12.9.11
7.9.11
filmklubb
One of my first choices here in Tromso was to join the Filmklubb.
Tonight I watched 'Days of Heaven' by Terrence Malick.
It was entirely filmed between the hours of dusk and dawn, lending itself to beautiful expansive sunsets and cold sharp mornings. The score was incredible. Highly recommended.
6.9.11
Arctic Circle
I have just moved to Tromso for my final semester.
I will mainly be looking at cultural and indigenous rights, and trying to focus on my research questions for my dissertation, knitting, secretly reading novels, walking everywhere, joining Tromso filmklubb and learning litt Norsk.
I will be searching the night skies for the aurora borealis and seeing colours like salmon pink and fishscale blue beginnings behind cut out mountains and mirror clear lakes.
This is the only polar bear I have seen thus far. tbc.
29.8.11
not in my country
I saw this piece in the Guardian many a moon ago. But speaking with a friend regarding comparative immigration issues and policy cross-nationally, it reminded me of this Joe Sacco pull out; Not in My country. The short piece details the significant and overwhelming issues that concern immigrants on the small island of Malta. Read it here.
I am currently half way through Sacco's 'Safe Area Gorazde' which has made me cry about 5 times so far. Such a heartbreaking account of the war in Bosnia and a really personal feel of Sacco's intimacy with the both the places and people that he meets. More so here than in other works.
For more of me on Sacco look here. He has two absolute corkers on the Palestinian situation: Palestine and Footnotes to Gaza. Read them. Now.
17.8.11
uk riots
if you didn't see the uk riots this month on the streets; in liverpool, in bristol, london, all over.. then you must have been hiding in hole.
big debate in clapham, my temporary home this year. listen to it.
big debate in clapham, my temporary home this year. listen to it.
4.8.11
my new favourite book
I have always had a gentle fascination for books. I love stories, reading them, hearing them, writing them. But the format of a book. the heavy shape, the dry texture, the musty smell of library books... The way that physical books make me feel is quite something else as to the mystery worlds they hold beneath the covers.
Whilst working at the Tate I found this book, which the staff kindly gave to me as my leaving present. It is full of beautiful art crafted out of books. Gestalten's Book Art.
I know this may seem strange, as my friend gt once told me, it is heresy to hurt a book. And as I do have a profound love for books, then I should not condone the tampering of such special objects. But In this book the pages transform into something else. Just as I love to see letters and words taking different shapes and telling different stories to their usual form, some of the works of art in here are completely stunning. They are not destroyed, but transformed.
Here are a couple of mouth waterers:
Alicia Martin
Richard Wentworth
14.6.11
Light
As If Thighs Were Parentheses
by Saul Williams
What my fame affords me
I will use to spread the light
that is caused by the book
that burns to clean the air
at night.
There are some
that would save
the book and others
that would write.
There are those
who would die
for it and soldiers
who would fight.
I have learned
of this book that burns
that it cannot be helped.
There are words
that will catch aflame
as others tend to melt.
There are phrases
soft turns of speech
that shake flesh to the bone.
There are ways
of our saying things
that shape truth into poems.
Or perhaps
they outline a shape
that is already there
like the face
of my sweet beloved
framed by unruly hair.
And these strands
are just words combined
to comb through with
your eyes.
by Saul Williams
What my fame affords me
I will use to spread the light
that is caused by the book
that burns to clean the air
at night.
There are some
that would save
the book and others
that would write.
There are those
who would die
for it and soldiers
who would fight.
I have learned
of this book that burns
that it cannot be helped.
There are words
that will catch aflame
as others tend to melt.
There are phrases
soft turns of speech
that shake flesh to the bone.
There are ways
of our saying things
that shape truth into poems.
Or perhaps
they outline a shape
that is already there
like the face
of my sweet beloved
framed by unruly hair.
And these strands
are just words combined
to comb through with
your eyes.
They are wigs
over mountaintops
over mountaintops
-the snow
that draws
the eyes.
that draws
the eyes.
They are there
when you see them not.
when you see them not.
What man sees
his own heart?
his own heart?
He is drugged
and then put asleep
before he's cut apart.
and then put asleep
before he's cut apart.
And procedures
like this only done
when arteries are clogged.
like this only done
when arteries are clogged.
