Watch 3,000 Films Free Online from the National Film Board of Canada, Including Portraits of Leonard Cohen, Margaret Atwood & Jack Kerouac

What, exact­ly, is Cana­da? The ques­tion some­times occurs to Amer­i­cans, liv­ing as they do right next door. But it might sur­prise those Amer­i­cans to learn that Cana­di­ans them­selves ask the very same ques­tion, liv­ing as they do in a coun­try that could be defined by any num­ber of its ele­ments — its vast­ness, its mul­ti­cul­tur­al­ism, The Kids in the Hall — but nev­er seems defined by any one of them in par­tic­u­lar. Many indi­vid­u­als and groups through­out Cana­di­an his­to­ry have par­tic­i­pat­ed in the project of explain­ing Cana­da, and indeed defin­ing it. Few have done as much as the Nation­al Film Board of Cana­da and the film­mak­ers it has sup­port­ed, thanks to whom “three thou­sand films, from doc­u­men­taries to nar­ra­tive fea­tures to exper­i­men­tal shorts, are avail­able to stream free of charge, even for Amer­i­cans.”

Those words come from The Out­line’s Chris R. Mor­gan, who writes that, “for the ‘Canuckophile’ (not my coinage but a term I hap­pi­ly own), the NFB’s Screen­ing Room is one of the supreme plea­sures of the inter­net. Since 1939, the NFB has facil­i­tat­ed the telling of Canada’s sto­ry in its people’s own words and images.”

Mor­gan points up to such NFB-sup­port­ed pro­duc­tions as 1965’s Ladies and Gen­tle­men … Mr. Leonard Cohen, which “fol­lows the tit­u­lar 30-year-old poet giv­ing wit­ty read­ings, par­ty­ing, and liv­ing around Mon­tre­al,” and the 2014 Shame­less Pro­pa­gan­da, described at the Screen­ing Room as an exam­i­na­tion of “Canada’s nation­al art form.” That art form devel­oped in the years after the NFB’s found­ing in 1939, a time when its found­ing com­mis­sion­er John Gri­er­son called doc­u­men­taries a “ham­mer to shape soci­ety.”

Not that most of what you’ll find to watch in the NFB’s screen­ing room comes down like a ham­mer — nor does it feel espe­cial­ly pro­pa­gan­dis­tic, as we’ve come to under­stand that term in the 21st cen­tu­ry. Take, for instance, the doc­u­men­tary por­traits of Cana­di­an writ­ers like Mar­garet Atwood and Jack Ker­ouac.

The lat­ter lead a life described by film­mak­er Her­ménégilde Chi­as­son as “a Fran­co-Amer­i­can odyssey,” which will remind even the most Cana­da-unaware Amer­i­cans of one thing that clear­ly sets Cana­da apart: its bilin­gual­ism. That, too, pro­vides mate­r­i­al for a few NFB pro­duc­tions, includ­ing 1965’s Instant French, a short about “the adven­tures of a group of busi­ness­men who are forced into tak­ing French lessons to stay com­pet­i­tive in their field.”

“At first put out by this news,” con­tin­ues the descrip­tion at the Screen­ing Room, “one by one they begin to real­ize that gain­ing flu­en­cy in anoth­er lan­guage has its ben­e­fits.” Hokey though it may sound — “def­i­nite­ly a prod­uct of its time,” as the NFB now says — a film like Instant French offers a glimpse into not just Canada’s past but the vision for soci­ety that has shaped Canada’s present and will con­tin­ue to shape its future. You can browse the NFB’s large and grow­ing online archive by sub­ject (with cat­e­gories includ­ing lit­er­a­ture and lan­guage, music, and his­to­ry) as well as through playlists like “Expo 67: 50 Years Lat­er,” “Extra­or­di­nary Ordi­nary Peo­ple,” — and, of course, “Hock­ey Movies,” which  reminds us that, elu­sive though Cana­di­an cul­ture as a whole may some­times feel, cer­tain impor­tant parts of it aren’t that hard to grasp.

via The Out­line

Relat­ed Con­tent:

4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More

Watch 66 Oscar-Nom­i­nat­ed-and-Award-Win­ning Ani­mat­ed Shorts Online, Cour­tesy of the Nation­al Film Board of Cana­da

200+ Films by Indige­nous Direc­tors Now Free to View Online: A New Archive Launched by the Nation­al Film Board of Cana­da

Lis­ten to Glenn Gould’s Shock­ing­ly Exper­i­men­tal Radio Doc­u­men­tary, The Idea of North (1967)

Glenn Gould Gives Us a Tour of Toron­to, His Beloved Home­town (1979)

William Shat­ner Sings O Cana­da (and Hap­py Cana­da Day)

1,150 Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, etc. 

