This evening, after a long break to rest, sorrow and reflection, I decided to go back to writing.
Who is the Universe?
If mankind, if mankind were to disappear
The Universe would be useless
Us ... We want to imitate God
So there are artists.
The artists would like to recreate the world,
as if they were smaller.
and make a series of ... They have a continuous
rethink ...
on the history, life on everything that happens here,
or what they believe happened.
is because in the end we believe in the memory. Why
it is all over, and who ensures that everything we imagine is the past, the past really is? Who should we ask?
This world, this assumption then it is an illusion.
The only real thing is memory. But memory is an invention ...
After all, the memory, I mean in the cinema ... cinema in the camera may set a time but that moment has already passed.
Basically what makes the film is to revive the ghost of that time, and we are certain that existed at that time out of the film? Or the film is the guarantee of the existence of that moment? In short we live in a permanent doubt ...
Director Fridrich, protagonist ghost of Lisbon Story, whose name is a tribute to the real director, Wim Wenders, Federico Fellini, world-weary of the images sold off, tired of the leadership of directors, composers, architects, sold out to special effects of the god of money, try back to basics and decided to return to cinema's beginnings to the classic. On that
an emotional vortex in which everything loses sense and understands that when immortalized, or decide to capture a scene, the scene suddenly becomes, in fact, false, or at least sold out and sold as commercial.
After trying to shoot a real movie, with an old crank chamber, a tribute to early cinema, new greek architect, or Roman, also decided to leave that road, because once again attacked and the result of a conscious process that forced then producer of unreal images. "The images are no longer those of the past, you can not trust them [...]. While we were growing up images storyteller, and bearers of things. Now I'm all for sale, with their stories and their things. They do not know how to show more. Images are sold beyond the world, with big discounts ... "Says the director. Then re-started after a hundred years, but "did not work. For a while it seemed possible, but then it all fell apart ... '.
So he began to drive around the city Room with a shoulder that bears hanging on his back, taking up what is going on behind him without filters: mountains and virgin film real, well that is until no one will see, and when that will be seen to lose their meaning and their purity.
is the death of cinema, death is the architecture and composition. It is the question of the director, the architect, the composer, is the question of the artist in front of the market: what to do? Definitely sell out or go back to the beginning, the classics? But can we really go back to the beginning, maybe pretending nothing has happened so far?
And here comes the paradox: it is a technical to deliver the solution to the composer. Just one technique that has brought the artist to move away permanently from the natural course of history, rejecting the fruits of technology, making him the desire to come back to antiquity, the solution delivery director:
"This is a message for Fridrich, the king of the junk store images ... [In the background appears a sign advertising "principle, or a happy ending ..." genius found Wenders]. Fritz Ohhh, I think you're a bit 'LOST! All these pictures toy I guess you did a little insane. You are now in a dead end, facing the wall, but ... move your eyes, trust them, they do not have mica back ... Continue to trust your old crank, it is still capable of moving pictures, then why waste your life in pictures superfluous junk, putting your heart when you can make superb pictures on celluloid. Moving images can still do what they were invented a century ago. There may still be moving ... '.
us trust our hearts, and we try to do with the heart of the architecture.
Ben back, and welcome back ... myself
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