Saturday, August 13, 2022

Angela Carter / The Snow Child

Ilustration by Layla Holzer

“The Snow Child” 

 by Angela Carter

Midwinter — invincible, immaculate. The Count and his wife go riding, he on a grey mare and she on a black one, she wrapped in the glittering pelts of black foxes; and she wore high, black, shining boots with scarlet heels, and spurs. Fresh snow fell on snow already fallen; when it ceased, the whole world was white. “I wish I had a girl as white as snow,” says the Count. They ride on. They come to a hole in the snow; this hole is filled with blood. He says: “I wish I had a girl as red as blood.” So they ride on again; here is a raven, perched on a bare bough. “I wish I had a girl as black as that bird’s feathers.”
As soon as he completed her description, there she stood, beside the road, white skin, red mouth, black hair and stark naked; she was the child of his desire and the Countess hated her. The Count lifted her up and sat her in front of him on his saddle but the Countess had only one thought:how shall I be rid of her?
The Countess dropped her glove in the snow and told the girl to get down to look for it; she meant to gallop off and leave her there but the Count said: “I’ll buy you new gloves.” At that, the furs sprang off the Countess’s shoulders and twined round the naked girl. Then the Countess threw her diamond brooch through the ice of a frozen pond: “Dive in and fetch it for me,” she said; she thought the girl would drown. But the Count said: “Is she a fish to swim in such cold weather?” Then her boots leapt off the Countess’s feet and on to the girl’s legs. Now the Countess was bare as a bone and the girl furred and booted; the Count felt sorry for his wife. They came to a bush of roses, all in flower. “Pick me one,” said the Countess to the girl. “I can’t deny you that,” said the Count.
So the girl picks a rose; pricks her finger on the thorn; bleeds; screams; falls.
Weeping, the Count got off his horse, unfastened his breeches and thrust his virile member into the dead girl. The Countess reined in her stamping mare and watched him narrowly; he was soon finished.
Then the girl began to melt. Soon there was nothing left of her but a feather a bird might have dropped; a blood stain, like the trace of a fox’s kill on the snow; and the rose she had pulled off the bush. Now the Countess had all her clothes on again. With her long hand, she stroked her furs. The Count picked up the rose, bowed and handed it to his wife; when she touched it, she dropped it. “It bites!” she said.

