#only one canto performance so far unfortunately

[liu-anhuaming]

So I’ve decided that, as part of my rewatch of 《我是歌手》, I’m going to start making playlists of all the performances. I’ve already started season one’s playlist, and I’ve got all the performances for episodes 1-3 on there

[luthienne]

Hello, I love your blog <3I didn't know you were a singer. Who are your favorite opera singers (any gender)? Also, what do you think of contemporary opera singing? I think much of the singers that are considered stars nowadays are really poor in voice quality production, and the industry now prefers more mellow voices instead of stronger, more developed ones. I'm not versed in music at all (I just love listening to opera), so I'd be genuinely curious to hear from someone so experienced!

and even if I try listening to/watching productions/recordings now wanting to like them, I don't feel they sing with the same force and artistry as they did before. So I always end up listening to older recordings. Thank you for your blog <3

hi <3 so i actually think there are so many amazing singers out there today and the idolization of old stars like callas or scotto or freni can do a disservice to the stunning talent that we have (or could have) onstage today. i see a lot of these comments on youtube videos and as a contemporary opera singer, it can feel a little disheartening. yes, singers today don’t sound like callas or sills, but neither did sutherland or bartoli or price (or callas, herself! she experienced so much emotional trauma in trying to meet the expectations of opera-goers who had idolized her voice at a specific period of time in her life). not to mention how much more we expect of contemporary opera singers—and not just bc we’re comparing them to the recordings of opera legends. singers today are expected to have studied all of the old recordings bc we have such easy access, we’re expected to create our own brands, to market ourselves, to be models and sound studios, to have studied stage combat and movement and to be able to complete athletic feats onstage while singing (i performed in a don giovanni where i was expected run up and down the stairs, then crawl across the stage on my hands and knees all while singing batti batti).

i think there are tons of issues with contemporary opera: the focus on the body over the voice, the structural/power imbalances that give singers very little power, the institutional barriers that keep less economically privileged and non-white singers from ever making it to the big stages or from pursuing the education at all, the ageism that goes hand in hand with the exclusivity of the field (the idea that there is one single track for opera singers: undergrad to grad school to pay-to-sings, to summers working for poverty wages in YAPs, w cut-off ages of 25 / 28 / 30 as though we can all get our lives together in that time period, as though we don’t need to be working one or multiple day jobs just to pay off our student loans and pay rent in cities with high COL bc the opportunities are there), etc. i just don’t think that the way singers sound today vs the way they sounded 50 years ago is one of the issues.

when you say mellow over stronger i’m not quite sure how to understand that. i’ve personally always had a “lighter” voice with a warmer/darker tone while a girl i went to grad school with had a very “strong” voice but with a very bright squillo in her tone. art is so subjective. who’s to say which of us had the “better” voice? (neither of us!! bc we’re not in competition!! our voices were simply different and suited to different music bc we’re human beings with completely different bodies and vocal cords and it’s unreasonable to expect us to achieve the same sounds!!). yes, there are different schools of singing and we can achieve a similar bel canto sound. it’s still unrealistic to expect either of us to sound like a completely different opera singer.

anyway, as far as contemporary singers i would recommend!! let’s go: lisette oropesa is one of the most talented singers ever to grace an opera stage, and she’s only 37!! her technique is !!!!! flawless. it’s a perfect bel canto technique. (i’ve attended her masterclasses and she is an equally amazing educator! she knows her stuff.) erin morley, ailyn pérez, lawrence brownlee, jessica pratt, julia bullock, morris robinson, janai brugger, pretty yende, renee fleming, joyce didonato, angel blue, susan graham, jamie barton are currently performing singers who have all my respect! 💗

i really appreciated your question and your thoughts!! and i hope you understand that my own feelings toward contemporary opera come from a place of deep feeling for the art form and the deep desire for opera to be made more accessible in general. but it is an art form, and thus completely subjective, and if you prefer singers from older recordings that’s totally ok. the older stars were stars for a reason! and i have learned so much from listening to them and watching them sing. my old italian voice teacher (who had flawless technique) studied with freni, and had me study the pedagogical writings of rosa ponselle. there’s a reason they had such long careers, and it’s bc their technique was rooted in healthy singing. unfortunately our current system prioritizes profit over longevity of career, so often big name singers will be asked to take on roles their voices are not suited for or ready for. (another problem that i think lies with the industry rather than the singers.)

[starlightsearches]

Kylo x reader. Kylo sewing reader for the first time and instantly realizing hes hooked, love at first sight. Tries to ignore it and realizes he can’t. Thanks!!

Escape

Hello lovely anons! Thank you for these wonderful requests, I have decided to combine them because they are so similar, and I hope you love it! This is actually an idea that I’ve played around with for a long time, and I’m so glad I finally got the opportunity to write it!

Requests are closed ✨

Kylo Ren X Fem! Reader

AN: Oh my hell this is a long one (like over 4k words). I’m not going to check—because I am incredibly lazy—but I think this is the longest request I’ve written. Warnings for major pining, angst, Hux being kind of an ass, and mentions of violence/possible minor character death! 

If you asked those who profit most from the seedier desires of the galaxy, they would tell you that the Coruscant Ballet is the place to make a pretty coin. More credits have changed hands in the grand ballroom of the Coruscant Theatre than in any of the casinos on Canto Bight, and as such, the ballet is host to most of the galaxy’s elite. If you’re looking for someone to solve a problem—to make someone disappear, to find you something rare or strictly off-the-market, to eliminate your competition—you’ll find them at the ballet.

Ren knows this, but he still doesn’t understand why that means he has to be here. All he knows is that there’s a ticket with his name on it, a special invitation from someone the general had been doing business with, and that he was expected to attend. The general prattled on in the transport, rambling about security risks and shows of strength and rallying support. Ren wasn’t listening, not really. He has his own concerns, and they don’t always align with the general’s. Especially when it means that he’ll have to sit through three hours of some ridiculous performance when he could be doing something else. Literally anything else.

The foyer is packed with people—well-dressed and conceited, of course—and the volume in the room noticeably decreases when he and the general enter through the large and ornate doors, the silence immediately filled by violent whispers. They make a show of speaking quietly, but Ren knows exactly what they’re saying about him, what questions they snicker to each other when they get a sight of him. It could be much worse, all things considered; this is Ren's first public appearance of the kind, and—if he has any say in the matter—it will be the last. Part of him itches to give these people something real to talk about, some horrifying demonstration that they could recount later at their other ridiculous social gatherings. Maybe he'd suffocate someone, or launch a whole group of them through the windows.

He doesn't do any of it, of course. He just follows the general into the theatre. The show is about to start.

At least the seats are comfortable, Ren thinks, almost too plush, and they dim the lights as the show begins, throwing the audience into relative darkness. Maybe he could sleep without drawing attention to himself. He is feeling tired—always tired lately—and he rests heavily in his chair, letting his eyelids drift closed, ready to take advantage of this time as best he’s able. His vision blurs between half-closed eyes, and the music begins, soft and sweet and easily ignored. 

Everything changes when you take to the stage. Seeing you emerge from behind the heavy curtains, it's like a lightning strike. His breath catches in his throat, he’s feeling wide awake—more than wide awake—buzzed, electric, starving. He’s never seen anything like you before. He doesn't know how to act.

The hours pass like minutes when you dance, and he’s on the edge of his seat for all of them, his eyes drawn to you and he’s helpless to resist, not that he would ever want to look anywhere else. Your movements speak to power and grace and the command you hold over your body impressive in the extreme, even to someone like him. Ren is both completely ignorant of the story and deeply invested in it; he feels everything you experience, the joy, the betrayal, the mourning. You seem to live it, lost in the tale you create as you move to the music, and when he watches you take your final bow, he’s hooked. He has to see you do that again.

The curtain closes, the light returns without warning and it breaks Ren out of his stupor. Still, he’s full of restless energy, nervous—like there’s some unseen threat, some important quest that he’s left uncompleted. The audience begins to file out much too slowly—and with the leisurely pace the wealthy always seem to take, like time is infinite and free to waste. Ren doesn't have the patience to wait, not when he feels like this.

“Stars, I hate the theatre,” General Hux mumbles under his breath as they stand by their seats, waiting for a break in the crowd, and it irks Ren, pushing him closer to the edge.

“Maybe you lack the culture needed to appreciate it,” he replies snidely, mostly to get a rise out of the general. Mostly. Regardless of his true intentions, the general is offended, and Ren allows himself a small smile over this little victory.

The audience trickles out of the theatre and after an eternity of waiting, Ren finally makes it into the spectacle that is the grand ballroom, but his eyes don’t rest on anything until he’s found you again.

He catches sight of you on the far end of the room with the other dancers, all out of your costumes from the performance and instead wearing dresses in varying pastel shades, looking more like confections or ornaments than trained professionals. The other girls, especially the younger ones, whisper and giggle nervously as they survey the crowd, but you do not participate, smiling good-naturedly but remaining still and silent. When he catches sight of you, the negative feelings inside collapse. He’s free again. He’s not sure how you’ve managed to hold that kind of power over him, but he doesn’t care about that now.

“That woman, with the dancers-” Hux interrupts Ren’s thoughts, gesturing in the direction Ren is already looking, not that he could tell, “is Lady Stadixe. I need to speak with her.” Ren reluctantly takes his eyes off of you to scope out the woman in question. She stands at your side, looking serious—and seriously irritated—shooting angry glances down the line of girls every so often to silence their giggling. Ren doesn’t have to search the minds of the other guests to know that Lady Stadixe plays a much greater role here at the Coruscant Ballet than some kind of handler for the performers. If the general needs to speak to her then she must know about the dealings that take place between her patrons—probably arranges them herself: a choreographer in more ways than one.

General Hux cuts through the crowd, around the edge of the dance floor and through the rest of the guests. Ren can feel his heartbeat build in his chest, the pulses becoming more rapid and more violent as he nears you. The crowd thins, and there’s an eruption of giggles from some of the younger dancers when they see him before Lady Stadixe quiets them with a sharp bark. A strange feeling arrives and he allows himself to sit with it only for a moment—he wishes he weren't such a spectacle, wishes he could approach you like any other man, wishes to be without the reputation, the title. It's only for a moment, but Ren thinks he would kill to be someone else right now if it meant he could take you by the hand.

