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Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Mario Vargas Llosa, Nietzsche en Sils-Maria



Cuando Nietzsche vino por primera vez a Sils-Maria, en el verano de 1879, era una ruina humana. Perdía la vista a pasos rápidos, lo atormentaban las migrañas y las enfermedades lo habían obligado a renunciar a su cátedra en la Universidad de Basilea, luego de profesar allí 10 años. Fue un amor a primera vista: lo deslumbraron el aire cristalino, el misterio y vigor de las montañas, las cascadas rumorosas, la serenidad de lagos y lagunas, las ardillas y hasta los enormes gatos monteses. En Sils-Maria escribiría o concebiría sus libros más importantes, La gaya ciencia, Así habló Zaratustra, Más allá del bien y del mal, El ocaso de los ídolos, El Anticristo.





(Mario Vargas Llosa)

(Nietzsche)

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Friday, October 17, 2014

Nietzsche, Ich bin kein Mensch, ich bin Dynamit

drawing of Nietzsche by Hans Olde
from Pan magazine no. 4, 1899/1900
(wikimedia)
via Dabija Enea
no copyright infringement intended


Ich kenne mein Loos. Es wird sich einmal an meinen Namen die Erinnerung an etwas Ungeheures anknüpfen,—an eine Krisis, wie es keine auf Erden gab, an die tiefste GewissensCollision, an eine Entscheidung heraufbeschworen gegen Alles, was bis dahin geglaubt, gefordert, geheiligt worden war. Ich bin kein Mensch, ich bin Dynamit.


I know my fate. One day my name will be associated with the memory of something tremendous--a crisis without equal on earth, the most profound collision of conscience, a decision that was conjured up against everything that had been believed, demanded, hallowed so far. I am no man, I am dynamite.



(Nietzsche)

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Monday, April 16, 2012

Richard Strauss: Eine Alpensinfonie - and Nietzsche again


The video below contains a recording that Philips released in 1986. It had been made one year earlier, in 1985: Richard Strauss' Alpine Symphony Op. 64, performed by Koninklijk Concertgebouworkest (RCO: Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra), conducted by Bernard Haitink: one of the finest Alpine Symphonies, with its stupendous mix of dainty touches, ferocious dynamism, and lyrical tenderness (as IONARTS blog enthusiastically noted).

Despite its title, the Alpine Symphony is a tone poem, of 22 parts (in terms of formal analysis, attempts have been made to group these sections together to form a gigantic Lisztian symphonic form, with elements of an introduction, opening allegro, scherzo, slow movement, finale, and epilogue... however, it is believed that comparisons to any kind of traditional symphonic form are secondary to the strong sense of structure created by the piece's musical pictorialism and detailed narrative - wiki).

It was the last tone poem created by Richard Strauss: his great operas would follow.

The genesis of Eine Alpensinfonie was long and gathered together very different events that had impressed Richard Strauss throughout the years.

As a 14-year boy, he had been in a group of climbers who lost their way in the Alps and were caught by a severe storm. This would provide the basis for the narrative of the poem: Eine Alpensinfonie is first of all a reenactment of that adventure from long time ago.

However, another event triggered the beginning of the poem's creation. A friend, Swiss artist Karl Stauffer-Bern died in 1891, due to an overdose of sleeping pills. It was the outcome of a passionate love: he had been enamored to the wife of his wealthy patron. The affair was discovered and the artist was prevented to see his love any more. He had a nervous breakdown, tried unsuccessfully to shoot himself, and eventually it was the overdose that proved fatal. His love, Lydia Welti-Escher, committed suicide several months later.



Richard Strauss began in 1899 to work on a composition in memory of this tragic story. It was entitled Künstlertragödie (Tragedy of an Artist), but Strauss gave up the project and decided to use the musical material in a new project, a four-movement symphony (entitled Die Alpen), later abandoned as well. It is interesting the link that was set in Strauss' soul between the two events: the best way to express his feelings about the tragic story of love was by writing music about mountains - telling some truths about eternity, and fate, and sublime.

It was the death of another friend that made Richard Strauss resume the work, this time on a much larger musical structure that finally became Eine Alpensinfonie. Gustav Mahler passed away in 1911, and here is what Strauss noted in his journal: the death of this aspiring, idealistic, energetic artist is a grave loss.

It was again the impetus to express what he felt at the loss of his friend, by a transfer of his musical discourse towards the mountains, and this time he explained this in his journal. He needed a construction of religious kind in such a moment, and religion was for him fatally linked to a tired civilization. Here Richard Strauss was following Nietzsche: it is clear to me that the German nation will achieve new creative energy only by liberating itself from Christianity! I will come back to that, and I intend to bring the authority of Tillich in this matter.

Anyway, for Richard Strauss his Alpine Symphony meant moral purification through one's own strength, liberation through work, worship of eternal, magnificent nature (quoting again from his journal).

In February 1915 Eine Alpensinfonie was ready. The premiere was in October the same year, in Dresden.




(Richard Strauss)

(Nietzsche)

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Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Nietzsche: another Lied of Prinz Vogelfrei - Diesen ungewissen Seelen

Super Nietzsche
by Jordny
no copyright infringement intended
(http://svalts.tumblr.com/post/5046218352/super-nietzsche-by-jordny)



This cartoon of Super Nietzsche goes well (maybe?) with the song that follows. I come again with the question from the previous Lied of Prinz Vogelfrei (Nach neuen Meeren): what if we knew him only from this song? Well, it is here a bit (or much more than a bit) of his disdain for the Christian morality. Don't jump too quickly to conclusions, though. It is about Christian civilization, or better said, against a civilization that happens to be Christian. A civilization too old, not being any more what it thinks it is. I will come back to this. Now, try to let yourselves carried by the song - free as a bird.



Diesen ungewissen Seelen
Bin ich grimmig gram.
All ihr Ehren ist ein Quälen,
All ihr Lob ist Selbstverdruss und Scham.

Dass ich nicht an ihrem Stricke
Ziehe durch die Zeit,
Dafür grüsst mich ihrer Blicke
Giftig-süsser hoffnungsloser Neid.

Möchten sie mir herzhaft fluchen
Und die Nase drehn!
Dieser Augen hülflos Suchen
Soll bei mir auf ewig irre gehn.



