Schiller, a poet he revered in his youth. In the film, we watch as a young, emaciated Beethoven runs through the forest from the shrill cries of his abusive father.  As Schilller’s words rise from the chorus, Beethoven literally and figuratively steps from terra firma and floats into the firmament. It is an image equal to arguably the most magnificent music ever written. The sequence ends with the composer at the Ninth’s premiere – totally deaf by that time, his head buried in the score. He could hear neither the music itself nor the storm of applause and cheering that followed. Caroline Unger, the Hungarian contralto who sang in the solo quartet, had to tug at his sleeve and turn him to face the audience; she later described the event to Sir George Grove, who wrote in his book on the Beethoven symphonies,

His turning round, and the sudden conviction thereby forced on everybody that he had not done so before because he could not hear what was going on, acted like an electric shock on all present, and a volcanic explosion of sympathy and admiration followed, which was repeated again and again, and seemed as if it would never end.

[arkdog]

My tribute to Bernard Rose

[filmmusic]

Fearless is a 1993 American drama film directed by Peter Weir and starring Jeff Bridges. The film’s soundtrack features part of the first movement of Henryk Górecki’s Symphony No. 3, subtitled Symphony of Sorrowful Songs. 

“everything is wonderful”

[arkdog]

In Fearless (1993), Peter Weir’s luminous drama, Max Klein’s cosmic awakening unfolds against the aching strains of Henryk Górecki’s Symphony No. 3—the Symphony of Sorrowful Songs. In that moment, film and music fuse into something transcendent… as powerful as anything I have ever experienced in a theater.