Spit on me Dickie!

As part of the Fringe, an ensemble, 3epkano, were staging a performance in the IFI entitled 'Cinema of Silence', in which they play live accompaniment to some silent arthouse movies. I already had my ticket for Sunday's performance, but I learnt yesterday that there was a different programme today. Three of the movies were by Maya Deren, including 'Meshes of an Afternoon', the movie I had seen in the Tate. I went along.

 

As can be grasped from my last posting, I place a lot of importance on a film's score, but each of these movies was made to be silent. To put a score on them is to change their effect, emphasising a particular interpretation over others. As such I was wary, but there was no denying the power and entertainment value the score added. Deren's films really came alive, particulary 'Meshes' and 'At Land'. I have seen 'Meshes' several times now so understanding it should be clearer, but it seemed clear as day today. Of course, and I make no apologies, to have a beautiful woman conscious of her beauty showing it off continually certainly adds to my entertainment value. 'Ritual in Transfigured Time' was the lesser of the three Deren films on show, but although each featured some profound silliness, I enjoyed them all.

 

Jean Genet's 'Un Chant D'Amour' completed the programme and for a 1950 production it managed to shock this viewer. Without meaning to sound homophobic in any way, let's just say it makes 'Brokeback Mountain' look as straight as '3:10 to Yuma'. (Hmmmm, on reflection maybe not the best example).

 

There was more Dick in Eason's, where Dickie Rock was signing copies of his new book. At this point he should almost be classed as a national landmark, like the Cliffs of Moher. He certainly looks like the Cliffs of Moher.