Spills and waste
down the mountainside
with forests cut and logged.
down the mountainside
with forests cut and logged.
All the trees
now shaped
into books
and building-
blocks designed
will take shape
from the mountainside-
now shaped
into books
and building-
blocks designed
will take shape
from the mountainside-
the forest of the mind.
And the mind is an active place
where climate will control
means of growth and the greenery
that springs up from the soul.
where climate will control
means of growth and the greenery
that springs up from the soul.
And the soul
it is like the soil
-as i am into u.
it is like the soil
-as i am into u.
What begins
as a seed of thought
now manifests as true.
as a seed of thought
now manifests as true.
It takes time
for a rock to melt
-to decompose a corpse.
for a rock to melt
-to decompose a corpse.
And the soil
is full rich with time
like mountains rich with quartz.
is full rich with time
like mountains rich with quartz.
Full of charge.
Full of energy.
Full of energy.
Full of nutrients and life
sucked from death
which is overturned
and risen to new heights.
sucked from death
which is overturned
and risen to new heights.
Over time
life repeats itself-
the cycle of the wheel.
life repeats itself-
the cycle of the wheel.
And the will
is a driving force
to feed, defend, and kill.
is a driving force
to feed, defend, and kill.
What it kills
takes a different shape
as consciousness transforms.
takes a different shape
as consciousness transforms.
Laws emerge
to defend new life
and thus new crimes are born.
to defend new life
and thus new crimes are born.
And what's born
from a spinning wheel
is willed and welled
into shape.
from a spinning wheel
is willed and welled
into shape.
Forms emerge
from the sculptors hand
nuanced by love and hate.
from the sculptors hand
nuanced by love and hate.
And the hate
is grown out of love
of comfort and control
is grown out of love
of comfort and control
and is shaped by the overgrowth
of fear/hope decomposed.
of fear/hope decomposed.
We compose
with creators hands
the music of the mind.
with creators hands
the music of the mind.
We choose words
like piano keys
to ease thought to chime.
like piano keys
to ease thought to chime.
And we chime upon everything
and every sound we hear.
and every sound we hear.
We diffuse
all times ticking bombs
to distill hope from fear.
all times ticking bombs
to distill hope from fear.
And the hope
that we plant we tend.
We water, trim, and cut.
that we plant we tend.
We water, trim, and cut.
Like the grape
on its path to wine-
we smash beneath our strut.
on its path to wine-
we smash beneath our strut.
And we strike chords with expertise.
We lean into each note.
We give time a new signature.
Small hand on big throat.
We lean into each note.
We give time a new signature.
Small hand on big throat.
All the gun barrels
placed in mouths
all the tongues
fingers
parts
placed in mouths
all the tongues
fingers
parts
can account
for the silent times
where words
play no part.
for the silent times
where words
play no part.
Love is art
of the give and take
the build and break
the bends.
of the give and take
the build and break
the bends.
It is found in
a simple kiss
a simple kiss
the laughing bliss
of friends.
of friends.
And our friends
and our enemies
are much more
than they seem.
and our enemies
are much more
than they seem.
They are tall
booming beams
of light with their own
hopes and dreams.
booming beams
of light with their own
hopes and dreams.
We form teams-
nationalities-
taking sides
with our own.
nationalities-
taking sides
with our own.
We commit
to our fantasies
our prayers
and our poems.
to our fantasies
our prayers
and our poems.
And these poems
how they turn to dust
how they blossom with time.
how they turn to dust
how they blossom with time.
They are like seeds
the farmer plants
with bare hands
in the mind.
the farmer plants
with bare hands
in the mind.
And my mind
feels the brush of wind
takes strangers in
notes signs.
feels the brush of wind
takes strangers in
notes signs.
It is coaxed
by the pretty face
Egyptian lace
the kind.
by the pretty face
Egyptian lace
the kind.
And it broods
in it's silent place.
in it's silent place.
And stirs
when she calls.
when she calls.
And it prays
for a peaceful space.
for a peaceful space.
And answers to Saul.
But it knows
it knows none of it.
it knows none of it.
And it blurs
by the feed.
by the feed.
It prefers
all the gentler things
and cyclically bleeds.
all the gentler things
and cyclically bleeds.
And it bleeds
flowing streams of words
through the silence of night.
flowing streams of words
through the silence of night.
