David Bowie’s Final Gig as Ziggy Stardust Documented in 1973 Concert Film

We’ve pre­vi­ous­ly brought you the ori­gin sto­ry of Zig­gy Star­dust, David Bowie’s first and most flam­boy­ant rock & roll char­ac­ter, as well as his lat­er rec­ol­lec­tions of those times in a 1977 inter­view on Cana­di­an tele­vi­sion. Above, see the doc­u­men­tary that marked the end of that piv­otal era, D.A. Pennebaker’s Zig­gy Star­dust and the Spi­ders from Mars, a con­cert film of Bowie’s last show as the glam rock kabu­ki space alien. (Part 1 can be found above, remain­ing parts reside here.) Bowie had grown tired of the char­ac­ter, feel­ing forced by his man­ag­er Tony DeFries to put on big­ger, more elab­o­rate stage shows (though there is spec­u­la­tion that record com­pa­ny RCA refused to finance planned US and Cana­di­an sta­di­um shows). In a lat­er rec­ol­lec­tion, Bowie stat­ed he was ready to move on:

I want­ed the whole Main­Man thing away from me. It was cir­cusy. I was nev­er much of an entourage per­son — I hat­ed all of that. It’s a relief for all these years … not have a con­stant stream of peo­ple fol­low­ing me around to the point where, when I sat down, fif­teen oth­er peo­ple sat down. It was unbear­able. I think Tony [DeFries] saw him­self as a Sven­gali type, but I think I would have done okay any­way. Now, I look back on it with amuse­ment more than any­thing else.

Along with broth­ers Albert and David Maysles, who made Gimme Shel­ter, Pen­nebak­er had an uncan­ny knack for being in the right place at exact­ly the right time in music his­to­ry. His Dont Look Back defined Bob Dylan for a gen­er­a­tion and launched the much-imi­tat­ed pro­to-music video with cue cards for “Sub­ter­ranean Home­sick Blues.”

The epony­mous Mon­terey Pop doc­u­ment­ed the explo­sive 1967 fes­ti­val that “crystallize[d] the ener­gy of a coun­ter­cul­ture that by then seemed both bless­ed­ly inevitable and dan­ger­ous­ly embat­tled,” accord­ing to Robert Christ­gau. In 1973, Pen­nebak­er found him­self again posi­tioned per­fect­ly to doc­u­ment a piv­otal moment—the end of Bowie’s Zig­gy Star­dust per­sona at London’s Ham­mer­smith Odeon in what became known as “The Retire­ment Gig.”

Pen­nebak­er, who’d only just signed on dur­ing the final Lon­don leg of the tour to make a full-length film and who knew lit­tle of Bowie’s music, was as sur­prised as any­one when Bowie announced Ziggy’s retire­ment by say­ing “this show will stay the longest in our mem­o­ries, not just because it is the end of the tour but because it is the last show we’ll ever do.” No one knew at the time that Bowie would return, trans­formed into Aladdin Sane in an album of the same name that year (with the same band—watch them do a ver­sion of Lou Reed’s “White Light/White Heat” above at 1:18:10, a track record­ed for, but cut from, 1973 cov­ers album Pin Ups). The farewell con­cert opened with a med­ley of Bowie songs on solo piano per­formed by Mike Gar­son, who called the show “phe­nom­e­nal” (hear Garson’s med­ley above, begin­ning at 2:30, after the intro­duc­tion).

The retire­ment gig was the 60th of 40 tour dates on the third Zig­gy UK tour and was, in fact, a replace­ment for a can­celled gig at Earl’s Court. Find a full list of the set here. Bowie and the Spi­ders were joined onstage by Jeff Beck for two songs before Bowie’s farewell speech, but Beck lat­er had him­self cut from Pennebaker’s film, unhap­py with his solos, and per­haps his wardrobe. Though Beck was Bowie gui­tarist Mick Ronson’s hero, Ron­son remem­bers being too dis­tract­ed to be over­whelmed: “I was too busy look­ing at his flares. Even by our stan­dards, those trousers were exces­sive!” See grainy boot­leg footage from the show of Beck and his trousers in “Jean Genie,” and a snip­pet of “Love Me Do” (above), and Chuck Berry’s “Round and Round” (below).

