Search Results for "u"

Trace Darwin’s Footsteps with Google’s New Virtual Tour of the Galapagos Islands

As famous­ly stud­ied as they are, the 18 Gala­pa­gos Islands haven’t been well mapped. And research in the Gala­pa­gos, sit­u­at­ed more than 500 miles west of Ecuador, is expen­sive and dif­fi­cult. Maybe that’s part of the islands’ allure—that and the stun­ning bio­di­ver­si­ty.

In part­ner­ship with the Charles Dar­win Foun­da­tion and Gala­pa­gos Nation­al Park, Google sent a team armed with Street View Trekker cam­eras to cre­ate an entire­ly new 360 degree Street View expe­ri­ence that makes three major islands, a frag­ile tor­toise breed­ing area and coastal areas, avail­able to vis­i­tors locat­ed any­where with an Inter­net con­nec­tion.

Dar­win made his first expe­di­tion to the islands 178 years ago. This might have been his first view of San Cristo­bal Island.

GalapagosApproach

After explor­ing San Cristobal’s rocky coast, Google trekkers made their way to Gala­pa­guera, a giant tor­toise breed­ing cen­ter, where they saw new­ly hatched babies and adults munch­ing on leaves and stalks.

Off the coast of Flo­re­ana Island, trekkers went under­wa­ter and caught images of seals play­ing in the water. They also shot images inside the Charles Dar­win Research Station’s ver­te­brate, inver­te­brate and plant col­lec­tions.

Google does a good job of doc­u­ment­ing its own process. Trekkers trav­eled to Gala­pa­gos in May and spent 10 days hik­ing, boat­ing, and div­ing. It’s fun to watch them climb and scoot around the islands loaded with a geo­des­ic cam­era back­pack.

Sci­en­tists get real­ly excit­ed when they find new tools to do their work. And why shouldn’t they? These islands are amaz­ing and are home to so many unique species, like the Marine Igua­na. We land­lub­bers may not get there any­time soon, but this is the next best thing.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Read the Orig­i­nal Let­ters Where Charles Dar­win Worked Out His The­o­ry of Evo­lu­tion

The Genius of Charles Dar­win Revealed in Three-Part Series by Richard Dawkins

Dar­win: A 1993 Film by Peter Green­away

Kate Rix writes about edu­ca­tion and dig­i­tal media. Fol­low her on Twit­ter.

Read More...

10th Graders Draw Pictures Imagining Philosophers at Work

philos at work 3The Tum­blr called Philoso­phers at Work has gath­ered togeth­er a fun series of draw­ings by 10th graders from Madi­son WI, who were asked by their teacher to  — you guessed it — “draw a philoso­pher at work.” I will leave it to you to peruse the gallery of draw­ings. But I’ll just say this: What­ev­er their virtues, the draw­ings don’t look any­thing like real philoso­phers. (For some pic­tures of real philoso­phers, see, of course, the Looks Philo­soph­i­cal tum­blr.) Nor do tenth graders, no dis­re­spect to them, depict philoso­phers near­ly as artis­ti­cal­ly as Renée Jor­gensen Bolinger, whose paint­ings of Wittgen­stein, Frege and Rus­sell we showed you a few weeks back. If you missed her paint­ings, I’d encour­age you to see Philoso­pher Por­traits: Famous Philoso­phers Paint­ed in the Style of Influ­en­tial Artists. Enjoy your week­end.

philosophers at work

Note: if you click on the images above and below, you can see each in an expand­ed for­mat.

via Leit­er Reports

Relat­ed Con­tent:

10 Famous Philoso­phers in Words and Images

Pho­tog­ra­phy of Lud­wig Wittgen­stein Released by Archives at Cam­bridge

Phi­los­o­phy: Free Cours­es

The His­to­ry of Phi­los­o­phy … With­out Any Gaps

Read More...

