#retellings of fairy tales and old stories etc etc with women in the lead and romantic roles instead

[cyberphuck]

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(tumblr cut off MOST of my tags in this, thanks Tumblr)

[princesssarisa]

Sleeping Beauty Spring: "Dornröschen" ("Briar Rose") (1971 German film)

This Sleeping Beauty from the East German studio DEFA – the same studio that would co-produce the 1973 Czech/German cult classic Three Wishes for Cinderella – is no run-of-the-mill retelling of the fairy tale. First of all, much like Three Wishes for Cinderella, it takes a grounded, almost realistic approach to the story, with the magical elements depicted as subtly as the plot allows. Secondly, it portrays some of the characters in a different light than usual. Reflecting the values of East Germany's socialist government, it avoids the usual simple portrait of benevolent royalty and a villainous fairy, and glorifies the virtues of humility, kindness, loyalty, and work.

While I had to watch the film without English subtitles, I was able to follow along thanks to my reasonable knowledge of German, as well as the synopsis from the film's German Wikipedia page, and a JStor essay I found that analyzes all of DEFA's fairy tale adaptations.

In this Sleeping Beauty, the main antagonist isn't the angry fairy, but the King (Helmut Schreiber), who, while a devoted father, is spoiled, hot-tempered, and selfish. When he learns that he owns just twelve golden plates for the fairies, rather than bother to have another one made, he petulantly chooses not to invite the Fairy of Diligence (Vera Oleschlegel) to the celebration of Princess Rosalinde's birth. On the feast day, the fairies – who outwardly resemble ordinary ladies in elegant white dresses – give the princess their blessings in a ritual that has each bring forth a symbolic physical gift: a mirror for beauty, a book for intelligence, etc. The Fairy of Diligence – who is neither old nor visually "dark," but a golden-haired lady in a white gown like the other fairies – arrives unexpectedly with the gift of a spinning wheel, representing good, honest work, and only when the King insults her further does she change her gift to a curse. The other fairies side with her against the King, but for the princess's sake, the twelfth fairy softens the curse from death to sleep and amends it so the King, the Queen, and their court will sleep too.

The Fairy of Diligence doesn't leave the castle, but withdraws into a tower, which the King has surrounded by an iron gate, imprisoning her forever (so he thinks). He then has his soldiers confiscate and burn all the kingdom's spindles. This leads to a harsh sequence where peasant women, shown cheerfully spinning and singing at the film's beginning, are pitilessly robbed of their source of livelihood.

When Princess Rosalinde (Juliane Korén) turns fifteen, the King is so confident that the curse will never come true that, despite the Queen's objections, he leads the court on a royal hunt, leaving the princess alone. The lively, inquisitive Rosalinde resolves to try to enter the mysterious forbidden tower. The gate's lock breaks in her hand, and inside, she finds the still youthful and elegant Fairy of Diligence spinning at her wheel. The Fairy holds no ill will toward the princess and gives her a genuine lesson in spinning, then gently leads her to a bed after she pricks her finger, and promises that one day a prince will arrive to wake her. Meanwhile, the newly-returned King, Queen, and court all freeze in place like statues rather than physically sleeping, just as they did in the 1955 West German film, and a hedge of thorns grows around the castle.

A hundred years later, in a tavern, Prince Ferdinand (Burkhard Mann) hears a hurdy-gurdy man sing a haunting folk song about the sleeping "Briar Rose." He then sees Rosalinde's image engraved on an old coin, falls instantly in love, and sets out to find the castle. Throughout these scenes, the prince does deeds that reveal his kindness, in contrast to the long-lost King. The Fairy of Diligence appears disguised as a poor woman and asks him to climb a cliffside to retrieve her spindle from an eagle's nest. After he obliges, she shows him magical visions of rewards she could offer him, but he wants only to find "Briar Rose." Finally, the Fairy shows him the way to the castle, where the briars sprout red roses and part for him.

After Ferdinand's kiss wakes Rosalinde, and the court unfreezes, the young lovers ask the King to bless their marriage. The King refuses because Ferdinand is only the prince of small kingdom, but the Fairy of Diligence intervenes. She strips the King of his crown and declares Ferdinand and Rosalinde the new king and queen, because they've proven their virtues and earned the right to rule. At their coronation feast, the Fairy gives Rosalinde her spinning wheel as a gift and urges her to teach her subjects to spin again. Thus the film ends the way it began, with the kingdom's women happily singing as they spin.