via Net­work Awe­some

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Sto­ry of Zig­gy Star­dust: How David Bowie Cre­at­ed the Char­ac­ter that Made Him Famous

David Bowie Recalls the Strange Expe­ri­ence of Invent­ing the Char­ac­ter Zig­gy Star­dust (1977)

Lego Video Shows How David Bowie Almost Became “Cob­bler Bob,” Not “Aladdin Sane”

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Federico Fellini, Born 94 Years Ago Today, Writes a Gushing Letter to Legendary Cartoonist, Moebius

FelliniGiraud

If you believe that artis­tic col­lab­o­ra­tions occur in the after­life, few could sound more intrigu­ing than one between the cre­ators pic­tured, in life, above: Fed­eri­co Felli­ni, born 94 years ago today and gone for the past twen­ty, and Jean Giraud, who passed in 2012. The Ital­ian direc­tor Felli­ni, we need hard­ly explain, made such haunt­ing­ly flam­boy­ant films as La Dolce Vita8½, and Satyri­con. The Fran­co-Bel­gian com­ic artist Giraud, bet­ter known as MĹ“bius, took his form to its high­est aes­thet­ic lev­el with works like Arzach, The Air­tight Garage of Jer­ry Cor­nelius, The Incal, and, under his alter­nate pseu­do­nym Gir, the uncon­ven­tion­al Wild-West series Blue­ber­ry. (You can learn more by watch­ing the doc­u­men­tary In Search of MĹ“bius, pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured here.) Reflect, for a moment, on what bizarre, fan­tas­ti­cal, yet psy­cho­log­i­cal­ly con­crete visions these two imag­i­na­tions could togeth­er real­ize.

MoebiusFellini
Click for larg­er image

Felli­ni quite admired Giraud, con­sid­er­ing him at the lev­el of Picas­so and Matisse. On Ital­ian tele­vi­sion, he once called him “a unique tal­ent endowed with an extra­or­di­nary vision­ary imag­i­na­tion that’s con­stant­ly renewed and nev­er vul­gar” who “dis­turbs and con­soles” and pos­sess­es “the abil­i­ty to trans­port us into unknown worlds where we encounter unset­tling char­ac­ters.” The 1979 let­ter above, which Felli­ni wrote while shoot­ing City of Women, con­tin­ues this line of praise in a direct man­ner. “Every­thing you do pleas­es me,” he says. “Even your name pleas­es me.” He describes the qual­i­ties of MĹ“bius’ work that con­tin­ue to win him admir­ers, from “the joy and enthu­si­asm your draw­ings exude” (which “demand of me a great pre­ci­sion”) to “the light­ing tech­nique you use” to feel­ing “sus­pend­ed weight­less­ly in one of your oblique uni­vers­es.” But above all the oth­er lines, one aside in par­tic­u­lar gets my own imag­i­na­tion run­ning: â€śWhat a great film direc­tor you would make! Have you ever thought about it?”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Inscrutable Imag­i­na­tion of the Late Com­ic Artist Mœbius

Fed­eri­co Felli­ni Intro­duces Him­self to Amer­i­ca in Exper­i­men­tal 1969 Doc­u­men­tary

Fellini’s Fan­tas­tic TV Com­mer­cials

Felli­ni + Abrams = Super 8½

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, Asia, film, lit­er­a­ture, and aes­thet­ics. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on his brand new Face­book page.

Quentin Tarantino Lists His Favorite Records: Bob Dylan, Freda Payne, Phil Ochs and More

Quentin Taran­ti­no cares about music, as you can tell from watch­ing any of his films, from his max­i­mal­ly dis­com­fit­ing use of Steal­ers Wheel’s “Stuck in the Mid­dle with You” in Reser­voir Dogs on out. A Tele­graph arti­cle on that song’s writer Ger­ry Raf­fer­ty describes it as “writ­ten as a par­o­dy of Bob Dylan’s para­noia,” “lit­tle more than a joke but with a catchy pop arrange­ment” that unex­pect­ed­ly sold more than a mil­lion copies. If Taran­ti­no has a fas­ci­na­tion with Dylan par­o­dies, then he has an even deep­er fas­ci­na­tion with the real thing, as revealed in a post on his ten favorite records from Uncut’s Michael Bon­ner. He pulled Taran­ti­no’s selec­tions and com­ments from an inter­view he con­duct­ed with the direc­tor back around the time of Pulp Fic­tion. Above, you can watch Dylan play “Tan­gled Up in Blue,” which Taran­ti­no calls his “all-time favorite song,” “one of those songs where the lyrics are ambigu­ous you can actu­al­ly write the song your­self.” (Hear the orig­i­nal record­ing here.)

