Perm Museum XXI

Designed by Valerio Olgiati. Read about it here.

in the snow

Auckland's winter just doesn't cut it. I want a Russian winter again. One with snow, bare trees, inconvenience and romance.

The bottom photo is mine, the other is a we heart it one that I lost the name of, sorry.

Ivan, Boris et Moi

rrriot

Images from the Joffrey Ballet's recreation of Nijinksy's choreography of Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring (whew!). When it premiered with Les Ballet Russes in Paris in 1913, it caused a riot. I'll probably dream some strange dreams tonight.

on the cusp

"What has our culture lost in 1980 that the avant-garde had in 1890? Ebullience, idealism, confidence, the belief that there was plenty of territory to explore, and above all the sense that art, in the most disinterested and noble way, could find the necessary metaphors by which a radically changing culture could be explained to its inhabitants."
Robert Hughes, The Shock of the New.

The people, ideas and art movements from the turn of the last century and the years loosley surrounding it have always fascinated me in a terribly unacademic and romantic way. There were so many things happening around the same time: modernity creeping in, the first world war brewing (with machine guns), bohemian artists collaborating in Paris, the last days of the Romonavs...

Further reading could include Hughes' The Shock of the New and Bohemian Paris: Picasso, Modigliani, Matisse, and the Birth of Modern Art.

Photo of a dancer from Diaghilev's Ballet Russes from here.

paullina paullina

I'm reading a trashy novel at the moment, and I can't put it down. Not even on the bus today, when I stumbled upon the fabled 100 pages of sex scenes. I was, of course, sitting next to a slightly wierd dude who smelt a bit so I tried to keep the book away from his line of vision. An excerpt:

'They couldn't even wait to get home. He carried the trunk into the pines and sat down on it. Tatiana climbed on top of him. "Don't be too loud in the woods," he told her, lifting her onto himself and kissing her.'

That goes on for 100 pages.

But the thing about this book is: everyone you know has secretly read it. It's really, really moreish. It's epic and sweeping and full of romance and longing glances and then BAM! 100 pages of Tatiana discovering the joy of sex in the woods with Alexander.

It wants to be a bit like Doctor Zhivago

If you want to read this book(and you probably do) go running over to your mum's house, it probably is part of her book club reading list. If you have a girlfriend who owns all seven seasons of Gilmore Girls on DVD and majored in english so she could do a paper on Jane Austen, go ask her. She totally read this book on the sly and became slightly obsessed. Those girlfriends are awesome. Oh, it is called The Bronze Horseman. Boom!

my baby just wrote me a letter

Originally, I found this to be waay too long for my plebian tastes but it grows on you. This is actually a shorter version than the one I have on my ipod. The more I listen to it the more I realise how much every note is needed to make the point, how you can hear the excitement and the hope and the longing develop.

My favourite rendition of this is by Nuccia Focile (what a name...) but sadly it is not on the internet. So instead I chose this one by Terese Zylis-Gara. Its not really worth watching but you should definitely listen to it. It was amazing seeing Anna Leese perform it live, too.

While we're at it, this is Lensky's aria from Onegin. This one really gets the Russophile in me going! It just sounds so damn RUSSIAN. and melancholy. He's about to duel his best friend, which is why. NOTE: This singer looks a bit like Trotsky. Ours, Roman Shulackoff, looked like Heathcliff! Big wigs are always the right choice.



PS. Wasn't our production beautiful? Sets by Genevieve Blanchett and Direction by Patrick Nolan, conducted by Alexander Polianichko. Images by Jane Ussher for NBR NZ Opera.