William S. Burroughs Explains What Artists & Creative Thinkers Do for Humanity: From Galileo to Cézanne and James Joyce

The inter­view clip above, from the 1991 doc­u­men­tary Com­mis­sion­er of Sew­ers, puts a two-part ques­tion to Naked Lunch author, “cut-up writ­ing” mas­ter, and coun­ter­cul­ture emi­nence William S. Bur­roughs: “What is the orig­i­nal feel of the writer? What mech­a­nisms should he con­sid­er, work on?” That may sound like a slight­ly odd line of inquiry — the inter­view­er, bear in mind, does­n’t speak Eng­lish native­ly — but Bur­roughs responds with an impor­tant point, clear­ly made. “The word should should nev­er arise,” he first insists, though per­haps self-con­tra­dic­to­ri­ly. “There is no such con­cept as should in regard to art — or any­thing — unless you spec­i­fy. If you’re try­ing to build a bridge, then you can say we should do this and we should do that, with respect to get­ting a bridge built, but it does­n’t float in a vac­u­um.” All well and good for engi­neer­ing. But what can art do, if not build a bridge?

“One very impor­tant aspect of art is that it makes peo­ple aware of what they know and what they don’t know that they know,” Bur­roughs says. “This applies to all cre­ative think­ing. For exam­ple, peo­ple on the sea coast in the mid­dle ages knew the Earth was round. They believed the Earth was flat because the church said so. Galileo tells them the Earth was round, and near­ly was burned at the stake for say­ing so.”

Bur­roughs sum­mons as exam­ples Cézanne, whose stud­ies of what “objects look like seen from a cer­tain angle and in a cer­tain light” at first made view­ers think “he’d thrown paint on can­vas,” and Joyce, who “made peo­ple aware of their stream of con­scious­ness, at least on a ver­bal lev­el,” but “was first accused of being unin­tel­li­gi­ble.” Yet Bur­roughs found he lived in a world where, this art already hav­ing expand­ed human­i­ty’s con­scious­ness, “no child would have any dif­fi­cul­ty in see­ing a Cézanne” and few “would have any dif­fi­cul­ty with Ulysses. The artist, then, expands aware­ness. Once the break­through is made, this becomes part of the gen­er­al aware­ness.” Such insight makes Bur­roughs, as one Youtube com­menter puts it, “so down-to-earth that he’s far-out.”

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:

When William S. Bur­roughs Joined Sci­en­tol­ogy (and His 1971 Book Denounc­ing It)

Com­mis­sion­er of Sew­ers: A 1991 Pro­file of Beat Writer William S. Bur­roughs

William S. Bur­roughs on the Art of Cut-up Writ­ing

William S. Bur­roughs’ Short Course on Cre­ative Read­ing

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

Read More...

What Was Your First Live Concert? We’ll Show You Ours, Share Yours.

I’m gonna tell you some­thing. Most of my life I’ve been a snob. A music snob. I know, peo­ple like me can suck the fun out of a five-year-old’s birth­day par­ty. But I wasn’t always such a twist­ed killjoy. For a cou­ple years of my life, between the ten­der ages of 11 and 13, I was a wide-eyed naïf, groov­ing to what­ev­er late eight­ies R&B pow­er bal­lad rap hits hap­pened to come on the radio, and it all sound­ed pret­ty good to me. Sure, I should’ve known better—I grew up folk and blues and gold­en age rock and roll. But that was my par­ents’ music. To para­phrase Mor­ris­sey, it had noth­ing to say about my life.

No, in that excru­ci­at­ing­ly earnest yet also oh-so painful­ly awk­ward way, the first band I believed spoke to me was INXS. Yes, that’s right, those ridicu­lous Aussie are­na rock­ers whose tum­ble from cheesy to mor­bid­ly tawdry to Real­i­ty TV we all know so well. At 13, I was con­vinced that Michael Hutchence was my gen­er­a­tion’s Jim Mor­ri­son. And so one night in March, dressed in a sleeve­less INXS t‑shirt, ripped jeans and high-top sneak­ers, my hair teased into some kind of Prince-like pom­padour, I told my par­ents I was going to a sleep­over. Instead, I rode with a few neigh­bor­hood friends to the Patri­ot Cen­ter at George Mason Uni­ver­si­ty, the tick­et I’d had a bud­dy’s old­er broth­er buy with the last of my paper route mon­ey tucked neat­ly into the fold of my black Vel­cro INXS wal­let. I mount­ed the stairs to a sec­tion so high that our view of the stage looked like a Georges Seu­rat up close, all dis­ori­ent­ing lit­tle col­ored dots.