Johannes Heesters, P. Schmidt-Pavloff, Fred Alexander, Beatrice Richter, Cordula Trantow, Kristina Walter, Angelica Camm, Karin Manner, Stephen Sikder, Florain Kiml, Antonia Sophia Niesig vor dem Kölner Dom
Music: Wolfgang Scheffler, Production: Uwe Niesig
(video by nisanus)


Souls that lack determination
Rouse my wrath to white-hot flame!
All their glory's but vexation,
All their praise but self-contempt and shame!

Since I baffle their advances.
Will not clutch their leading-string.
They would wither me with glances
Bitter-sweet, with hopeless envy sting.

Let them with fell curses shiver.
Curl their lip the livelong day!
Seek me as they will, forever
Helplessly their eyes shall go astray!






Ces âmes incertaines,
Je leur en veux à mort.
Tout leur honneur est un supplice,
Leurs louanges couvrent de honte

Parce que, au bout de leur laisse,
Je ne traverse pas les temps,
Le poison de l’envie, doux et désespéré,
Dans leur regard me salue.

Qu’ils m’injurient avec courage
En me tournant le dos!
Ces yeux suppliants et égarés
Sans cesse se tromperont sur moi.


(Nietzsche)

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Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Nietzsche: another Lied of Prinz Vogelfrei - Nach neuen Meeren

no copyright infringement intended
(http://www.jahresgalerie.de/strand_meeren.htm)



Is it good to approach him in this way, by small pieces of poetry? Are they relevant for the whole? There is a reason: these little poems give an easiness for going further.

What if Nietzsche were known only for this small Song of Prince Vogelfrei? No Eternal Return, no Übermensch, no Wille zur Macht, nothing but this little song? Can we consider a holistic view, this atom containing the whole?

We should try a holistic view only if we know the whole: otherwise how to relate this atom?

We would feel that the poet was thinking at some wholeness, by meditating at new seas, a new world, beyond the contingent. And this wholeness was for him source of restlessness. A dangerous paradise.


Nach neuen Meeren

Nach neuen Meeren.
Dorthin – will ich; und ich traue
Mir fortan und meinem Griff.
Offen liegt das Meer, in’s Blaue
Treibt mein Genueser Schiff.

Alles glänzt mir neu und neuer,
Mittag schläft auf Raum und Zeit –:
Nur dein Auge – ungeheuer
Blickt mich’s an, Unendlichkeit!





COLUMBUS REDIVIVUS

Thither I'll travel, that's my notion,
I'll trust myself, my grip,
Where opens wide and blue the ocean
I'll ply my Genoa ship.

New things on new the world unfolds me,
Time, space with noonday die:
Alone thy monstrous eye beholds me,
Awful Infinity!





Vers les Mers nouvelles

Là-bas - je veux aller, et j’ai dès lors
Confiance en moi et en mes talents de pilote,
La vaste nappe de la mer s’étend
Et mon vaisseau génois navigue vers l’azur.

Tout scintille pour moi, dans sa splendeur nouvelle,
Le midi sommeille sur l’espace et le temps -:
Et ton aeil seulement - monstreux Me fixe, ô infini!





Verso nuovi mari

Là, voglio giungere, e mi fiderò
d’ora in poi di me e della mia mano sicura.
Aperto è davanti a me il mare: verso l’azzurro
mi spinge la mia nave genovese.

Tutto sempre più nuovo mi risplende.
Dorme su spazio e tempo a mezzodì.
E’ solo l’occhio tuo – infinitudine!
Che immenso mi sta guardando.


(Nietzsche)

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Monday, April 09, 2012

Nietzsche: a Lied of Prinz Vogelfrei - Sils Maria - and Chopin

Edvard Munch - portrait of Nietzsche, 1906
no copyright infringement intended
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Nietzsche-munch.jpg)


Sils-Maria, the place with moments of joy, when he was feeling free as a bird, and enlightenment seemed so close, followed by moments of fear - he was asking too much there, to get the infinite - and nobody has got it. A splendid little poem - I added at the end an etude by Chopin: they go well together.



Hier sass ich, wartend, wartend, – doch auf Nichts,
Jenseits von Gut und Böse, bald des Lichts

Geniessend, bald des Schattens, ganz nur Spiel,
Ganz See, ganz Mittag, ganz Zeit ohne Ziel.

Da, plötzlich, Freundin! wurde Eins zu Zwei –
– Und Zarathustra gieng an mir vorbei.

Nietzsche House at Sils-Maria
no copyright infringement intended
(http://www.classical-composers.org/place/237)



Here sat I waiting, waiting, but for naught!
Beyond all good and evil—now by light wrought

To joy, now by dark shadows—all was leisure,
All lake, all noon, all time sans aim, sans measure.

Then one, dear friend, was swiftly changed to twain,
And Zarathustra left my teeming brain.


Nietzsche House at Sils-Maria
interior
no copyright infringement intended
(http://www.conceptart.org/forums/showthread.php?t=149114)



J’étais assis là dans l’attente - dans l’attente de rien,
Par-delà le bien et le mal jouissant, tantôt

De la lumière, tantôt de l’ombre, abandonné
A ce jour, au lac, au midi, au temps sans but.

Alors, ami, soudain un est devenu deux -
Et Zarathoustra passa auprès de moi...


Chopin, Etude C minor op.25 no.12
Maurizio Pollini
(video by egrosz)

On this perfect day, when everything is ripening and not only the grape turns brown, the eye of the sun just fell upon my life. I looked back, I looked forward,and never saw so many and such good things at once. It was not for nothing that I buried my forty-fourth year today;I had the right to bury it; whatever was life in it has been saved, is immortal... How could I fail to be grateful to my whole life-and so I tell my life to myself.
(Nietzsche, Ecce Homo - quoted by egrosz)

(Nietzsche)

(Chopin)

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Saturday, April 07, 2012

With Nietzsche, Down the Labyrinth

no copyright infringement intended
(http://www.dartmouth.edu/~fnchron/1888.html)


From poetry to opera to documentary movie, from Dionysos - Dithyramben (the last work of Nietzsche, a collection of poems he created while on the brink of his fatal illness) to Dionysos (the opera of Wolfgang Rihm, finished in 2010) to Ich bin dein Labyrinth! - Wolfgang Rihm: Nietzsche: Dionysos (the documentary movie of Bettina Ehrhardt, from 2011). From Nietzsche to Rihm to Ehrhardt, exploring the sensual Dyonisiac labyrinth of European culture.


To speak about Dionysos - Dythyramben would be too daring at this stage, maybe sheer madness - these poems conclude the work of a whole life. What I want is to understand, and to appropriate, the way Nietzsche described the genesis of European culture by the conflicting unity of Dionysus and Apollo.