Angela Carter / The Werewolf

Ilustration by Alejandra Acosta


by Angela Carter

Angela Carter / El hombre lobo

It is a northern country; they have cold weather, they have cold hearts. Cold; tempest; wild beasts in the forest. It is a hard life. Their houses are built of logs, dark and smoky within. There will be a crude icon of the virgin behind a guttering candle, the leg of a pig hung up to cure, a string of drying mushrooms. A bed, a stool, a table. Harsh, brief, poor lives.To these upland woodsmen, the Devil is as reals as you or I. More so; they have not seen us nor even know that we exist, but the Devil they glimpse often in the graveyards, those bleak and touching townships of the dead where the graves are marked with portraits of the deceased in the naif style and there are no flowers to put in front of them, no flowers grow there, so they put out small votive offerings, little loaves, sometimes a cake that the bears come lumbering from the margins of the forests to snatch away. At midnight, especially on Walpurgisnacht, the Devil holds picnics in the graveyards and invites the witches; then they dig up fresh corpses, and eat them. Anyone will tell you that.Wreaths of garlic on the doors keep out the vampires. A blue-eyed child born feet first on the night of St. John’s Eve will have second sight. When they discover a witch – some old woman whose cheeses ripen when her neighbours’ do not, another old woman whose black cat, oh, sinister! follows her about all the time, they strip the crone, search for her marks, for the supernumerary nipple her familiar sucks. They soon find it. Then they stone her to death.
Winter and cold weather.
Go and visit grandmother, who has been sick. Take her the oatcakes I’ve baked for her on the hearthstone and a little pot of butter.
The good child does as her mother bids – five miles’ trudge through the forest; do not leave the path because of the bears, the wild boar, the starving wolves. Here, take your father’s hunting knife; you know how to use it.
The child had a scabbby coat of sheepskin to keep out the cold, she knew the forest too well to fear it but she must always be on her guard. When she heard that freezing howl of a wolf, she dropped her gifts, seized her knife, and turned on the beast.
It was a huge one, with red eyes and running, grizzled chops; any but a mountaineer’s child would have died of fright at the sight of it. It went for her throat, as wolves do, but she made a great swipe at it with her father’s knife and slashed off its right forepaw.
The wolf let out a gulp, almost a sob, when it saw what had happened to it; wolves are less brave than they seem. It went lolloping off disconsolately between the trees as well as it could on three legs, leaving a trail of blood behind it. The child wiped the blade of her knife clean on her apron, wrapped up the wolf’s paw in the cloth in which her mother had packed the oatcakes and went on towards her grandmother’s house. Soon it came on to snow so thickly that the path and any footsteps, track or spoor that might have been upon it were obscured.
She found her grandmother was so sick she had taken to her bed and fallen into a fretful sleep, moaning and shaking so that the child guessed she had a fever. She felt the forehead, it burned. She shook out the cloth from her basket, to use it to make the old woman a cold compress, and the wolf’s paw fell to the floor.
But it was no longer a wolf’s paw. It was a hand, chopped off at the wrist, a hand toughened with work and freckled with old age. There was a wedding ring on the third finger and a wart in the index finger. By the wart, she knew it for her grandmother’s hand.
She pulled back the sheet but the old woman woke up, at that, and began to struggle, squawking and shrieking like a thing possessed. But the child was strong, and armed with her father’s hunting knife; she managed to hold her grandmother down long enough to see the cause of her fever. There was a bloody stump where her right hand should have been, festering already.
The child crossed herself and cried out so loud the neighbours heard her and come rushing in. They know the wart on the hand at once for a witch’s nipple; they drove the old woman, in her shift as she was, out into the snow with sticks, beating her old carcass as far as the edge of the forest, and pelted her with stones until she fell dead.
Now the child lived in her grandmother’s house; she prospered.

Friday, August 12, 2022

Hirotoshi Ito / “Stone is more than a stone”

Japanese sculptor Hirotoshi Ito: “Stone is more than a stone.”

4 October 2019
in News

Hirotoshi Ito…. Is a Japanese artist who has strayed from the relative fine line between looking and seeing, never loses his unlimited imagination and energy, and transforms natural stones into marvelous statues. Before moving on to Ito’s works, we would like to thank him for answering our questions online.

Hiroshi Ito is famous with his incredible talent in making solid, hard stones look as light and soft materials. Hirotoshi turns these cold and hard materials into clothes, coin purses, breads, smiley faces and other surreal humorous stone sculptures with his magical hands and unlimited imagination.

Hirotoshi Ito Creates Intriguing Stone And Marble Sculptures


Hirotoshi Ito Creates Intriguing Stone And Marble Sculptures 

Hirotoshi Ito, a sculptor based in Japan creates intriguing pieces with the use of stones.

Ito plays around with hard stones by sculpting them to appear like the rock is sewn, tied, or zipped - beginning a body of work that is truly thought-provoking to anyone viewing it. The idea that stone and marble, due to its hard exterior, is impossible to cut through is blatant, making Ito’s work so satisfying. While he has made sculptures of a butter knife cutting through different types of marble, he ties together dozens of other actions into or onto a stone that would seem impossible. Ito notes that he chooses stones out of the Azusa River, and uses them as the base of many of his sculptures. Ito cuts and adds zippers, string, and clasps to the stone, letting it stand in an open position with a variety of items coming out. These items range from seashells, coffee beans, gold pieces, and the most interesting - human teeth.

These stone sculptures showing the human teeth are intriguing and almost disturbing, as the teeth are set in a stationary smile or laugh. These specific creations make Ito’s work stand out amongst other sculptures and come in a variety of shapes and sizes. His creations of the unzipping stones are so intricately created that the mere image of it makes you feel like you could practically hold it and scoop out a spoon of coffee beans or reach in to grab loose change. Hirotoshi Ito continues to build this body of work, as he makes dozens of amazing creations that push the envelope and how we view stone and marble.


