here are the opening few minutes of Andrzej Wajda’s film “Ashes and Diamonds.” There’s some violence, but then most of the movie after that (until the end) is a lyrical exploration of emotions and relationships in post-war Poland. If you haven’t seen it, it really is the greatest movie I’ve ever seen. Ever.
Monthly Archives: August 2011
Warsaw!
Dear Milo, and everyone,
It has been a whirlwind few days; I got back from the trip visiting Teatr Cinema in the mountains, I packed up and moved out of the Wroclaw apartment, and I got on a plane to Warsaw. Things are settling down now and I have lots of pictures to share–I took a whole bunch of Wroclaw, Michalowice, and of my first day here in Warsaw–but my blogging is limited by the lack of Internet connectivity at my hostel. I am otherwise really enjoying staying at the place, but I am frustrated that the free WiFi they promised on their website doesn’t work for Macs.
Some time soon I will find a cafe and do some update blogging and photograph-posting–but for now, I am having too much fun running around Warsaw to oblige. This place reminds me, a lot, of Chicago. Big open streets, a largely flat city, a huge river, powerful winds, and people enjoying the summer like they know it’s going to end. (And, of course, the presence of lots of Polish people.)
More soon,
Dara
Day of the Blessed Mother of Herbs
August 15, 2011
Dear Milo,
I didn’t realize today was a Polish national holiday until I left the house. My favorite Piekarnia Familia was closed, as was every other piekarnia (bakery) on my walk to the theater. It was too quiet for a Monday, and the people I did see on the street were walking slowly, holding their children’s hands, taking photographs, or carrying little bunches of flowers and plants tied in green and yellow twine.
I still had to get some work done today, though, even though it was a holiday, because I’ll be taking the bus to Jelenia Góra tomorrow to spend some time (just a day or so) with the surrealist theater company Teatr Cinema.
I did all I could to dissuade him from it
“…This transaction fixed Ralph in his resolution of becoming a poet. I did all I could to dissuade him from it, but he continued scribbling verses till Pope cured him. He became, however, a pretty good prose writer. More of him hereafter.”
-The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin
in brief,
The blog has been silent for a few days because I’ve been busy trying to get some new paperwork finished. These obligations are crucial. But I’ve been watching lots of great SOTG archival footage of old, wonderful productions–on which more later–and I am thrilled beyond words that Philip Levine is the poet laureate.
“Like most great triumphs, Levine’s achievement has a simple beginning.
It was the early 1940s and 13-year-old Levine was living by the outskirts of Detroit, about a mile from 8 Mile Road. That was back when the city really ended at its borders; Levine remembers there were five or so houses in an area of six city blocks and, beyond that, emptiness.
After dinner, he went out into the groves of trees. He would stand in the dirt, in the dusk, in the dark, and compose poetry in his head. He’d always had a fantastic memory, so it was no trouble to recite and revise his words on the spot. It became a weekly ritual.
“What I found was a voice within myself that I didn’t know was there,” said Levine, now 83.”
– Jessica Goldstein’s “Profile of Philip Levine, poet laureate” in the Washington Post this morning
And here are the beginning stanzas of one of my favorites of Levine’s poems, “You Can Have It.” The rest is online here at the Poetry Foundation site.
My brother comes home from work
and climbs the stairs to our room.
I can hear the bed groan and his shoes drop
one by one. You can have it, he says.The moonlight streams in the window
and his unshaven face is whitened
like the face of the moon. He will sleep
long after noon and waken to find me gone.Thirty years will pass before I remember
that moment when suddenly I knew each man
has one brother who dies when he sleeps
and sleeps when he rises to face this life,and that together they are only one man
sharing a heart that always labors, hands
yellowed and cracked, a mouth that gasps
for breath and asks, Am I gonna make it?[…]
– Opening stanzas of “You Can Have It,” by Philip Levine. Read the rest of the poem here.
lazy niedziela
Dear Milo,
Many stores in Poland are closed on Sundays. The streets were very quiet–the people who were out and about in the morning seemed to have a sort of devil-may-care skipping-church demeanor, compared to the usual seriousness. I may have been imagining that, though. The Biedronka (ladybug) grocery store was only open for a few hours. I went in and got groceries for the week for about 37 zlotys. (That’s less than $15.)