“Lady Stadixe, allow me to introduce myself,” General Hux begins, greeting the lady with a slight bow, “I am General Hux of the First Order, and this is Commander Ren.” Ren nods in response, out of habit, but his eyes stay on you and he’s terrified to find that you’re returning his gaze through the mask, even if you may not know it. You're prettier up close, he thinks, and your eyes are alight with good humor, but he can't pay attention to any of that because—when you look at him—he's sure that no mask could stop you from seeing everything.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Lady Stadixe responds, her tone curt even if her words are polite, “allow me to introduce you to my dancers.” She gestures down the line and you all curtsy in unison, bowing deep and low to the ground, but you keep your eyes on him, a trace of a smile on your lips. Ren has no idea what you’re thinking, his own nerves interrupting each time he tries to reach out to you through the force, but he continues his attempts anyways, desperate and desperately curious. Your smile is maddening, a secret in its own right, and he finds himself unable to decipher it. A first.

“This is our principal dancer, and the lead for tonight’s production,” Stadixe says as you rise, and you offer your hand to the general first before extending it to Ren. He wants to take it, he wants it very badly, but he’s found that his limbs aren’t obeying his commands, not when you’re looking at him like that.

“It’s a pleasure,” you say, before dropping your hand with a little stutter at his refusal, smoothing it over your skirt to make the movement more natural. You smirk, just slightly, before glancing at the other dancers, looking back at him when you say, “ I’ve never met a force user before.” Giggling breaks out again, and Ren isn’t sure if it’s at his expense or not, but it doesn’t matter, not really. Not if you’re going to keep talking about him.

He should respond, say something, but he can’t think, and he’s petrified at the idea that he might say something stupid. Ren can’t risk it, not in a moment like this, not when he so desperately wants for you to like him. Unfortunately, that gives General Hux a chance to fill the silence.

“I’ve found that they aren’t terribly impressive,” Hux replies, and the bitterness is unmistakable, but it only serves to amuse you more, your smile growing wider, and you trap your tongue between your teeth in an attempt to curb any errant laughter. Ren finds it very difficult to resist the urge to throw the general into a wall. He finds it more difficult to resist the urge to run his thumb over your bottom lip.

“I heard they can read minds,” you fix your eyes onto the general with a steady look, leaning in a little closer as you challenge his words, and the girls behind you mumble to each other more seriously. Even Lady Stadixe seems intrigued now, tuned in to the conversation enough that she doesn’t bother to quiet the others. He feels like a creature in a zoo, some grotesque thing for the others to ogle at, but not to you. He may be mistaken, but he thinks you might actually be defending him.

“Yes, he can,” Hux admits with some reluctance, and the space fills with bright, flaring anxiety as those closest search their most recent thoughts, terrified of what Ren might have learned during this short conversation. None of them need to worry—not that he can explain that right now—the only thoughts he’s interested in are yours.

“Sounds impressive to me.” Some of the other girls nod in agreement, and you sear the general with another challenging stare. Hux shrinks slightly, unable to completely control the sneer that threatens to take over his face, and turns to address Lady Stadixe again, a silent acceptance of his defeat.

“Is he always this quiet?” One of the younger girls interrupts before the general can speak, unwilling to let the novelty of Ren’s presence die, and he fills with dread.

“No,” Hux responds, and he actually sounds surprised as he turns his gaze to Ren, his eyes cold and calculating. He knows, Ren can feel it, and he’s eager for revenge for the snide comment Ren made earlier, as well as a million other things Ren had not come to regret until this moment. Hux turns back deliberately, leaning in a little ways before he speaks, but he makes sure to be loud enough for every one of the dancers to hear, “normally he never shuts up. I can’t imagine what’s changed.”

The general’s stare is pointed as he appraises you with his eyes, his gaze roaming from your head to your feet and back, and he quirks one brow to emphasize his point. Everyone takes notice, some of the girls squealing with laughter when they realize what he means, and you look at him wide eyed before you turn your gaze to the ground, a blush spreading across your cheeks. Ren wishes he had thrown the general into a wall when he had the chance. He still thinks he might, but there’s nothing he can do to salvage this moment now.

Hux seems satisfied with the chaos he’s caused, and he stands up straighter, adjusting his gloves before turning back to address Lady Stadixe, “If I may, there’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you in private,” and Stadixe nods, gesturing for Hux to follow her into a far corner away from listening ears. Ren turns to go as well, glad for a chance to escape this living hell in the form of  giggling girls, but Hux pauses, turning to face him again.

“Why don’t you stay here with the dancers, Ren, while I speak to Lady Stadixe,” he says, his eyes alight with a vicious delight, “I’m sure you’ll find some way to entertain yourself.”

Ren stops, hoping to quash any embarrassment he might feel with pure rage. He’s already planning which parts of the Finalizer he would tear into first when he returned, thinking about what would anger the general the most. By the time he’s done, Hux would regret everything about tonight.

“Did you enjoy the show, Commander Ren?” He hears you speak behind him, and it pulls him away from his thoughts, back to the embarrassment he felt so strongly earlier. He turns, and manages a nod, keenly aware of the delight in the eyes of every single dancer down the line, all listening avidly to your conversation . . . if you could call it that.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to speak,” you say quietly, stepping a little closer in an attempt to make your chat a private one, and you lower your voice so that only he can hear, “I don’t mind filling the silence. Besides, Lady Stadixe gets very cross if she feels that we’re not keeping our guests entertained; I’m sure you understand?” He nods again, relaxing into your presence, and the other girls slowly lose interest, choosing instead to search the ballroom for other sources of entertainment. Without the watching eyes of the other girls, and the damn general around—Ren feels like he might actually be able to say something to you, might be able to tell you exactly how much he enjoyed your performance, how talented he thinks you are. How beautiful he thinks you are.

"I hate to interrupt-" The voice comes from Ren's right, and he looks to its source, finding a snide-looking man beside him, who reaches for your hand, pressing a soft kiss to your fingers, "I was hoping that you might favor me with a dance."

"Of course." It only takes you a moment before you agree graciously, and Ren is crushed, foolishly hoping that you would refuse in favor of staying with him even though he’s given you no reason to do that. You flash him an apologetic smile as you're whisked away to the dance floor, and the disappointment is prolonged. There was so much he wanted to say to you, and now he'll never get the chance.

The man leads you to the dance floor at the center of the room, a possessive hand placed at your waist. There's jealousy spreading through the room—not only his, but others as well—permeating the space like an oil slick, other young men who had not been brave enough to interrupt your moment with Ren redirecting their anger to your new companion.

"His name is Erichar Kempmont." Ren had not noticed the return of Lady Stadixe, but she stands at his side now, without the general, speaking with the quiet nature of someone used to dealing in secrets, "he is the wealthiest of the girl's suitors."

Ren doesn't respond, his mouth growing dry. Suitors. Multiple. Of course. He should have known. Should have expected it from the beginning, but his vision had been clouded by his desire, by your smile.

"She is very talented, of course," Lady Stadixe continues, her eyes trained on you with impenetrable focus, "but talent alone will not sustain her forever. She'll need security, someone to take care of her when her career has finished. That is something I have promised to provide for her, and I do not break those promises." She glares at Ren, staring him down despite her small stature, waiting for him to issue some kind of challenge. He doesn't.

"Stay away from her," she finishes with some uncertainty; he's unnerved her with his lack of a response. Ren should leave her like this, let her believe what she wants, but the order she's given him leaves him simmering with anger.

"Are you threatening me?" he asks quietly, and the words growl out through his vocoder, leaving her shaking.

"So you do speak," she replies, trying to hide her fear with feigned indifference, "it would be foolish of me to threaten someone like you, of course. But you could consider it a warning."

Lady Stadixe departs just in time for Ren to watch another man ask you for a dance, and his jaw tightens. What business did that woman have telling you what to do? In trying to control him? The anger refuses to dissipate, forming tight and firm deep in his chest.  

"There you are," it's the general who interrupts him this time, looking rather flustered, his eyes searching the room skittishly, "There's one more person I need to speak to, and then we can leave this awful place."

"Why are you telling me this?" Ren asks, his leftover irritation from his conversation with Lady Stadixe mingling with brand new irritation at the general. "I thought I was meant to entertain myself?"

Hux flushes with annoyance at Ren's stubbornness, his pale skin becoming marred by red splotches. He feels no remorse for it; the general has earned much more of Ren's difficult behavior after tonight—he'll have to get used to it.

"This person I'll be meeting with," Hux explains through gritted teeth, "is notoriously . . .  difficult. I'm concerned that they might try to run. Make yourself useful and guard the exit. I'm sure she won't miss you in your absence." Hux gestures vaguely to the dance floor and scowls before he departs, disappearing into the crowd again.

Ren moves toward the doors with steady-minded determination. There's nothing left for him here anyways; your time for the rest of the night has been claimed, it seems, by the suitors Lady Stadixe had been so kind to point out. He'll wait for the general in the foyer until he's done with his ridiculous meetings and he'll forget about the ballet completely. He won't think about the way the light reflected in your eyes as you danced. Won't picture the way you moved like all music was created for you to give it meaning. Wouldn't imagine what it would be like to hold you in his arms.

Gods, he’s being juvenile. Was a pretty smile and a few kind words all it took for him to lose his mind? He's only known that you existed for a few hours, only held your attention for a few minutes and it has him acting completely deranged.

Moonlight pours through the windows of the foyer, which has been left dark now that the guests have all been moved into the ballroom. The room is larger and colder than he remembers it, and somehow made emptier by his presence. He waits, observing the room without much interest, only vaguely aware of the passage of time, marked by the change in the music as it spills in from the gaps in the ballroom doors, muted by distance. It’s only after three, maybe four songs, that he notices that something else has changed: the faintest hint of light is escaping beneath the theatre doors on the other side of the foyer.

Ren knows that he should stay where he is and watch for the general, but he's overcome with uncharacteristic curiosity when he senses you behind those closed doors. Part of him would like to walk away, to ignore you as the lady had encouraged. Another part of him knows that he might not like what he would see if he chose to enter the theatre; maybe you were not alone, if one of your many suitors had brought you there for a second away from prying eyes. He ignores both of the competing voices, opening the door as quietly as possible, peering into the room beyond.

You are alone, he finds, and on the stage, moving without music, dancing without seeing, your eyes shut tight to the empty seats. Even without the audience, the accompaniment, the costume, or the lights, you perform with the same rigor you had before, and Ren is mesmerized all over again. Somehow, even after your stellar performance earlier in the evening, you seem to push yourself harder: jumping higher, spinning faster, your movements more precise and powerful than Ren can begin to comprehend.