Here is the text of Dionysos - Dythyramben: the original German, the English and French renderings.



Dionysos, the opera of Wolfgang Rihm, uses the verses of Nietzsche, while trying to emphasize the conflictual unity on which the European culture is built: the two heroes of the opera, N (short for Nietzsche) and Gast, interact through an endless cycle of erotic competition and cooperation, wandering inside the labyrinth, towards the climax, when the plot takes definitely a mythical allure: the two guys are actually human flesh masks hiding Dionysus and Apollo (which after all is expected, since the opera builds on the Welthanschaung of Nietzsche). As for the music, well, it is atonal (how else?), while sending suggestions to Mozart (the women - attendants to the Queen of Night, you know, Die Zauberflöte), Schubert (Winterreise), Wagner (the Rhinemaidens from Der Ring des Nibelungen, also the Flower Maidens from Parsifal), and Richard Strauss (the three nymphs - Naiad, Dryad, and Echo - from Ariadne auf Naxos).

Well, if you ask me more about these suggestions, I will tell you that they come on the musical parts dedicated to the female characters of the opera: besides the two males, there are nymphs (now and then metamorphosing into prostitutes - that's it), and the musical structure of the opera puts some accents that sends to those composers.

Now, the chronicler (Anthony Tommasini) from NY Times criticized Mr. Rihm for not sending suggestions also to Puccini's Tosca. I think that, firstly, nobody's perfect (not even Nietzsche was, by the contrary), and, secondly, the chronicler was maybe too demanding.

Several links:



As for the documentary of Bettina Ehrhardt, it mixes moments captured from the creation process of Rihm's opera with some kind of reenactment of the period of life when Nietzsche created Dionysos - Dythyramben.

It was not easy for Bettina Ehrhardt to get the moments from the intimacy of opera creation, as that creation was long and painful, with moments of giving up, with moments of taking the whole process anew. There had been fifteen years of failures, up to December 2009, when Wolfgang Rihm received a firm commitment from the Salzburg Festival. The composer made tabula rasa and started again on the scratch. The libretto was ready in April 2010 and immediately the orchestration and repetitions began. No wonder that the first response Mr. Rihm gave Mrs. Ehrhardt was, how do you want me to talk about something I have not finished yet! She was however able to follow Wolfgang Rihm to Salzburg, to film repetitions and to take interviews to the interprets. After all, if we look at the painful process of creating the opera, and then the documentary, Nietzsche proved right: any art work results from a ferocious struggle between Dyonisiac and Apollinic.

As I said, the documentary interweaves the moments captured from the opera creation with a reenactment of some months from Nietzsche's life: a fictitious story shot in the mountainous surroundings of Sils-Maria, a place that was special for the philosopher: a place of enlightenment, also where he had the foreboding of his downfall, for a while I bathed in my own light and now it's over.

I recommend a link where you will find more about this documentary:


Speaking here about the documentary made by Bettina Ehrhardt gave me the impulse to talk in near future about another movie that uses a similar approach of getting glimpses from the life of a Swedish author mixed with capturing the essence of a place that had been a space of revelation for him: about Axel Munthe and San Michele - Blind Light, the documentary made by Pola Rapaport.

Here is a trailer of Ich bin dein Labyrinth! - Wolfgang Rihm: Nietzsche: Dionysos, the documentary of Bettina Ehrhardt:



(Nietzsche)

(German and Nordic Cinema)

(Rihm)

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Nietzsche

no copyright infringement intended
(http://coffeephilosopher.wordpress.com/2012/02/08/2776/)


Yesterday I talked with two good friends on an aphorism of Nietzsche, Sine Musica Nulla Vita. I will come back to this, also I think there will be much room here for the philosopher who brought the hammer in the gardens of Akademos, and raised both great enthusiasm and unconditional hatred.

For now, I will give you just a glimpse (I mentioned already this opinion of Nietzsche on Beethoven and Mozart):

La musique de Beethoven.... Innocence de la mélodie : c’est de la musique sur de la musique... Ses mélodies... lui sont des réminiscences transfigurées d’un monde meilleur, un peu comme Platon imaginait ses Idées. – Mozart a de tout autres rapports avec ses mélodies ; il ne trouve pas ses inspirations en écoutant de la musique, mais en regardant la vie, la vie la plus animée.

[Music of Beethoven... Innocence of the melody: it is music on music... His melodies... they are to him transfigured reminiscences of a better world, a little as Plato imagined his Ideas. – Mozart has totally other relationship with his melodies; he does not find his inspirations by listening to music, rather by looking at the life, the most animated life]



(German and Nordic Literature)

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Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Michael Gilleland



Up to the present I have not obtained from any poet the same artistic delight as was given me from the first by a Horatian ode. In certain languages that which is obtained here cannot even be hoped for. The mosaic of words in which every word, by sound, by position and by meaning, diffuses its force right, left and over the whole, that minimum in the compass and number of signs, that maximum thus realized in their energy,--all that is Roman, and if you will believe me, it is noble par excellence. All other poetry becomes somewhat too popular in comparison with it - mere sentimental loquacity.

I took this quote from a great web site dedicated to the Odes of Horace:



As I want to post here some of the Odes in Latin, along with their English rendering (at least, if possible also translations in other tongues) and to add some stuff related to each one, I will use both the Hachette edition of the Book of Odes (I have talked here about it in my previous post) and the information from the web site mentioned above.

The author of that web site is Michael Gilleland, and he did a fantastic job. For each ode he gave the original in Latin, also as many English renderings as he could find (sometimes up to a dozen; his favorite translator is Franklin P. Adams).

But who is Michael Gilleland? A software developer passionate for Latin and Greek, natural history, 19th century American landscape painting, etymology, lexicography and gardening: wow! A scholar manqué, as he introduces himself with self-deprecating humor, antediluvian, bibliomaniac, and curmudgeon (if you ask me what curmudgeon means, it's synonym for cantankerous, which in turn indicates a person which is difficult to cope with). His favorite music begins with the Gregorian chant, passes through Bach and Mozart, and ends with Schubert songs and Brahms: nothing beyond. Lives in Saint Paul, Minnesota.

In two words, Mr. Gilleland is a fascinating person and I am glad I found his web site.

Let's give here just a glimpse from his blog (different from his site dedicated to the Odes): a line from Euripides.