Softest page
of her inner thigh.
of her inner thigh.
She asks
“What would You write?"
“What would You write?"
I would write
of a burning book.
of a burning book.
How each thought stood alone.
How the words had formed families
sheltered from the unknown.
How the words had formed families
sheltered from the unknown.
How the unknown would come again
for the words could not hide
truths and meanings
they held within
for the words could not hide
truths and meanings
they held within
when the pen
took no sides.
took no sides.
And the pen
could be fingertips
softest tongue
against flesh
little toes
against calves
and necks
behind ear
with soft breaths.
could be fingertips
softest tongue
against flesh
little toes
against calves
and necks
behind ear
with soft breaths.
And the writing
became the walls
and proposed new design
became the walls
and proposed new design
until silence took charge again
and disposed
of the mind.
and disposed
of the mind.
How she laughed
when I told her that.
when I told her that.
How she smiled
and she stirred.
and she stirred.
How the room
took a different light.
took a different light.
How the lights
beamed and blurred.
beamed and blurred.
All the lights
of the city gleamed
as if all burned at once.
of the city gleamed
as if all burned at once.
All the thoughts
gently laid to rest-
the bequest of new Suns.
gently laid to rest-
the bequest of new Suns.
And the books
that would hold these thoughts
were the Suns that now burned
in small rooms that were
just like this
where we basked
and took turns.
that would hold these thoughts
were the Suns that now burned
in small rooms that were
just like this
where we basked
and took turns.
And the spotlights
that shine on me
navigate every touch.
that shine on me
navigate every touch.
I am moved
to the darkest space
where small stanzas erupt.
to the darkest space
where small stanzas erupt.
And eruptions
they blind and quake
when too close
to the site.
they blind and quake
when too close
to the site.
As if thighs
were parentheses
holding silence
in light.
were parentheses
holding silence
in light.
28.4.11
information
Over the past few months I have been working part time for an online political campaigning organisation. Through this work I have been impressed with how statisitcs can be tranformed into real life tangible information that can be used and manipulated to evidence certain things. Of course this is not new (see freakonomics, wordle and almost 2 years of writing statistical reports for Barnardo's after leaving university), but recently I have been falling in love with how beautiful this information can look.
And then, when at my paid job, I found this book: information is beautiful
Which hit the nail on the head.
It is full of beautiful diagrams and colourful charts of how information can be translated visually. And then I found a whole host of treats on the blog here. Including lots of things to play with.
This diagram is completely lovely: http://www.rhfoundation.org.uk/
(although perhaps the data not entirely interesting on a personal level)
Consequently I found myself sat on the tube reading a leftover guardian environment supplement which was completely full of lots of lovely numbers and visualisations. for more, try the guardian's datastore here.
I heart information.
17.4.11
tweet
I now 'do' twitter. (@hollynoir)
via twitter I found Charlie Brooker.
via Charlie Brooker I found these Adam Curtis treats.
one of the best human beings to have ever made moving images?
I think so.
via twitter I found Charlie Brooker.
via Charlie Brooker I found these Adam Curtis treats.
one of the best human beings to have ever made moving images?
I think so.
2.4.11
close up
I have just stumbled across this little treat on my friend Gavin's blog.
This tool allows you to focus in on Tahrir square during the protests. but really close up. More close up than I can possibly fathom.
its called a gigapan.
If you zoom in and out quickly enough, it will blow your mind.
This tool allows you to focus in on Tahrir square during the protests. but really close up. More close up than I can possibly fathom.
its called a gigapan.
If you zoom in and out quickly enough, it will blow your mind.
27.3.11
unloved
This weekend, in my tired splendour, I spent an hour and half of my time watching the 2009 directoral debut by Samantha Morton, the unloved. Notoriously recognised as one of the only successful and prominent British actresses not to come from a long line of welathy and fortunate artistic-type family, Morton herself spent her childhood in care. A fact which I believe shines through every single shot of the unloved.
The rhythm of the episode is beautifully calculated. It comprises of many long lingering shots- at times far too beautiful in contrast to the sadness behind Lucy's eyes. Its difficult to romanticise abusive childhoods, or growing up in care, but Morton steps on the edges of combining gorgeous visual melancholy with the suffering sadness of the individuls portrayed.
