It is after midnight and I'm still doing e-mail. Some intro notes to France, which feel akin to sending query letters to Universities, most to friends trying to catch up. The gorgeous weather made it hard to stay in all day. I did succumb and had tea in a friend's backyard--full of roses which were adoring the sun and a new puppy, Maude. Revived by tea I trekked from Kentish Town to Maida Vale -- where decent public transport does not exist -- that's why God made mini-cabs in London.
Cooked dinner and headed home where I did -- email. There is something wrong with that, but at least friends who are calling my US cell phone and getting a disconnect recording are learning that I've turned it off during this trip. Verizon has sucked enough blood and life from me already. Don't we all feel that way about the phone company?
Off to bed where I will not think of mobile phones or emails. I need to practice how to say wireless modem in French...yikes.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Cello in Motion
All right, between jet lag and heading to Maida Vale to see friends I did not practice French today, but I thought about practicing, does that count?
Tonight I saw the cellist, Matthew Barley perform the first motion-capture "Live" performance at Kings Place. Barley came onto the stage in the beautifully designed performance hall dressed in the motion capture black lycra suit and silver sensors -- sorry no pictures as cameras were not allowed. But to see this world class cellist in cat burglar gear was a bit jarring (especially the black "knit" cap.) But this link has some of the footage: http://www.plushmusic.tv/channels/DH0/matthew-barley---xtreme-cello
Then the screen behind him came alive and we were treated to motion capture and the music. While most of the imagery was not equal to his amazing music, I did wonder what might come of this marriage of music, technology live performance and a great visual stylist, say a Terry Gilliam or some brainiac from PIXAR. We all felt, my friends and I that this was a form in its infancy but now the Genie was out of the bottle. Some day, the visuals will catch up with the music. But tonight, it was just perfect to let Barley be the star of the concert.
Another stunning day in London, by the way. Hyde Park, Oxford Street and that "lovely" London Tube (not) were jammed. So it was a day to walk and make hay while the sun shines.
J
Tonight I saw the cellist, Matthew Barley perform the first motion-capture "Live" performance at Kings Place. Barley came onto the stage in the beautifully designed performance hall dressed in the motion capture black lycra suit and silver sensors -- sorry no pictures as cameras were not allowed. But to see this world class cellist in cat burglar gear was a bit jarring (especially the black "knit" cap.) But this link has some of the footage: http://www.plushmusic.tv/channels/DH0/matthew-barley---xtreme-cello
Then the screen behind him came alive and we were treated to motion capture and the music. While most of the imagery was not equal to his amazing music, I did wonder what might come of this marriage of music, technology live performance and a great visual stylist, say a Terry Gilliam or some brainiac from PIXAR. We all felt, my friends and I that this was a form in its infancy but now the Genie was out of the bottle. Some day, the visuals will catch up with the music. But tonight, it was just perfect to let Barley be the star of the concert.
Another stunning day in London, by the way. Hyde Park, Oxford Street and that "lovely" London Tube (not) were jammed. So it was a day to walk and make hay while the sun shines.
J
Friday, September 25, 2009
If it's sunny can it be London?
I flew into London yesterday and it was -- SUNNY! And today it was, SUNNY. Something I don't think I have witnessed in all my trips over, two absolutely beautiful sun filled days that could have been sent over from Santa Monica. To walk through London on a sunny, but balmy day is such a treat. You could walk forever. People were smiling, Hyde Park was full of men, women and children relishing the glorious Indian summer. An ice cream truck ambled down Hadley Road in North London and children went out in droves to buy popsicles.
There is so much to see as you go from block to block. In Kentish Town, where I'm in residence with my friends, Luke and Alex -- in a truly beatiful town house (a renovated grocer's) I pass the Bengal Tiger, a curry house with divine green curry chicken, a vast array of chutneys, vegetarian dishes that would make any carnivore forsake meat, and next the that is an Ehtiopian spot, two doors down a Turkish sandwich shop, a Mediterranean Food Hall, two great charity shops and the usual smattering of Tesco's, Superdrugs and Somerfield's. And every nationality seems to buzz about in this multi-ethnic neighborhood -- and the thing they have in common -- getting around in one of the most truly cramped cities on the face of this earth. Five days to France and I'm still bungling about with French -- it didn't help that I left my i-Pod, loaded with Michel Thomas CD's at home in L.A. Don't ask. Or that I've been so busy getting packed and unpacked -- also don't ask, that the days before leaving were a blur of Fed-Ex Labels, correspondence, laundry and errands to get everything in the U.S. -- if you've seen the exchange rates of the Euro and Pound, you'll understand. It is hard to pay 15L for a bottle of shampoo that costs $15 in the U.S. and realized you've just paid $28.00 for the same bottle of shampoo.