τί δ᾽ ἄλλο; φωνὴ καὶ σκιὰ γέρων ἀνήρ.

(What else? An old man is but voice and shadow)


(Horace)

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Sunday, January 02, 2011

Lu Xun


(I dedicate this post to HANAFUBUKI: Lu Xun is one of her favorite authors)

I firstly encountered the name of Lu Xun sometime by the end of the 1950's. It was in an issue of Horizons, an international journal that had also a Romanian edition. It was, in that period, the only international journal originated in the West that the Communist regime allowed to be printed in a Romanian edition.

As the journal of the World Peace Council, Horizons was of course close to the Communist parties. It was in the same time, in the Communist Romania of those years, a window of opening: written by guys living in democratic countries it had a footprint of normality and decency.

So I found in one issue of Horizons a large article consecrated to Lu Xun (rendered as Lu Sin, following the old transliteration rules). I was in my early teens and it did not remain much of the article in my head, mostly a striking comparison: Lu Sin was characterized as a Chinese Gorky. And I decided that I would read sometime the books of this Lu Sin.

Years have passed, many years, and in 2005 I met with a book of Lu Xun. It was this time in Washington, DC: a large exhibition of Chinese art and culture was organized at the Kennedy Center. I bought several Chinese books, all of them elegant bi-lingual editions. Among them, guess what?

The book by Lu Xun was a collection of stories, starting with A Madman's Diary. Was Lu Xun rather a Chinese Gogol? Well, the subject of the story by Lu Xun is very different to that of Gogol, but the title is a reverence to the great Russian writer. Later I learned that Lu Xun translated Dead Souls in Chinese. So, there is a chemistry.

Was Lu Xun a Communist? Like Gorky, he was praised by them, and they tried to seize his name. Like Gorky, he was essentially his own guy, too independent, too vast, to be circumscribed. Lu Xun was compared also with Nietzsche: like him, trapped in the construction of a modernity which is fundamentally problematic (Gloria Davies).

But I owe you a presentation of some of the stories by Lu Xun. 2011 has just started.


(A Life in Books)

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Thursday, November 12, 2009

Satyajit Ray: Devi (1960)

Devi (The Godess), 1960
movie poster
(source: Brown Town)
no copyright infringement intended


You can watch the movie here:







Devi (The Goddess), made by Satyajit Ray in 1960. It was his fourth movie, following the Apu Trilogy.

Apu Trilogy is about Cosmos and History, and Devi continues on the same theme, bringing however an astonishing new dimension.

You say Cosmos above History, Eternity above Past, Present and Future, then you say Religion. Well, Devi can be considered anti-religious, even blasphemy. Or is it profoundly religious? It's maybe also the case of the movies of Lars von Trier, or Scorsese's Last Temptation of Christ: if they are religious it's not for the weak ones.

The story in Devi unfurls in an aristocratic Bengali family sometime in the first half of the 1800's: an old widower and his two married sons. The father is a very powerful landlord and his authority is unquestionable. One of the sons leaves the place for a short time, to pass an exam in Calcutta. During his absence, the old father has a dream in which Goddess Kali appears with the face of Doya, the young wife of the absent son. As the father is a profound believer he starts to consider his young daughter-in-law as a reincarnation of Kali. Nobody dares to oppose him, and when the son comes back he finds his wife venerated by everybody, sitting in an altar and target of endless devotional prayers. An air of madness is floating freely, and the husband doesn't know any more what his wife really thinks. Actually she doesn't know either. A small boy came back to life miraculously in her presence, so it can be something. Her common sense would rather turn her away from all this stuff, but she is scared: what if she really is the reincarnation of Kali? Then, listening to her common sense (and to what her husband says) would be sacrilege.

The events are spiraling out of control more and more. In the end a boy dies in her hands; it is her beloved nephew, the grandson of the old landlord, who is now desperate: he had adored Kali all his life, why did she punish him so cruelly? And Doya, got mad by all this, will disappear forever.

I thought a bit about some unconscious erotic desire, unfurled in paroxystic religious behavior. Let's see what one of the movie commentators (mazumdar) has to say:

Is there some sexual tension behind this astonishing behavior? It's always possible. But don't be misled; this film is not in any way about sex or perversity. All the outward manifestations of affection are very proper and correct in a Bengali context. (A foot massage given by a young wife to her father-in-law is not considered an erotic act, rather a dutiful one.) This film is about the nature of devotion and duty. The father's level of devotion becomes dangerous to everyone in the household -- for Doya, for her husband Uma, and for Uma's elder brother Tara and his wife Hara and their child. Uma doesn't agree with his father, Tara probably doesn't, Doya probably don't either. But what can be done? The father's devotion is perfectly logical in the context of tradition. How can Uma speak against it? It will take courage. But courage to do what, destroy his own father? There is a complex web of duties involved. How will Uma do his duty to his father? his wife? Has the childless Doya failed in her duties to her husband? How will Hara do her duty to her father-in-law as well as to her husband and to her young son? All these questions are implied. As usual, director Satyajit Ray applies a subtle hand -- given an extraordinary situation, what would you really do? How would you really behave? To westerners, Uma's shy reaction to his father's actions may be unbelievable. This is perhaps a difference in place in time. Put yourself in his shoes -- devotion must be respected and duty must be done.

Sharmila Tagore in 2000 about the role of Doya that she played in 1960 (quoted by Edi_Drums):

I was only fourteen when I acted in Devi, so we did the filming during my summer holidays. Sometimes the lighting took a long time to set up, and dealing with the physical tiredness of sitting still, I found myself fitting into the character. I became the character. The key to that kind of performance is not to think: it is to suspend thought, and just to be. I had to empty my mind of everything and just allow Doya to take over. She is not a thinking person, but a feeling person. It is all filmed in close-ups, so the face begins to haunt the viewer.

Something once happened on set when we were filming in a studio in Calcutta. In a scene where the girl is sitting there, everybody worshiping her as Devi, a very old man came and prostrated himself before me. It was such a strange, eerie experience. I immediately understood how Doya must be feeling.

To accept it all as real(istic) you have to understand nineteenth century Bengal. Patriarchy was paramount. Orthodoxy and superstition were also very deeply entrenched. At the same time though, rationalism was just beginning to raise its head, but it was too timid to confront the strong orthodoxy: the father was the head of the family. Nobody could question him. (Please your father and you please the gods, remarks the brother in law.)

All Ray's films are culturally specific, and yet they have a timeless quality. You can watch Devi in any era and relate to it, depending on your own experience and your own evolution. I watch the film now and still see things I missed then.