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall, on Face­book, or on Insta­gram.

See the Very First Solar Eclipse Captured on Film: A Magical Moment in Science and Filmmaking (1900)

The “con­quest of space,” so to speak—the human under­stand­ing of and trav­el to the cosmos—has come about through a suc­ces­sion of great sci­en­tif­ic minds, as well as some of the most inter­est­ing and accom­plished peo­ple all around. We nev­er seem to tire of learn­ing about their devo­tion to math­e­mat­ics, physics, med­i­cine, and sci­en­tif­ic dis­cov­ery writ as large as pos­si­ble. But some­times the con­quest of space has required the unique tal­ents of magi­cians. From the ancient mages who excit­ed human imag­i­na­tion about the stars for thou­sands of years, to alchemists like Isaac New­ton and beyond.

Wit­ness the strange career of Mar­vel White­side Par­sons, bet­ter known as Jack Par­sons: sci-fi fanat­ic, occultist, dis­ci­ple of Aleis­ter Crow­ley, and one­time mag­i­cal part­ner of L. Ron Hub­bard. Par­sons is most famous for found­ing the Jet Propul­sion Lab­o­ra­to­ry, the research cen­ter that pow­ers NASA. Then we have magi­cian Nevil Maskelyne—son of magi­cian John Nevil Maske­lyne, and pos­si­ble descen­dent, so he said, of the fifth British Roy­al Astronomer, “also named Nevil Maske­lyne,” writes Jason Daley at Smith­son­ian. Maske­lyne the very much younger doc­u­ment­ed the first total solar eclipse ever cap­tured on film.

Grant­ed, he was a stage magi­cian, not a fol­low­er of “The Great Beast 666.” Maske­lyne’s inter­est in show­man­ship and spec­ta­cle drew him not to sex mag­ic but to film­mak­ing and astron­o­my, inter­ests he com­bined when he made the first film ever of a total solar eclipse. Nowa­days, mil­lions of peo­ple have the means to make such a film in their pock­et, pro­vid­ed they have a good view of the infre­quent cos­mic event (and do not ever look at it direct­ly). In 1900, when Maske­lyne under­took the chal­lenge, film­mak­ing was just emerg­ing from infan­cy into tod­dler­hood.

The Lumière broth­ers, often cred­it­ed as the first film­mak­ers, had held their first pub­lic screen­ing only five years ear­li­er. They called their ear­ly pro­duc­tions actu­al­ités, essen­tial­ly “real­i­ty films.” Some of these, like the leg­endary L’ar­rivée d’un train en gare de La Cio­tat, famous­ly shocked and ter­ri­fied audi­ences out of their seats. In 1900, film was still a kind of mag­ic, and “like mag­ic,” says Bry­ony Dixon, cura­tor at the British Film Insti­tute (BFI), film “com­bines both art and sci­ence.” The sto­ry of Maskelyne’s achieve­ment is “a sto­ry about mag­ic.”

Maskelyne’s love for film inspired in him a pas­sion for astron­o­my as well, and he even­tu­al­ly became a fel­low of the Roy­al Astro­nom­i­cal Soci­ety. Unfor­tu­nate­ly, his first cin­e­mat­ic con­tri­bu­tion to the field dis­ap­peared, nev­er to be seen again. Two years before he shot the footage above from the ground in North Car­oli­na on May 28, 1900, on a ven­ture fund­ed by the British Astro­nom­i­cal Asso­ci­a­tion, Maske­lyne trav­eled to India to doc­u­ment a sim­i­lar event. The film can­nis­ter was stolen on his return trip home

But he had learned what he need­ed to, hav­ing designed “a spe­cial tele­scop­ic adapter for a movie cam­era,” just as he and his father had ear­li­er improved upon the film pro­jec­tor by build­ing their own. Maske­lyne had his spec­ta­cle. He showed the film in his the­ater, and the Roy­al Astro­nom­i­cal Soci­ety ensured that we could see it almost 120 years lat­er by archiv­ing a minute of the footage. Thanks to a part­ner­ship between the British Film Insti­tute and the RAS, the film has been restored, dig­i­tized in 4K res­o­lu­tion, and made freely avail­able online as part of a trove of Vic­to­ri­an-era films” just released by the BFI.