You finish your routine, center stage, your head down and your breathing hard and fast from the exertion. Ren is careful not to make a sound, terrified of interrupting your moment, but when you look up, your eyes find him immediately—as if you knew he was there all along. A few different emotions flash across your face, but embarrassment is the one that sticks, and you drop your eyes to the floor again, folding in on yourself.

"How long have you been here?" You speak quietly, but your voice carries all the way to the back of the theatre. This is it, Ren finally has his chance to speak to you, alone.

"Not long," his words are too stilted, his voice too menacing for his liking, but you aren't disturbed by it, and so he continues, "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"No need to worry about that," you say, hopping lightly from the stage, walking slowly up the aisle towards him, "I should probably return to the party now. I just needed a quick break. Too many watchful eyes in the ballroom; I'm sure you understand." Ren does understand the feeling, although he’s not sure why its one you would share.

"I thought you might be used to watching eyes, as a performer." You're inching ever closer, one row of seats at a time, and each step tightens the vice grip at his heart, restricting his ability to breathe in the most pleasant kind of fashion.

"It's different-" you say with a nod towards the doors and the ballroom beyond, "in there. I always know what's expected of me on stage, what they're looking for, what I can do. It's . . . not the same everywhere else. Sometimes I need an escape."

Stars, it's like you're inside his head, pulling the words out and placing them in your own mouth. He knows exactly how you feel.

"Do you ever get an escape?" You've finally reached him, your lips curving humorously around your whispered words. The small amount of space between your bodies feels solidified, heavy even, the pressure of your presence almost as enticing as the pressure of your touch. He knows he should not feel this way, but his body and mind are on two different planes right now. 

"No, I don't," he says, and you smile sadly, always smiling, as your tongue runs smoothly over your parted lips.

"Can you breathe without it?” Your hands creep up into his line of sight, and you gesture to the mask. All he can manage is a subtle nod of his head, trying to remain composed when every part of him is threatening to combust at the feeling of your fingers searching around the edge of the helmet, flexing slightly when you find the releases. He closes his eyes as you tug the item over his head, unwilling to admit that he’s afraid of what you might feel when you see his face.

“That’s much better,” you say, and he lets his eyes open, allows himself to study you for the first time without the mask. “Would you consider this an escape?” You set the mask down on the seat next to you, and it stares up at him expectant, waiting.

“I would,” he doesn’t like the way his voice sounds now, without the vocoder to mask the lingering emotion behind the two words. It feels like a confession, like a weakness, and he hates that part of himself almost as much as he wants you.

“I know lots of ways to escape,” you say, apparently ignorant to his inner turmoil, “would you like to know my favorite?” You won’t meet his eyes, staring at your fingers instead, which you brush over the material of his sleeve, and the feeling leaves a trail of unraveling nerves in its wake. You can’t be suggesting what he thinks you’re suggesting. This is some kind of fever dream. There’s no way that you would want him the same way that he wants you.

“Yes,” his reply is deep and breathless, but it brings that smile back to your face, and you look up at him again, your other hand curling gently around his neck, your touch feather-light and fragile. The theatre fades away into nothingness—Ren can only think about the space between your mouth and his that shrinks infinitesimally, your movement spanning hours, days, aeons. He doesn’t care. You’re so close.

The blaster shot throws time back to a normal speed and you startle, jumping in his arms before you stagger back away from him, searching for the source of the noise that’s immediately followed by screams. You look at him only for a moment before you both run to the doors, Ren grabbing his helmet first and replacing it over his head, no time to mourn the loss of your touch.

Guests pour out of the ballroom doors, tripping over each other in their finery, ignoring the ripped hems and lost shoes as they force their way to safety. You’re almost swept up by the crowd, but Ren holds you back, one arm wrapped securely around your waist and your fingers push tiny bruises into his skin underneath his uniform as you search desperately through the crowd, trying to spy a hint of your friends, anyone you might recognize who could explain what you had missed.

“Ren!” The general calls out, breaking free of the crowd and forcing his way to the far wall. If he has anything to say about Ren’s absence from the foyer, or your presence here with him, he doesn’t share it, running a gloved hand through his hair, forcing it back after it had been jostled out of place by the stampeding crowd, “we need to leave. Now.”

 “Please, what happened?” you wrestle yourself out of Ren’s grasp, grabbing the general by the arm with desperation, “we heard the shot, is everyone alright?”

“I’m not sure. I didn’t see it.” It’s obvious that Hux is lying, to you and Ren both, but there’s no chance for either of you to confront him, because he’s headed towards the doors again, pulling Ren along with him. Ren turns back—maybe to see if you’re alright, maybe to bring you with him, out of harm's way—he’s not exactly sure, but the press of the crowd is too strong and too fast; he’s hardly able to think before he’s lost sight of you. He didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.

[snipehuntpotatosack]

Unofficial Commentary on the text tagged [Chronic Metaphor] – A Servo-Subsystem Research Program Summary in Four Cantos; with Addendum re site visit

Initial apologetics (if the term is applicable and/or recognized) are due concerning the graphic or “pronunciatory” form in which the material herein discussed was/is presented, even tho the unit(s) generating said material were not at any time under my direct or indirect personal control. Yes, I identify myself as a “person” in the oldest and most trivial sense in addressing you herein, and the form I use will continue to be the prosiest, fussiest and most boringly irritating of proses. As for why precisely a psychoneurotic pseudopoet with a rusty valve stuck open seems to have generated an idiosyncratic 255-line precis of the non-results of an actual very official, time-consuming, and quite expensive archeologic-epistemic study in astrocognitive phenomena in a species of volatile vers libre rather than the usual lethal academic sludge-speak: as part of one of the cyclical waves of good-heartedness affecting managerial disposition toward the treatment of the “semi-sentient,” a random selection of report writers were encouraged to experiment with other linguistic models which might more effectively package complex/banal-seeming information so as to attract more network attention, this being regarded as an a priori goal for some reason…It is not clear whether the composers of the CM text had any particular literary models in mind (and I can assure everyone that no ‘machine’ time has been spent on investigating this uninteresting question); I think it more likely that the inspired creator(s) attempted to place breaks similar to physical speech rhythms – as in the incantations of Druidical sages gone cybermad – into whatever data it occurred to them to convey (partly suggested by the fact that the “speaker-units” under study imitate the rhythms, the rushes and caesuras, of persons talking – while of course making no sense whatsoever).

 Regardless of the semi-bizarre form in which the summary report has been assembled, and even taking into account its various semi-snide sidelights on the assumptions, motivations or delusions of participants in this and other official research ventures, having been called upon unofficially to comment on its usefulness at this stage in our reckoning with what we have encountered, I can only add the following:

I have nothing further to add.

Whatever follows should not be expected to modify our overall evaluation of the project or of any potential for further expenditure or non-expenditure; it represents only my particular, that is personal, inclination to fill in some background details regarding this overall puzzling, unsatisfyingly incomplete area of inquiry. (As intimated in a particular line of Canto C, “breadth” without “depth” of information can be particularly irksome to the curious mind, though whether my extra depths may lead anywhere is doubtful.)

Standard trans-galactic probe techniques did in fact encounter (and retrieve detailed information in a wide range of sensory and mathematical categories), at a date not too far from the beginning of our current technocratic era, with a nearly perfectly planar solid object consisting entirely as far as we know of the element Carbon, in the form graphite, at a location which remains constant though classified. Its planar quality is “nearly” perfect, of course, since the sheet does possess some top-to-bottom thickness – exactly 256 molecules. Otherwise, no limit to its extent has yet been found, by any sensing or calculational means possible, in any direction. (We can, of course, access its “other side”, by approaching from the other direction). The object is thus referred as “finite but boundless,” in the sense that before contact is made with the planar surface, there is no graphite; once contact is made, there is.

 This description would seem to imply that the plane slices the megaverse in half; and so it would, except for its orientation in Riemann space. You will appreciate that this point cannot be expanded on using semantic language.

 The entire “population” of the plane is a transfinite (that is the word, as per Canto A , – and there’s no other; we simply cannot know how many) set of black carbon nano-fiber cubical audio speakers, of an extremely basic design, with one smallish vibrating sound-producing diaphragm each. Forgive me if I slip into homey jargon – each one is about knee high, and they sit there about one-and-a-half arm’s length from each other in a very exact pointillist array, all facing in the exact same direction, if there was a way to define that direction, which there isn’t. Tomography indicates a small disk at the interior base may be their power source, though what activates and deactivates (or uses up) this power source is beyond our ken. In addition, a small white light of the simplest construction on top of the cube lights up with modest wattage when the speaker-unit operates, and goes out afterward.

 Yes, of course we’ve tried to sample the graphite. Of course we’ve tried to disassemble a speaker and microanalyze its parts, in situ or, if it could be arranged, at another location. They cannot be picked up, moved, pierced, bent, melted, dinged, crushed, drilled, lasered, or physically affected in any way. This although they are quite physically real; you can trace its contour through your glove, and if you bang your knee against one of the corners (through the leg of your e-suit) it will raise a lump. It cannot be detached from the surface of the plane by the application through torsion of a force sufficient to propel an object free of the gravity of galactic center. No, we have not attempted to destroy any smaller or larger part of the plane and its population using the most fearsome destructive tools known; logical analysis could not project any conceivable gain in information through this procedure.

 And yes, as the lumpiness of my description indicates, I have been personally to Site F, as the wags call it (short for many possible terms). Only once. Continued data collection of any sort of data anyone or anything could ever dream up obviously continues via automatic installations on site; budgetary questions only arise  concerning whether to continue analyzing this Leviathan of unappealing input as it grows dusty in our virtual ledgers. As for the considerable resources entailed in dispatching any more eyewitnesses to F, in corpore, I suspect the only reason this is not now completely ruled out is a kind of inchoate, cosmic superstition – having never successfully peered into the mind of function f, if any such thing exists, we can’t stop peeking sideways to see what it might do next; and we certainly wouldn’t want it to feel slighted in the meantime.

  Approaching F from a series of eccentric hyperbolics, one’s first impression is of a dimly pearlescent Cupid’s bow, of the radius of a gnat, then an inchworm, then perhaps a comb jelly, performing rather silly flips and inverted rotations in the blackness as your perspective gyrates round that of the approach trajectory. When very close indeed, the sense of a gargantuan flat dance floor – picked out in midnight streaks not by F itself but by our own, stationary illuminators – grows alarmingly, and then vanishes completely as one comes to rest – on an array of cubes, rather than the actual floor, which makes no difference. (An odd sensation, being deposited on a perfectly flat plane – it immediately popped into my head that our own technology approaches nothing similar.)