Just above, we have Fre­da Payne per­form­ing “Band of Gold,” anoth­er of Taran­ti­no’s choice cuts, on Soul Train in 1970. “This is just so cool,” he says. “It’s a com­bi­na­tion of the way it’s pro­duced, the cool pop/R&B sound, and Freda’s voice. Its kin­da kitschy in a way – y’know, it’s got a real­ly up-tem­po tune – and, the first few times I heard it, I was, like, total­ly into the cool­ness of the song. It was only on the third or fourth lis­ten I realised the lyrics were so fuck­ing heart­break­ing.” Below you’ll find a cut from Phil Ochs’ I Ain’t March­ing Any­more, which Taran­ti­no calls “one of my favorite protest/folk albums. While Dylan was a poet Ochs was a musi­cal jour­nal­ist: he was a chron­i­cler of his time, filled with humor and com­pas­sion. He’d write songs which would seem very black and white, and then, in the last verse, he’d say some­thing which, like, com­plete­ly shat­tered you.” This par­tic­u­lar song, “Here’s To The State of Mis­sis­sip­pi,” he con­sid­ers “every­thing the movie Mis­sis­sip­pi Burn­ing should have been.”

In Bon­ner’s Uncut post, you can read Taran­ti­no’s fur­ther thoughts on Bob Dylan, his dec­la­ra­tion of Elvis’ finest era, and his film scores of choice. And speak­ing of things cin­e­mat­ic, see also our lists of Taran­ti­no’s favorite films since 1992, his ten favorite films of last year, and what he deems the twelve great­est films of all time.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Quentin Taran­ti­no Imper­son­ates His Idol, Elvis Pres­ley

Jim Jar­musch: The Art of the Music in His Films

The Rolling Stones at 50: Mick, Kei­th, Char­lie & Ron­nie Revis­it Their Favorite Songs

Mick Jones Plays Three Favorite Songs by The Clash at the Library

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, Asia, film, lit­er­a­ture, and aes­thet­ics. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on his brand new Face­book page.

Quentin Tarantino Impersonates His Idol, Elvis Presley

Quentin Taran­ti­no once told an inter­view­er (Howard Stern, if you must know) about the Elvis phase he went through dur­ing his late teenage years. “When I was about eigh­teen-years-old, I got waaaay into rock­a­bil­ly music.” “I was like the sec­ond com­ing of Elvis Pres­ley. I dyed my hair black. I wore it in a big ole pom­padour.” And he put Elvis imper­son­ation on his resume. In 1988, just a year after he shot his first film, My Best Friend’s Birth­day (watch the sur­viv­ing parts here), the still-unknown auteur land­ed a cameo appear­ance on an episode of The Gold­en Girls. He described the appear­ance in a 1994 inter­view with Play­boy:

Well, it was kind of a high point because it was one of the few times that I actu­al­ly got hired for a job. I was one of 12 Elvis imper­son­ators, real­ly just a glo­ri­fied extra. For some rea­son they had us sing Don Ho’s Hawai­ian Love Chant. All the oth­er Elvis imper­son­ators wore Vegas-style jump­suits. But I wore my own clothes,because I was, like, the Sun Records Elvis. I was the hill­bil­ly cat Elvis. I was the real Elvis; every­one else was Elvis after he sold out.

Taran­ti­no appears in the back row, dead cen­ter.

tarantino as elvis
via Mira­max

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Quentin Taran­ti­no Lists the 12 Great­est Films of All Time: From Taxi Dri­ver to The Bad News Bears

Quentin Taran­ti­no Tells You About The Actors & Direc­tors Who Pro­vid­ed the Inspi­ra­tion for “Reser­voir Dogs”

The Pow­er of Food in Quentin Tarantino’s Films

625 Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, etc.