Then, how can we decipher Devi: a violently anti-religious movie created by a man that considered always Cosmos above History?

First of all, Cosmos and Godhead are not necessarily equivalent. The fact that Cosmos is above History does not imply the presence there of Gods. They can be there; they can be not: it's beyond our control.

Then (and here I'll bring the authority of Paul Tillich), religion is a fact of culture, operating with an image of Godhead, as projected in that culture. When Nietzsche was shouting God is Dead, he was actually saying that a certain culture was dead. The same with St.Paul in his Epistle to the Romans: he was proclaiming the end of the culture of Old Testament, with all its rigors and traditions. Thus, Religion operates in History, while Godhead is above and beyond.

Thus a mortal cannot be a reincarnation of Kali for the simple fact that a mortal lives in History. If you forget it you don't reach Cosmos: instead you reach madness.

I have now other movies of Satyajit Ray to watch and to meditate on them. It seems to me that his Devi is not anti-religious; it is rather a story about our tragic condition: to remain chained by History even when we feel like Gods.

And then, there is also a splendid ambiguity in this movie: Ray does not actually speak very clear about his convictions and leaves the judgment for us. It is good to read again what Sharmila Tagore said about Devi: after all the key of the movie could be this one: what if she really is the reincarnation of Kali?


(Satyajit Ray)

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Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Late Spring - The Authority of Nietzsche



When Zarathustra was thirty years old, he left his home and the lake of his home...


Let's discuss one of the scenes from Ozu's Banshun (Late Spring): the last night in Kyoto. Father (Chishu Ryu) and daughter (Setsuko Hara) are preparing their baggage as the following day they would leave for Tokyo.

They had taken for the trip a lot of books and now they are packaging them. So sometimes they hand books one another, as his books should go into his baggage and her into hers.

And suddenly the daughter said one of the most touching sentences ever, father, even if you get married I'd like to remain with you; I want to be always on your side.

This is too much for him: how could he possibly say no? He is just a father, just a poor being, and he knows very well that he would actually not get re-married, that he would remain alone for the rest of his life.

However he must say no.

It happens that exactly in that moment he has the book of Nietzsche in his hands, Also Sprach Zarathustra. And what follows is like the father takes his forces from that book. He speaks much longer than he did for all the rest of the movie; and he speaks with authority. It is about her duty to build together with her future husband their happiness; it will not be easy, it never was; it will take long, long years, and it will be hard; that is her duty in the world.

How can he speak with such determination?

It is not his will, it is the will of Nietzsche! Unconsciously, he places himself under the moral authority of the great philosopher and he finds there the courage to say what needs to be said.




(Yasujiro Ozu and Setsuko Hara)

(Nietzsche)

(Richard Strauss)

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Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Maya: The Point of Departure

Maya Deren
Myth is the twilight speech of an old man to a boy. All the old men begin at the beginning. Their recitals always speak first of the origin of life. They start by inventing this event which no man witnessed, which still remains mystery. They initiate the history of their race with a fiction. For, whether it was first in the sense of time, life is, for all men, first of miracles in the sense of prime. This is a fact. Myth is the facts of the mind made manifest in a fiction of matter.

Mitul este cuvantarea din amurgul vietii pe care un batran i-o tine unui baiat. Toti batranii incep cu inceputul. Relatarile lor vorbesc intotdeauna mai intai despre originea vietii. Incep prin a inventa acest eveniment caruia nici un om nu i-a fost martor, care ramane inca un mister. Isi incep istoria rasei lor cu o fictiune. Pentru ca, chiar daca a fost prima in din punct de vedere al timpului, viata este pentru toti oamenii primul miracol, din punct de vedere al intaietatii. Acesta este un fapt. Mitul inseamna fapte ale mintii facute manifeste intr-o fictiune a materiei.

My comment:
I would say here inner reality for mind and concrete reality for matter. Our inner reality needs to cope with this fact that does not belong to the concrete reality (as nobody witnessed the beginning). So you force your inner fact to carry a concrete face (to be able to express it). That's the myth. Only, we should agree that our inner fact is real, though not concrete. I am trying to understand this, to understand her movies.

As zice aici realitate interioara pentru minte si realitate concreta pentru materie. Realitatea noastra interioara are nevoie sa se acomodeze cu acest fapt care nu apartine realitatii concrete (pentru ca nimeni nu a fost martor inceputului). Asa incat fortezi realitatea ta interioara sa poarte o fata concreta (ca sa o poti exprima). Asta-i mitul. Numai ca ar trebui sa cadem de acord ca faptul nostru interior este real, desi nu concret. Incerc sa inteleg asta, ca sa inteleg filmele ei
.

The speech of an elder in the twilight of his life is not his history but a legacy; he speaks not to describe matter but to demonstrate meaning. He talks of his past for purposes of his future. This purpose is the prejudice of his memory. He remembers that which has been according to what could and should be, and by this measure sifts the accumulation of his memory: he rejects the irrelevant event, elaborates the significant detail, combines separate incidents of similar principle. Out of physical processes he creates a metaphysical processional. He transposes the chronology of his knowledge into a hierarchy of meanings. From the material circumstances of his experience he plots, in retrospect, the adventure for the mind which is the myth.

Cuvantul unui batran in amurgul vietii nu este istorie, ci testament; el nu vorbeste ca sa descrie o realitate concreta ci ca sa demonstreze un sens. El vorbeste despre trecut avand ca tel viitorul. Acest tel este in dauna amintirilor sale. Pentru ca el isi aminteste ceea ce a fost gandindu-se la ce ar fi putut sau ar fi trebuit sa fie si aceasta este masura cu care isi cerne amintirile adunate de-a lungul vietii; respinge evenimentele irelevante, dezvolta amanuntele semnificative, combina incidente separate care apar guvernate de acelasi principiu. Creaza din procese fizice o procesiune metafizica. Transpune cronologia a ceea ce cunoaste intr-o ierarhie de sensuri. Din circumstantele concrete ale experientei sale el deseneaza, retrospectiv, aventura mintii care este mitul.

My comment:
Thomas Mann begins his Josef und seine Brüder with a long essay on the same subject: he thinks that many similar events create significance and eventually plot a unique story; this is the genesis of the sacred story. There is a radical difference: Maya Deren starts from the need of the mind to give material shape to its reality while Thomas Mann considers the opposite - the material becomes significant by accumulation of similar experiences; for Maya Deren the realities of the mind create a fiction of matter; for Thomas Mann the realities of the matter create a fiction of mind.