It is simple to make shoe-soles that love graphite. The environment of F is pure, dead-vacuum, intergalactic space, with a floor to walk on. Unfortunately, the floor is studded with solid shin-busters whose regular spacing will not spare one without considerable practice, so travel groups are collectively lighted from above. There is not much of a walk to reach the Activated Area, no matter when you go, since one can land anywhere; but tourists are given about fifteen minutes approach time to allow the pupils to adjust.

 You are advancing on foot into the maw of trillion-diamond Tiara City, the scintillating illusion building intricately to past fifty, sixty degrees above the horizon even tho every individual photon originates mere centimeters from the surface. The walls and webs of light are thickly constructed to the sides of you and behind you, and seem to be narrowing and crowning upward ahead – the parabolic arch now spanning well more than a billion active electrified entities of unknown origin and purpose. Two hours walk, three, and the illusory multidimensional effect has worn thin as you near the focus; adjusted retina now perceive a flat broad white light everywhere, neither intense nor interrupted, utterly transparent, and yielding a perspective at once completely repetitive and monstrously surreal, as the twinkling cubes march in serried ranks to the horizon.

 Then, your automated guide introduces the next phase of your learning experience. Your earphones, which have been shut completely till now, are slowly – over a period of many minutes – exposed to what is really filling the air around you, reaching and remaining at a level approximating eight percent of the true volume level –

 Did I say the AIR?

 Indeed Madam or Sir, without which there would be no way to hear, record, analyze the Speech of the speaker cubes. In fact, when Site F was first discovered, millions upon millions of active speaker-units were gabbling away freely – as evidenced clearly by the tremblings and agitations of their sound-producing diaphragms - and producing no sound at all in the vacuum of space.

Nor did they, until our researchers filled the surrounding space with ambient gases appropriate to the operation of the speaker units in producing phonemic sound. Verbal sound. Innumerable combinations of gases with and without particulate additives have been tried for this purpose, but only one maximizes F-Site speaker performance: the exact proportions of nitrogen and oxygen found on what our dear dead ancestors were pleased to call home.

Our poetic prologue omitted this as a mere technical detail; the notion that indestructible space-born units would be sent on an eternal mission, i.e. to talk – and not only not given anyone to talk to, but no way to be heard if there was –

did not interest our core analytic cadres compared to the potential or hypothetical mathematics of the mother-ship f function.

.

So now, fellow voyager, we have reached the final revelation, laid bare to our senses. As hovering tanks emit invisible atmospheres toward all and sundry, we finally hear the Star Speech of the mysterious Speakers. They talk, and talk, and talk, in every direction.

As far as anyone can understand, it means nothing at all….

except for one small detail.

There is one other thing about their conversation, which the Poem did not mention.

 They don’t just talk. They whisper, they moan. They bellow, they proclaim in profound orotund baritones. They shriek like the demons of Macbeth’s blasted heath. They burble, grovel, compliment, snarl, sob, ululate, snicker, mimic, plead, project, perorate, bloviate, gargle, snivel, boast, wheedle, insinuate, denounce, exaggerate, hype, summon, denounce, deceive, chatter, natter, blather, yammer, wail, mourn, elegize, mesmerize, scandalize, ingratiate, stutter, sputter, mew, whinge, neigh, hector, harp, emote, ejaculate, envision, exclaim, erupt, elucidate, yowl, yak, jape, jest, jabber, greet, grandiloquize, chisel, charm, chuckle, chitter, crow, brag, argue, segue, toast, threaten, ameliorate, pray, parry, aver, avow, acclaim, attest, affirm, achoo, agree, account, accept, accredit, auction, authorize, augur, theorize, temporize, tantalize, tongue, tang, teeng, tong, and tan two tonsils for every top ticket in town

And there’s one other thing we know. Not from ourselves, because we’d have to die first. But from the machines, who can stay there long, long after we’d wink out.

 If you just stand there, and wait until all the quintillions around you have had their say, they all wink out, night falls; and The Perfectly Clear Light, and then The Trillion Diamond Tiara City, and then The Pearly Cupid’s Bow, move on, on, on into the Inky Way, talking, talking forever

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael in the Mainstream: The Last Jedi review

It has been a year since I first saw this, and it has given me plenty of time to sort out my thoughts on it. This film was very divisive in my mind, as it has been to filmgoers at large; no two people seem to have the same take on it. Alex of IHE liked it and thought it got better with each viewing; Schaffrillas Productions thinks the movie is really stupid and fails at what it set out to do; and Doug Walker, AKA the Nostalgia Critic, is somewhere in the middle, saying it has some of the best Star Wars has to offer as well as some of the worst. And that isn’t even getting into fan response, with the ever-hyperbolic Star Wars fandom screaming for ages about how this is an utter travesty of filmmaking, and how the whole movie should be retconned, and so on.

Frankly, such hyperbole should just be dismissed entirely out of hand. If you honestly think this film is the worst Star Wars film, or even an objectively bad film in general, you either have lived a very sheltered life or do not know a thing about films or filmmaking. Now, does that mean I think this is a GOOD film? Well… no. I think I most agree with Doug Walker on this; the film has a lot of great stuff, a lot of stuff done better than every other Star Wars movie; but for every great thing, there is an unbelievably awful thing too, balancing out the movie into being a literal divisive work, with half the film being a great Star Wars entry and the other half being a stream of idiocy, fluff, and filler. And the most baffling part is it isn’t even hard to tell which parts are good and which aren’t the awful parts stick out uncomfortably. Say what you will about something like Jar Jar, he at least seemed somewhat plausible within the universe of Star Wars. But the casino on Canto Bright, and the weird space horses? It just feels too weird, too whimsical, too Harry Potter-esque for Star Wars.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. As far as story goes, we have this: Rey is off trying to convince the cranky hermit Luke Skywalker to train her, though this is easier said than done, as Luke seems rather content with milking alien walruses and just in general being a hermit to want to help her out. Meanwhile, the rebels are being chased down by the First Order, with Poe desperately trying to take command of the situation and his commanding officer not having any of it, which leads Poe to send Finn on a mission to find a way to sabotage the ships. This leads to Canto Bright as they search for a skilled hacker. Meanwhile, Rey is finding out she has a very interesting connection to Kylo Ren. There’s a lot going on this time in the galaxy far, far away, and it becomes unclear if things will come out on top for the rebels this time around.

So, let’s talk about what works first. The movie’s greatest strength is certainly the cinematography; this is hands down, indisputably, the best-looking Star Wars film to day. There are so many gorgeous, beautiful shots, so many scenes made better by the fantastic camera work. The presentation in this film is just top notch, and so much in this film is just a treat for the eyes. And the beauty isn’t just the shots, the actual lightsaber duels we get are easily some of the finest in the history of the franchise, with Rey and Kylo’s fight against the Praetorian Guards, as well as the final duel between Kylo and Luke on the salt field, moments like this deserve to be held up among the best in all of Star Wars history.

Then we have basically everything involving Luke, Rey, and Kylo Ren in this movie. The scenes revolving around these characters are the most engaging and interesting in the entire film. Luke especially is a fascinating character, Mark Hamill giving his all to the performance and showcasing the natural progression from a well-meaning but hotheaded young hero to a jaded, cynical hermit who has, like his master before him, put himself into self-imposed exile due to his failures. Rey and Kylo have an intriguing dynamic, and they get so much focus and development. A lot of the film focuses on Kylo, giving much-needed development, though unfortunately it does jettison a lot of what made him interesting in the precious film. Gone are his tantrums, struggle with the light side of the Force, and emulation of his grandfather… but in comes a performance from Adam Driver that I felt at some points emulated Javier Bardem’s from No Country for Old Men. Yes, Kylo Ren managed to be as terrifying and ruthless as Anton Chigurh.

But of course, there are a great deal of problems, namely anything in he film that doesn’t focus around the three aforementioned characters. Outside of the opening space battle, just about everything with the rebels is a tedious slog of a chase scene, with the First Order apparently never once considering speeding up a little bit to catch up with the rebel ships slowly running out of gas. Despite what some very sad, strange people on the internet might convince you, there’s no overtly political messaging in the dynamic between Poe and Holdo; the only thing there is just really poor writing, where two characters who should be smarter act ridiculously stupid for poorly defined reasons. It’s pretty telling when Leia, probably the only person in the rebellion with a cool head on her shoulders, gets taken out of commission for a large chunk of the film early on.

The film also wastes a lot of characters that were built up to be more important than they ended up being. Phasma is unceremoniously killed (or maybe not) after an extremely brief battle, to the point where reading this sentence will probably take more time than her appearance onscreen in this film. The hacker that Finn and his new partner rose find on Canto Bright, portrayed by Benicio Del Toro, seems like he might end up an interesting morally ambiguous figure, and up until his final appearance he offers some interesting characterization, but then he stabs Finn and Rose in the back and vanishes from the film. Still, neither of the previous examples are anything compared to what happened to Snoke, the mysterious evil emperor figure who corrupted Ben Solo into becoming Kylo Ren. Some have said they didn’t find Snoke interesting to begin with, and that his death wasn’t too bad of a move, but on the same token there is so little revealed about him despite the fact that he is integral to a major character’s backstory that he ends up feeling like a missed opportunity. The fact that he is played by Andy Serkis only compounds my irritation; why get such a fantastic actor to play a wasted character like this? I have much the same feeling towards the disrespectful usage of Max Von Sydow in The Force Awakens; pointlessly tossing great actors into minor, throwaway roles is utterly depressing when you think of what their talents could have added to the story.

But of course, I have saved the worst for last: Rose Tico and Canto Bright. He two go hand in hand, as Canto Bright is where Rose gets much of her screentime and development with Finn. Canto Bright is a very odd locale, featuring a shiny casino and weird alien horses. The whole tone of the place is far too whimsical and jarring for the film it’s in, and it ends up badly clashing with the other scenes. It also ends up hogging a lot of screentime from the far more interesting and intriguing plot with Rey and Luke. The biggest issue, though, is how pointless the entire venture ends up being, as after all they go through, they end up failing miserably, which leads to a lot of the issues in the film’s final third. The whole thing ends up just being a pointless diversion from the more interesting plot and comes off as a way to pad out the runtime with hamfisted morals and glurge.