While thou­sands, maybe mil­lions, of dif­fer­ent mov­ing images of 2017’s solar eclipse exist on social media accounts, of this event 120 years ago there has exist­ed only one. Now that brief moment in time can reach mil­lions of peo­ple in an instant, and exist in an infi­nite num­ber of per­fect copies, a phe­nom­e­non that might have seemed in 1900 like an advanced form of mag­ic.

via Smith­son­ian

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Moons, Moons, They’re Every­where. The Unex­pect­ed Shad­ows of the Solar Eclipse

Last Night’s Solar Eclipse in a 60-Sec­ond, 700-Pic­ture Time­lapse Video

Solar Eclipse Seen From Out­er Space

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

Watch the First Trailer for Martin Scorsese’s New Film, Rolling Thunder Revue: A Bob Dylan Story 

Rolling Thun­der Revue: A Bob Dylan Sto­ry “cap­tures the trou­bled spir­it of Amer­i­ca in 1975, and the joy­ous music that Bob Dylan per­formed that fall [dur­ing the Rolling Thun­der Revue tour]. Mas­ter film­mak­er Mar­tin Scors­ese cre­ates a one-of-a-kind movie expe­ri­ence: part doc­u­men­tary, part con­cert film, part fever dream. Fea­tur­ing Joan Baez, Rubin Hur­ri­cane Carter, Sam Shep­ard, Allen Gins­berg, and Bob Dylan giv­ing his first on-cam­era inter­view in over a decade. The film goes beyond mere recla­ma­tion of Dylan’s extra­or­di­nary music—it’s a roadmap into the wild coun­try of artis­tic self-rein­ven­tion.”

Watch the brand new trail­er above, and mark June 12th on your cal­en­dar when the film arrives on Net­flix.

Relat­ed­ly, June 7th is when Dylan will release The Rolling Thun­der Revue: The 1975 Live Record­ings, a 14CD box set that fea­tures all five sets from the Rolling Thun­der Revue tour that were pro­fes­sion­al­ly record­ed.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Tan­gled Up in Blue: Deci­pher­ing a Bob Dylan Mas­ter­piece

Clas­sic Songs by Bob Dylan Re-Imag­ined as Pulp Fic­tion Book Cov­ers: “Like a Rolling Stone,” “A Hard Rain’s A‑Gonna Fall” & More

Watch Joan Baez Endear­ing­ly Imi­tate Bob Dylan (1972)

Hear Bob Dylan’s New­ly-Released Nobel Lec­ture: A Med­i­ta­tion on Music, Lit­er­a­ture & Lyrics

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Elton John Takes Us Through the Creative Process of His Early Hit “Tiny Dancer” (1970)

We all have our favorites from Elton John’s vast cat­a­log, and I’ll admit that 1970’s “Tiny Dancer” has nev­er been one of mine.

Call me crass, but I tend to get it con­fused with 1973’s “Can­dle in the Wind,” which John retooled so swift­ly for Princess Diana’s 1997 funer­al.

But then Sir Elton—or “Reg” as close friends and long-time lyri­cist Bernie Taupin call the artist for­mer­ly known as Regi­nald Ken­neth Dwight—has always had a knack for work­ing quick­ly, as Taupin explains above.

I’d nev­er been curi­ous enough to inves­ti­gate, but assumed, cor­rect­ly, that the lyric “seam­stress for the band” referred to an actu­al per­son.

John actu­al­ly seems a bit blasé, explain­ing that it’s about Taupin’s then girl­friend and even­tu­al first wife, Max­ine Feibel­man, whom I must thank for inad­ver­tent­ly sup­ply­ing the title of my favorite track, “The Bitch is Back,” which was her code phrase for “Elton’s in a mood.”

As per Sir Elton, “Tiny Dancer”’s lyrics informed the sound, which is more bal­le­ri­na than pirate smile.