Thomas Mann isi incepe Iosif si fratii sai cu un lung eseu despre acelasi subiect: el crede ca un numar mare de evenimente similare creaza semnificatie si in cele din urma se combina intr-o poveste unica; aceasta ar fi geneza istoriilor sacre. Este o diferenta radicala: Maya Deren porneste de la nevoia mintii de a da realitatilor ei o forma materiala pe cand Thomas Mann considera opusul - materia devine semnificativa prin acumularea de experiente similare; pentru Maya Deren realitatile mintii creaza o fictiune a materiei; pentru Thomas Mann realitatile materiei creaza o fictiune a mintii.

Who's right and whos' wrong, Maya or Mann? Let's ask Arghezi:

Am luat cenusa mortilor din vatra
Si am facut-o Dumnezeu de piatra...

(My friend Jean offered me a French version for these verses. Here you go:

Le l'âtre, cendre des aïeuls j'ai pris
Moulant ainsi le Dieu tout empetri.)

This adventure is composed, then, as all fictions are, from the matter of memory at hand - from the specific physical conditions which circumstance imposes and the particular processes which time composes for each individual race. The differences between the tales of the venerable ancients of the various nations are differences, then, between the matter of them. But in all this cosmic variety, the constant is the mind of man. Where it has least to describe outside itself, it displays this constancy most purely, as in the fictions of origins. It is as if the mind, by-passing the particularities of circumstance, the limitations and imprecisions of the senses, arrived, by paths of metaphysical reason, at some common principled truth of the matter.

Aventura aceasta este compusa, ca toate fictiunile, din concretul pe care memoria il are la indemana - din conditiile fizice specifice pe care circumstantele le impun si procesele particulare pe care timpul le compune pentru fiecare rasa. Diferentele dintre povestile batranilor venerabilil din diferite natiuni sunt deci diferente intre concretul lor. Dar in toata aceatsa varietate cosmica mintea omului este cea care ramane constanta. Si unde ea are mai putin concret la indemana, acolo aceasta constanta apare mai pura: este cazul fictiunilor despre origini. Este ca si cum mintea, ocolind particularitatile circumstantelor, limitarile si impreciziile simturilor, ajunge, pe cai ale ratiunii metafizice, la un adevar comun de principiu al concretului.

My comment:
So the myths differ from culture to culture in their concrete envelope only. The need that imposed the creation of myth, the fact of the mind, as Maya calls it, is constant. Paul Tillich says that God is beyond cultures, and that we deal only with an image of God, shaped by culture - when Nietzsche was saying God is dead he meant the death of a certain culture, so of a certain image of God (at least this was the way Tillich was interpreting Nietzsche).

Asadar miturile difera de la cultura la cultura doar in invelisul lor concret. Nevoia care a impus creatia mitului, faptul mintii, cum il numeste Maya, este constant. Paul Tillich spune ca Dumnezeu este dincolo de culturi, iar noi avem treaba numai cu o imagine a lui Dumnezeu, slefuita de cultura - cand Nietzsche spunea ca Dumnezeu este mort el intelegea moartea unei anumite culturi, deci a unei anumite imagini a lui Dumnezeu (cel putin asta este felul in care il interpreteaza Tillich pe Nietzsche).

The fictions begin with a solemn fanfare, less for the Person of the First Source, than for the moment of creation. The metaphors of the diverse myths differ; the nature of the Cosmic Catalyst is the same. It is an energy which, out of the anonymity of void, of chaos, of the wholeness of a Cosmic Egg, crystallizes the major elements, precipitates the primary areas, and finally differentiates the first androgynous life (as the solitary Adam) into the twinned specializations: male and female. This is the function of beginnings, couched in the past tense. But the chants are not in memoriam. They may be heard as a celebration of each contemporary recapitulation of that first creation. The microcosmic egg rides the red tides of the womb which, like the green tides, still rise and recede with the moon; the latest life, like the first, flows with the seas' chemistry, is first anonymous, then androgynous, becomes differentiated, is beached in a surf, its heart reverberates a life-time with the pending momentum of the primal sea pulse. The beginning, which no man witnessed, is ever present, ever before us. When we come to perceive the final fact of the matter, we find that it was conceived by the mind in the first fiction of the myth.

Fictiunile incep cu o fanfara solemna, onorand nu atat Persoana Cauzei Prime cat momentul creatiei. Metaforele diferitlor mituri difera intre ele; natura Catalizatorului Cosmic este insa aceeasi. Este o energie care, din anonimitatea neantului, sau a haosului, sau a Oului Cosmic, cristalizeaza elementele principale, pregateste precipitatele zonelor primare, iar in final diferentiaza prima viata androgina (solitarul Adam) in specializarile pereche: mascul si femela. Aceasta este functia inceputurilor, exprimata la timpul trecutului. Numai ca aceste cantari nu sunt in memoriam. Ele pot fi auzite ca o celebrare a fiecarei recapitulari contemporane a primei creatii. Oul microcosmic calareste mareele rosii ale pantecelui care, la fel ca mareele verzi, creste si descreste odata cu luna; viata cea mai recenta, la fel ca prima, se deruleaza odata cu celelalte transformari chimice care au loc in apele Cosmosului, este mai intai anonima, apoi androgina, devine diferentiata, este azvarlita pe plaja de catre miscarea valurilor, inima ei reverbereaza cu acel moment de timp indepartat al primului impuls al apelor. Inceputul, caruia nimeni nu i-a fost martor, este totdeauna prezent, totdeauna in fata noastra. Cand percepem actul final al Materiei, ne dam seama ca mintea l-a conceput in prima fictiune a Mitului.

My comments:
Microcosm mirrors Macrocosm. The everyday mirrors the Beginning. Matter mirrors Idea, only we should free our eyes, to see beyond the obvious.
Watch the first images of At Land: life is beached in a surf...

Microcosmosul oglindeste Macrocosmosul. Cotidianul oglindeste Inceputul. Materia oglindeste Ideea, doar sa ne eliberam ochii ca sa vedem dincolo de evidenta
.
Uitati-va la primele imagini din At Land: viata este azvarlita pe plaja de catre miscarea valurior.