But I was there, man, in the throng, in the thick of a rock and roll show, hear­ing the hits blare across acres of scream­ing heads. And it was mag­i­cal. Not very long after, I would turn to hard­er stuff, become jad­ed and crusty and look back with dis­dain on the smooth sounds of INXS. But that feel­ing then… stand­ing there amidst those crowds, almost every­one old­er than me, wob­bling in the haze of sur­rep­ti­tious pot smoke and the slight­ly nau­se­at­ing high of cheap beer drunk fast in an old mus­cle car… I had arrived. I told my par­ents about this years lat­er, when the statute of lim­i­ta­tions ran out. And they laughed. And so did I. Because, c’mon. It’s INXS. Then again, watch­ing the footage above from 1988, the same year I saw them at 13, I have to admit that they don’t sound half bad. But good­ness, those out­fits. Prob­a­bly for the best I couldn’t actu­al­ly see them on the stage back then.

So there’s my sto­ry, read­ers, inspired by this Metafil­ter thread. Now that I’ve told you mine, please tell me yours. What was your very first con­cert? There’s no shame here, friends. Only nos­tal­gia. Extra points to those who pro­vide links to live con­cert footage.

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

Read More...

Dewars Channels the Ghost of Charles Bukowski to Sell Scotch

In 1993, the GAP used the ghost of Jack Ker­ouac to help sell khakis to desk jock­eys across the nation. That was odd. 20 years lat­er, Dewars has called upon Charles Bukows­ki, dead since 1994, to ped­dle Scotch. That makes com­plete sense. As you may recall, Bukows­ki once told Sean Penn in a 1987 Inter­view mag­a­zine piece: “Alco­hol is prob­a­bly one of the great­est things to arrive upon the earth — along­side of me. Yes…these are two of the great­est arrivals upon the sur­face of the earth. So…we get along.” Bukows­ki liked to drink. He also liked to talk about his mem­o­rable hang­overs. Dead or alive, Bukows­ki has the creds to sell Scotch.

As the Dewars ad rolls (above), you’ll hear lines from Bukowski’s poem “so you want to be a writer?” (below). And if you’re famil­iar with the poem, you’ll notice that the nar­ra­tion in the com­mer­cial is abridged. They’ve removed var­i­ous lines refer­ring to the writ­ing life, mak­ing it so that the nar­ra­tion speaks to a broad­er audi­ence. Rock climbers. Motor­cy­cle mechan­ics. Musi­cians. Jour­nal­ists. Peo­ple who aspire — or need to be inspired — to “live true.”

Two quick notes: If I’m not mis­tak­en, you can hear the same voice in the clips above and below. That would make it the voice of “Tom O’Bed­lam,” who runs the Spo­ken Verse chan­nel on YouTube. Also, you can view a Span­ish ver­sion of the Dewars ad here.

Relat­ed Resources: 

So You Want to Be a Writer?: Charles Bukows­ki Explains the Dos & Don’ts

Charles Bukows­ki Tells the Sto­ry of His Worst Hang­over Ever

“Don’t Try”: Charles Bukowski’s Con­cise Phi­los­o­phy of Art and Life

550 Free Audio Books: Down­load Great Books for Free

Drink­ing with William Faulkn­er

Read More...

Watch Audio Ammunition: A Documentary Series on The Clash and Their Five Classic Albums

The Clash are big in music news again with the arrival of their box set Sound Sys­tem, which Mick Jones promis­es will be their final offi­cial release of all time. Jones also tells The Guardian it’s the “best box set ever,” and I just might believe it. It’s cer­tain­ly one of the coolest look­ing. The band’s music holds up per­fect­ly well; in fact it’s tak­en on renewed rel­e­vance as so much of the cul­tur­al and eco­nom­ic con­flicts they wrote in response to have emerged like zom­bies from the grave to tor­ment us again (this time, per­haps, pace Marx, as zom­bie farce).

In light of their renewed rel­e­vance, Google brings us a five-part doc­u­men­tary series on the band, called Audio Ammu­ni­tion, and it looks fan­tas­tic.