 

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Patti Smith Documentary Dream of Life Beautifully Captures the Author’s Life and Long Career (2008)

My wife jokes that I’m pre­ten­tious for my love of what she calls “tiny awards” on the cov­ers of movies—little lau­rel leaf-bound seals of fresh­ness from the art film fes­ti­val cir­cuit. It’s true, I near­ly always bite when unknown films come to me preap­proved. Were I to encounter the cov­er of the 2008 Pat­ti Smith doc­u­men­tary Dream of Life I should be forced to watch it even if were I total­ly igno­rant of Pat­ti Smith. It won sev­er­al tiny awards—including a Sun­dance Prize for best cin­e­matog­ra­phy, a well-deserved hon­or that shows direc­tor Steven Sebring’s high regard for his sub­ject. Any worth­while film about Smith—singer, writer, poet, artist—must priv­i­lege the visu­al as well as the musi­cal and lit­er­ary. Smith’s world has always been one of high con­trast and dan­ger­ous pre­science, like the work of her child­hood friend, pho­tog­ra­ph­er Robert Map­plethor­pe, with whom she moved to the Chelsea Hotel in 1969 and who took the icon­ic pho­to on the cov­er of her first album, Hors­es. Her and Mapplethorpe’s sto­ried part­ner­ship helped both take New York City by storm. As a young Smith says above, “New York is the thing that seduced me; New York is the thing that formed me; New York is the thing that deformed me.”

Born in Chicago—“mainline of Amer­i­ca” she calls it—Smith’s fam­i­ly moved across the Mid­west to rur­al New Jer­sey. Her work also bespeaks of an expe­ri­ence of East­ern Migra­tion, with nos­tal­gic traces of long­ing for open spaces. The film opens with a gal­lop­ing herd of hors­es, nod­ding to Smith’s 1975 debut, a blast of punk poet­ry that still sounds men­ac­ing and raw. But the documentary’s title comes from a 1988 record that marked a sort of cesura for Smith, as one peri­od of her life end­ed and anoth­er wait­ed to begin. Pro­duced by her hus­band, Fred “Son­ic” Smith (for­mer­ly of the MC5), whom she met in 1976, it’s an album of “pol­ished love songs, lul­la­bies, and polit­i­cal state­ments” and it’s a very grown-up record, the some­times adult con­tem­po­rary sound saved from bland­ness by Smith’s com­pelling lyri­cism and beau­ti­ful voice.

Fred “Son­ic” Smith fell ill not long after the album, and Pat­ti retired, more or less, from music. She returned to per­form­ing and record­ing after her husband’s death in 1994, after the loss also of her broth­er and Map­plethor­pe. Always an intense­ly emo­tion­al writer and per­former, her lat­er peri­od is marked by memo­ri­als and med­i­ta­tions on loss—not unusu­al for an old­er poet and long­time sur­vivor of rock and roll, as well as the lit­er­ary and art worlds. All of Smith’s many changes occur before us above as she remem­bers and reflects in her poet’s voice over that Sun­dance-win­ning cin­e­matog­ra­phy. It’s hard to imag­ine anoth­er document—save her Nation­al Book Award-win­ning mem­oir Just Kids—doing more jus­tice to Smith’s vision than Dream of Life.

This comes to us via BrainPicking’s Maria Popo­va, who points us toward a cof­fee-table book of pho­tographs from the film. The select­ed few she fea­tures are stun­ning indeed.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Pat­ti Smith Reads Her Final Words to Her Dear Friend Robert Map­plethor­pe

1976 Film Blank Gen­er­a­tion Doc­u­ments CBGB Scene with Pat­ti Smith, The Ramones, Talk­ing Heads, Blondie & More

Four Female Punk Bands That Changed Women’s Role in Rock

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Memory of the Camps (1985): The Holocaust Documentary that Traumatized Alfred Hitchcock, and Remained Unseen for 40 Years

You may have heard the news that the world will soon see “Alfred Hitch­cock­’s unseen Holo­caust doc­u­men­tary.” That intrigu­ing sound­ing announce­ment belies a more com­pli­cat­ed real­i­ty. This new, restored film draws on footage shot by the British Army Film Unit in Nazi con­cen­tra­tion camps in 1945, which was actu­al­ly released in the mid-80s, in a film called Mem­o­ry of the CampsThis first ver­sion, which you can watch above, took near­ly forty years to reach the pub­lic, when it was final­ly released in 1984, first at the Berlin Film Fes­ti­val, then on PBS. Until that time, the orig­i­nal footage sat unused in stor­age at the Impe­r­i­al War Muse­um, con­signed there after the Allied mil­i­tary gov­ern­ment decid­ed that such pub­lic­i­ty for Nazi atroc­i­ties would­n’t get Ger­many recon­struct­ed any faster. How, right in the after­math of the Sec­ond World War, might we have react­ed to its haunt­ing­ly reveal­ing cov­er­age of Bergen-Belsen?