While this grounded production isn't the lavish visual spectacle that other Sleeping Beauties are, its filming location of the Renaissance-era Hartenfels Castle is beautiful, and the costumes are a handsome and faintly fanciful depiction of 18th and later 19th century fashion through a slight '70s lens. Likewise, the musical score is a stylistic blend of classical and '70s pop – similar to the music of Three Wishes for Cinderella – and while the pop elements are jarring at times, it all has a certain charm too. The cast is also well-chosen. But what really makes this film stand out are its unique storytelling choices.

Whether this Dornröschen becomes a favorite Sleeping Beauty or not, I recommend seeing it.

@ariel-seagull-wings, @reds-revenge, @thealmightyemprex, @paexgo-rosa, @thatscarletflycatcher, @faintingheroine, @the-blue-fairie, @themousefromfantasyland, @autistic-prince-cinderella

[the-light-followed]

WYRD SISTERS (1988) [DISC. #6; WITCHES #2]

“‘No one would come up here this time of night.’  Magrat peered around timidly.  Here and there on the moor were huge standing stones, their origins lost in time, which were said to lead mobile and private lives of their own. She shivered.  ‘What’s to be afraid of?’ she managed.  ‘Us,’ said Granny Weatherwax, smugly.”

Rating: 6/10

Standalone Okay: Yes

Read First: Yeah!

Discworld Books Masterpost: [x]

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I’m just going to jump right in with this one: the best part about the Witches sub-series of the Discworld is that they are all, in their own way, stories about stories.  They’re stories that follow other stories, the tropes and archetypes and established narrative structure, but they’re also stories that subvert that structure at just the right moment to make something that feels much more truthful, and often, much more real.

Stories about stories.

This is sometimes very literal: Wyrd Sisters, for example, has very obvious Shakespearean roots, notably from Hamlet and Macbeth, and seems to gleefully delight in throwing around references—three witches meeting to cast spells, blood on the murderer’s hands that won’t wash away, the ghost of a murdered father begging his son to seek revenge, a theater called The Dysk that mimics Shakespeare’s Globe, etc., etc., etc.—that then get turned over on their heads.  We’ll see it done again with the fairy tale elements of Witches Abroad, and the Phantom of the Opera parody that is Maskerade. These books are, in a very real sense, skipping the setup and instead using cultural touchstones as framework. The books starring the witches are literally new stories being told about stories we, the audience, already know and recognize.

But sometimes it isn’t literal at all: witches, after all, work magic most often through psychology and metaphor.  “Headology,” as the witches call it, is the basis of witchcraft, and it’s all about the stories being told.  It’s in the things the witches do for respect, like their hats and black outfits and their out-of-the-way cottages they pass down from one witch to the next, or the way they bow instead of curtsey.  It’s in the things they call magic even when it isn’t, like using real herbs and medicines to cure illnesses, or waving their hands over a pot of tea and chanting nonsense before ‘reading the future’ in the leaves, all of it only for the look of the thing from the outside.

And it’s also in the things they tell themselves. For example, when Magrat’s broomstick stops working in Wyrd Sisters, she does what she calls a Change spell—which simply means that the rest of the world remains the same, but she changes the way she sees herself.  Before, she was a young woman on a broom rapidly falling out of the sky, and now she’s a confident young witch who can deal with any disaster that comes her way, so she’s therefore a lot less worried about it.  

And it works.  That’s the thing: Magrat is just fine.  Witches do magic in and on themselves, it’s all nothing more than a thought, and yet it works.

None of the Witches books are particularly subtle about the point they’re trying to make with the whole deal, either.  In Wyrd Sisters, it seems like everyone is talking about the power of words and stories, the way that the things we tell ourselves and each other can shape the reality of the world we inhabit.  There are some negatives you can pull out of that message—history is malleable and written by the victors, propaganda triumphs over the truth, etc., etc.  But there are a lot of more interesting, thought-provoking ideas to consider, instead. For example: just because narrative structure has already delivered us the broad strokes of the plot (anyone who’s studied any Shakespeare, which can reasonably be assumed to be any native English speaker older than about sixteen, can probably guess the general course of Wyrd Sisters by about page twenty), it doesn’t mean there can’t be originality and meaning in the specifics.