Each part cov­ers the mak­ing of their five clas­sic stu­dio albums (exclud­ing 1985’s mis­guid­ed Cut the Crap). Here’s Google’s offi­cial descrip­tion:

In this exclu­sive doc­u­men­tary fea­tur­ing nev­er-before-seen footage of the late, great Joe Strum­mer, all four mem­bers of “the only band that mat­ters” walk us through the mak­ing of each of their clas­sic albums. New­ly re-mas­tered ver­sions of those albums are avail­able below, along with a new hits col­lec­tion based on the set list from one of Joe’s favorite gigs. Plus, four con­tem­po­rary bands inspired by the Clash’s lega­cy offer their own takes on the band’s songs. If you already love the Clash, watch and lis­ten and we guar­an­tee you’ll hear some­thing new. If you don’t, you’ll hear why you should.

See Part One, “The Clash,” at the top and part 2, “Give ‘Em Enough Rope,” above, and below find part 3, “Lon­don Call­ing,” part 4, “San­din­ista,” and part 5, “Com­bat Rock.” And vis­it the Google Play site for the film and to find oth­er good­ies like Kurt Vile’s fuzzed-out take on “The Guns of Brix­ton” and oth­er exclu­sive cov­ers of Clash songs by con­tem­po­rary artists. The doc­u­men­tary series will be added to our col­lec­tion of 575 Free Movies Online.

Lon­don Call­ing

San­din­ista

Com­bat Rock

via Boing Boing

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Sur­viv­ing Mem­bers of The Clash Recount the Mak­ing of “Lon­don Call­ing” & Dis­cuss New Box Set

Doc­u­men­tary Viva Joe Strum­mer: The Sto­ry of the Clash Sur­veys the Career of Rock’s Beloved Front­man

The Clash: West­way to the World

Mick Jones Plays Three Clas­sics by The Clash at the Pub­lic Library

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

Read More...

Death of An Adjunct: A Sobering, True Story

DuquesneChapel

The Pitts­burgh Post-Gazette ran a sad and galling sto­ry yes­ter­day about Mary Mar­garet Vojtko who died of a heart attack at the age of 83. At the time of her death, Daniel Kova­lik writes:

She was receiv­ing radi­a­tion ther­a­py for the can­cer that had just returned to her, she was liv­ing near­ly home­less because she could not afford the upkeep on her home, which was lit­er­al­ly falling in on itself, and now, she explained, she had received anoth­er indig­ni­ty — a let­ter from Adult Pro­tec­tive Ser­vices telling her that some­one had referred her case to them say­ing that she need­ed assis­tance in tak­ing care of her­self.

Vojtko had end­ed up in pover­ty after spend­ing 25 years work­ing as an adjunct pro­fes­sor of French at Duquesne Uni­ver­si­ty, a Catholic school locat­ed in Pitts­burgh, Pa. Until she was ter­mi­nat­ed last spring, she worked “on a con­tract basis from semes­ter to semes­ter, with no job secu­ri­ty, no ben­e­fits and with a salary of between $3,000 and just over $3,500 per three-cred­it course.” When teach­ing three class­es a semes­ter and two dur­ing the sum­mer, Vojtko nev­er earned more than $25,000 a year. (A pit­tance com­pared to the pay pack­age of Duques­ne’s pres­i­dent — report­ed­ly about $700,000 per year in salary and ben­e­fits.) Mean­while, Duquesne thwart­ed attempts by adjuncts to union­ize, claim­ing that the school should have a reli­gious exemp­tion.

As Kova­lik goes on to note: “Adjuncts now make up well over 50 per­cent of the fac­ul­ty at col­leges and uni­ver­si­ties.” And that sta­tis­tic is bound to increase. You can — and should — read the full sto­ry at the Post-Gazette. Read Death of an Adjunct here.

via @stevesilberman

Read More...