This programme made me feel desperately hopeless as to what will happen next under the coalition government and their spending cuts for those in the most need. Children like those featured in the unloved will be made invisible. I just hope enough children in care get to watch this programme and recognise that if Morton can succeed within a field that she loves, so can they. If anyone deserves it most, it is those children society always manages to sideline, ignore, or push to the bottom of the pile.
The rhythm of the episode is beautifully calculated. It comprises of many long lingering shots- at times far too beautiful in contrast to the sadness behind Lucy's eyes. Its difficult to romanticise abusive childhoods, or growing up in care, but Morton steps on the edges of combining gorgeous visual melancholy with the suffering sadness of the individuls portrayed.
This programme made me feel desperately hopeless as to what will happen next under the coalition government and their spending cuts for those in the most need. Children like those featured in the unloved will be made invisible. I just hope enough children in care get to watch this programme and recognise that if Morton can succeed within a field that she loves, so can they. If anyone deserves it most, it is those children society always manages to sideline, ignore, or push to the bottom of the pile.
14.3.11
jr
When I was in Palestine in 2009 I saw some of JR's prints on the wall in Bethlehem.
Only now do i really know what it means.
Watch this:
Then go here:
insideout project
Only now do i really know what it means.
Watch this:
Then go here:
insideout project
11.3.11
angels in america
Months have passed and I keep meaning to share this find, which I encountered at a friends when I was living back in the west country.
Angels in America is an epic film compiled from a tv series, adapted from a broadway play. It is searingly beautiful. It is extremely poigniant and it is fantastically acted with amazing vigour and carelessness and sharpness that only true stage artists can evoke - even on film. It is heartbreaking. It is terrifying. It makes you feel entirely helpless and completely powerful at the same time.
It makes you realise how vulnerable our bodies are, and how powerful our will can be.
The props are awful, the graphics very questionable, but it feels like you are watching a play on the screen, with all the gusto and glory of the theatre.
If you find yourself with 6 hours of spare time, I highly highly reccommend you spend it watching this.
Angels in America is an epic film compiled from a tv series, adapted from a broadway play. It is searingly beautiful. It is extremely poigniant and it is fantastically acted with amazing vigour and carelessness and sharpness that only true stage artists can evoke - even on film. It is heartbreaking. It is terrifying. It makes you feel entirely helpless and completely powerful at the same time.
It makes you realise how vulnerable our bodies are, and how powerful our will can be.
The props are awful, the graphics very questionable, but it feels like you are watching a play on the screen, with all the gusto and glory of the theatre.
If you find yourself with 6 hours of spare time, I highly highly reccommend you spend it watching this.
10.3.11
the future of things
Over the past week or so I have become a little bit obsessed with watching short films.
This mainly include those by 'futute shorts' a fab little film production peoples that keep sending me little lush little treats in less than ten minute shaped moving images.
Three of my very favourites are as follows:
1. The art of drowning
Not quite as profound as, nor quite as enchanting as the waking life promises. But very simple and funny and beautifully graphic novel esquely animated.
2. The Ganzfeld procedure
Very adorable video to florence and the machine (I was told never to say adorable because it's apparently kind of offensive. but I really think this is lovely in a non-fluffy kitten kind of way)
3. and a new Earth
This is a little treat. so please watch it if you want to feel nice. by wirrow. lovely.
This mainly include those by 'futute shorts' a fab little film production peoples that keep sending me little lush little treats in less than ten minute shaped moving images.
Three of my very favourites are as follows:
1. The art of drowning
Not quite as profound as, nor quite as enchanting as the waking life promises. But very simple and funny and beautifully graphic novel esquely animated.
2. The Ganzfeld procedure
Very adorable video to florence and the machine (I was told never to say adorable because it's apparently kind of offensive. but I really think this is lovely in a non-fluffy kitten kind of way)
3. and a new Earth
This is a little treat. so please watch it if you want to feel nice. by wirrow. lovely.
5.3.11
more than a billion
I had a fantastic day at 6 Billion ways today.
Full of intelligent, enthusiastic and interested people, I wandered the rooms, looked at the book stands, chatted with the other nice and interested and enthusiastic people, drank my tea and felt quite comfortable amongst my peers and academics and activists with things to say about the complicated world in which we live. I made it to three talks all in all, but tended to scamper off before the q&a's... You may call this childish (due to the lack of concentration skills at 26 years) but I find it almost impossible to sit still for more than an hour without a break, or cup of tea, or a wee.
