Arkiv for kategorien 'English'

Photographic articles on the Internet usually concerns the technical aspects of photography, such as the latest CCD chip technology of certain camera producers or comparisons of f/1.4 lenses and f/1.8 lenses, or (if they are at all concerned with teaching photography) aperture values, lighting techniques, how slow shutter speeds will affect handheld exposures and so on. They all lack what’s the most important aspect of photography and what makes the difference between the digital photographs in exhibitions and what you see in one of the millions of Facebook snapshot galleries; how to make a good photograph.

Les mer »

McDonald’s at the Louvre. It sounds like something is wildly amiss. Like Pepsi and Coca-Cola joining hands to produce the worst-tasting diet cola ever. Louvre used to be a place where art lovers and enlightened people could seek refuge from the zombies that make up most of our modern society, but this proposal is seemingly the Louvre’s true way of appreciating the core of their friends.

Yes, the Louvre has decided it wants to have a tremendous crap on all of the art-loving world. Instead of allowing this McDonald’s restaurant (and even a McCafé) to set down outside, some hundred yards away, it has accepted them inside its buildings.

Frankly speaking, I feel betrayed. They charge an enormous amount of money to allow entrance after spending several hours in a tourist-infested line, and when you now finally gain entry you’re finding yourself at McDonald’s. It’s horrible and terrifying. And rude as well!

So. The Louvre has a lot to do. They’re losing their image as a cultural icon in favour of becoming Americanised and even more commercial than they already were. Why not install a decent French restaurant instead? Welcome to the first installment of the modern money-obsessed aspect of the art world. Botticelli, Michelangelo and Vermeer would spin malevolently in their graves if they knew. For ages.

Oh, and by the way; this text is a wee bit short due to having been written on an iPhone. Sorry!

More information: Telegraph Les mer »

I’m living in a town boasting a massive 10 000 citizens. We have eight cinemas, a three storey library, three gas stations, so many roundabouts you’ll get dizzy simply from counting them, five American-style bingos and no pubs. Not a single pub. We have a few restaurants and pizzerias where beer can be ordered, but no real pubs. Nowhere you can enter, ask for a beer, sit down with the paper and relax and leave. This is a problem.

Imagine you’re worn out, tired and lazy after a long day at work. You haven’t even had the time to take a bathroom break to read the news from yesterday and decide you should drown your sorrows with a cold pint of the golden brew while reading. Your choice? Order a £25 pizza on the side or read the paper accompanied by aggrotech music at 105dB with psychedelic teenagers jumping around you shouting “Come on, dude, party out with us. Look, Peter’s about to throw a chair at the bartender! Go Peter!!”. You can’t. You could take a beer home, or skip the whole thing and meet yet another miserable day without one.

Les mer »

Once upon a time… in Nazi-occupied France. Yes, it is indeed the opening of a fairytale. And what a fairytale it is that the wizard of dialogue serves us in Inglourious Basterds, even in several languages! It is partly dark, partly sinister and specked with an immense amount of humour, wits and irony, perhaps even more so than we’ve seen in previous Quentin Tarantino features.

In the opening scene, we meet the Nazi “Jew hunter” SS Colonel Hans Larda (Christian Waltz), who is suspecting French dairy farmer Perrier LaPadite (Denis Menochet) is hiding a family of Jews in his house. Opening with a long and, as usual, superbly written dialogue, this pretty much sets the pace for the feature as a whole. The tension is at times unbearable, and the subtle details some die hard Tarantino fans will pick up, makes this a movie for everyone to enjoy.

Les mer »

The clock sounded twelve times
as I awoke in my leather chair.
“Time to get to bed,” I thought,
arose, but something was there.
On the far end wall of the room,
I saw it, never later forgot;
a shadow on the wall before me,
as I moved, it moved not.

“Shoo! Thou art not real!” I shouted, when
a sudden coolness filled the room.
The intense darkness began to grow
in this hour of horror and gloom.
The clock stopped ticking,
but its ceasing was not all;
for during that silent second of cold,
the Shadow jumped to another wall.

“Begone, pest!” I hissed loudly
but the Shadow did not disappear.
I felt like trapped in this room of mine,
in the house I held so dear.
No sound could be heard, but
the chill I felt clearly stated nay;
it would not move, it would not hide
it would never go away.

To this day the house is still alit,
during all hours of the night.
Several lamps are constantly emitting
the brightest degree of light.
Still, the feeling of cold is present
even from far away.
And if you gaze upon the walls of despair,
the Shadow is still there today.

In the cold hours of the morn
I found you laying cold.
I knew it would be a day of mourn,
the last of a life so bold.

The night before, you were eager
to feel my warmth and love,
alas, gone was your vigour,
travelling to the above.

Your life was filled with wonder,
awake both day and night;
I will come see you yonder
when my time is right.

The last message you sent me
will never be forgot.
A moment which you lent me,
that I’ll relive a lot.

I wished for you to abide,
not to crack my hardened shell.
I was there by your side,
until your last heartbeat fell.

Thank you for your time, my friend,
you’ll always be with me.
Now a hole of pain I must fend,
until you again I’ll see.

Reality is nothing without the hope,
of those who treasure it.
Life sees people coming and going,
an endless circle of change.
Everybody gets their chance,
only a few will seize it.
Time pass into history,
future becomes present.
In the middle stands a person,
you among strangers.

The shape of an orange,
the sound of a storm.
Without hands or ears,
they cease to exist.
Rain dripping slowly
down your forehead.
The sun warming up the world,
the night cooling it down.
As we are all waiting for peace,
we know it will come.

There is an end to all happiness,
happiness in all sadness.
Inspiration to beget from
strange things you don’t know.
Ages want you to grasp it,
that is why you have fingers.
Time and place are here to help,
spread your wings out; fly
As you seize the opportunity,
a child’s hand reaches for Heaven.

From the darkness of the future do I call thee;
I lived among the people, free.
Surrounded by shadows, yet here I be!
Cold, blue fire, come walk with me.

I too have been touched by the Devilish One.
Loved by all, feared by some.
When I arrive nobody run,
still none were there, all were they gone.

Dancing around in a fire red suit,
blood is gathering on my boot.
In the darkness, held by a thorny root,
the first man never gets the loot.

Neste »