Tarots of our lives

I've had this post in my mind for some time, but I don't have much to say about tarot cards, so let's just skip to the pretty.

This first set includes a few images of the Persona 3 tarot. Something about the bold, primary colors, lack of shading, and stylisation gives the cards a distinctly 21st century pop feel, but they're not exactly minimalist; the faces on the heavenly body cards (Star, Moon, and Sun) look like they'd fit right into a medieval picture.







High res images from Alexander Kuzimski.

Fan Bingbing

I look like shit when I fall asleep. Clearly, I need personal trainers, the right set of genes, and photoshop.

Picture from cfensi.

Miuccia Prada and the Mulleavy Sisters

I think of these ladies as my heroes and icons (as creepy as that sounds). The Mulleavy sisters, the founders of the Rodarte fashion brand, are both graduates of UC Berkeley. Kate studied art history and Laura studied English literature.

Sometimes I wish I could be like them. They studied artsy stuff (like I am) and they started a successful and quickly growing fashion company (I'd rather go into costuming, but the similarities are there).

But then I remember that I don't have creative talent.

Miuccia Prada I have grown fond of because she's just a little weird. She took over the company in 1979, has a degree in political science, apparently studied to be a mime, was a former member of the Communist Party (according to her, every rich young person back then was), kinda feminist (I'm not quite sure what's going on here, but let's bring this conversation back from the brink of politicking), and, of course, designs for a high fashion company.

But the main reason I like her so much is the way she views sexuality. Prada "has an eye for the perverse. Her work is about inversion and parody, making otherwise dowdy garments desirable, while simultaneously taking the sex out of sexy." One needs only to look at her Fall 2008 collection: what ought to be little-girl fare becomes severe, funereal, church-like sexiness. Fetishistic chastity. Decadent virginity, if you will.

And I'm all about the teasing and not about the pleasing.

When the World was Young

Snatched from the Chateau. Absolutely beautiful.

Shirts

Oh balls. I bought a bunch of shirts and, because I momentarily forgot how fat I am, they're a size smaller than what I should wear.

I guess I'll be burning some eyeballs when I try them on.

Shiina Ringo x Saito Neko - Gamble

Pretty damn awesome. I prefer the remix for Sakuran, but that movie never had an official soundtrack. Woeface.

Queen

I should probably do something about the fact that my favorite type of music is the kind that slowly kills brain cells.

Today I went to the San Jose Museum of Art

See title.

There were a few pieces I was greatly enamored with. First, this very cute stop-motion clip titled "A Wolf Loves Pork."



Next up the Listening Post. The video doesn't do justice to the installation: the entire room echoes with the nonsensical voices, and entire separate bits of posts move across each monitor, making it almost impossible to follow a single one.



Then there were the paintings. These next two were by Sandow Birk, and the computer quality is pretty shitty. These paintings are so much bigger and more impressive in person, especially Purgatorio. The last one is Painting #3 from Themes for the Fin de Siecle, meant to accompany a text written in 1940. The beautiful iron gate works well with the foreboding atmosphere of the piece. In person, it's very glossy, almost like a book cover. Beauty in fear and war. I like.

Suspiria

Today, I watched Suspiria, one of the most weirder movies I've seen.

Made in 1977 by Dario Argento, Suspiria takes place at a dance academy. Suzy Bannion, a new student, arrives the same night another student is murdered. As she stays, she is not comforted by the unusual staff, her sudden fatigue, or the continuing murders. When she discovers the school's past as a place of witchcraft, she decides to uncover the mystery behind the school.

Sound familiar? I'm pretty sure Suspiria was at least partial inspiration for The Woods.

Suspiria is an interesting film. The story is rather weak (actually rather fairy tale-like, which makes sense as Snow White was one of Argento's inspirations; given that understanding, the somewhat simplistic story becomes easier to accept) and for a horror film, there is never really any fear or terror. Suspiria is an experience, a beautiful and unusual vision. It won't make much sense, but it stays with you.

And now for the real reason I watched the film: the sets. I need that office like oxygen.

Ape - A Poem by Russel Edson

Something about this poem seems like it would lend itself well to an ecofeminist critique (Is there a vegan-centered school of literary criticism? I feel like the should be.) But I just like it because it's kind of gross, perversely funny, and has a very weird view of sexuality. Sort of like me.