And while the orig­i­nal lin­er notes’ ded­i­ca­tion sug­gests that “Tiny Dancer” is indeed a trib­ute to Feibel­man, three wives lat­er, Taupin revised things a bit, telling author Gavin Edwards:

We came to Cal­i­for­nia in the fall of 1970, and sun­shine radi­at­ed from the pop­u­lace. I was try­ing to cap­ture the spir­it of that time, encap­su­lat­ed by the women we met—especially at the clothes stores up and down the Strip in L.A. They were free spir­its, sexy in hiphug­gers and lacy blous­es, and very ethe­re­al, the way they moved. So dif­fer­ent from what I’d been used to in Eng­land. And they all want­ed to sew patch­es on your jeans. They’d moth­er you and sleep with you—it was the per­fect Oedi­pal com­plex.

Writer-direc­tor Cameron Crowe must’ve absorbed that mes­sage, to go by his mem­o­rable use of the song in Almost Famous’ tour bus scene,

Those com­mu­nal good vibes per­me­ate direc­tor Max Weiland’s win­ning entry in a recent John-spon­sored con­test on The Cut, which, like the open­ing scene of La La Land, gets a lot of mileage from LA’s rep­u­ta­tion for traf­fic jams.

Can tick­et buy­ers expect to find the song fea­tured promi­nent­ly in the just released John biopic, Rock­et­man?

No.

(Just kid­ding. Why else would John and his Rock­et­man dop­pel­gänger, actor Taron Egerton choose that one for a duet at John’s annu­al Oscar par­ty?)

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A New Christ­mas Com­mer­cial Takes You on a Sen­ti­men­tal Jour­ney Through Elton John’s Rich Musi­cal Life

Elton John Sings His Clas­sic Hit ‘Your Song’ Through the Years

Elton John Proves He Can Turn any Text into a Song: Watch Him Impro­vise with Lines from Hen­rik Ibsen’s Play, Peer Gynt

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Join her in New York City this June for the next install­ment of her book-based vari­ety show, Necro­mancers of the Pub­lic Domain. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Paris, New York & Havana Come to Life in Colorized Films Shot Between 1890 and 1931

Cities have long pro­vid­ed a rich envi­ron­ment for pho­tog­ra­phy, at least to pho­tog­ra­phers not inter­est­ed exclu­sive­ly in nature. But only with the advent of the motion pic­ture cam­era did the sub­ject of cities find a pho­to­graph­ic form that tru­ly suit­ed it. Hence the pop­u­lar­i­ty in the 1920s of “city sym­pho­ny” films, each of which sought to cap­ture and present the real life of a dif­fer­ent bustling indus­tri­al metrop­o­lis. But while city sym­phonies cer­tain­ly hold up as works of art, they do make mod­ern-day view­ers won­der: what would all these cap­i­tals look like if I could gaze back­ward in time, look­ing not through the jit­tery, col­or­less medi­um of ear­ly motion-pic­ture film, but with my own eyes?

Youtu­ber Igna­cio López-Fran­cos offers a step clos­er to the answer in the form of these four videos, each of which takes his­tor­i­cal footage of a city, then cor­rects its speed and adds col­or to make it more life­like.

At the top of the post we have “a col­lec­tion of high qual­i­ty remas­tered prints from the dawn of film tak­en in Belle Époque-era Paris, France from 1896–1900.” Shot by the Lumière com­pa­ny (which was found­ed by Auguste and Louis Lumière, inven­tors of the pro­ject­ed motion pic­ture), the sights cap­tured by the film include the Avenue des Champs-Élysées, Tui­leries Gar­den, the then-new Eif­fel Tow­er, and the now-soon-to-be-reha­bil­i­tat­ed but then-intact Notre Dame cathe­dral.

The Paris footage was col­orized using DeOld­ify, “a deep learn­ing-based project for col­oriz­ing and restor­ing old images.” So was the footage just above, which shows New York City in 1911 as shot by the Swedish com­pa­ny Sven­s­ka Biografteatern and released pub­licly by the Muse­um of Mod­ern Art. “Pro­duced only three years before the out­break of World War I, the every­day life of the city record­ed here — street traf­fic, peo­ple going about their busi­ness — has a casu­al, almost pas­toral qual­i­ty that dif­fers from the mod­ernist per­spec­tive of lat­er city-sym­pho­ny films,” say the accom­pa­ny­ing notes. “Take note of the sur­pris­ing and remark­ably time­less expres­sion of bore­dom exhib­it­ed by a young girl filmed as she was chauf­feured along Broad­way in the front seat of a con­vert­ible lim­ou­sine.”