Vladimir Nabokov’s Delightful Butterfly Drawings

NabokovInscription1

We don’t often talk about the hob­bies (oth­er than drink­ing, any­way) of respect­ed twen­ti­eth-cen­tu­ry writ­ers. But do you know a sin­gle Nabokov read­er, or even an aspir­ing Nabokov read­er, igno­rant of the lep­i­dopter­ist lean­ings of the author of Loli­ta, The Gift, and Pale Fire?  The man liked but­ter­flies, as any of the wide­ly seen pho­tographs of him wield­ing his com­i­cal­ly over­sized net can attest. But when his eyes turned toward these strik­ing, del­i­cate insects, he did­n’t nec­es­sar­i­ly put down his pen. Nabokov’s wife Vera, accord­ing to a Book­tryst post on the sale of his book and man­u­script col­lec­tions, “trea­sured nature, art, and life’s oth­er intan­gi­bles more high­ly than mate­r­i­al pos­ses­sions, and Vladimir knew that for Christ­mas, birth­days and anniver­saries” — in Mon­treux in 1971, Itha­ca in 1957, Los Ange­les in 1960, or any­where at any time in their life togeth­er  — “Vera appre­ci­at­ed his thought­ful and del­i­cate but­ter­fly draw­ings much more than some trin­ket. She  delight­ed in these draw­ings in a way she nev­er did for the land­scapes he used to paint for her in ear­li­er days.” For the woman clos­est to his heart, Nabokov drew the crea­tures clos­est to his heart.

NabokovInscription2

“From the age of sev­en, every­thing I felt in con­nec­tion with a rec­tan­gle of framed sun­light was dom­i­nat­ed by a sin­gle pas­sion. If my first glance of the morn­ing was for the sun, my first thought was for the but­ter­flies it would engen­der.” This he declares in his auto­bi­og­ra­phy Speak, Mem­o­ry. “I have hunt­ed but­ter­flies in var­i­ous climes and dis­guis­es: as a pret­ty boy in knicker­bock­ers and sailor cap; as a lanky cos­mopoli­tan expa­tri­ate in flan­nel bags and beret; as a fat hat­less old man in shorts.” Despite the pas­sion with which Nabokov pur­sued lep­i­doptery, it seemed, in his life­time, his accom­plish­ments in the field would remain most­ly non-pro­fes­sion­al; he began one book called But­ter­flies of Europe and anoth­er called But­ter­flies in Art, but fin­ished nei­ther.

But in 2000, out came the 782-page Nabokov’s But­ter­flies, which col­lects, as its co-edi­tor Bri­an Boyd writes in the Atlantic, “his aston­ish­ing­ly diverse writ­ing about but­ter­flies, whether sci­en­tif­ic or artis­tic, pub­lished or unpub­lished, care­ful­ly fin­ished or rough­ly sketched, in poems, sto­ries, nov­els, mem­oirs, sci­en­tif­ic papers, lec­tures, notes, diaries, let­ters, inter­views, dreams.” And in 2011, a hypoth­e­sis he had about but­ter­fly evo­lu­tion had its vin­di­ca­tion under the Roy­al Soci­ety of Lon­don. But to under­stand how much but­ter­flies meant to him, we need look no fur­ther than the title pages of the vol­umes he gave his wife.

NabokovInscription3

via Book Tryst

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Vladimir Nabokov Cre­ates a Hand-Drawn Map of James Joyce’s Ulysses

Vladimir Nabokov Mar­vels Over Dif­fer­ent Loli­ta Book Cov­ers

Vladimir Nabokov (Chan­nelled by Christo­pher Plum­mer) Teach­es Kaf­ka at Cor­nell

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

Read More...

Train Your Brain This Fall with Free Online Courses, eBooks, Audio Books, Language Lessons & More

bigstock-Brain-2819159

For years now, the buzz­word “Neu­ro­plas­tic­i­ty” has crossed the lips of many major thinkers in psy­chol­o­gy, neu­rol­o­gy, and edu­ca­tion­al the­o­ry. Maybe, as some allege, it is a “dirty word”—vague and in need of spe­cif­ic clar­i­fi­ca­tion. Maybe. But the con­texts in which it aris­es point to an impor­tant idea: that we are capa­ble of learn­ing new things, all the time, at any stage of life, and that those new learn­ing expe­ri­ences change and renew our brains in ways we can’t pre­dict or imag­ine. So today, for those stu­dents return­ing to school and those life­long learn­ers for whom every sea­son beck­ons with new oppor­tu­ni­ties to acquire new skills and knowl­edge, we present to you our col­lec­tions of free online cours­es, books, films, lan­guage lessons, text­books, and oth­er resources to exer­cise your neu­ro­plas­tic mind.