And then we have Rose, who, in this film anyway, is probably the least likable character in any Star Wars film. She is utterly bland and uninteresting as a character, which is a shame as her sister, a character with limited screentime who only appears in the opening before dying, was far more interesting in the few minutes she was onscreen than Rose is in her entirety. The biggest problem with Rose is that she almost feels like a fan insert character, with how she gushes over Finn at first and gets to kiss him at the end despite the two having rather mediocre chemistry. Said kiss also comes after a moment where she ruins a moment that could have been an excellent culmination of Finn’s character arc and been a hugely subversive and expectation-defying moment, and then utters the most vomit-inducingly bad line in Star Wars history: "That's how we're gonna win. Not fighting what we hate, but saving what we love." Nothing about this line works, makes sense, or does anything but make the viewer cringe hard. This is worse than Anakin’s comments about sand, worse than anything in the prequels really, and I don’t think this is hyperbolic in the slightest, since we have had over a decade and a lack of George Lucas involvement to fine-tune scripts and not deliver lines that sound like they belong in a Hallmark special.

Overall, the film absolutely fails to do what it sets out to do: deliver a subversive film that defies audience expectations. Nothing in the film really subverts or plays with audience expectations in a positive way; all of the big subversions come from characters acting as insanely stupid as possible, and they all come from a dull plotline that hogs the screentime from the far more intriguing plotline. The Rey/Luke/Kylo stuff in this movie is easily some of the best and most engaging Star Wars content to date, but it gets shoved aside far too often, and a lot of elements of it seem to be left hanging. Built up elements like Rey’s parents, Snoke, and Phasma are unceremoniously dropped in frankly insulting ways, and at the end of the movie everyone is basically at the spot they were at at the end of the first one.

And that, right there, is my true issue with the film: it all feels very pointless. The heroes accomplish next to nothing, and the overall effects on the franchise are utterly minor. This is a Star Wars film I could almost say you could skip when viewing them for how little it adds… but what little it does add is really good and essential. This is definitely a movie that home viewing will make better, since at home you can skip through the awful Canto Bright and rebel chase sequences to get to the good stuff. The lightspeed ram, the Praetorian duel, Luke and Kylo’s confrontation… all of that stuff is worth seeing.

Ultimately, the film is neither really good nor bad. It’s just a mixed bag that is not nearly as subversive or expectation-defying as a contemporary blockbuster film like Infinity War or even an older film like The Empire Strikes Back. What it does succeed at is delivering a visually stunning film with excellent character dynamics between the three big players. So, it is easy to see why the film is divisive, but it is impossible to see why people could possibly write the film off as the “Worst ever” or “a film so bad it should be retconned.” If you honestly believe this film is so utterly, irredeemably awful, I frankly don’t think your opinions on film are worth much. If you think the film isn’t so good but at least can find a few things to respect in it, well, I find that a far more respectable position than the blind, frothing-at-the-mouth hatred the film has gotten. It really doesn’t deserve it, though it also doesn’t deserve to be held up as the gold standard of Star Wars films either. It does contain some of the worst moments, if not exactly the absolute worst, in the history of the franchise, after all. But on the same token, it contains some of the absolute best, top ten or twenty best moments of the franchise as well. To write the film off or to praise it blindly as a masterpiece are equally foolhardy decisions.

The way this film wraps up leaves me wondering what could possibly be done for the next film; I have no idea where the series could possibly go, and it fills me with a sense of worry and of suspense. The future of Star Wars is uncertain, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned after being a lifelong fan of the franchise, it’s that Star Wars always finds a way to come out on top eventually.

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Leverage Models

Leverage Models started as the latest project from Shannon Fields (late of the much-missed New York collective Stars Like Fleas, and who’s also worked with everyone from Helado Negro to Rhys Chatham, JOBS to The Silent League). After 2013’s highly-praised self-titled debut on Hometapes, Fields wound up assembling a touring band that would wind up making Leverage Models’ newly-released sophomore record Whites(which, for reasons both personal and political, was made in 2015 but is being released now, partly as a fundraiser for the Southern Poverty Law Center). Joined by singer Alena Spanger (of Tiny Hazard) and all three members of the very powerful trio JOBS, among others, in their own words "Leverage Models makes pop songs about transubstantiation, ritual abuse, political apathy, divorce, white collar criminals, poverty, white liberal guilt, anxiety, & self-harm. With roto-toms." In his review, Dusted’s Ian Mathers says about Whites, "Musically, this album would be just as impressive if it had come out in early 2016, but back then maybe more people would assume the high-stakes intensity of the songs here were worrying too much. Sadly, the subsequent time has only shown again and again how appropriate that aspect of Leverage Models’ work really is." For Listed, Fields and Spanger provided a list of current inspirations and overlooked art pop.

Alena’s Current Inspirations

Life Without Buildings—"The Leanover"

The way that this singer, Sue Tompkins, approaches melody and lyric is hypnotizing to me. I love how she continues to repeat words—almost slogans—and alter their pronunciation until they seem to lose their original meanings and become more about the sound of the words. I typically wouldn't love the 90's alt rock aesthetic, but the steady, unobtrusive accompaniment provides the space needed for her vocals to live in.

Francis Bebey—"Pygmy Love Song"

I've been incessantly listening to Francis Bebey for months now. He seems to lean into the rawness and outer edges of what the voice can do. I love the way he mimics the bamboo flute with his voice on this song.

Lizzy Mercier Decloux—"No Golden Throat"

I sometimes feel like I need to shake off everything I learned from years of studying music and get to back to a more fundamental, raw approach. Lizzy is one of those untrained inspirations for me. She barely knew how to play the guitar and started singing not long before this album came out. This resulted in such adventurous, unselfconscious music. She is at once playful, unbridled, and searingly direct. She wasn't really respected in the NY scene when this record came out, and was by some seen as an imposter, reliant on her male collaborators to hoist her up. After digging deeper into her music, it's obvious that she possessed great artistic autonomy and vision and her lack of recognition was a result of unfortunate industry circumstances and sexism. The lyrics in this song are her response to the pressures that's she experienced to sing more conventionally.

Lonnie Holley—"Here I Stand Knocking at Your Door"

I saw Lonnie Holley play in NY recently and was so moved by the freedom with which he sings and the purity and untouched quality of his music. Every aspect of his performance- down to the smallest movements of his body were connected to the sound and channeling into one cohesive and beautiful statement. He is one of those rare, singular artists, who seems to make art out of everything he touches.

Brigitte Fontaine—"Moi Aussi"

She is such a badass. I love the simplicity of using just a drum as accompaniment. In this song, she's singing with her partner at the time, a French/Algerian musician, Areski Belkacem who brought some traditional folkloric sensibilities to their music. The effortless blending of theater and music is something I really strive for in my own work.

Shannon

I needed to give myself a theme so I decided to select some of what I think are overlooked vintage art-pop coming out of the post-punk 80s into the and slick new-agey, ‘world music’ appropriating 90s. I’m completely taken in by that era of experimentation and production right now, though I can’t say why. I find myself drawn most to the songs that effortlessly stumble into choices I don’t always understand. They don’t seem like they’re out to destroy any genre conventions so much as they seem blissfully ignorant of them. Certain moments shock me as to how much more relevant and contemporary the MIDI/electronic, experimental and arty music is as compared to the 60s & 70s guitar-based music that’s ruled for so long (and which has nothing at all to offer a lot of younger musicians I talk to these days). I could have easily made this list 20. This was hard.

Che—I ‎(Narcotic, 1987)

What a confusing record. Half of it is very eccentric, slightly woozy funk. With the subtlety-obliterating rhythm section of Art of Noise or later New Jack rhythms, cock-rock guitars, and these drunken almost a-melodic passages. The ending of Scream Like A Swiftcould be a codeine-fuelled pass at Jensen Sportag’s contemporary hyper-MIDI, vapor-wave smooth-jazz. Moving The Silencesounds like The Blue Nile but with the kind of ironic detachment (think Arto Lindsay & Ambitious Lovers) that leaves you creeped out and confused rather than crying in your drink. And while I’m a bit black-hearted and prefercrying in my drink, I’m also completely transfixed by this. This song, Jerusalem,just kind of takes my breath away with something entirely unfamiliar: built from slabs of goth and pure Peter-Gabriel world-cheese, it somehow alchemizes into something I have never heard. A whole album of this and I’d have it on repeat with Scott Walker’s Climate of Hunter(which also belongs on this list and is one of the best ‘confuse-core’ records ever made).

Akira Inoue—サファリ・オスティナート (Splash, 1983)

I’ve seen this song title translated as "Safari Ostinato". I know very little about this person or this album. Somebody help me. It’s the kind of album that repels and compels alternately. It gives you whiplash in the gentlest, most covert way. It’s a sort of adult contemporary, New Wave, jazz fusion MIDI album and this song is both beautiful and bonkers. The whole album is. I wonder if Dutch Uncles have heard this album. I could draw a line from here to there.

Andréa Daltro—Kiuá (Kiuá, 1988)

Released by the amazing Dutch reissue label Music From Memory. Originally released on Estudio De Invencoes in 1988. Andre Daltro was a singer and the song was, I believe, originally recorded with the band Brazilian "spiritual jazz band" Sexteto do Beco in 1980. But this version trades organicism and chops for drum machine, keys, MIDI sounds, and rattling ambient chatter, both acoustic and synthetic, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever heard…it rivals Arca’s new s/t album for this kind of strange, winsome cyber bel canto transmission from an alien jungle, though far less brooding, no less arresting.

Jane Siberry—Lena is a White Table (The Walking, 1987)

I knew Jane Siberry later hits and didn’t much care for them. I knew she worked with both Hector Zazou and Barney the Purple Dinosaur. I was not prepared when I first heard this album, The Walking. I believe when she was first signed the industry thought of her as the "new Kate Bush" and wanted to cash in on the mass tolerance for ‘art-rock’ a-la Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush. But The Walkingis to Hounds of Loveas The Blue Nile’s Walk Across The Rooftops is to Laughing Stock’s Spirit of Eden. I love all of the above, but what Siberry and The Blue Nile share in this example is the same kind of epic freedom and reach but a sort of fragility and limitation and ramshackle, almost amateurish quality that make them really humane and relatable to me. The first time I heard this song I confess that my first thought was how much it reminded me of Alena’s old band, Tiny Hazard, who were one of my favorite bands in Brooklyn. I know it seems silly to say it, but somehow this track feels so much less ‘theatrical’ then the same era of Kate Bush…more interior. It feels like a very intimate experience to listen, to the point that I find myself feeling embarrassed for listening in.