Wednesday, August 10, 2022

Ana de Armas' Emotional Portrayal of Marilyn Monroe


“He wanted the world to experience what it actually felt like to not only be Marilyn, but also Norma Jeane,” Ana de Armas previously explained.

Daniel Neira
Miami, June 16, 2022

Ana de Armas looks incredible, channeling old Hollywood glamour and portraying the late star Marilyn Monroe in the upcoming Netflix film ‘Blonde’. The actress can be seen in the new teaser, playing some of the most iconic pop culture moments, including the visuals from the hit song ‘Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend’ and a slow version of the track.

Ana De Armas Transforms Into Marilyn Monroe in the Latest Trailer for Blonde

Ana de Armas Transforms
Into Marilyn Monroe
in the Latest Trailer
for Blonde

July 28, 2022

In the pantheon of ill-fated 20th-century blondes, Marilyn Monroe might be the only character more difficult to portray than Diana, Princess of Wales, so interest in Andrew Dominik’s adaptation of Joyce Carol Oates’s 2000 novel has been enormous from the start. Ahead of its much-delayed 2022 release on Netflix, here’s a summary of every major talking point about the film so far.

Tuesday, August 9, 2022

Popeye / Review by Pauline Kael



Review by Pauline Kael

There are no forebears or influences that would help to explain Shelley Duvall’s acting; she doesn’t seem to owe anything to anyone. She’s an original who has her own limpid way of doing things—a simplicity that isn’t marred by conventional acting technique, but that by now she has adapted to a wide range of characters. In the new Robert Altman film, Popeye, from Jules Feififer’s screenplay, in which she plays Olive Oyl, she sings in a small, wavering voice, and she hits tones that are so flat yet so true that they are transcendently comic. Her dancing has the grave gentleness of the Laurel & Hardy soft-shoe numbers, though she doesn’t move anything like either of them. She’s Olive Oyl of the long neck and stringbean body and the clodhoppers, and at the same time she has a high-fashion beauty. The screwed-tight hair twisted into a cruller at the neck seems just what Olive needs to set off her smooth, rounded forehead. She curls her long legs around each other—entwining them in the rubber-legged positions of the cartoon figure—and it seems the most natural thing for her to do.

Olive lives in Sweethaven, a tumbledown seacoast Dogpatch, and she’s the local belle. When she’s teased about getting engaged to the domineering, wide-as-a-barn Captain Bluto, the most hated and feared man in town, she gets the desperate, trapped expression of a girl who knows that she has made a terrible mistake, and, trying to find a virtue in Bluto (who snorts like a bull and looks as if he’d be more comfortable on all fours), she answers, “He’s large.” And the plaintive defensiveness—the sense of hopelessness—she brings to those words is so pure that you may feel a catch in your throat while you’re smiling. When Popeye, the squinting sailor, searching the seven seas for the pappy who ditched him when he was an infant, arrives at Sweethaven, he moves into the boarding house run by the Oyl family. Olive is very uppity to Popeye and to everyone else; she holds her head high on her tube of a neck and sniffs like a duchess. “Persnickety” is the word for Olive, but there are delicate shades of stubbornness and confusion in her face, and sometimes a frightened look in her eyes. Shelley Duvall takes the funny-page drawing of Olive Oyl and breathes her own spirit in to it. Possibly she can do this so simply because she accepts herself as a cartoon to start with, and, working from that, goes way past it. So far past it that we begin to find chic in her soft, floppy white collars and her droopy, elongated skirts.

