Endless Knots

Now I understand why I (almost) always wear black

In completely uncharacteristic fashion (so to speak, given the subject of this post), I went to a film on opening night: Coco Before Chanel. The line down 58th Street in New York was long and studded with people in pretty outfits, and although I wouldn't call his outfit pretty also in line was the former mayor, Ed Koch. Perfect venue, of course, for a film about the life of Coco Chanel, right around the corner from Bergdorf and such.

I'm not offering a review here, except to say this: people who make themselves, in this case close to literally from whole cloth, are deserve to have films made about them. Coco Chanel's story is improbable--orphaned, poor, and starting from nothing, and fascinating/sad/inspiring, all three in about equal proportions. Go see it and tell me if these scenes stick with you too: her designing a simple black dress for herself then dancing in it with the man she loves while all the other women are in white and froufrou and her sitting on the stairs in a classic Chanel suit at the close of her first fashion show, remembering her life.

Scene 3: Cloudy with a chance of surgery

One entrance to "the hospital," in fact a network of interconnected buildings and organizations, as well as two medical schools, has a very large lobby. Very large. There's a performance space toward the back of it, facing out to the children's garden.

Every few days, something is going on there. Sometimes temporary walls go up and something mysterious goes on behind them. I attempt to peer in but instantly feel intrusive and proceed along to the elevators.

On two occasions, I've gotten my gumption up and just snapped a shot or two. A few days ago, a big hullabaloo was underway and then I noticed the name of one of my (and, more importantly, my daughters') favorite children's books, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, in huge cardboard cutout letters, hanging from the ceiling.

 

Later that afternoon, I noticed a red carpet laid down in front of a conference room off the lobby, and behind the temporary walls, a dinner set-up, round tables with red-and-white checkered tablecloths, where, obviously, spaghetti and meatballs would be served. Apparently, there's a film (how would I know - I'm tracking just about nothing these days) premiere about to happen and somehow the hospital had something to do with it. Clearly, I haven't gotten to the bottom of it but I sure wish they'd invited me.

 

A couple of weeks ago, there was a different set-up in the lobby: scrubs for sale. The vendor looked hopeful when I approached to take a picture but unfortunately I'm not really in the market for scrubs.

NESHOBA: film premiere, Sun, Sept 14, 2008, Boston

I just received this email from my friend, David Goodman, left at Champions of Freedom event here in Boston this past May, about the premiere of "Neshoba," a film about the Mississippi county where his brother, Andrew Goodman, Michael Schwerner, and James Chaney, were murdered 40 years ago. I hope you can all come. David will be here for the showing.

To My Boston Friends:

Tony Pagano and Micki Dickoff  are proud to announce the world theatrical premiere of their  film NESHOBA at the Boston Film Festival on  Sunday, September 14th at 6  PM. The Andrew Goodman Foundation was a major source of funding for this 90 minutes documentary.

SYNOPSIS: Neshoba (As in Philadelphia, (Neshoba County), Mississippi)  tells the story of a  Mississippi town still divided  about the meaning of justice, 40 years after the murders of civil rights workers  James Chaney, Andrew Goodman and Michael Schwerner.  Although Klansmen bragged openly about  what they did in 1964, no one was held accountable until 2005, when the State  indicted Preacher Edgar Ray Killen, an 80-year-old notorious racist and alleged  mastermind of the killings. Killen was only one of the 18 known KKK members who constituted the vigilante posse who murdered these three young men..  Through  intimate interviews with the families of the victims, candid interviews with  black and white Neshoba County citizens, and  exclusive, first time, interviews with Killen, the film explores whether the  prosecution of one unrepentant Klansman constitutes justice and whether real  healing and reconciliation are possible without telling the unvarnished  truth.

If you plan to come, please get tickets in advance.  We would love you to be there to share  this special time with us.  And  please tell all your friends and family who live in  Boston to join us  too.