Gary Numan—Cry, The Clock Said (Dance, 1981)

I hesitated to use one of my choices on an artist I feel like everybody knows. But I almost never meet anyone who really knows THIS album (and I know because I push it on everyone). If you only know the playful, cold cyber-punk of the first couple of Gary Numan/Tubeway Army records (which are, to be clear, brilliant, and a big influence on me) you really need to hear this album. At its most extreme corners (of which this song is one) I don’t know anything like it. Gary Numan’s great magic trick, the one I endlessly faun over, is how his disaffected, conventionally ugly, robot voice transforms into something heartbreaking and relatable by the time it reaches my heart (especially on Telekon’s piano-based tracks). I know that’s a cheesy thing to say but fuck you, I need sentiment these days. Anyway, nowhere is it more the case than in this songs arrangement. Musically, it feels entirely alien and also entirely familiar, with Japan’s Mick Karn barely there alongside what sound like Casiotone boss nova beats and the most heartbreaking little chiming synth arpeggio that come and go like a kitten that wakes up momentarily from its drug-induced nap. It’s 10 minutes long. I’ve had it on loop for hours without getting tired of it. I’ve wanted to make something like this for a long time now. Some day I’ll have this kind of restraint.

#11 Bonus Track!

Né Ladeiras—Cruz (Corsária, 1988)

I also know next to nothing about this Brazilian album, dedicated to Greta Garbo. I read that it was produced and arranged by Luís Cília ,who wrote a song that became a sort of second anthem for the Portuguese Communist Party. The MIDI harps sitting matter-of-factly on top of those plate-reverbed guiro, clave, bells…I want to live inside the room they build. And it’s a lovely, airy progression that never grows tiresome as it modulates in a drifting-down-the-stream sort of way. The ending lifts so high with barely a shrug’s worth of effort. Gorgeous.

[getoffthesoapbox]

[SW:TLJ] First Impressions - A Flawed Triumph

After a few days of careful consideration, I’ve decided to divide my initial review of The Last Jedi into multiple parts for clarity and ease of reading. I have only seen the film once at this time, and these are my initial impressions. Once I see it again, any future impressions or predictions will be covered at that time separately. This series of posts is solely to cover my initial thoughts about the movie.

To keep from overwhelming anyone’s dash, I’ll be posting one impression a day until they’re finished. A list of upcoming titles and where we are in the series can be found below:

[SW:TLJ] First Impressions - A Flawed Triumph ← we are here

[SW:TLJ] First Impressions - The Thematic Heart

[SW:TLJ] First Impressions - Finn & Rose

[SW:TLJ] First Impressions - Luke & Rey

[SW:TLJ] First Impressions - Luke & Kylo

[SW:TLJ] First Impressions - Luke & Leia

[SW:TLJ] First Impressions - Rey’s Trajectory

[SW:TLJ] First Impressions - Kylo’s Trajectory

[SW:TLJ] First Impressions - Rey & Kylo

[SW:TLJ] First Impressions - The Romantic Heart

[SW:TLJ] First Impressions - Misleading Love Polygons

[SW:TLJ] First Impressions - Schrödinger's Futures

The remainder of this first behemoth can be found under the cut. We’ll slay the rest in due course =)

Before I get into the narrative and the themes and the character development, I’d like to cover the more technical aspects of the film, the way it was constructed, and my general impressions from the initial viewing. Be warned, this is my significant complaints post; the remainder of this series will have some nitpicks, but on the whole my impression of the film was quite good, despite how bleak it is. ;)

The Last Jedi is on an objective level a mixed bag filmmaking-wise. There are some aspects that are positively stunning and some aspects that are disappointingly amateur for a director with such a fine reputation.

Prior to TLJ I’d never seen any of Rian Johnson’s work, but he appears to be well-respected in many corners of the internet, and I was hopeful that he could not only make up for the concerns I had about JJ Abrams as a director for The Force Awakens but also bring something new and original to the franchise. This I believe he did do, but in a haphazard fashion that isn’t entirely a credit to his talent.

Let’s start with cinematography. Many shots in the film are absolutely stunning and will probably be remembered by Star Wars fans long after the flaws are forgiven. The sweeping, epic location sequences are particularly notable--especially the Crait scenes. The Red Room sequence is Oscar-worthy in my opinion, despite some questionable editing choices in certain parts. The final sequence with Luke facing the sunset is unbelievably poignant and heart wrenching. The shot of Luke walking in on Rey and Kylo burned itself into my eyes like some of the best scenes of classic movies. The shot of Kylo and Luke facing each other down would go straight to the heart of anyone who loves westerns or samurai films. There is so much to love here in the cinematography. There is a great attention to detail in many scenes--especially on Ach-to--where you get the sense of life being greater than the characters and moving on in spite of their shenanigans, which is in my opinion a wonderful touch.

Unfortunately, there’s quite a bit that fails to meet the mark as well. Having seen only one of Rian’s films, I can’t speak for his general style, but my impression of his focus is that he has a knack for action and long establishing shots, but he has a tough time capturing relationships. Worse, this is a relationship film, not an action film. Relationships are one of JJ’s strengths, and despite TFA’s flaws (which are many), JJ was able to capture the charm of the characters with just the right framing, distance, and shot choices. Rian seems to struggle with this, especially in the pivotal Rey and Kylo scenes that are the heart of the story. Perhaps he hasn’t had much experience with crafting compelling relationships, which is JJ’s forte, or perhaps he merely choked due to the overwhelming responsibility of a film like this, but in a film where these two have to be sold as a compelling, growing relationship, this is a significant and unfortunate flaw that I find hard to overlook.

In general with romantic scenes, you want very little confusion, very little cutting, and room for the viewer to absorb what’s going on before you start moving in to close ups and building intimacy. With Rian’s Kylo and Rey scenes, we get the opposite, which works fine for the first force bond moment (meant to be disorienting for both the characters and the viewer), but not necessarily for the later ones. I found the scenes slightly disorienting, which made it hard to follow pivotal dialogue and fully comprehend the wonderful emotional nuance the two actors’ were clearly displaying in their performances. I realize Rian didn’t have much time to explore everything he wanted to in the film, but I didn’t feel the Poe scenes with Holdo were nearly as jarring as the Kylo and Rey force connection scenes. We really needed more time and lingering shots to help catch our brains up with the breakneck pace of the information being exchanged between the characters. On top of this, many of the shots are too busy and distract from the important interactions happening between the characters. Rian seems to have been trying to cram so much into the film in every shot that he didn’t know what he should emphasize and what he should downplay in certain pivotal points.

This brings me to Rian’s greatest flaws in this film, and the items that to me mark him as unprepared to enter the big leagues--the pacing is poor and the music cues are underwhelming and dull. In a blockbuster film like TLJ, we should not have these issues; these are a mark of an independent filmmaker who hasn’t figured the magic out yet. The viewer is given whiplash as we race between four plotlines (A, B, C and Darkside), never taking a moment to breathe or rest. Even TFA, a briskly paced film if ever I saw one, took its time to breathe and absorb the scenery or allow us to drink in the characters’ emotions. In TLJ, we zip through character deaths, zip through Rey and Kylo interacting, zip through Poe and Holdo, zip through Finn and Rose, zip back to Luke and Rey, onward and upward. We’re never in one location long enough to get a grip on it and get into it; the moment things get interesting, we cut away to another plot without fully delving into what these interesting moments mean for the characters.

What’s interesting is that this breakneck pacing, because it’s used in every scene of the film, actually deflates the effect of the battle scenes, which is where such pacing should be emphasized! The battles in TLJ feel oddly stilted, slow, and awkward with no tension and no stakes despite what the narrative implies. There’s one distinct moment where the First Order’s just hanging out watching the Resistance while the Resistance members are having a group chat and not fighting them! It’s the classic “villain stands and waits politely while the heroes get their shit together and transform” moment. My only answer to that was a facepalm in the theatre. The final battles are embarrassing--we have this wonderful initial set up of the new walkers moving in, and then we get this bizarre cannon (whose beam Finn is able to drive into without being incinerated, answer me that one), and rather than doing anything with them, they just sit there the entire film and attack single characters. Truly Rian’s heart was not in this part of the story, and it shows.

The slapdash editing doesn’t give John Williams enough time to work with to create compelling themes for the film, unlike what we received from him in TFA. This soundtrack is sparse and dead. It relies solely on the nostalgia factor of short snippets of music from the original trilogy. The most interesting song is the Canto Bight theme, and we only get to hear it for about a minute before we’re arrested and shuffled off to another dingy location where the sound design is forgettable! It’s a complete travesty when compared to the glory and beauty of the TFA soundtrack, where we received Kylo’s and Rey’s themes and compelling new resistance motifs all remixed throughout the film. For there to be nothing new for the Kylo and Rey sequences, or for the Finn and Rose sequences, or even for the Poe sequences is a travesty and one of the greatest flaws in the film as far as I’m concerned. At the very least Kylo and Rey should have had a new variant on the Force Theme to symbolize their connection, not a rehash of the same theme that was Luke’s! For goodness’ sake. I’m deeply hurt that the gorgeous, beautiful themes from the second trailer didn’t make an appearance in the film. It’s nothing but a shame when the best piece of music is a custom-made trailer theme that never receives its due in the film proper. This is one area where I’ll be glad to have JJ back in the final film--at the very least the man knows how to direct properly for sound.

And last, and probably least in that it’s far more forgivable, Rian just couldn’t resist the cheese. The two scenes I found the most laughable in the whole film--and they should not have been given their importance and narrative weight--were Space Leia and Rey vs. Snoke. I’ve never been a fan of asian flying films, but most of those were far better done than these two bizarre flying characters. What a disgrace to Leia’s legacy and to Rey’s importance. There were many other ways to make Snoke a terrifying character without having him fly Rey about the room in an awkward CGI manner, and the less said about Space Leia the better.