And that originality and meaning is what makes all the Discworld books work so well.  Pratchett is parodying, sure, but he’s also creating something very new and earnest and sincere, and that just doesn’t work if the story is an exact beat-for-beat retelling of an already-told tale.

Wyrd Sisters agrees with that idea. Destiny is all well and good—it’s nice to think that what’s to come is pre-planned, easy to predict, and impossible to subvert—but the world just doesn’t work like that.  The story isn’t plotted out in advance.

As Pratchett says later in the book: “Destiny was funny stuff…You couldn’t trust it.  Often you couldn’t even see it.  Just when you knew you had it cornered, it turned out to be something else—coincidence, maybe, or providence.  You barred the door against it, and it was standing behind you.  Then just when you thought you had it nailed down it walked away with the hammer.”

The witches certainly don’t truck with destiny.  Or, well, it may be a tool in their storytelling arsenal, but they don’t see it as a concrete thing.  Destiny is what you make of it, and Granny and Nanny are movers and shakers.  That makes it especially ironic that the book is called Wyrd Sisters—the word “wyrd” is an old Anglo-Saxon concept referring to fate or personal destiny, so the “wyrd sisters” themselves typically would be the three Fates, a la Greek mythology, rather than three women who tend to grab Fate and Destiny by the ears and twist until they decide to agree that the witches have the right of it.

Honestly, though, if Granny Weatherwax looked at me like that, I’d do whatever she wanted, too.

I just want to bring up something I really like about Pratchett’s writing style: despite the fantastical setting, despite how far from reality he can get, he’s not afraid to switch to Roundworld concepts or just flat-out break the fourth wall in exchange for better, more impactful descriptions.  I like to call this cinematic writing, and sometimes that’s actually very literal. There are quite a few passages in various Discworld books where he starts to write in an almost movie-script style.  After Moving Pictures, which is still a good four books away at this point, I think that becomes less notable.  Here, and in the previous few Discworld books (Mort, Sourcery, Equal Rites), when Discworld does not have any parallel equivalent to Roundworld’s Hollywood, it’s pretty damn unusual for an author to just outright throw aside their own fantasy setting to make a description in real-world terms.

My favorite example of this from Wyrd Sisters:

“It is almost impossible to convey the sudden passage of fifteen years and two months in words.  It’s a lot easier in pictures, when you just use a calendar with lots of pages blowing off, or a clock with hands moving faster and faster until they blur, or trees bursting into blossom and fruiting in a matter of seconds… Well, you know.  Or the sun becomes a fiery streak across the sky, and days and nights flicker past jerkily like a bad zoetrope, and the fashions visible in the clothes shop across the road whip on and off faster than a lunchtime stripper with five pubs to do. There are any amount of ways, but they won’t be required because, in fact, none of this happened.”

You can practically imagine the way that scene would look in a blockbuster movie, and it’s wonderful that Pratchett describes it crystal clear just to let us know that it is not, in fact, how it looked at all.

There’s a lot more to like about Wyrd Sisters, too, for all that it isn’t one of my favorite Discworld books.  It’s a far better introduction to the witches—specifically Granny Weatherwax—than Equal Rites is, even though Equal Rites is technically the first book in the Witches sub-series.  It introduces some characters we’ll see a lot more of later, like King Verence and the greater Ogg family, but also characters that will go on to become staples of the Discworld, like Nanny Ogg and Magrat.  We also have some lovely cameos from already established characters: notably Death and his interactions during the play at the castle, but there are some good Ankh-Morpork moments, like the Librarian’s appearance at a barfight.

And we get to see the good old Discworld humor really click—it’s all about that balance between absurdism and realism, or between established tropes and self-awareness.  One of my favorite examples of this comes right at the beginning of the book:

“As the cauldron bubbled an eldritch voice shrieked: ‘When shall we three meet again?’  There was a pause.  Finally another voice said, in far more ordinary tones: ‘Well, I can do next Tuesday.’”