Accord­ing to the Inde­pen­dent, a screen­ing of Mem­o­ry of the Camps’ mate­r­i­al left even Alfred Hitch­cock, cer­tain­ly no stranger to death and malev­o­lence, â€śso trau­ma­tised that he stayed away from Pinewood Stu­dios for a week.” He’d shown up there in the first place as an advi­sor, and in that capac­i­ty offered direc­tor Sid­ney Bern­stein advice on how, visu­al­ly, to place these shock­ing rev­e­la­tions in a rec­og­niz­able geo­graph­i­cal and human con­text. “He took a cir­cle round each con­cen­tra­tion camp as it were on a map, dif­fer­ent vil­lages, dif­fer­ent places and the num­bers of peo­ple,” Bern­stein remem­bers. “Oth­er­wise you could show a con­cen­tra­tion camp, as you see them now, and it could be any­where, miles away from human­i­ty. He brought that into the film.” For more on Mem­o­ry of the Camps and its upcom­ing suc­ces­sor, a remas­tered ver­sion with a “lost” sixth reel restored, see also Richard Brody’s relat­ed New York­er post.

Mem­o­ry of the Camps and oth­er wartime films appears in our col­lec­tion of 700 Free Movies Online.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch World War II Rage Across Europe in a 7 Minute Time-Lapse Film: Every Day From 1939 to 1945

Did Hol­ly­wood Movies Stu­dios “Col­lab­o­rate” with Hitler Dur­ing WW II? His­to­ri­an Makes the Case

Don­ald Duck’s Bad Nazi Dream and Four Oth­er Dis­ney Pro­pa­gan­da Car­toons from World War II

How Alice Herz-Som­mer, the Old­est Holo­caust Sur­vivor, Sur­vived the Hor­rif­ic Ordeal with Music

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, Asia, film, lit­er­a­ture, and aes­thet­ics. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on his brand new Face­book page.

Watch a Super Cut of Wes Anderson’s Signature Slo-Mo Shots

When you watch a director’s work for a while, you get to know his/her sig­na­ture tricks — the themes and cam­era work that appear again and again. A cou­ple years ago, we fea­tured a video called Wes Ander­son // FROM ABOVEa mon­tage cap­tur­ing Anderson’s pen­chant for the aer­i­al shot, a move that con­tributes to the light­ness, play­ful­ness and quirk­i­ness of his films. Now comes a super cut of Ander­son­’s slo-mo shots, com­piled by Ale­jan­dro Prul­lan­sky, set to The Shins’ song, “New Slang.” If you’re look­ing for a good overview of Wes Ander­son­’s fil­mog­ra­phy, we’d encour­age you to watch this series: 7 Video Essays on Wes Anderson’s Films: Rush­more, The Roy­al Tenen­baums & More.

Don’t miss any­thing from Open Cul­ture. Sign up for our Dai­ly Email or RSS Feed. And we’ll send cul­tur­al curiosi­ties your way, every day.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Wes Anderson’s First Short Film: The Black-and-White, Jazz-Scored Bot­tle Rock­et (1992)

Watch Wes Anderson’s Charm­ing New Short Film, Castel­lo Cav­al­can­ti, Star­ring Jason Schwartz­man

Has Wes Ander­son Sold Out? Can He Sell Out? Crit­ics Take Up the Debate

Read Dictator Kim Jong-il’s Writings on Cinema, Art & Opera: Courtesy of North Korea’s Free E‑Library

kim jong il books

Kim Jong-Il (1941–2011), son of North Korea’s despot­ic Kim Il-sung and a tyrant in his own fil­ial right, had as many titles as he did tal­ents, with hon­orifics includ­ing the Sun of the Nation and the Shin­ing Star of Paek­tu Moun­tain. High­fa­lutin nick­names aside, the younger dic­ta­tor was a pret­ty able guy. North Kore­an sources assert that the Dear Leader once shot a 38 under par with 11 birdies (in his first and only game of golf), and could alter the weath­er using the pow­er of his mind. Hav­ing turned his intel­lect to acad­e­mia, Kim wrote 1500 books while study­ing at uni­ver­si­ty. He also the­o­rized exten­sive­ly about art, cin­e­ma, and opera.