Shot twen­ty years lat­er, these clips of New York’s The­ater Dis­trict have also under­gone the DeOld­ify treat­ment, which gets the bright lights (and numer­ous bal­ly­hoo­ing signs) of the big city a lit­tle clos­er to the stun­ning qual­i­ty they must have had on a new arrival in the 1930s. The streets of Havana were seem­ing­ly qui­eter dur­ing that same decade, at least if the col­orized footage below is to be believed. But then, the his­to­ry of tourism in Cuba remem­bers the 1930s as some­thing of a dull stretch after the high-liv­ing 1920s that came before, dur­ing the Unit­ed States’ days of Pro­hi­bi­tion — let alone the even more daiquiri- and moji­to-soaked 1950s that would come lat­er, speak­ing of eras one dreams of see­ing for one­self.

via Twist­ed Sifter

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Immac­u­late­ly Restored Film Lets You Revis­it Life in New York City in 1911

The Old­est Known Footage of Lon­don (1890–1920) Fea­tures the City’s Great Land­marks

Time Trav­el Back to Tokyo After World War II, and See the City in Remark­ably High-Qual­i­ty 1940s Video

Berlin Street Scenes Beau­ti­ful­ly Caught on Film (1900–1914)

Pris­tine Footage Lets You Revis­it Life in Paris in the 1890s: Watch Footage Shot by the Lumière Broth­ers

The Old­est Known Footage of Lon­don (1890–1920) Fea­tures the City’s Great Land­marks

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall, on Face­book, or on Insta­gram.

A Mesmerizing Trip Across the Brooklyn Bridge: Watch Footage from 1899

It’s hard­ly orig­i­nal advice but bears repeat­ing any­way: no one vis­it­ing New York should leave, if they can help it, before they cross the Brook­lyn Bridge—preferably on foot, if pos­si­ble, and at a rev­er­en­tial pace that lets them soak up all the Neo-goth­ic structure’s sto­ried his­to­ry. Walk from Man­hat­tan to Brook­lyn, then back again, or the oth­er away around, since that’s what the bridge was built for—the com­mutes of a nine­teenth cen­tu­ry bridge-but-not-yet-tun­nel crowd (the first NYC sub­way tun­nel didn’t open until 1908).

In 1899, film­mak­ers from Amer­i­can Muto­scope and Bio­graph elect­ed for a mode of trav­el for a New York cen­tu­ry, putting a cam­era at “the front end of a third rail car run­ning at high speed,” notes a 1902 Amer­i­can Muto­scope cat­a­logue. They accel­er­at­ed the tour to the pace of a mod­ern machine, chos­ing the Man­hat­tan to Brook­lyn route. “The entire trip con­sumes three min­utes of time, dur­ing which abun­dant oppor­tu­ni­ty is giv­en to observe all the struc­tur­al won­ders of the bridge, and far dis­tant riv­er panora­ma below.” (See one-third of the trip just below.)

Film­mak­er Bill Mor­ri­son looped excerpts of those three New York min­utes and extend­ed them to nine in his short, stereo­scop­ic jour­ney “Out­er­bor­ough,” at the top, com­mis­sioned by The Muse­um of Mod­ern Art in 2005 and scored with orig­i­nal music by Todd Reynolds. Tak­ing the 1899 footage as its source mate­r­i­al, the film turns a rapid tran­sit tour into a mov­ing man­dala, a frac­tal rep­e­ti­tion at fright­en­ing­ly faster and faster speeds, of the bridge’s most mechan­i­cal vistas—the views of its loom­ing, vault­ed arch­es and of the steel cage sur­round­ing the tracks.

One of the engi­neer­ing won­ders of the world, the Brook­lyn Bridge opened 136 years ago this month, on May 24th, 1883. The first per­son to walk across it was the woman who over­saw its con­struc­tion for 11 of the 14 years it took to build the bridge. After design­er John Roe­bling died of tetanus, his son Wash­ing­ton took over, only to suc­cumb to the bends dur­ing the sink­ing of the cais­sons and spend the rest of his life bedrid­den. Emi­ly, his wife, “took on the chal­lenge,” notes the blog 6sqft, con­sult­ing with her hus­band while active­ly super­vis­ing the project.