Pratchett’s really got a sense for it by this point, and he can deliver zinger after unexpectedly delightful zinger.  Discworld books are always beautifully funny, of course, even though after a while you really get a feel for when a good joke is coming.  Some people might think that knowing the punchline is coming might make it less funny: it absolutely does not.  All it does is make the unexpected, sneaky moments—when the humor Pratchett has been secretly setting up for ages finally creeps up to smack you in the face—hit harder.  Maybe others disagree, but I can read Discworld novels again and again, and they always get me just as much as they did the first time through.  In my opinion, that’s real comedic talent.

Up next in the series we have Pyramids, our first unconnected one-off story, which is wonderfully weird even for a Discworld book!  Stay tuned!

* * * * * * * * * *

Side Notes:

Every time that oh-so popular Ankh-Morporkian dive bar, the Drum, pops up, it’s fun to note where it’s at these days: Mended Drum, Broken Drum, etc.  In Wyrd Sisters, Tomjon and Hwel go drinking in the Mended Drum.

There are several adaptations of Wyrd Sisters, including a 4-part BBC radio show, an animated film, and a stageplay.

As I go over my highlighted quotes and annotations from each book, putting these posts together, I learn more and more about myself.  What I like, what I find funny, what I care to notice.  For example, Vetinari shows up exactly ONCE in this book, and just in a footnote, and yet I still highlighted it and wrote a note next to it that contained mostly exclamation points.  There’s no real point to this; I just want everyone to know how much I love Vetinari.

Favorite Quotes:

“As the cauldron bubbled an eldritch voice shrieked: ‘When shall we three meet again?’ There was a pause.  Finally another voice said, in far more ordinary tones: ‘Well, I can do next Tuesday.’”

“Witches are not by nature gregarious, at least with other witches, and they certainly don’t have leaders.  Granny Weatherwax was the most highly-regarded of the leaders they didn’t have.”

“Now, just when a body would have been useful, it had let him down.  Or out.”

“‘No one would come up here this time of night.’ Magrat peered around timidly.  Here and there on the moor were huge standing stones, their origins lost in time, which were said to lead mobile and private lives of their own.  She shivered.  ‘What’s to be afraid of?’ she managed.  ‘Us,’ said Granny Weatherwax, smugly.”

“‘How many times have you thrown a magic ring into the deepest depths of the ocean and then, when you get home and have a nice bit of turbot for your tea, there it is?’ They considered this in silence. ‘Never,’ said Granny irritably. ‘And nor have you.’”

“His body was standing to attention.  Despite all his efforts his stomach stood at ease.”

“Back down on the plains, when you kicked people they kicked back.  Up here, when you kicked people they moved away and just waited patiently for your leg to fall off.”

“The Ogg grandchildren were encouraged to believe that monsters from the dawn of time dwelt in its depths, since Nanny believed that a bit of thrilling and pointless terror was an essential ingredient of the magic of childhood.”

“She gave the guards a nod as she went through.  It didn’t occur to either of them to stop her because witches, like beekeepers and big gorillas, went where they liked.  In any case, an elderly lady banging a bowl with a spoon was probably not the spearhead of an invasion force.”

“‘You’re wondering whether I really would cut your throat,’ panted Magrat.  ‘I don’t know either.  Think of the fun we could have together, finding out.’”

“Wizards assassinated each other in drafty corridors, witches just cut one another dead in the street.  And they were all as self-centered as a spinning top.  Even when they help other people, she thought, they’re secretly doing it for themselves.  Honestly, they’re just like big children.  Except for me, she thought smugly.”

“‘Man just went past with a cat on his head,’ one of them remarked, after a minute or two’s reflection.  ‘See who it was?’  ‘The Fool, I think.’  There was a thoughtful pause.  The second guard shifted his grip on his halberd.  ‘It’s a rotten job,’ he said.  ‘But I suppose someone’s got to do it.’”

“Granny’s implicit belief that everything should get out of her way extended to other witches, very tall trees and, on occasion, mountains.”

“Only in our dreams are we free.  The rest of the time we need wages.”