But the accomplishment of matter is always as an overture to the major movement of the myth, the accomplishment of moral man. Matter creates the matter of man. But this creature, who may intermittently feel hunger and fatigue, would not understand the intervals as time; it might sense itself at first weak, then strong, then weak again, but would not comprehend this change as age; it might come to perceive the logics of matter and might observe, eventually, the reason for the succession of seasons, for natural sequences of natural events. But the reasons in matter are still a property of matter; its meaning, conceived in the marriage of matter and mind, is a property of the human mind. As chaos contained the possibbility of matter, so this creature contains the possibility of a mind, like a fifth limb latent in man, structured to make and manipulate meaning as the fist is structured to grasp and finger matter.

Dar implinirea materiei este intotdeauna o urvertura catre miscarea majora a mitului, implinirea omului moral. Materia creaza materia omului. Insa acesta creatura, care poate simti din cand in cand foamea si oboseala nu va intelege intervalele de timp; s-ar putea sa se simta mai intai slab, apoi puternic, apoi din nou slab, dar nu va intelege aceste schimbari ca varsta; i se poate intampla sa patrunda logica materiei si s-ar putea sa observe, in cele din urma, ratiunea succesiunii anotimpurilor, ca insiruire de secvente naturale a unor evenimente naturale. Dar ratiunile din materie sunt inca proprietati ale materiei; sensul lor, zamislit in cununia dintre materie si gandire, este o proprietate a mintii umane. Asa cum haosul continea posibilitatea materiei, si aceasta creatura contine posibilitatea gandirii, ca un al cincilea membru, alaturi de maini si picioare, dar inca latent in om, structurat sa creeze si sa manipuleze sens, asa cum pumnul este structurat sa apuce si sa se joace cu materia.

My comments:
Superb demonstration for the place of the myth in human nature: to differentiate the human from the rest of the nature.

Superba demonstratie a locului mitului in natura umana: pentru diferentierea omului fata de restul naturii.

And I come again to Arghezi:

Din graiul lor cu-ndemnuri pentru vite
Eu am ivit cuvinte potrivite.


The fictions of old men are their final fecundity. As their flesh once labored to bring forth flesh, so the minds of the elders labor, with a like passion, to bring forth a mind. By rites of initiation they would accomplish the metamorphosis of matter into man, the evolution of a mind for meaning in the animal which is the issue of their flesh. By this they would insure that the race endure as a race of men. The rites of this second birth, into the metaphysical cosmos, everywhere mime the condition of the first physical birth. The novice is purified of past, relieved of possessions, made innocent, placed nascent in the womb solitude of a dark room. The matter, which is himself, and the myth of the race, are joined. His solitary meditation is a gestation and, in the end, a man emerges by ordeal, to be newly named, newly rejoiced in.

Povestile batranilor sunt fecunditatea lor finala. Asa cum carnea lor a lucrat odata pentru a aduce carne, acum mintea lor lucreaza cu o pasiune egala pentru a aduce minte. Ei vor indeplini, prin rituri initiatice, metamorfoza materiei in om, evolutia mintii spre sens, in animalul care este produsul carnii lor. Prin aceasta ei se vor asigura ca rasa dureaza mai departe ca rasa umana. Riturile acestei a doua nasteri, in cosmosul metafizic, mimeaza pretutindeni conditia primei nasteri, cea fizica. Novicele este purificat de trecut, eliberat de povara averilor, facut inocent, bagat precum un prunc pe cale de a se naste in singuratea de pantec a unei camere intunecoase. Materia, care este tanarul insusi, si mitul rasei, sunt puse unul langa celalalt. Meditarea solitara a tanarului este o gestatie si la sfarsit din chinurile nasterii iese un om, pentru a primi un nume nou si pentru a fi un nou motiv de bucurie.

My comment:
Ritual finds in this paragraph its glorious chant. After assessing our need for myth Maya starts to explain here the place of the ritual, as a support for myth.

Ritualul isi afla in acest paragraf cantarea sa de slava. Dupa ce a stabilit nevoia noastra de mit, Maya incepe aici sa explice locul ritualului, ca suport al mitului.

Says Arghezi,


Aseaz-o cu credinta capatai,
Ea e hrisovul vostru cel dintai
Al robilor, cu saricile pline
De osemintele varsate-n mine.


But who first informed the ancestral elders of the various nations? What was the common inspiration of their common fanfare for origins, their common fiction of initiation, their common metaphor of metamorphosis? No man has ever witnessed the moment when life begins; it is in the moment of its ending that the limits of life, hence life itself, are manifest. Death, as the edge beyond which life does not extend, delineates a first boundary of being. Thus the ending is, for man, the beginning: the condition of his first consciousness of self as living. Death is life's first and final definition. The fanfare for cosmic origins is followed by this major fugue: the initial figure is a lament of the living for the dead; and the voice which first propunds the major themes of life, love and generation is borne up from the abyss as the flesh was first, and is still, born from the deep seas of chaos. The hero of man's metaphysical adventure - his healer, his redeemer, his guardian - is always a corpse. He is Osiris, or Adonis, or Christ.

Dar cine a fost primul care i-a informat pe stramosii ancestrali ai diferitelor neamuri? Care a fost inspiratia lor comuna pentru imnul comun de slava a inceputurilor, pentru fictiunea comuna a initierii, pentru metafora comuna a metamorfozei? Nimeni nu a fost martor momentului cand viata incepe; este momentul sfarsitului cand granitele vietii, deci viata insasi, devin manifeste. Moartea, culme dincolo de care viata nu se mai extinde, ea delimiteaza un prim hotar pentru fiinta. Astfel ca pentru om sfasitul devine un inceput: pentru ca este conditia primei lui constientizari de sine ca fiinta vie. Moartea este pentru viata definitia de inceput si de sfarsit. Iar cantarea de slava pentru originile cosmice este urmata de acesta fuga principala: prima tema a fugii este un lamento al celor in viata pentru cel mort; iar vocea care care pune in discutie temele majore ale vietii, dragostei si generarii, se naste din abis, asa cum carnea s-a nascut de la inceput si mereu dupa aceea, din apele adanci ale haosului. Iar eroul aventurii metafizice a omului - tamaduitorul, izbavitorul, pastorul - este intotdeauna un cadavru. Este Osiris, este Adonis, este Crist.

My comment:
Maya will speak further about life and void: life starting from void and ending in void and I will comment this for the next paragraph. For now, I can see here Maya's link between myth - ritual - dance: facts of the mind, initiation, metamorphosis - myth as a metaphor for the facts of the mind - ritual as a metaphor for initiation - dance as a metaphor for metamorphosis through myth and ritual - and I come again to a phrase that I read long time ago in a book about Bach - the liturgy in the Ethiopian Church contains moments when priests dance in the altar.