Monday, August 8, 2022

Scarface / Review by Pauline Kael

    SCARFACE (1983) 

    Review by Pauline Kael


    by Pauline Kael
    Al Pacino’s Tony Montana is small and mean. The slash of a scar that runs through one eyebrow and down across the cheekbone seems to go right to his soul; there’s something dead in his face—as if ordinary human emotions had rotted away, leaving nothing but greed and a scummy shrewdness. As the central character in the new Scarface, directed by Brian De Palma from a script by Oliver Stone, he scrambles up the rungs of the Miami drug world the way that Paul Muni, as an Italian immigrant, climbed to the top of the Chicago bootlegging business in the 1932 Scarface. Modelled on the career of Al Capone, the 1932 film, like the other prototypical gangster pictures—Little Caesar and The Public Enemy, both of 1931—was set during Prohibition. The basic story fits right into the early eighties: the new Scarface is a Cuban, one of an estimated ten thousand inmates of jails and mental institutions whom Castro, having his little joke, deported to the United States in 1980, when President Carter (briefly) opened the doors to Cuban refugees. Tony Montana boils with resentment because other people have a soft life, and more money than he has. “Me, I want what’s coming to me,” he says—”the world and everything in it.’’ He’s an angry, vindictive killer, and he sees America as the land of opportunity.

    For the first three-quarters of an hour, the film is garish and intense. With Giorgio Moroder’s synthesizer music pulsating and with shots of the arrival of the “Marielitos” (the Cubans who set out from Mariel Harbor), it feels like the beginning of a new-style, post -Godfather gangster epic—hot and raw, like a spaghetti Western. The swaying movements of music and image suggest a developing delirium. In these lushly ominous early sequences, the-American immigration officers spot Tony for what he is, and they put him and his pal Manolo (Steven Bauer) in a detention camp. We see the sadistic murder that the two of them carry out in order to buy their freedom, and then the first drug deal that Tony handles, which turns into a bloody massacre. These two sequences are planned and edited with staccato, brutal efficiency; De Palma seems to be adapting his techniques to naked melodrama, chain saw and all. (The massacre is awesome—a slapstick comedy of horrors which just goes streaking by.) And our first encounters with the other characters raise our expectations. Frank Lopez, the Hispanic-Jewish kingpin of the Miami drug trade, who takes a fancy to Tony, is like any number of movie producers: as played by Robert Loggia, he’s a big, beefy windbag who enjoys being expansive and handing out paternal advice. Frank’s bored girlfriend, Elvira, a Wasp junkie with silken blond hair and a mannequin’s cool, is played by Michelle Pfeiffer, a funny, sexy beauty who slinks across the screen—she’s the Platonic ideal of classy hooker. And Frank’s henchman, Omar, an anxious pockmarked creep who has a big laugh for his boss’s jokes, is played by the whirlwind F. Murray Abraham; he manages to look like a shark here, and every time he appears in a scene, its energy level jumps.

    Sunday, August 7, 2022

    Pauline Kael / I Stil Love Going to Movies

    Pauline Kael



    Pauline Kael is a singular voice in the history of American film criticism. Cineaste interviewed Kael in the summer of 1999, discussing her critical career and early influences, her philosophy of criticism, great American films of the Seventies, her thoughts about retirement, and her provocative views on some recent American movies.

    by Leonard Quart

    Pauline Kael shook up the critical scene with her controversial 1963 Film Quarterly article, “Circles and Squares,” which attacked auteurist critics for their attempts to promote hack Hollywood films as serious works of art. During the mid-Sixties, she freelanced, writing for McCalls’s, The New Republic, Sight and Sound, and Life, among other magazine. From 1968 on she wrote length critical essays and reviews on film for The New Yorker, retiring in 1991. Today, at age eight-one, she lives alone in a handsome, book-filled, large stone-and-shingle house on the heights overlooking Great Barrington, a bustling, gentrified town in the Berkshires. For a number of years she has suffered from Parkinson’s, and can no longer write. Though she is fragile, and age and disease may have slowed her down, her passion for film and her intellectual combativeness, vitality, and independence remain intact.

    Saturday, August 6, 2022

    Carine Roitfeld by Karl Lagerfeld




    Carine Roitfeld / In Her Own Words

    Carine Roitfeld

    Carine Roitfeld 
    in Her Own Words

    May 31, 2019

    It makes total sense that the first product Carine Roitfeld is releasing under her own brand is scents. Fragrances can trigger submerged memories, stir up emotional responses, and rouse desire—which is exactly what characterizes this editor’s work. Roitfeld is this year’s recipient of the CFDA’s Founder’s Award, created in honor of Eleanor Lambert, who put American fashion on the map. Roitfeld, for her part, introduced a boldly sensual aesthetic that defined the 1990s and continues to be influential today. One imagines she would have been Helmut Newton’s dream. Certainly her talents have been highly valued by designers like Tom Ford, Karl Lagerfeld, and Riccardo Tisci.