My complaints aside, let it not be said that there is nothing of value in this film. What Rian fails in pacing and musical timing, he more than makes up for with set design and color scheme. The red theme in key scenes is mind blowing. The salt flats are some of the most memorable locations I’ve seen in a film in a long time. The journey of Rey’s hair and clothing choices is perfect. The final shot between Kylo and Rey is the pinnacle of heartbreak thanks to lighting and set choices along with the performances. And although Canto Bight gets only a small cameo, the opulence and majesty of the scenery is truly a sight to behold. Rian pulls out all the stops for beauty, and it’s readily apparent. My only wish is that we were allowed to soak in and enjoy the scenery before getting shunted off to the next location. =P

If I were judging TLJ on presentation alone, I’d probably give it a C at best. Rian is so, so lucky his narrative has enough substance to make up for his insufficiencies as a filmmaker, though there are certainly flaws in the narrative as well (that I’ll be covering in future posts).  That’s how much power the themes and the story and the characters have in this narrative--they’re able to overcome amateur filmmaking and plot pitfalls. That’s a powerful movie. And that Rian can be proud of, even if I think he probably should reassess some of his choices on this one. =P

Up next, we’ll be diving deeper into the narrative and tackling the general themes! The narrative and the characters and their relationships are where this film shines, and I won’t be able to do it justice without multiple posts. If you enjoyed this, I hope you’ll enjoy the rest!

Until next time!

[grizzbe]

Let the past die. Kill it if you have to.

After my third viewing of The Last Jedi, I think I’m ready to write down my thoughts on the movie. Follow below the cut for my spoilerific musings!

First off, I’ll put down a quick and easy guide as to whether you should bother to continue with reading my review or not: In your rankings of the Star Wars movies, does any prequel movie rank above TLJ? If so, you might as well move on. If not, keep on reading! 

Alright! I’m just going to say right off that bat that I loved it. I loved it the first time I saw it and I only love it more with each subsequent viewing.

The reason that it’s taken me so long to get around to this, though, is because I want to try my hardest to avoid some pitfalls that I feel are a bit easy for myself to fall into, namely to make this review simply a point-by-point list as to why your reasons for disliking this movie are wrong or simply word-vomit gushing over the movie.

So, I’ll start by saying that the movie is not without its faults. Some of its jokes are ham-fisted or fall flat, some of the visual effects (you know what I’m talking about) look wonky, some of its subplots could use a little tuning, and the whole thing probably could’ve been helped by increasing the timeline even just a few days.

That being said, the jokes aren’t bad and there are far more “Star Wars” jokes than those dastardly “off-brand” jokes that seem to be sticking in a lot of people’s craws.

 I’ve heard a lot of people complain about Leia’s force moment and while I’ll agree that it doesn’t work great visually, I am more than willing to accept it in its principle, especially considering that people can survive in the vacuum of space in real life (https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/survival-in-space-unprotected-possible/). Once you throw onto it Star Wars’ wacky take on physics and space in general, Leia surviving this moment is more than reasonable.

When it comes to subplots, the main thing that they’re about is quite simply character development. 

Poe learns that there’s more to being an effective leader than being an excellent flier. After putting the fleet and the whole of the Resistance in danger more than once over the course of a few days, Poe finally sees what it takes to be a leader through his mentor, Leia, and his foil throughout most of the film, Holdo. I’ve seen a lot of people upset at the “character assassination” that Poe goes through in TLJ, but I’ll argue that we finally got to see Poe be more than just a cardboard cutout in this film and he really shined because of it. I might have been more willing to accept this version of Poe since I’m an avid reader of his comic book, where him being an immature leader has been a plot point for at least the past year.

While some might just flat out hate the Canto Bight subplot, I appreciated it for what it was doing. Finn starts the movie as a man only concerned about himself and a couple of his closest friends (fully in line with where the character was at the end of TFA). It’s only through his time with Rose and his interactions with DJ that he comes to realize that he can’t just hide and that he needs to drive himself forwards. DJ even offers him a false, easy escape, “Live free, don’t join” and Finn sees it for what it is: a man unwilling to stand up for what is right. Finn ends his journey a true hero of the Resistance.

And while other might be upset with how the film portrayed Luke, I loved it. The man screwed up. He retreated, exiled himself and resigned the end of his story to that of a hermit whose only option is to die alone. Rey appears, and while she has her own journey (she goes from putting all of her faith in Luke, to putting it in Ben, to finally putting it in herself), she riles in Luke a desire to once again be the man that he knows he can be.

Which brings me to my final point: the movie subverts expectations at almost every turn and does so beautifully. People expect Luke to face down the First Order and single-handedly save the Republic with his lightsaber. Luke does this, but he does it his way, through an amazing show of Force Power (In which the man creates a corporeal force projection of himself and other objects across the universe).

People expect Kylo Ren to listen to his master and fight Rey, but he tricks Snoke (side note: I could write a whole other post on how amazing Serkis was in this role) and proves that the Supreme Leader, in his hubris, had hugely underestimated his apprentice.

People expect Poe, Rose, and Finn’s plan to work flawlessly and save the Rebellion. It doesn’t and they all have to learn and grow and pay for that mistake. 

And on top of all that, we get one of the best laser sword fights in the whole of the canon, an excellent performance from Adam Driver as Kylo Ren (holy shit, is he built like a brick shithouse. In case you were unaware, Driver is a former marine), and, in my opinion, EXCELLENT answers to the “Who is Snoke?” and “Who are Rey’s parents?” questions (hint, it doesn’t fucking matter. The past is the past, look to the future. This is a call out to my post’s title, btw).

So, this is already too long and I want to discuss some things I’m looking forward to in the next film. Suffice it to say, the movie is excellent and I’m super excited to see Rian Johnson’s take in his trilogy.

Okay! Next movie, I’ll just jot down a few things:

I fully expect Rey to consult a Force Ghost Jedi Council comprised of Luke, Obi-Wan, Yoda, Anakin, and Qui Gon at least twice. I’m going to feel real cheated if we don’t get this.

The next movie is going to involve a pretty significant time jump. I’d say at least five years.

As a Damerey shipper, I’m actually concerned that we’ll miss the opening salvos of the relationship in the time jump and the movie will just start with them together in a committed relationship. Don’t rob us of this JJ.

For those that are going nuts right now wondering how I can be a Damerey shipper after they’ve only spoken to each other once, did you even see the scene?!? And you can’t just throw the two most loaded words in the whole of the Star Wars canon on us and not expect us to want some payout.

I don’t think Kylo will die, he is the last of the Skywalkers, after all, but he’ll be in exile, probably self-imposed, where he’ll try to learn from Anakin and Luke.

With Leia unfortunately out of the picture, I really want Lando and Wedge to come in as Leaders of the Resistance. While the new group will undoubtedly rise to prominence in the ranks (much like the OT trio), the leaders of the whole movement can’t be flying into battles or leading from the ground.

So that’s about it. I, of course, have way more but this thing is already an insane amount of word vomit. If you have any other thoughts that you’d like to kick around with me, please feel free to message me!

[fayewonglibrary]

THE ICE QUEEN OF CANTO (2002)

Faye Wong was known for her scalding temper as much as her singing but now she’s cool, collected and very much in control. Don’t believe the hype, she tells Vivienne Chow.

“The truth doesn’t matter any more,” intones a calm and collected Faye Wong, when she is asked whether her relationship with Cantopop star Nicholas Tse Ting-fung is on the rocks. She leans purposefully back in her comfy chair, snaps a bite out of a square of French toast and summons her assistant for another packet of Mild Seven cigarettes. It isn’t so easy to rile Faye Wong any more.

Three years ago, it would scarcely have been noteworthy had the pop diva launched herself at me across the table and jammed the toast into my eye. At a press conference at Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Centre in 1999, Wong lost her temper when an inquisitive journalist from Singapore submitted a question about her divorce from Beijing rock star Dou Wei. She screamed at the reporter, told her it was no one’s business but her own and stormed out in the kind of dramatic huff only stars seem able to carry off.

All I get is a cheerful, perhaps defiant smile and a puff of cigarette smoke. Wong appears only too happy to consider the question, despite the over-anxious butt-in from another assistant, who says: “Would you please cancel that question!” - intent on smothering the 32-year-old singer. Quite obviously, however, she can take care of herself.

“I’ve already answered it,” Wong cuts in. Well, actually, she hasn’t. What she has said is this: “The main function of the entertainment press is to get stories that are entertaining but sometimes the truth may not be as juicy as you imagine. Even if I answer the questions honestly, they still make up stories. They have their own ideas on how my private life should be. I have no desire to change that image so I choose not to answer. In this way they can continue to write whatever they want to.”

So she’s answered by questioning the question’s validity - that old celebrity trick - but at least that toast is staying on her side of the table. “Sometimes the entertainment news about me covers details I have never heard before,” she says. “I quite enjoy reading the stories myself. I’m just so fascinated by this. But I’m not keen to tell people who I am or explain to people what I have or haven’t done. Now I don’t really mind what has been written about me.”

That’s about as close an answer as anyone’s likely to get from Wong on the state of her relationship with Tse, who is 11 years her junior. Not that you can really blame her. Since the couple walked out of a private function, hand in hand, two years ago, they have been pursued relentlessly by the paparazzi.

And that’s hardly surprising, given Wong is the undisputed queen of Cantopop and Tse, a Cantopop star himself, is also the son of 1960s heart-throb actor Patrick Tse Yin and actress Deborah Lai. That was more than enough star quality to send even the most haggard entertainment hack into a frenzy when the couple’s romance was first revealed. Now there are rumours of a parting of ways, the gossip machine is again moving into overdrive.

But Wong has learned to be philosophical following the often fanatical media interest surrounding her marriage to Dou in 1996 and divorce three years later. “I’m more open-minded now,” she says. “At the beginning, I got upset quite often by the way I was portrayed in the newspapers and how people saw me. But since I can’t ask the entire world to change for me, I now look at these matters in a positive way.”

Until, that is, her five-year-old daughter by Dou, Ching-tung, is added to the mix. Ching-tung has been the subject of cut-throat press clamour since even before she was born. The battle to publish the first photograph of Wong pregnant resulted in a court case between rival newspapers Oriental Sunday and Apple Daily. The Oriental Sunday snapped the slightly swelling singer in the baggage lounge of Beijing Airport in October 1996 - the first confirmation that the star was expecting - and took Apple to court after it printed a spoiler story on the front page, including the picture, on the same day.