So I cut short all of the talks i made it to.
Democracy now! Revolt in the Arab world was fascinating on many accounts and my favourite talk of the day. This was mainly due to the impassioned speakers, the description of the Egyptian uprising first hand by Gigi Ibrahim and the presentness of the subject matter (although the history of revolution in Tunisia was really bloody interesting). This talk resonated most profoundly for me as I felt it touched on the transitional reverberations that are rumbling (or being made to rumble by some hard and fast foot stamping) across this small planet.
It was inspiring to see lots of young virile human beings coming together to think and brainstorm and discuss issues of globalisation, human rights, democracy and the future of capitalism (all for free). It felt particularly forward thinking due to the prominent role of activists, activism and the power of the internet for all of these elements. The power of people indeed. If only this discussion could be taken out onto the street into open public spaces where 'ordinary' people have the opportunity to take part and engage... Those 'non-political' people who claim not to give a shit. The time is coming. Politics is seeping out on to the streets. And soon, following the disenchantment and outrage spurned by threats on the forests and NHS, people won't be able to distinguish between being political and giving a shit enough to do something about it.
17.2.11
the girl
She picks up her pen and lets it move. The shapes pour out of her mind, into her body and out in a trickle of ink that twists and turns and twists and turns telling stories of beauty and grace and hope and betrayal. She pauses, bringing the pen to her mouth momentarily, breathing in, letting her lungs refuel and her thoughts collect. The pen touches the paper again with such a force the paper prepares itself to tear.
Yet it holds true, soaking up the black liquid, allowing itself to turn its surface into something new, a tattoo of what is yet to come.
She loses herself.
Has it been an hour? A day? A month? How long has she been sat under this spotlight, hunched over her note book, churning out images that pull at her imagination, forcing themselves to take form. She stops and places the pen beside the paper carefully, as if she was nervous of disturbing the drying pictures, heavy with ink. She always pressed too hard when she drew. It is what gave her drawings such intensity I think.
She lets her hand drop to her lap and fumbles about in her back pocket for her tobacco and papers, still focused intently on the images before her. She breaks her gaze to roll a cigarette and rubbing the paper with her stained fingers, brushing her cheek with her hand, leaving a smudge of her creation on her jaw line. Lifting her lighter for her cigarette she catches sight of her hands, pale in the soft surrounding light on the periphery of her desk lamp. She flexes her fingers and holds her hands out, palms down, for an inspection. Flecks of ink spattered across her skin and dark patches shined where she had pressed down on spilled ink that still remained from the previous days work. Her short nails made her hands her own, feminine, light with their touch, still and passive. Insatiable.
She lowers one hand and finds her cigarette with the other. She leans back and smiles, wiping the loose hair from her face, rubbing her eyes, relaxing her smile and letting her head roll to one side. She closes her eyes and sees the images she had just painted dance in front of her.
Her eyes snap back open and she grins quickly, eyes sparkling as she stubs out her cigarette.
There was work to do.
Yet it holds true, soaking up the black liquid, allowing itself to turn its surface into something new, a tattoo of what is yet to come.
She loses herself.
Has it been an hour? A day? A month? How long has she been sat under this spotlight, hunched over her note book, churning out images that pull at her imagination, forcing themselves to take form. She stops and places the pen beside the paper carefully, as if she was nervous of disturbing the drying pictures, heavy with ink. She always pressed too hard when she drew. It is what gave her drawings such intensity I think.
She lets her hand drop to her lap and fumbles about in her back pocket for her tobacco and papers, still focused intently on the images before her. She breaks her gaze to roll a cigarette and rubbing the paper with her stained fingers, brushing her cheek with her hand, leaving a smudge of her creation on her jaw line. Lifting her lighter for her cigarette she catches sight of her hands, pale in the soft surrounding light on the periphery of her desk lamp. She flexes her fingers and holds her hands out, palms down, for an inspection. Flecks of ink spattered across her skin and dark patches shined where she had pressed down on spilled ink that still remained from the previous days work. Her short nails made her hands her own, feminine, light with their touch, still and passive. Insatiable.