Despite all the last minute bits and pieces, I made LAX with time to spare. Where, of course the sneakers I wore set off the xray technicians screen (seems Nike put batteries in the sole of this model) and they took my shoes away to test for explosives. Oh for the days when you just sauntered to the gate and waited for your plane. Needless to say, said offending shoes were not lethal weapons and I was allowed to proceed.
After that I needed a drink.
But right now, I need some sleep so I can practice counting from one to ten in French without having a meltdown.
More sun predicted for tomorrow.
There is so much to see as you go from block to block. In Kentish Town, where I'm in residence with my friends, Luke and Alex -- in a truly beatiful town house (a renovated grocer's) I pass the Bengal Tiger, a curry house with divine green curry chicken, a vast array of chutneys, vegetarian dishes that would make any carnivore forsake meat, and next the that is an Ehtiopian spot, two doors down a Turkish sandwich shop, a Mediterranean Food Hall, two great charity shops and the usual smattering of Tesco's, Superdrugs and Somerfield's. And every nationality seems to buzz about in this multi-ethnic neighborhood -- and the thing they have in common -- getting around in one of the most truly cramped cities on the face of this earth. Five days to France and I'm still bungling about with French -- it didn't help that I left my i-Pod, loaded with Michel Thomas CD's at home in L.A. Don't ask. Or that I've been so busy getting packed and unpacked -- also don't ask, that the days before leaving were a blur of Fed-Ex Labels, correspondence, laundry and errands to get everything in the U.S. -- if you've seen the exchange rates of the Euro and Pound, you'll understand. It is hard to pay 15L for a bottle of shampoo that costs $15 in the U.S. and realized you've just paid $28.00 for the same bottle of shampoo.
Despite all the last minute bits and pieces, I made LAX with time to spare. Where, of course the sneakers I wore set off the xray technicians screen (seems Nike put batteries in the sole of this model) and they took my shoes away to test for explosives. Oh for the days when you just sauntered to the gate and waited for your plane. Needless to say, said offending shoes were not lethal weapons and I was allowed to proceed.
After that I needed a drink.
But right now, I need some sleep so I can practice counting from one to ten in French without having a meltdown.
More sun predicted for tomorrow.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Can anyone say "J'regret?"
That will probably be my most used French phrase. Not being fluent in French, I find myself agonizing over the small bits -- you know -- and, but, Can't, can, what, who, etc. I know the words, but I'm at the stage of brain freeze -- like when you see someone you just had a meeting with three days ago -- except now you're outside a restaurant, or a movie theatre and they say "Hi___________your name here________" and you have that three second pause where you pray to God someone else knows the person and speaks up before you physically have to yank your tongue from the roof of your mouth and say -- the wrong name. So that is where I am at, tonight. Now, of course, I am fairly certain that one, if not all, of the other three writers are fairly fluent -- one has some type of abode in Paris -- so I am guaranteed to be at the mumbling and nodding end of the communication spectrum. Can anyone say "J suis humilié." But I will bravely and with "d'énergie" -- stick my foot in my mouth from dawn 'til dusk...and somehow be a better woman for it. Bon Nuit.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Autumn Stories - Parlez Vous Français?
The woman on the phone was from the Writer's Guild of America, west, independent film committee; Kay Shaber Wolf. She asked the woman on the other end of the phone, groggy, up since 6 am screenwriter-producer, J, how she was...J repsonded, "I'm fine, and how are you?" "I'm good," replied said head of the international committee of the wga, w..."How would you like to go to France." Those words are still ringing in my ears. "How would you like to go to France?"""""""""Really...?" Is how I replied. "Yes," she responded, "they selected your film."
It is really shocking to "win" something...anything...the $25.00 coupon at the local Co-Op for groceries...with organic milk over $4 a half-gallon, that ain't chump, change -- however, seven weeks paid residency in France, living in a restored Abbey, going on a private tour of the Louvre, meeting the who's who of French cinema??????? Quel surprise! How does a local girl from South Central LA find herself being selected to travel to Paris -- yes the one in France -- with august, award winning fellow screenwriter/directors? Tune in to find out....
It is really shocking to "win" something...anything...the $25.00 coupon at the local Co-Op for groceries...with organic milk over $4 a half-gallon, that ain't chump, change -- however, seven weeks paid residency in France, living in a restored Abbey, going on a private tour of the Louvre, meeting the who's who of French cinema??????? Quel surprise! How does a local girl from South Central LA find herself being selected to travel to Paris -- yes the one in France -- with august, award winning fellow screenwriter/directors? Tune in to find out....
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