Since then, even the little girl has had to run the press gauntlet. On February 1, Chinese-language entertainment magazine Sudden Weekly published photographs of Ching-tung at the Hong Kong International School and ran an interview allegedly conducted with her on her way to the school in Repulse Bay. The interview claimed the youngster said Tse hadn’t visited her mother for some time. Wong was understandably furious. And for a moment, as she recounts the episode to me, the expression that darkens her face would, I know, have been terrifyingly familiar to the unfortunate reporter at the press conference three years ago. Wong leans forward. She’s more serious now. The interview never took place, she says. “I checked with my maid and spoke to my daughter. She has never done this kind of interview before. Sure, she might have said hello to someone but there couldn’t have been enough time for her to tell a reporter so many details.

"I understand people want to read about her and she cannot escape from being harassed because she is my daughter. It is not harmful if they make up stories about me but she is only a five-year-old child. Can’t the public sacrifice a little bit of their curiosity so the child can grow up in a healthy environment? Can’t they at least just wait till she’s older?”

Up close, it’s easy to see why Wong’s face graces so many magazine covers. She has beautiful, big round eyes. She says her tall and slender figure requires little maintenance, even after she gave birth to Ching-tung. And Wong is a trend-setter. What she wears will often become the hottest fahsion items of the season - even though she seems to be the only person able to carry off what are often quirky designs.

Born in 1969, Wong moved to Hong Kong with her family from Beijing at the end of 1987 when she was 18. Her enthusiasm for singing led her to the respected voice coach Tai Sze-chung and , at just 20, she was recommended by Tai to Cinepoly, with which she secured a record deal.

In 1989, Wong released her debut album, Shirley Wong Ching-man, a stage name she then used, which won her Commercial Radio’s Ultimate Female Newcomer(Bronze) award. In 1991, she left for the United States to study music. When she returned the next year, she released the album Coming Home, which became her first platinum record. She retrieved her real name, Wong Fei - Faye Wong - in 1994 and has so far made 22 studio albums.

In 1997, Wong announced she would make no more Cantonese albums when she left Cinepoly for global giant EMI. But she does sing the occcasional Cantonese song in addition to the records in Putonghua. “It is a marketing decision,” she says. “To sing well, one has to master the language in order to deliver the best sound. Putonghua is my native tongue so naturally I’m more confident with this language. But records are considered a commodity and we must take sales into account.”

Wong’s singing and songwriting talents, if widely recognised, are often tagged under the “alternative” label, although she has been voted best female singer on numerous occasions in Hong Kong, the mainland and Southeast Asia, and took the best alternative song composition trophy last year at the CASH Golden Sail Awards in the SAR with Han Wu Jie.

This kind of success usually brings a measure of satisfaction, so how does Wong still find herself singing songs she deosn’t particularly like? “I enjoy performing my own compositions but my taste in music is too off-mainstream and only a few people appreciate that,” says Wong, who has covered songs by Tori Amos and collaborated with Cocteau Twins. “I know what the masses like and I know they skip my compositions and listen to the commercial tracks. Hong Kong is not like Japan, where it accomodates various musical styles. I have too many business partners and I must consider their interests as well. I’m more mature now and I strike a balance between my personal interests and commercial value.”

Thus, she is promoting her new film. It is the Lunar New Year crowd-drawer Chinese Odyssey 2002, her fourth film, in which she plays opposite Tony Leung Chiu-wai. It is also a testament to her new, more-mellow attitude. When she last played opposite Leung in Chungking Express in 1994, Wong barely spoke to her co-star. This time, in a hectic two-month shoot over Christmas, she says the pair got on well. Leung told the South China Morning Post she “seemed like a different person this time. She is very cheerful and friendly.”

Wong plays the role of Princess Wu Shuang, who escapes from her palace for fun, often disguising herself as a man, only for both a man and a woman to fall for her. “Filming Chungking Express was painful for me because I had no idea what I was doing at all,” she says. “But Chinese Odyssey 2002 was an enjoyable experience - though I didn’t have time to sleep. The team spirit was fantastic.”

But it’s not just her character that changed between the two movies, she insists. Wong Kar-wai, the director of Chungking Express, and Jeff Lau Chun-wai, who wrote and directed Chinese Odyssey 2002, were two extremes. “As I am not confident and experienced with acting, I need demonstrations on how to act,” she says. “Jeff gave me very clear direction: he is willing to teach, whereas Wong Kar-wai did not want me to understand what was on his mind. I just had to perform what he told me to and some of the situations were quite embarrassing. Sometimes I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. It was good for me because there was no need for me to analyse the character. But now I want to know more about acting.”

In Wong’s 1994 song Exit, she describes herself as having a lack of patience. That’s one thing that has not changed. After 30 minutes, a clutch of cigarettes and a snack attack of toast, she gets up with an “Is that OK?” and has exited left before even her hovering assistants can pretend it was their idea.

------------------------------------------------------------------

SOURCE: THE SOUTH CHINA MORNING POST

[wannabealto]

Hey y’all,

Damn it’s been literal YEARS since I’ve posted here. Therefore, we’re gonna do a quick recap for posterity reasons so here goes nothing (I don’t remember everything but I’m gonna mention important bits of what I can)

Freshman year:

- started at Michigan living in the dorms

- Got kinda sorta grey zone sexually coerced/assaulted by someone I was interested in romantically

- Was borderline assulted again by a different person who didn’t take no for an answer, but nothing serious occurred (thank god)

- Unknowingly spiraled into absolute Manic Pixi Dream Girl behavior, self-loathing was at a normal place though

- Got into an incredibly messy relationship with someone from high school

- bf spread some pretty important and personal info to someone and I got severely freaked. Should’ve broken up, ended up not doing it and losing all trust

- performed in a masters recital which was super lit

Sophomore year:

- returned from interlochen which was both the best and worst lol

- David was gone for a month or so first semester in order to perform. Got to work with different people, but most importantly, Elizabeth Bishop who I idolized and was willing to follow

- didn’t actively work to make friends, spent most the time with the bf

- took over a half year lease that ended up becoming entirely MY lease after the girl bailed and despised the incredibly rude roommates who were absolute garbage and incredibly selfish

- hit the sophomore slump real hard

- ended up creating one of my best recitals ever- my Samuel Barber lecture recital which was incredibly done and took the efforts of so many people and was so wonderful to put on. I’m still so proud of my work and I feel better about it every time I look at it

- continued to grow musically, applied to summer programs and was rejected. All good though. Only bothered me a lot at the time

- worked on the cello/Katz collaboration concert for “Loves philosophy” which is still a beast. Was very sick for the performance but pulled a good one out

- should’ve failed the final theory class, but Nathan Martin passed me like the god he is and I received my first ever C in a class!! Cause he thought I was a senior.... did I mention the sophomore slump??

- starting to get really angry at this point at the world, losing the softer (hard to believe I know) edge I was capable of

- significant weight gain to the highest I have ever (and hopefully will ever) reached. Only admitting to 175, but in all reality, was most likely over 180. Not doing too hot

- lost the weight and got plastered at a one year olds birthday party. Honestly a stellar story

Junior year:

- David is accused of drugging and raping another singer 10 years ago

-absolute chaos descends in the school and the studio dispurses amongst the teachers. Many of us are placed with Carmen Pelton

- A girl from an old program transfers to Michigan and we are very fast friends due to oberlin connections. Finally getting more social as a result

- Carmen and I do NOT get along in the slightest and it looks like I’m in for a very stressful year

- I am part of my first staged opera chorus in Candide. Have an absolute blast

- Mathew Ozawa is a goddamn gift from heaven. Best class I’ve taken at Michigan and he’s such a delight. Very helpful to me for applications and dealing with unrecognized trauma.

- places in chamber choir for the second year, now working with former conductor. It’s going alright so far and I’m still in love with choir despite the affect on solo singing

- getting angrier overall. Littler things are setting me off, especially with bf

- places with new (free) pianist because I needed a free one. Derv and I are no longer together and my new pianist is.... interesting.

- new pianist is absolutely terrible

- auditions for Alcina come up, recit is completely bombed

- got my first ever named role, Oberto, double cast with the transfer. Found out through contact with David prior to the release

- more David news hits regarding a student and an indecent Grindr proposal. Potential legal cases to follow up

- major illness which results in absence from school before major choir performance. Carmen excuses me via email with director who then chews me out a good 10 minutes (in front of peers) for my unprofessionalism. Leaves room in tears. I never show up early to another day of choir for this man again.

-

- beginning next semester, a student accuses David of drugging and assaulting him

- massive stress moment of “what the fuck”

- anger is steadily increasing

- Alcina is a mess, Oberto is all wrong for me, and I am very resentful. Directing is chaotic at best and music rehearsals are useless

- opera workshop is a disaster and I loath it. Given two IMPOSSIBLE to learn scenes that must be memorized the same day the opera opens. Absolute madness.

- choir tensions are rising between the director and I. A noticeable amount. Becoming continually singled out with any criticism. I have taken to rolling eyes and muttering under my breath. I never receive another solo opportunity and he in fact snaps at me so hard one day, I attempt to take him to the dean for behavioral issues.

- were still bookin up to that breaking point.

- lessons with Carmen are going much better, and I’m starting to enjoy her some days. Not always, but the relationship is building. Still won’t let me sing glitter despite all my efforts to let her let me.

- getting closer to my best friend in the whole world and making a few others along the way

- planning for junior recital with transfer, pianist will not learn music, is required to pull out, transfer will not take no for an answer

- cue massive panic attack and an even bigger fallout

- loss of people I considered friends due to lies spread by transfer, incredible amounts of pain. Breaking point has been reached following talk with Ally. I have never felt more alone in my entire life.

- my anger and self loathing are unfortunately taken out a little more than just pure verbalizing and are more sinister with bf

- huge personal come to Jesus as a result

- reachingout more to friends which helps ground me

- we go to summer

- no summer programs, rejections and chorus offers with no scholarship. Another summer working

- finally reaches musical breaking point, wants to not finish the degree, begins despairing at the thought of returning to school, never wants to sing again. Mother fears for my safety an is about to pull me from classes.

- mother suggests study abroad. I finally see a light in all of this. I agree and begin my search for a school and eventually settle on the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland.

- bf and I decide on a break, I find I am much happier and miss him desperately. I have gay sex!

- bf and I get back together for a short while before another trust break (this will be the fourth) results in me being done forever.

- finally single and livin life large

- beginning work on senior recitals including chamber commission with exbf and Handel cantata following junior year performance in a Purcell cantata as a soloist. First technical oratorio gig!

- offered to premier a newly discovered Scarlatti work. Incredible opportunity!! Took it!! Got professionally filmed!! Beginning a baroque music relationship with head of department. Absolutely love it

- begins work on first bel canto mad scene

Enters into senior year