Lately I’ve been smelling flowers where no flowers can be seen. It’s like being in The Course of the Heart.
Imagine someone pays for you to go to the Antarctic and make a documentary. Dramatic, beautiful vistas, as pure as the mathematics of air flow and crystallization, which your viewers won’t have seen for themselves. Extraordinary cold. Cliffs of ice. Danger. Explorers enduring unimaginable hardship in the name of science. Penguins. What a nightmare. Where could you possibly start? How could you avoid all the above clichés without ignoring everything that is recognizably Antarctic?
By force of character. That, at least, seems to be Werner Herzog‘s method, Continue reading Where you fall to if you’re not tied down
Question: No more likenesses of reality, no idealistic images, nothing but a desert! What might it say about art to equate art with the desert? Continue reading Art and deserts