NESHOBA has also  been selected to screen at the New  York theatrical premiere at the New York International Independent Film & Video  Festival on Saturday, September 20th, at 6  PM and Indie Memphis and at the Ft. Lauderdale International Film Festival, both in October.   Please tell friends living in these cities to support our film.  We’re waiting to hear from other  festivals and will keep you updated on future  screenings.

BOSTON FILM FESTIVAL
Sunday,  September 14th at 6  PM 
Kendall Square Cinema
One  Kendall Square
Cambridge,  MA02139
(617) 499-1996 

On-line ticket  information:  www.landmarktheaters.com

Margaret Fullerenes - The Film - Friday, May 23

Delighted to share this good news: filmmakers Ron Mortara and Kim Romano will join our Margaret Fuller birthday gathering at Mount Auburn Cemetery this coming Friday, May 23 (meet inside front gates at 8 AM, then proceed to the Fuller lot on Pyrola Path).

Ron will film, Kim (check out the trailer for her film Muriel) will do sound. "We" [she smiles toward Ron] plan to make a very short film about this gathering. The "script" goes something like this: We'll take a quick tour of the Fuller graves, I'll read from Fuller's work, anyone moved to speak will do so, and we'll end with John Halamka playing a mourning song on his Shakuhachi (Japanese flute).

I had the chance to work with Ron three years ago on his film, The Beat. Ron used his knowledge as an ex-neurosurgeon for this imaginative piece in which a scientist discovers that the same part of the brain that recognizes rhythm is responsible for violence. In the film, I played the scientist's artist-wife. We filmed in my friend Emily's painting studio. Here's Ron on the set of The Beat.

For those who love water, whales, sailboats, and beautiful essays, you must see Ron's short, HUNGER ANGER LOVE PLAY, his meditation on what a whale might be thinking.

Local readers and those in Boston this Friday, please, all welcome to join.

"This little machine surrounds hate and forces it to surrender"

Photo by Karl Rabe/The Poughkeepsie Journal, December 5, 2004

My friend Jane rarely makes prescriptions but when we talked last week she gave me an Rx: Go see the Pete Seeger movie, this after I described the time we recently spent with the Dalai Lama. Now, to my knowledge, the Dalai Lama doesn't play the bango and Pete Seeger doesn't wear saffron robes but having seen Pete Seeger: The Power of Song, I understand the connection. Jane's preface to the advice was this:  clear light comes through both men, the power of conviction.

Documentaries of this sort can easily slip into paeans, genuflections to the great. This one doesn't. First, there's the music, the songs so familiar that they evoke sensations like those of your favorite childhood meal or, pushover that I am, tears. Next, there's the example of a person who believes in a way of being in the world and pursues it, not by stepping on people but by simply continuing. And there's the honesty: his wife of forty-million years, Toshi, says: "If only Pete had been chasing women rather then causes,  I could have left him." Anyone with a purpose-driven spouse understands.

Politcally persecuted (HUAC came after Seeger; he was blacklisted; and his career was ruined more than once), Seeger just kept singing. This post's title, "This little machine surrounds hate and forces it surrender," is lettered on Seeger's bango and explains what five strings and a big heart can do.

Children have been his greatest audience, a truth I must have absorbed without realizing it. I wrote a scene into a novel where Seeger gives a concert at the summer camp attended by the main character. (Truthfully, I've never heard him in person.)

Watching the film, an image kept recurring: To hire a bus and drive around to the houses of all my friends, load them in, and circle back to the theatre to watch this together. How old-fashioned when I can simply post here, have you click on the trailer and at least get a flavor. Don't miss this film--and don't be surprised if I show up at your door.

Personal note: Just as the singing was to begin at Carolyn Goodman's memorial service, her son David said that Pete Seeger had been planning to attend but was not feeling up to it. I never inquired what the problem was so I cannot report whether he is truly ailing or only had a cold but, at 88, this man has the strength of ten or a hundred.