Free Online Cours­es: This list brings togeth­er over 750 free online cours­es from lead­ing uni­ver­si­ties, includ­ing Stan­ford, Yale, MIT, UC Berke­ley, Oxford and more. These cours­es range across all dis­ci­plines – his­to­ry, physics, phi­los­o­phy, psy­chol­o­gy and beyond. Most all of these cours­es are avail­able in audio, and rough­ly 75% are avail­able in video. In total, you will find over 2o,000 hours of free lec­tures from world-class insti­tu­tions here.

Free MOOCs: What­ev­er you’re into (phi­los­o­phy?, behav­ioral eco­nom­ics?, music his­to­ry?), you’ll like­ly find a MOOC (Mas­sive Open Online Course) to suit you in our list of class­es from lead­ing uni­ver­si­ties. Many MOOCs offer cer­tifi­cates of com­ple­tion (though rarely course cred­its that will actu­al­ly trans­fer to uni­ver­si­ties). 125 MOOCs will be launch­ing between now and the end of Octo­ber. See our com­plete list.

Free Lan­guage Lessons: Per­haps learn­ing a new lan­guage is high on your list this fall. Well, here is a great way to do it. Take your pick of 46 lan­guages includ­ing, Span­ish, French, Ital­ian, Man­darin, Eng­lish, Russ­ian, Dutch, even Finnish, Yid­dish and Esperan­to. The lessons are all free and ready to down­load.

Free Audio Books: What bet­ter way to spend your free time than lis­ten­ing to some of the great­est books ever writ­ten? Our col­lec­tion 1,000 Free Audio Books: Down­load Great Books for Free includes works by Arthur Conan Doyle, James Joyce, Jane Austen, Edgar Allan Poe, George Orwell and more recent writ­ers — Ita­lo Calvi­no, Vladimir Nabokov, Ray­mond Carv­er, etc. You can down­load these clas­sic books straight to your gagdets, then lis­ten as you go.

[Note: If you’re look­ing for a con­tem­po­rary book, you can down­load one free audio book from Audible.com. Find details on Audi­ble’s no-strings-attached deal here.]

Free eBooks: You have always want­ed to read the great works. And now is your chance. When you dive into our col­lec­tion of 800 Free eBooks for iPad, Kin­dle & Oth­er Devices you will find great works by some clas­sic writ­ers (Dick­ens, Dos­to­evsky, Shake­speare and Tol­stoy) and more mod­ern writ­ers (F. Scott Fitzger­ald, Philip K. Dick, Isaac Asi­mov, and Kurt Von­negut). The col­lec­tion also gives you access to the 51-vol­ume Har­vard Clas­sics.

Free Text­books: We have scoured the web and pulled togeth­er a list of 150 Free Text­books. It’s a great resource par­tic­u­lar­ly if you’re look­ing to learn math, com­put­er sci­ence or physics on your own. There might be a dia­mond in the rough here for you.

Free K‑12 Resources: Par­ents, teach­ers, and young stu­dents seek­ing excel­lent free online edu­ca­tion­al resources, look no fur­ther. We’ve gath­ered free apps, qual­i­ty YouTube chan­nels; test prep mate­ri­als; and free web resources in aca­d­e­m­ic sub­jects like lit­er­a­ture, his­to­ry, sci­ence and com­put­ing.

Free Movies: With a click of a mouse, or a tap of your touch screen, you will have access to 500 great movies. The col­lec­tion hosts many clas­sics, west­erns, indies, doc­u­men­taries, silent films and film noir favorites. It fea­tures work by some of our great direc­tors (Alfred Hitch­cock, Orson Welles, Andrei Tarkovsky and David Lynch) and per­for­mances by cin­e­ma leg­ends: John Wayne, Jack Nichol­son, Audrey Hep­burn, Char­lie Chap­lin, and beyond. On this one page, you will find thou­sands of hours of cin­e­ma bliss.

Enjoy stretch­ing your brains in new and inter­est­ing ways this sea­son.

Read More...