It was a gray day, with intermittent rain. This was the view out the window–I tried to take it when the clouds were as ominous as possible. This is at about 8 PM.
See how the winds of change do blow the clouds hither and thither?
I avoided the clouds, stayed in and did more laundry (you go through a lot of clothes when you work out as much as I was doing in the two SOTG workshops!). I did some freelance work. A lot of writing happening in this down time.
And (drumroll) I spent a few hours uploading films from ANTHOLOGY I to Parallel Octave’s YouTube channel. Some time tomorrow or the day after, you’ll be able to see 6 of the 8 films online. This is the kind of thing that takes a lot of time, but is well worth it. There’s no speeding it up. You just have to say to yourself, “Well, I’m waiting for the video to upload.” Like watching water boil.
Speaking of watching water boil, I also finally some more few pictures of the temporary apartment and the view from my window, while I was making dinner. They follow.
We were completely surrounded by critics
Dear Milo,
Raining? Sunny? Doesn’t matter; have no intention of going outside today, or at least, not beyond the courtyard. Today I have nowhere to be and I’m catching up on freelance work, cleaning off a desktop, doing laundry, taking out the trash, having space and time to reconnect the dots. I really needed this. Nothing makes you appreciate a day off like the exhaustion of rehearsal.
But it’s more than that; it’s the exhaustion of moving to a new country, the Polish language intensive, the graduation and the thesis, the final semester, the stress and sadness of leaving friends behind. I was and am well and truly worn out. Succeeding at something can be just as crazy as failing at it, and those two states can seem remarkably similar.
What’s the problem?
“I was trying to explain what the problem was, but what was the problem? I felt tears well in my eyes. We were completely surrounded by critics. The critics had opinions about everything, from the distribution of literary prizes to the advantages of a macrobiotic diet.
At some point we headed back into the rain. Although I had quit smoking six months ago, I paused to bum an American Spirit from a conveniently situated critic. “I thought you quit,” my agent said. ”
-That’s Elif Batuman, in the Guardian, on the stresses and crazinesses of having one particular dream come true; “Life after a Bestseller.” Via Explosion-Proof‘s site.
Getting what you want can be rough.
These bumps in the road are part of what the experience will contain, I understand, and I am getting used to it. I am grateful to everyone who’s been helping me navigate. You don’t have to look pretty in the ring; you just have to stay standing.
To get myself through said bumps, I have been writing lots. I did silly things, like creating (a year late) a properly designed triple-tracking submissions spreadsheet. I did some work in genres that have been neglected due to the prevailing influence of Planet Poetry. And I even found, under my computer cushions, an old post I’d been meaning to post since May.
So here’s something I wrote when I knew I was coming here but hadn’t gotten here yet. It’s a bit droopy, but perhaps you can understand, given the circumstances.
Three types of failure-uity
Caro Milo,
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that I haven’t learned anything. If there’s another thing I’ve learned, it’s that it never gets easier. If there’s one thing I’ve learned–see thing 1.
The blog has been silent for the past week while I’ve been taking G2’s workshop with SOTG. Although I have many thoughts on the exercises we did, they aren’t thoughts that are ready to share. Instead, on a quiet day off–all my friends from the workshops have departed Poland, the apartment is empty, and silence blankets me in Wroclaw–I thought it would be a good time to talk some about the Nowy Horizonty film festival and the idea of failure in the arts.
(SILENCE)
How do you feel about that? I feel about it roughly the way I do about the idea of someone beginning a yoga class by saying “We’re going to focus on core strength today.” Spinach!
[animated jpeg of cheerleaders: F! A! F-A-I! F-A-I-L-U-R-E! FAILURE! FAILURE! WHAT’S THAT SPEEEEELLLLL…? FAILURE!]
My friend D has been in town from Berlin for the past week, too, and while he was here we saw two movies at Kino Helios as part of the festival; “The Seventh Bullet,” a Soviet Western directed by Ali Khamraev, and Lost in La Mancha, which probably needs no introduction, but is a documentary about Terry Gilliam’s failed attempt to film Don Quixote.
Dara Weinberg 