She lowers one hand and finds her cigarette with the other. She leans back and smiles, wiping the loose hair from her face, rubbing her eyes, relaxing her smile and letting her head roll to one side. She closes her eyes and sees the images she had just painted dance in front of her.
Her eyes snap back open and she grins quickly, eyes sparkling as she stubs out her cigarette.
There was work to do.
freakonometry
I have recently finished reading 'Freakonomics' by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner. Which has now also become a documentary film.
It is one of those books I have seen kicking about for a while and I kept thinking that eventually I would get around to picking it up and reading it in a couple of sittings, like Gladwell's the 'Tipping Point' or 'Blink'. And true to my ideas, I found myself in Battersea library with some spare time and a new library card (Which I found painfully exciting... all those free books) and so decided this was the time. A new start at a new university, a new city, a new interest in economics (heightened by our change in government and the stronghold the economy has in determining the realisation of human rights) and so the time had come for this book.
And I have to admit is it extremely interesting- a little bit too neutral at some points, but able to show a side of data collection and analysis which makes me question every statistic that has ever been quoted before me. There are so many barriers and boundaries, so many correlating factors in the universe that attribute to a certain phenomenon, that it is nigh on impossible for a little left-winged student like myself to begin to grasp the ideas encompassed in this book. They did however, make me laugh out loud on the tube, smiling at the very ideas themselves and their blatancy.
It is very USA orientated, and very data heavy (of course) but the two Steve's have a magical way of explaining things without seeming condescending or over complicated, in a natural, lecturer to student kind of dynamic. They ask you to question what you thought you always new, and present you with a new, different way of looking at the links between different things... causality if you will. Which is very relevant in society today. After all, we are spoon fed things to believe in by the ever more conservative main streem media facets every single day. Why not question their angle?
The content you will have to judge for yourself, but the way in which the information is executed is fantastic and readable. The only problem is, I think it has planted a seed of doubt in my already cynical mind as to the nature of data and statistic gathering... so obscure and so dense, I honestly doubt I could see the trees for the woods.
9.2.11
promises promises
A new channel 4 drama was aired this last weekend entitled 'the promise'.
Now, I have seen absolutely massive posters of this show plastered all over the underground, at every station, on every billboard. The picture shows what at first glance appears to be a favella, or bantustan, but is in fact, two villages divided by a wall. And the wall in question is the Israeli Security Fence, or the apartheid wall, depending on which side of the structure you are sat.
The fruition of this programme is very important I feel. And it ties in directly to the process of dehumanization of conflict we see in society today. The documentaries on the Israeli/Palestinian conflict that have called to me the most have been those which encapture the human side of the conflict (eg. encounterpoint) and yet, address the fact there there are two sides, both trapped in a cycle.
The drama highlights the fact that these are real human beings, that live in a shared space, that affect one another completely in all aspects of their lives. And with this, the element of history is tied to the conflict with the role of British (which many forget and know very little about).
I am extremely interested to see how the programme develops. I felt there was a distinct lack of Palestinians in the first episode, yet I feel it has the capacity to show the extent of dehumanization of Palestinians and Palestinian Israelis. But we shall see.
Watch it here.
and read and interview with the director Peter Kosminsky here.
Now, I have seen absolutely massive posters of this show plastered all over the underground, at every station, on every billboard. The picture shows what at first glance appears to be a favella, or bantustan, but is in fact, two villages divided by a wall. And the wall in question is the Israeli Security Fence, or the apartheid wall, depending on which side of the structure you are sat.
The fruition of this programme is very important I feel. And it ties in directly to the process of dehumanization of conflict we see in society today. The documentaries on the Israeli/Palestinian conflict that have called to me the most have been those which encapture the human side of the conflict (eg. encounterpoint) and yet, address the fact there there are two sides, both trapped in a cycle.
The drama highlights the fact that these are real human beings, that live in a shared space, that affect one another completely in all aspects of their lives. And with this, the element of history is tied to the conflict with the role of British (which many forget and know very little about).
I am extremely interested to see how the programme develops. I felt there was a distinct lack of Palestinians in the first episode, yet I feel it has the capacity to show the extent of dehumanization of Palestinians and Palestinian Israelis. But we shall see.
Watch it here.
and read and interview with the director Peter Kosminsky here.
1.2.11
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