She “stud­ied math­e­mat­ics, the cal­cu­la­tions of cate­nary curves, strengths of mate­ri­als and the intri­ca­cies of cable con­struc­tion.” On its open­ing day, Emi­ly walked the bridge’s 1,595 feet, from Man­hat­tan to Brook­lyn, “her long skirt bil­low­ing in the wind as she showed [the crowd] details of the con­struc­tion,” writes David McCul­lough in The Great Bridge. Six days lat­er, an acci­dent caused a pan­ic and a stam­pede that killed twelve peo­ple. Some months lat­er, P.T. Barnum’s Jum­bo led a parade of 21 ele­phants over the bridge in a stunt to prove its safe­ty.

Barnum’s the­atrics were sur­pris­ing­ly honest—the bridge may have need­ed sell­ing to skep­ti­cal com­muters, but it need­ed no hype. It out­lived most of its con­tem­po­raries, despite the fact that it was built before engi­neers under­stood the aero­dy­nam­ic prop­er­ties of bridges. The Roe­blings designed and built the bridge to be six times stronger than it need­ed to be, but no one could have fore­seen just how durable the struc­ture would prove.

It elicit­ed a fas­ci­na­tion that nev­er waned for its pal­pa­ble strength and beau­ty, yet few­er of its admir­ers chose to doc­u­ment the jour­ney that has tak­en mil­lions of Brook­lynites over the riv­er to low­er Man­hat­tan, by foot, bike, car, and yes, by train. Leave it to that futur­ist for the com­mon man, Thomas Edi­son, to film the trip. See his 1899 footage of Brook­lyn to Man­hat­tan by train just above.

via Aeon

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Immac­u­late­ly Restored Film Lets You Revis­it Life in New York City in 1911

An Online Gallery of Over 900,000 Breath­tak­ing Pho­tos of His­toric New York City

New York City: A Social His­to­ry (A Free Online Course from N.Y.U.) 

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

Venerable Female Artists, Musicians & Authors Give Advice to the Young: Patti Smith, Laurie Anderson & More

To the Louisiana Chan­nel and the Louisiana Muse­um of Mod­ern Art, on behalf of mature women every­where: Thank you. You have excel­lent taste.

We’ve weath­ered invis­i­bil­i­ty and Mom jeans jokes, as rep­re­sen­ta­tives from our demo­graph­ic are judged more harsh­ly in cat­e­gories that nev­er seem to apply to their male coun­ter­parts in pol­i­tics and the per­form­ing arts.

You’ll find plen­ty of cel­e­brat­ed male artists con­tribut­ing advice to emerg­ing artists in the Louisiana Project’s video series, but the Gueril­la Girls will be grat­i­fied to see how robust­ly rep­re­sent­ed these work­ing women are.

Noth­ing beats author­i­ty con­ferred by decades of pro­fes­sion­al expe­ri­ence.

And while young women are sure to be inspired by these ven­er­a­ble inter­vie­wees, let’s not sell any­one short.

We may have assem­bled a playlist titled Women Artists’ Advice to the Young (watch it from front to back at the bot­tom of the post), but let’s agree that their advice is good for emerg­ing artists of all gen­ders.

Author, poet, and God­moth­er of Punk Pat­ti Smith (born 1946) serves up her ver­sion of to thine own self be true.

Avant-garde com­pos­er and musi­cian Lau­rie Ander­son (born 1947) coun­sels against the sort of nar­row self-def­i­n­i­tion that dis­cour­ages artis­tic explo­ration. Be loose, like a goose.

Author Her­b­jørg Wass­mo (born 1942) wants young artists to pre­pare for the inevitable days of low moti­va­tion and self-doubt by resolv­ing to work regard­less.

Oth­er nota­bles include film­mak­er Shirin Neshat (born 1957), author Lydia Davis (born 1947), artist Joyce Pen­sato (born 1941), and per­for­mance artist Mari­na Abramović (born 1946).

The old­est inter­vie­wee in the col­lec­tion, artist Yay­oi Kusama (born 1929), refus­es to sad­dle up and come up with any teacher­ly  advice, but could cer­tain­ly be con­sid­ered a walk­ing exam­ple of what it means to be “liv­ing as an artist with a wish to cre­ate a beau­ti­ful world with human love.”