You haven't finished your ape, said mother to father,
who had monkey hair and blood on his whiskers.

I've had enough monkey, cried father.

You didn't eat the hands, and I went to all the
trouble to make onion rings for its fingers, said mother.

I'll just nibble on its forehead, and then I've had enough,
said father.

I stuffed its nose with garlic, just like you like it, said
mother.

Why don't you have the butcher cut these apes up? You lay
the whole thing on the table every night; the same fractured
skull, the same singed fur; like someone who died horribly. These
aren't dinners, these are post-mortem dissections.

Try a piece of its gum, I've stuffed its mouth with bread,
said mother.

Ugh, it looks like a mouth full of vomit. How can I bite into
its cheek with bread spilling out of its mouth? cried father.

Break one of the ears off, they're so crispy, said mother.

I wish to hell you'd put underpants on these apes; even a
jockstrap, screamed father.

Father, how dare you insinuate that I see the ape as anything
more thn simple meat, screamed mother.

Well what's with this ribbon tied in a bow on its privates?
screamed father.

Are you saying that I am in love with this vicious creature?
That I would submit my female opening to this brute? That after
we had love on the kitchen floor I would put him in the oven, after
breaking his head with a frying pan; and then serve him to my husband,
that my husband might eat the evidence of my infidelity . . . ?

I'm just saying that I'm damn sick of ape every night,
cried father.

Marcus Behmer's Salome

For a while now I've been a fan of Aubrey Beardsley, and that developed into a liking of Salome, probably his most famous set of illustrations. So of course I end up devouring as much Salome-related artwork as possible. Imagine my delight when I happened across a set of illustrations for a 1903 German translation of Wilde's play. The artwork clearly is inspired by Beardsley's work, but where Beardsley's art was positively dripping in Orientalism, Behmer's illustrations are indebted to Germanic folklore.












Images from Re-(en)visioning Salome: The Salomes of Hedwig Lachmann, Marcus Behmer, and Richard Strauss by Norma Chapple.

The Woods

Or: in this post, I get my amateur film criticism on.

In 1965, Heather Fasulo (Agnes Brukner), after nearly burning down her house, is sent to an isolated all-girl's private school headed by Miss Traverse (Patricia Clarkson). Almost immediately, because this is a horror film, she begins having nightmares and hearing voices, all while having to adapt to a new school, bullying included. Of course, the school isn't particularly friendly. The staff looms over the students silent and impersonal, there is hushed gossip about a girl who tried to kill herself, and there are tales of witches who took over the school long ago.

It's pretty easy to figure out what's going to happen in The Woods. The academy, all dull earthy tones with thin vines creeping through never-shut windows and suffocated with potted plants, very quickly foreshadows the revelation that the woods are alive. When the girls discuss the witches the invaded the school, coupled with a very early comment that the staff consists of former students, it's not hard to see where that is going to. Even the bully eventually coming out and telling Heather that she's trying to help her is subtly lit by her aggressive harassment and warnings.

Even as predictable as it is, The Woods is a decent film. The mise en scene does a good job of setting up the suffocating atmosphere of the school, and the aforementioned vines do a nice job of providing a paranoid fear of encroaching terror. My only real quibble is that I would have liked to have seen the whole "1965 girls' school" thing taken further, a bit more exploration of the social expectations and molding that often go on in single-sex schools; they touched a bit upon that with malicious gossip of lesbianism in the periphery.

A nice cup of vague sacrilege to wake you up

Fuck restricting posts. It's my blog, I do what I wont (and that includes not bothering to change the tags).



Someone on OMONA They Didn't! said they were getting ready for conservative Christian backlash. I thought that was silly until I remembered how very Christian Korea is.

In related news, I just learned that YouTube lets you edit the size of the video when embedding. I'm so good with technology!

BBI-Ri-BOp-ARGLEBARGLE and Break It

Along with a music video, have a teaser for what looks to be an amazing club banger with fierce visuals. I must say, as tiresome as she can get, Lady Gaga certainly brought back music videos as an experience. On the downside, now anyone with a visually striking MV is accused of ripping off Gaga. Delicious irony.



Now for an actual vid. Magic waterbending dancing is amazing.

Fan Bingbing

On anyone else, this dress would look ridiculous. But when genetically blessed, one can rock even something that a Magikarp would wear.