Maya va vorbi mai departe despre viata si neant: viata incepe in neant si se sfarseste in neant si voi comenta aceasta pentru urmatorul paragraf. Acum vreau sa spun ca vad aici legatura facuta de Maya intre mit - ritual - dans: fapte ale gandirii, initiere, metamorfoza - mitul ca metafora a faptelor gandirii - ritualul ca metafora a initierii - dansul ca metafora a metamorfozei prin mit si ritual - si iarasi vin la o fraza pe care am citit-o cu multa vreme in urma intr-o carte despre Bach - liturghia in Biserica Etiopiana contine momente in care preotii danseaza in altar.

But death itself we recognize not so much by what it is by the fact that it is not life. As the land and the sea define each other at the shore, so life and death define each other by exclusion. These, which are immediate neighbors in the realm of matter, are separated by a difference which is as a vast distance in the realm of meaning. Myth is the voyage of exploration in this metaphysical space. The point of departure is the first meeting between the quick and the dead.

Insa moartea insasi nu este recunoscuta de noi prin ceea ce este cat prin faptul ca ea nu este viata. Asa cum marea si pamantul se definesc una pe cealalta la tarm, tot asa viata si moartea se definesc una pe cealalta prin excludere. Vecine imediate pe taramul materiei, viata si moartea sunt separate printr-o vasta distanta pe taramul sensului. Mitul este calatoria de explorare a acestui spatiu metafizic. Punctul de plecare este prima intalnire dintre nestins si stins.

My comment:
On the gravestone of Ozu there is only one hieroglyph: MU. It means VOID. Life is surrounded by void.

You can see the separation between them as a shore. Remember the movie of
Jarmusch, Dead Man: it ends on a shore, and the character played by Johnny Depp leaves us in a small boat - the whole movie is actually a journey in the metaphysical space between life and death.

Also the perfect movie of Maya,
Meshes of the Afternoon (a friend of mine, Dan, has found a splendid Romanian title for it, Paienjenisul Amiezii) explores the shore between life and death.

Or you can see the separation between life and death as an edge. For Arghezi, it is a high edge looking down at two universes, teaching us about meaning, value, and duty
:

Hotar inalt cu doua lumi in poale,
Pazind in piscul datoriei tale.


Pe piatra tombala a lui Ozu exista doar o hieroglifa: MU. Inseamna NIMIC. Viata este inconjurata de catre nimic. In afara vietii exista nimicul. Putem vedea separatia dintre ele ca pe un tarm. Amintiti-va filmul lui Jarmusch, Dead Man: se termina pe un tarm, iar personajul interpretat de catre Johnny Depp ne paraseste intr-o barcuta - intregul film este de fapt o calatorie in spatiul metafizic dintre viata si moarte. De asemenea, perfectul film al Mayei Deren, Meshes of the Afternoon (unul din prietenii mei, Dan, a gasit un titlu splendid pe romaneste, Paienjenisul Amiezii), exploreaza tarmul dintre viata si moarte. Sau putem vedea hotarul dintre viata si moarte ca un pisc. Pentru Arghezi, este un pisc inalt, privind in jos spre doua universuri, purtand invatatura despre sens, valoare si datorie.

To enter a new myth is a moment of initiation. One must return to the moment before myth, anterior to all its inventions, when the myth of any man might still become the myth of any other. It is to enter, in one's mind, the room which is both womb and tomb, to become innocent of everything except the motivation for myth, the natural passion of the mind for meaning. It is to meditate upon the common human experience which is the origin of the human effort to comprehend the human condition.

Intrarea intr-un nou mit este un moment de initiere. Trebuie sa te intorci la momentul dinainte de mit, inainte de toate inventiile produse in numele lui, la momentul acela in care mitul oricarui om poate inca deveni mitul oricarui altuia. Inseamna sa intri cu gandirea ta in incaperea care este si pantece, si mormant, sa devii inocent in toate, pastrandu-ti doar motivatia pentru mit, acea pasiune naturala a gandirii pentru aflarea sensului. Inseamna sa meditezi asupra experientei umane comune care este originea efortului uman de a intelege si cuprinde conditia umana.

My comment:
Maya came the first time to Haiti to make a movie about Voodoo dances. The movie would remain unfinished, she would be absorbed by the whole Voodoo culture. The remaining years of her life would be devoted to understand deeper and deeper the Voodoo universe. She spoke in the preface of her book about the metamorphosis: she had come as an artist, she realized that the reality was too powerful to be manipulated in an artistic way. So Maya was considering that Haiti was for her a defeat as an artist while a victory in understanding something fundamental about the human condition.
My guess is that Maya had been looking from the very beginning for the prime truth, for the fact of the mind beyond the fiction of matter. It was in Haiti that she realized the power of her call, but it was from the beginning. Her movies are silent, because they search for the fact of the prime truth, beyond the words. Words make it manifest, also envelop the truth in their fiction. Silent ritual express the prime truth more honestly. Dance express the prime truth more honestly. That is what her movies are about. Maya was looking for the moment before the myth.

Maya venise prima oara in Haiti ca sa faca un film despre dansurile Voodoo. Filmul va ramane neterminat, ea va fi absorbita de intreaga cultura Voodoo. Anii care aveau sa ii mai ramana de trait vor fi dedicati intelegerii tot mai adanci a universului Voodoo. Ea a vorbit in prefata cartii ei despre metamorfoza: venise ca artista, a inteles ca realitatea era mult prea puternica pentru a fi manipulata artistic. Asa incat Maya considera ca Haiti fusese pentru ea o infrangere ca artista, dar o victorie in intelegerea catorva lucruri fundamentale pentru conditia umana.
Parerea mea este ca Maya a cautat de la bun inceput adevarul prim, acel fapt al gandirii care se afla dincolo de fictiunea materiei. In Haiti ea a inteles puterea chemarii sale, dar chemarea a fost de la inceput. Filmele ei sunt fara cuvinte, pentru ca ele cauta adevarul prim de dincolo de cuvinte. Cuvintele il fac manifest, dar il si imbraca in fictiunea lor. Ritualul in tacere exprima adevarul prim cu mai multa onestitate. Dansul exprima adevarul prim cu mai multa onestitate. Despre asta sunt filmele ei. Maya cauta momentul dinainte de mit
.

(Maya's Song)

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