Enjoy the full playlist here:

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Toni Mor­ri­son Dis­pens­es Sound Writ­ing Advice: Tips You Can Apply to Your Own Work

74 Essen­tial Books for Your Per­son­al Library: A List Curat­ed by Female Cre­atives

A Space of Their Own, a New Online Data­base, Will Fea­ture Works by 600+ Over­looked Female Artists from the 15th-19th Cen­turies

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inkyzine.  Join her in New York City May 13 for the next install­ment of her book-based vari­ety show, Necro­mancers of the Pub­lic Domain. Fol­low her@AyunHalliday.

Watch Six New Short Alien Films: Created to Celebrate the 40th Anniversary of Ridley Scott’s Film

Alien came out 40 years ago this month, not that its age shows in the least. The ter­ror of the ever-dimin­ish­ing crew of the Nos­tro­mo trapped on their ship with the mer­ci­less extrater­res­tri­al mon­ster of the title remains as vis­cer­al as it was in 1979, and the dank, pre-dig­i­tal con­fines of its set­ting have tak­en on a retro pati­na that suc­ces­sive gen­er­a­tions of film­mak­ers strug­gle to recre­ate for them­selves.

Now, in a series of brand new short films set in the Alien uni­verse, you can see how six young film­mak­ers pay trib­ute to Rid­ley Scot­t’s orig­i­nal film and its cin­e­mat­ic lega­cy, each in their own way. These shorts come as the fruits of an ini­tia­tive launched by 20th Cen­tu­ry Fox to mark 40 years of Alien.

“Devel­oped by emerg­ing film­mak­ers select­ed from 550 sub­mis­sions on the Ton­gal plat­form,” writes Col­lid­er’s Dave Trum­bore, “the anniver­sary ini­tia­tive focused on find­ing the biggest fans of the Alien fran­chise to cre­ate new, thrilling sto­ries for the Alien fan­dom.”

These sto­ries include many of the ele­ments that fan­dom has come to expect — iso­lat­ed and endan­gered space­far­ers, bleak colonies on dis­tant plan­ets, tough women, fear­some crea­tures lurk­ing in the dark­ness, escape pods, chest-burst­ing — as well a few it has­n’t. Indiewire’s Michael Nor­dine high­lights Noah Miller’s Alone, “which fol­lows a woman named Hope who’s hurtling through space on her lone­some. She even­tu­al­ly gains access to a restrict­ed part of her ship after a sys­tem mal­func­tion, and you can prob­a­bly guess what’s on the oth­er side of that sealed-off door.” But you cer­tain­ly won’t be able to guess what hap­pens next.

Nor­dine also has praise for the pro­tag­o­nist of the Spears Sis­ters’ Ore: “A min­er about to wel­come her lat­est grand­child, she puts her­self in harm’s way rather than risk let­ting the lat­est alien spec­i­men make it out of the mine and threat­en the colony (and, more to the point, her fam­i­ly) above. That’s a sim­ple, famil­iar tack, but it’s well told — some­thing true of most Alien sto­ries.”  Col­lec­tive­ly, he writes, these shorts “empha­size what makes Alien such an endur­ing fran­chise: its indus­tri­al, work­ing-class envi­rons full of clunky green-screen com­put­ers and dis­grun­tled labor­ers; its bleak view of the cor­po­rate bureau­crats who enable the xenomorphs’ car­nage by try­ing to con­trol them and writ­ing off their under­lings as col­lat­er­al dam­age; and, of course, its hero­ines.”

Tak­ing pitch­es from fans through a crowd­sourc­ing plat­form and dis­trib­ut­ing the result­ing films on Youtube may seem like an almost par­o­d­i­cal­ly 21st-cen­tu­ry way of extend­ing a fran­chise that began in the 1970s, but test­ing out dif­fer­ent film­mak­ers’ visions has long been a part of the greater Alien project: the sequels direct­ed in the 1980s and 90s by James Cameron, David Finch­er, and Jean-Pierre Jeunet hint­ed at the great vari­ety of pos­si­bil­i­ties laid down by Scot­t’s orig­i­nal, the cin­e­mat­ic stan­dard-bear­er for the con­test of wills between man and alien — or rather, woman and alien.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

High School Kids Stage Alien: The Play and You Can Now Watch It Online

Sigour­ney Weaver Stars in a New Exper­i­men­tal Sci-Fi Film: Watch “Rak­ka” Free Online

42 Hours of Ambi­ent Sounds from Blade Run­ner, Alien, Star Trek and Doc­tor Who Will Help You Relax & Sleep

Three Blade Run­ner Pre­quels: Watch Them Online

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

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