In the Labyrinth

Memory and Storytelling: What We Lose, What We Imagine, What We Steal

While researching, I came across a terrific article Speak, Memory by neurologist Oliver Sacks and the lovely animated film above of Billy Collin's poem "Forgetfulness" that have me thinking about the role of memory in storytelling --not merely as an exercise in memoir -- but more importantly fulfilling a deeply embedded need to tell stories. We learn quickly to construct narrative in answer to almost any question about our day, our life, or our work. But according to neurologist Oliver Sacks, we really become creative with narrating long term memories -- giving them shape and form, creating dialogue, selecting images to emphasize how we feel emotionally about those memories. But we also appropriate memories that are not our own -- and braid them into our memories because the additional information makes better stories. "Memory," Sacks says, "is dialogic and arises not only from direct experience but from the intercourse of many minds." And like the paradox of fiction, our memories into story are both lies and truth. And then there is the opposite, as the Collin's poem suggests, grief at the loss of memory because it leaves us with fewer words and impairs our ability to tell stories.

 

Lotte Reiniger: Silhouette Fairy Tale Films

I am totally gobsmacked by German artist Lotte Reiniger's gorgeous black papercuts that she used to make silhouette animated fantasy films as well as beautiful book illustrations (when money could not be found for the films). Her work spans some 60 years (from 1919 to 1979), the early work developed in Germany, then later after the war she settled in London where she continued her work on short animated films and illustrations. Among her prodigious body of work, she created the first feature length animated film The Adventures of Achmed (far ahead of Disney!), an animated version of Dr. Dolittle and the Talking Animals, and a series of short films from Grimm's fairy tales. In the 30's while fleeing Nazi Germany, she managed to make 12 films -- including the lovely version of "Papageno" from Mozart's opera The Magic Flute. 

Much of her work can still be found on the internet (oh happy magpie that I am); and there are wonderful examples of work done by contemporary film students in imitation of Reiniger's style as they learn the skill of silhouette animation. 

To Hell with a Handbag.

Probably because my status has shifted from mother to um...crone (even though I don't have the long white braid wrapped around my head like a secret ninja whip -- wouldn't that be cool? )...I have been rediscovering with a new found pleasure all those story variants of the old woman who went to hell and then was sent back again after beating the imps sore, or returned on her own persistence after deciding she would remain for eternity wherever the hell she pleased. Often the women of these stories are harsh, old battle axes, though in the example of the indomitable Dowager of Downton Abbey, they do have all the best lines. 

And this is why I love this little film, "Not Without My Handbag" -- creepy and wonderful -- where the crone is a fashionable Auntie determined to remain so, despite being summoned to hell for a late payment on her "Dante Wash and Spin" washing machine. This is an early film from the very talented studio of Aardman Animations and it's elegantly charming -- the Devil even speaks with a French accent. 

 

I also like that the handbag has become one of those iconic accessories for the modern crone/grandmother. There's always a dollar or two, a hankie, a piece of candy, something to appease a beloved child regardless of age, and in some tales, the handbag is a bottomless source of magic (ala Mary Poppins.) My daughter watched this film as a child and discovered the cure for terror was the handbag -- of which she had many and as a child-crone in training, wielded it like a weapon if she felt threatened. And of course, there is Margaret Thatcher's infamous handbag which seemed to rule with a power of its own, causing her ministers to declare they had been "handbagged" when they felt sideswiped, and once before a meeting when Thatcher had set her bag down on the podium, but had left the room for a moment, a minister quipped "Why don’t we start? The handbag is here." 

All this has got me thinking, I need to work on getting just the right handbag to keep me out of hell. 

Raymond Carver: This Morning

Here is a beautiful video and reading of Raymond Carver's somber poem "This Morning." The poem is read by Alessio Morglia and illustrated and animated by Alessandro Ferraro.

"All the things / I hoped would go away this morning. / The stuff I live with every day. What / I've trampled on in order to stay alive."

     

The Return: Beautiful New Animation

This is a lovely piece of animation from Russian animator Ekaterinburg Natacha Černyšovo who studied animation in France. It is so charming and delightful. It has been a few years since I first saw this little video, and in between my first posting and now re-posting, I have become a grandmother, which has made this film all the sweeter. 

 

In Praise of the Hedgehog

I have been madly in love with the recent offerings of hedgehog marginalia from Medieval Animal Data Network. These adorable looking creatures, are often rendered in the rich golden and red hues of fall, and harvesting grapes (despoiling the vineyards) using their spines like cocktail toothpicks. But most wonderful of all...a group of artists got together and created an animated film of the hedgehog in action, based on the art and narrated in Latin. Totally awesome. 

De Herinacio. On the Hedgehog from obrazki nunu on Vimeo.

 

 

 

 

 

Sources from Top to Bottom: Rochester Bestiary, England c. 1230; J. Paul Getty Trust, Unknown 
English, about 1250 - 1260; Book of Hours of Charlotte of Savoy created in Paris, France, in the 15th century. New York, The Pierpont Morgan Library, Ms. M. 1004, fol. 82v; Bestiary- Therouanne, ca 1270;  Latin bestiary Cambridge, 1320.

Ukiyo-e Heroes by Jed Henry and Dave Bull

I love this project by illustrator Jed Henry to take contemporary, iconic video game figures and render them in the traditional Ukiyo-e style of woodblock prints. They are beautiful -- combing the exquisite technique of Japanese print making and modern fantasy images. The worlds are not so far apart according to Henry -- who notes the similarity between the dynamic art of early Japanese video games and their predecessors in the pop culture of Ukiyo-e. Henry partnered with artist Dave Bull, who has spent the last 25 years in Japan working as a traditional woodblock printer and the results are a seamless mix of 18th century Japanese art and the unexpected modern hero.

It's an amazing video and an amazing project -- and apparently, everyone else thought so too for the project was over funded at Kickstarter by around $290,000. Stop by the website to see the woodblock prints and giclee prints and learn more about Henry, Bell, and watch videos on how the prints are created.