“Words were indeed insubstantial.  They were as soft as water, but they were also as powerful as water and now they were rushing over the audience, eroding the levees of veracity, and carrying away the past.”

“‘Witches just aren’t like that,’ said Magrat.  ‘We live in harmony with the great cycles of Nature, and do no harm to anyone, and it’s wicked of them to say we don’t.  We ought to fill their bones with hot lead.’”

“‘I shall haunt their corridors,’ he said, ‘and whisper under the doors on still nights.’ His voice grew fainter, almost lost in the ceaseless roar of the river.  ‘I shall make basket chairs creak most alarmingly, just you wait and see.’ Death grinned at him.  NOW YOU’RE TALKING.”

[ithacamoma]

20 QUESTIONS FOR: TAMMY SALZL

image courtesy of the artist and DC3 Art Projects

1.Name:

Tammy Salzl

2.Occupation(s):

Artist, Sessional Teacher in Senior Level Painting at the University of Alberta.

3.Where are you from and what is your education?

I was born in Edmonton, AB, into a gigantic dysfunctional family with 18 aunts and uncles, 42 first cousins and barely one parent. I spent my summers being tortured as an English speaking city slicker in French speaking prairie farm communities. Retreating into art and stories and animals was the salvation I didn’t find in the fundamentalist religion I was periodically thrown into. For my undergrad I did 2 years at ACAD (Now called AUArts), and finished my BFA at the University of Alberta.  I received my Masters in Studio Arts (Painting) at Concordia University in Montreal 2014 and have been expanding my practice to include video and multimedia installation since graduation.

4.Where do you live/work (neighbourhood/city/country)?

For the past 3 yrs I’ve been splitting my year between the Southside of Edmonton, AB. and Parc Ex in Montreal QC. I have family in both places, which makes this both possible and necessary.

5.Does your location affect your practice?  

Definitely! Emotionally, psychologically and logistically. I’m lucky to be able to spend time in both eastern and western Canada. Sometimes they seem like entirely different worlds and it’s a privilege to be able to step into both. It broadens my field of vision.

6.What is your favourite tool in the studio?

I have two favourite things. My glue gun, because I love glueing stuff, it makes me feel like a little kid again! I also love it when I have a fresh, unused brush in hand.

7.Where do you look for your source material?

Everywhere! Movies, books, (I love sci-fi books, and I just finished 2 books by Yuval Noah Harari - Sapiens and 21 Lessons for the 21st Century - so gooood!) mythology, ecology, weird/wondrous animals (like the barrel eye fish or the Aye-aye), bus stops, Edmonton’s River valley, back alleys in Montreal, weird stop motion animations, the fresh sights, sounds and smells that come with travel, looking at art and, occasionally, the bottom of my wine glass.

8.What is you daily art world read?

I email subscribe to a bunch of art blogs (like Hyperallergic and artdaily.org etc), and I also try to read Border Crossings and Canadian Art magazines, but honestly a lot of my art world reads come from instagram. Cuz you know… pictures.

9.What is your daily non-art-world read?

I love science and nature blogs. I really enjoy nature.com, naturecanada.ca,  futurism.com/, and for quick global news stuff I like Quartz Daily Brief. It’s hard…you don’t want to be ill informed yet it’s so bleak out there…I think overexposure to media can be harmful. I try to find a balance.

10.What role does writing play in your practice?

Sadly, not much. It’s an inescapable task for every artist, and one I dearly wish I could escape. That said, aside from the necessary evil of artist statement/proposal/grant type of writing, I sometimes play at creative writing. I make little one page tales that turn into paintings, or I write a short narratives based on something I’ve made. I’ll often have automatic writing embedded in my underpaintings, and if you look hard enough you can sometimes find traces of a word here and there.

11.What role does research play in your practice?

Because I peddle in tales, I research the history, culture, psychology, pop culture, philosophy of whatever traditional tale or mythology I’m referencing, and how others have interpreted those tales over time - even if I’m referencing something like Dr. Seuss. I often tie that into the research I do out of my interest in ecology and nature. For me, working representationally means there is intension in everything. I try to have layers of meaning and make work that engenders multiple interpretations. I research the symbolism and history of objects, places, animals, colours , etc. With my installations there is a lot of material research involved as well.

