Rehearsal goings ons.
the fatal raft, originally uploaded by LRose17.
I stopped by rehearsal last night for some time with the cast and to catch a glimpse at “The Fatal Raft.”
Check out the shots in the gallery: here.
All I can say is, GET EXCITED.
the fatal raft, originally uploaded by LRose17.
I stopped by rehearsal last night for some time with the cast and to catch a glimpse at “The Fatal Raft.”
Check out the shots in the gallery: here.
All I can say is, GET EXCITED.
Combining two of Japan’s most beloved cultural exports into something that changes how we look at both. I will never view a Godzilla movie the same way again.
A passage from Charlotte Picard Dard’s account of the journey after her life-boat reached land:
A short while after, every one awoke, and again took the route for arriving at Senegal at an early hour. Towards seven in the morning, having fallen a little behind the caravan, I saw several Moors coming towards me armed with lances. A young sailor boy, aged about twelve years, who sometimes walked with me, stopped and cried in great terror, “Ah! my God, lady, see the Moors are coming, and the caravan is already a great way before us; if they should carry us away?” I told him to fear nothing, although I was really more frightened than he was. These Arabs of the Desert soon came up to us. One of them advanced with a threatening air, and stopping my ass, addressed to me, in his barbarous language, some words which he pronounced with menacing gestures. My little ship-boy having made his escape, I began to weep; for the Moor always prevented my ass going forward, who was perhaps as well content at resting a little. However, from the gestures which he made, I supposed he wished to know whither I was going, and I cried as loud as I could, “Ndar! Ndar!” (Senegal! Senegal!) the only African words I then knew. At this the Moor let go the bridle of my ass, and also assisted me by making him feel the full weight of the pole of his lance, and then ran off to his companions, who were roaring and laughing. I was well content at being freed from my fears; and what with the word “ndar,” and the famous thump of his spear, which was doubtless intended for my ass, I soon rejoined the caravan. I told my parents of my adventure, who were ignorant of what had detained me; they reprimanded me as they ought, and I promised faithfully never again to quit them.

According to theater historian Marvin Carlson, in Revolutionary France, certain patriotic plays would proudly stage tableaux vivants of well-known paintings of the French Revolution by Jacques-Louis David. This practice of adapting paintings to the stage, according to Carlson, is one that goes back centuries, even to classical tradition, perhaps. In the twentieth-century, the cinema joined the theater in capturing and dramatizing the medium of painting. A 1921 New York Times with the headline “Movies Based on Paintings” chronicles a discussion between art world types and Hollywood men about a silent picture, The Beggar Maid, based on Edward Burne-Jones’s 1886 painting King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid.
Edwin H. Blashfield, President of the National Academy of Design, expressed relief over the elimination of the “short heads.”
“‘Short heads’–what do you refer to?” asked a professional movie man.
“I believe you call them close-ups,” said Mr. Blashfield. “This painting picture, I am glad to note, has very few close-ups.”
Later, a trustee of MOMA declared optimistically:
“By bringing the famous paintings of the world of art to life…the motion picture will do much for the study of art…. It should mean an increase in the attendance at galleries and art schools, for it will give an enlightened understanding to many thousands whose conception of our greatest paintings has heretofore been limited to inadequate reproductions.”
About twenty years later, however, French film theorist André Bazin would write that “films about paintings… meet with an identical objection from painters and art critics alike.” Theorizing the problem of translating the frame of a painting to the frame of a movie screen, Bazin argues that “not only is the film a betrayal of the painter, it is also a betrayal of the painting and for this reason: the viewer, believing that he is seeing the picture as painted, is actually looking at it through the instrumentality of an art form that profoundly changes its nature.” The frame of a painting, Bazin concludes, is “centripetal” (directed inward), but the cinematic screen is “centrifugal” (directed outward). Bazin’s reproach to filmmakers who base their movies on paintings and their painters, however, has had little effect on the film industry.
And now, a game/SAT prep for the gifted and talented! Match the painting to the work theater or cinema it was inspired by. Move your cursor over the image to see the answer. The winner with the highest score gets a prize.*
1.

a) Gosford Park
b) Sunday in the Park with George
c) Barefoot in the Park
d) Psycho Beach Party
2.

a) Marat/Sade
b) Danton’s Death
c) Danton
d) A Tale of Two Cities
3.

a) Rent Day
b) The Broken Jug
c) The Crucible
d) Vautrin
4.

a) The Piano
b) The Pianist
c) The Piano Lesson
d) The Piano Teacher
5.

a) White Christmas
b) Thomas Kinkade’s The Christmas Cottage
c) Murder at 1600
d) WNEP’s The (edward) Hopper Project
*Did you have fun? Now your prize! A link to the best place on the Internet.
In Gericault’s studio? On the Raft? In the hull of the Medusa? In a Bar in Senegal?
Nope.
“The annals of the marine record no example of a naval disaster so terrible as that of the Medusa frigate…” That’s where we start; the pinnacle of naval incompetence.
Over a year ago, when I had the privilege of being included in the workshop that helped shape the script we currently are rehearsing, this line, and many more like it, was a constant starting point of educated and artistic debates. Who is speaking? Why are they important? Is there enough context? Who is telling the truth? Who is not? Too much history? Not enough? It became more apparent that this wasn’t just the story of a shipwreck; this was story about questions and whether we were responsible to answer those questions…and yes…it is also about a shipwreck. In some respects, this play is another filter in a long line of artistic impressions (Gericault’s painting, Moncrieff’s play, The Pogues album cover) through which to view the source material, and leaving with a thirst for the truth of the event is a fantastic goal, if not a daunting one. Jack (our director) has even used the metaphor of filters to help us understand a world of shifting time and place and memory. As a cast, we’ve had no shortage of questions and I’m certain that we’ll have plenty more, but what is exciting is the sense that every time something is asked, we all learn a little more about what we are trying to accomplish and feel a compulsion to ask more. We are in the infancy of this rehearsal process, but even now there is a synergy building with great momentum and though not every question has an answer yet, we’re coming to understand that a simple story of a shipwreck may always have more questions than answers.

Géricault’s Le Radeau de la Méduse (1819).

The Bruce High Quality Foundation’s Raft of the Medusa.

Joel-Peter Witkin’s The Raft of George W. Bush

Adad Hannah’s The Raft of the Medusa (100 Mile House)

From Albert Uderzo’s Asterix Legionnaire. ["Jericho"=Gericault]

Album cover for Rum, Sodomy, and the Lash by The Pogues.
For more versions of Géricault’s Raft of the Medusa, check out this Dutch(!) website.
Plagiarist Gregory
10:07 am on March 2, 2010
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Several classic paintings (including one very familiar one) filmed here:
http://andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com/the_daily_dish/2010/03/mental-health-break.html
Plagiarist Katie
4:24 pm on March 2, 2010
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That is indeed the best place on the internet! Whatever have I been doing with my days?!
kimbo
3:24 pm on March 10, 2010
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i cant get enough of the BEST PLACE ON THE INTERNET