    Friday, August 5, 2022

    Carine Roitfeld’s Initial Foray


    Carine Roitfeld

    Carine Roitfeld’s Initial Foray

    More than a year after her exit from French Vogue, the editor has a new magazine to call her own.

    APRIL 9, 2012, 12:01AM

    The name of Carine Roitfeld’s new magazine, closely guarded for months, has been in plain sight for a decade.

    “CR,” the handwritten initials that appeared under all her editor’s letters during her 10 years at the helm of French Vogue, will be scrawled across the matte cover of her new biannual, with the first issue slated for September.

    Thursday, August 4, 2022

    Roitfeld’s Return


    Carine Roitfeld by Karl Lagerfeld

    Roitfeld’s Return


    Wednesday, August 3, 2022

    Karl Lagerfeld Asks Carine Roitfeld How Far She Can Take an Image

    Karl Lagerfeld Asks Carine RoitfeldHow Far She Can Take an Image

    Tuesday, August 2, 2022

    Life Lessons from Lindsay Lohan

    Life Lessons from Lindsay Lohan

    Monday, August 1, 2022

    Life Lessons From the Red Hot Chili Peppers

    Life Lessons From the Red Hot Chili Peppers

    In case you missed it, the Red Hot Chili Peppers are going on tour. The band, who also announced in 2019 that they would be reunited with their original guitarist, John Frusciante, will set out on a 32-city world tour in 2022, accompanied by a variety of special guests—with the likes of A$AP Rocky, Thundercat, Anderson .Paak & The Free Nationals, Haim, Beck, The Strokes, King Princess, and St. Vincent among them. So this week’s installment of Life Lessons comes to you from the Chili Peppers’ 1990 Interview cover story, in which the band shares sage wisdom on everything from having sex to playing pool. Sit back, and grab a pen—you just might learn a thing or two.

    Sunday, July 31, 2022

    Life Lessons from Vivienne Westwood

    Vivienne Westwood

    Life Lessons from Vivienne Westwood

    Welcome to Life Lessons. This week, in celebration of Women’s History Month, we’re revisiting Vivienne Westwood’s 2012 Interview feature. In it, the punk icon talks to Tim Blanks, the former Editor-at-Large of the now-defunct iconic fashion hub (and current Editor-at-Large of Business of Fashion). In their conversation, the then 71-year-old Dame of the British Empire gets candid with Blanks about her punk roots, her ever-evolving style, and aging with style. So sit back, grab a pen—you just might learn a thing or two.

    Saturday, July 30, 2022

    Alain Elkann interviews Vivienne Westwood


    Vivienne Westwood
    by Alain Elkann

    Fashion designer Vivienne Westwood: “People have never been so poorly dressed.”
    Vivienne Westwood, what state is the fashion industry in?
    “I make avant-garde things, but I hear from people that there is a crisis, and that it is quite serious. I don’t know how long it will last though. But then there are still many who can spend a lot for clothing. The message I would like to send is to buy less but choose well. And this is how my collection is. I say to create small scarves, use safety pins and old fabrics. If you spend a lot on one thing and you choose well, this is the right way to do it.”

    Friday, July 29, 2022

    Shaheen Baig / The mastermind casting director behind Peaky Blinders

    Shaheen Baig

    The mastermind castingdirector behind Peaky Blinders

    If you are a fan of contemporary British film and television—not the lace and pomp PBS period pieces, but those gritty, award-dominating independent dramas—you’re almost definitely a fan of Shaheen Baig. Originally from Birmingham, smack dab in the middle of England, Baig is the casting director behind all four seasons of Peaky Blinders and films like Control (2007), Lady Macbeth (2016), and God’s Own Country (2017).