David Lynch Lists His Favorite Films & Directors, Including Fellini, Wilder, Tati & Hitchcock

At least a few of you — more than a few, I’d wager — think of David Lynch as your favorite film­mak­er. Back when we post­ed about the great­est films of all time as named by Stan­ley Kubrick, Mar­tin Scors­ese, Woody Allen, and Quentin Taran­ti­no, you prob­a­bly won­dered what selec­tions the Eraser­head auteur would make. You can get an idea from the inter­view clip above, in which Lynch con­sid­ers the ques­tions “Whose work do you admire?” and “What movies have you watched over and over and could still watch a hun­dred times more?” Well-asked, since the movies we actu­al­ly watch most often reveal more about us than the movies we hap­pen to call “favorites.” “I love Stan­ley Kubrick,” he replies. “I can watch his movies over and over. I love Bil­ly Wilder, Sun­set Boule­vard in par­tic­u­lar, and I’ve watched it over and over. I loved the world Bil­ly Wilder cre­at­ed.”

“I love Felli­ni,” Lynch con­tin­ues. “Watched ’em over and over. If you want to see some great come­dies, check out Jacques Tati’s Mr. Hulot’s Hol­i­day. I like W.C. Fields. I like the movie It’s a Gift. I like Hitch­cock, par­tic­u­lar­ly Rear Win­dow.” And after a moment of reflec­tion: “I like a lot of dif­fer­ent film­mak­ers, but those are… some of them.” MUBI.com also offers a post on Lynch’s favorite films, drawn from Lynch on Lynch, Chris Rod­ley’s book-length inter­view with the direc­tor, and Catch­ing the Big Fish, Lynch’s own vol­ume on med­i­tat­ing your way to inter­est­ing ideas.

Here he pro­vides more details on his fel­low film­mak­ers of choice:

  • In 8½, “Felli­ni man­ages to accom­plish with film what most­ly abstract painters do – name­ly, to com­mu­ni­cate an emo­tion with­out ever say­ing or show­ing any­thing in a direct man­ner, with­out ever explain­ing any­thing, just by a sort of sheer mag­ic.”
  • In Sun­set Boule­vard, Wilder “man­ages to accom­plish pret­ty much the same abstract atmos­phere, less by mag­ic than through all sorts of styl­is­tic and tech­ni­cal tricks. The Hol­ly­wood he describes in the film prob­a­bly nev­er exist­ed, but he makes us believe it did, and he immers­es us in it, like a dream.”
  • Mon­sieur Hulot’s Hol­i­day wins his favor “for the amaz­ing point of view that Jacques Tati casts at soci­ety through it. When you watch his films, you real­ize how much he knows about – and loved – human nature, and it can only be an inspi­ra­tion to do the same.”
  • Rear Win­dow does the same “for the bril­liant way in which Alfred Hitch­cock man­ages to cre­ate – or rather, re-cre­ate – a whole world with­in con­fined para­me­ters. James Stew­art nev­er leaves his wheel­chair dur­ing the film, and yet, through his point of view, we fol­low a very com­plex mur­der scheme. Hitch­cock man­ages to take some­thing huge and con­dense it into some­thing real­ly small. And he achieves that through a com­plete con­trol of film mak­ing tech­nique.”

Com­mu­ni­cat­ing with­out direct­ly say­ing, show­ing, or explain­ing? Craft­ing abstract atmos­phere? Evok­ing a dream­like ver­sion of Hol­ly­wood? Cast­ing an eye on soci­ety that sees things dif­fer­ent­ly? Cre­at­ing worlds in tight con­fines? Seems to me, as some­one who’s expe­ri­enced more than his share of screen­ings of such films as Eraser­head, Blue Vel­vet, Lost High­way, and Mul­hol­land Dri­ve, that you could ascribe new ver­sions of not one but all of these cin­e­mat­ic ten­den­cies to Lynch him­self. We call imi­ta­tion the sin­cer­est form of flat­tery, but sure­ly it counts as a whole oth­er order of com­pli­ment to take the accom­plish­ments of the cre­ators who inspire you and some­how make them com­plete­ly your own. It takes, as the man says, a sort of sheer mag­ic.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The 10 Great­est Films of All Time Accord­ing to 846 Film Crit­ics

David Lynch Talks About His 99 Favorite Pho­tographs at Paris Pho­to 2012

David Lynch Explains How Med­i­ta­tion Enhances Our Cre­ativ­i­ty

David Lynch’s Sur­re­al Com­mer­cials

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

Read More...

Quantcast