Kim once served as the Movie and Arts Divi­sion Direc­tor in North Korea’s Pro­pa­gan­da and Agi­ta­tion Depart­ment, and was a renowned cinephile. As befit­ting a man whose per­son­al video library report­ed­ly housed over 20,000 titles, Kim (or some unfor­tu­nate ghost­writ­ers) pub­lished numer­ous lec­tures and pam­phlets on film, some of which are avail­able in the Demo­c­ra­t­ic Repub­lic of Korea’s E‑Library. In his text The Cin­e­ma and Direct­ing, for exam­ple, Kim shows off his tal­ents for writ­ing stilt­ed aca­d­e­m­ic prose while dis­cussing ide­ol­o­gy:

The ide­o­log­i­cal ker­nel of a pro­duc­tion is the seed which the direc­tor and all the oth­er cre­ative work­ers should bring into flower through their col­lec­tive efforts and wis­dom. It is not only the basis of the inter­pre­ta­tion by the indi­vid­ual cre­ative work­ers, but also the foun­da­tion on which they all com­bine to pro­duce one sin­gle cin­e­mat­ic pre­sen­ta­tion. When all inter­pre­ta­tions are con­duct­ed on the basis of one seed, they form the com­po­nents of one cin­e­mat­ic pre­sen­ta­tion because they are built on the same foun­da­tion [et cetera, ad nau­se­um].

Kim also pon­tif­i­cat­ed on mat­ters of lit­er­a­ture. The trea­tise, enti­tled Life and Lit­er­a­ture, offers the Ever-Vic­to­ri­ous, Iron-Willed Com­man­der’s thoughts on the essence of writ­ing:

Lit­er­a­ture belongs to the domain of human­ics [sic]. The essen­tial char­ac­ter­is­tic of lit­er­a­ture as a human­ics [sic] con­sists of describ­ing real peo­ple and serv­ing man… To say that lit­er­a­ture por­trays peo­ple means that it describes peo­ple and their lives, peo­ple who live, breathe, think and act as they do in real life. That lit­er­a­ture serves man means that it solves urgent and impor­tant human prob­lems through peo­ple and their lives and thus teach­es them what life is and influ­ences them to lead an hon­ourable life. It is only through an accu­rate por­tray­al of peo­ple and their lives that lit­er­a­ture can pro­vide prop­er solu­tions for valu­able human prob­lems, and exert a great influ­ence on peo­ple.

The key words here are “peo­ple” and “lives.” Got it?

Lest you dis­miss these writ­ings as pseu­do-intel­lec­tu­al non­sense, it’s impor­tant to note that some philo­soph­i­cal inter­pre­ta­tion is required. It’s the mean­ings behind the words, and the things that Kim leaves unsaid, that make up the real meat and pota­toes of the piece… Or some­thing.

You can find more of Kim Jong-il’s writ­ings (along­side those of his father, Kim Il-sung) at the Demo­c­ra­t­ic Repub­lic of Korea E‑Library. Oth­er titles include On the Art of the Dra­ma and On the Art of Opera, which gets some pret­ty stel­lar reviews on Ama­zon. Take for exam­ple: “With over five books pub­lished per year in North Korea, it is a chal­lenge to pick a sin­gle favorite. How­ev­er, this book is a stand­out for North Kore­an opera con­nois­seurs and begin­ners alike.”

Ilia Blin­d­er­man is a Mon­tre­al-based cul­ture and sci­ence writer. Fol­low him at @iliablinderman.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

North Kore­a’s Cin­e­ma of Dreams

A Slo-Mo Look Inside North Korea

Orches­tral Manoeu­vres in North Korea Prove Yet Again That Music is Uni­ver­sal

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