12.What role does collaboration play in your practice?

Since expanding my painting practice into intermedia work, I’ve done quite a bit of collaborating in the form of “I don’t know how to do this technical thing so I need to find someone who does”. It’s taught me a lot in terms of learning to communicate and work with others. As a solitary person, it’s a challenge for me, but I also find it incredibly rewarding and enriching. Also, a couple of years ago 4 female artist friends and I began an art collective called IFPP (incubator for phantom pregnancies) We’ve staged a couple exhibitions and have some upcoming shows, and it’s been really great. You learn a lot about yourself in a collaborative process, and it’s exhilarating ending up with this thing you helped create, but in a mind hive kind of way.

13.How does success affect your practice?

Ideas of success are pretty subjective, no? Speaking in terms of non-commercial success, I would say it helps drives my practice forward. It gives you the incentive and confidence to keep going, to make more, to take risks and think bigger. Sometimes commercial/monetary success can do the opposite because you’re expected to make more of the same, sellable stuff - to keep the formula and not colour outside those lines.

14.How does failure affect your practice?

Failure is an opportunity to learn, and can lead to amazing things. I suck at it. I can be super stubborn and fight with a painting that’s not working for days and days. I’m often my own worst enemy. I’m learning to walk away, to turn the bloody thing facing the wall and only come back to it when I can be more objective - when I’m in a better place to paint over the 100 hours invested and start over.

15.What do you identify as the biggest challenge in your artistic process?

My own stubbornness! My own rules and obsessiveness and need for control. I can get restrained by fear of making something ‘bad,' and I struggle to let myself play more, to let myself ‘fail’. I can get too caught up in my own head. I struggle with a lot of self doubt. A dear friend of mine recently sent me a beautiful quote by Robert Hughes in an attempt to assuage my doubt:

 “The greater the artist, the greater the doubt. Perfect confidence is granted to the less talented as a consolation prize.” 

I’m not so sure this is the case, but it’s nice to hear!

Also, like so many of us, I struggle socially and will hide in my studio rather than go to an art opening when I know I should be trying to make “connections”. Wine helps tremendously in all my struggles.

16.Who are some historical artists you are thinking about?

This fluctuates a great deal. I often find myself interested in artists I thought I didn’t like years ago, and will lose interest in artists I thought I loved. Art crushes come and go. I just bought a Frida Kahlo book and am rediscovering my fascination with her.

17.Who are some contemporary artists you are thinking about?

Everyone and no one in particular. I was in LA last January and saw an amazing Outsider Art show at LACMA. There was a piece by Greer Lankton titled, “Candy Darling” depicting a transgender actress who was featured in several of Andy Warhol’s films and was one of Lankton’s icons she looked up to as a trans woman. It’s exquisite with an edgy sexuality - totally blew my mind. I also saw some Mark Bradford works at The Broad that really surprised me. You have to be in front of them to understand how profound, beautiful, raw and sophisticated they are.

18.How do you describe what you are making now?

Right now I’m bouncing all over the place with various mediums. I’m working on a new series of oils, sort of taking the piss out of patriarchal old fables and the misogynistic way they portrayed women by retelling them through a contemporary lens. I’m also making a series of small, intricate “naughty fairies” made out of Sculpey (imagine tinker bell-like creatures going down on each other), some larger installation pieces that incorporate a variety of materials - video, sound, found and crafted objects, and I just completed my first short narrative video with footage shot on an artist residency I did in Norway last year. 

Sometimes I feel like I’m spreading myself too thin and there’s an invisible pressure to focus on one thing, but I’m a storyteller and I use whatever mediums best suites the tale. I think everything I do remains distinctly me, it all has connective threads. Generally I paint in the morning and move onto video and sculpture in the afternoon/evening. Painting is mentally challenging in a very singular way; it’s super humbling and I need a fresh, rested brain to do it.

19.Who is an artist that you think deserves more attention?

Oh man. Too many to count. Seems to me art world trends often translate into amazing artists not getting their due. I think Canadian artists in general deserve more of the international spot light. There’s so much talent here.

20.How can we find out more about you (relevant links etc)?

I keep my website pretty up to date, including upcoming shows and press links etc.

www.tammysalzl.com