Haruki Murakami: The T-Shirts I Love. And Other Essays on Style

 

Haruki Murakami writing essays about his unpretentious collection of t-shirts, Charlie Porter taking us on a journey through what artists wear, and analysing an entire film from a sartorial point of view… That’s how complex style is. That’s how simple it is to understand its importance. I love an occasional writing on style and these three books listed below make for the best inspiration.

“The Japanese magazine Casa BRUTUS interviewed me about my record collection for a special edition”, begins Haruki Murakami the introduction to his book, The T-shirts I Love, “and when I happened to mention that I also kind of have a T-shirt collection, the editor asked me if I’s consider writing a series on that. So I went along with the idea, and over the curse of a year and a half, I wrote a series of essays spotlighting T-shirts in Popeye, a Japanese men’s fashion magazine published by the same company. These are the essays collected here in this volume. It isn’t like these are valuable T-shirts or anything, and I’m not claiming they have any particular artistic value. I simply bought out some old T-shirts I’m fond of, we took photos of them, and I added some short essays. That’s all there is to it. I doubt this book will be useful to anyone (much less being of any help in solving any of the myriad of problems we face at present), yet, that said, it could turn out to be meaningful, as a kind of reference on customs that later generations could read to get a picture of the simple clothes and fairly comfortable life one novelist enjoyed from the end of the twentieth century into the beginning of the twenty-first. But then again – maybe not. Either way works for me. I’m just hoping you can find some measure of enjoyment in this little collection.”

Murakami, who gave us Norwegian Wood and Kafka on the Shore, Murakami about whom Patti Smith writes in her A Book of Days that he “has said that there is no such thing as perfect writing, just as there is no such thing as perfect despair”, proclaiming him the “exquisitely imperfect Murakami”… Murakami writes about t-shirts as a thing he collects because he likes wearing them. There is not much to it, he says, but the simple simple act of choosing a T-shirt, time and again, I feel, could amount to more than that. They become tool for more freedom and richness. For a t-shirt in itself possesses ease and an effortless yet thoughtful disposition. The T-shirts are usually connected to other things the writer likes, like vinyl records and used-record shops, or his youth days of surfing, or simply because the lettering is nice. And just reading about each one of them can be simply fun, but can also become a reason to turn a mundane situation into a spontaneous moment of exhilaration.

“Most of us live our lives in our clothes without realising their power. But in the hands of artists, garments become pure tools of expression: canvases on which to show who we really are.” In What Artists Wear, writer and journalist Charlie Porter takes us on a liberating journey through the clothing of artists, whether at work or wherever, and the way their clothing relates to art, authenticity, freedom and power. Because in defining their aesthetic, artists discover themselves. “Denim is a fabric of commonality. It is clothing for an era in which the artist can be everybody. In jeans, an artist can disappear. Maybe this part of the book shouldn’t be ‘What Artists Wear’, but ‘What Artists Can Forget They Are Wearing’”, writes Porter. He continues: “‘Andy wore jeans every day,’ said Bob Colacello. He was talking about Andy Warhol. Colacello was Executive Editor of Interview magazine from 1974 to 1983, which had offices in Warhol’s New York studio, the Factory.” Haruki Murakami also mentions Warhol in his book, recounting how photographer Elena Seibert, who specialises in author photos, when Murakami showed up in one of his usual t-shirts with a design on it, showed him a photo of Truman Capote “in a solid grey T-shirt, and said: ‘Pretty nice, huh?’ and I had to agree. Ever since then I always wear solid-colour T-shirts to photo shoots.”

About Georgia O’Keefe, Porter writes: “In 1934, Georgia O’Keeffe stayed for the first time at Ghost Ranch, a 21,000-acre holding just west of Taos in New Mexico. She would come to spend her summers there, buying a small isolated residence on the ranch in 1940. Here she is hitching a ride to Abiquiu, a small town nearby. She is wearing Levi’s. The expression on her face says everything about how it must be to live and create within air and sky and land and horizon. Her jeans would have cost less than three bucks.”

I have written about Cary Grant’s Suit: Nine Movies That Made Me the Wreck I Am Today before, and with good reason. There are many good books about film that I have read, but this is by far one of my favourites (it is also beautiful to look at – how could it not be, bearing the title it does?). It has humour in it. Just like a good film (that is not a comedy) has humour in it (like Hitchcock’s). Just like life (amidst hardships, tragedy, rises and falls) has humour in it. Todd McEwen writes from a very personal point of view. Movies are truly woven into his life and it’s absolutely thrilling to read how he meanders through some of the movies that have marked him in one way or another. He makes you live the movies, make them part of life. A film lover just knows. And the way he writes about, yes, Cary Grant’s suit in North by Northwest, well, is the best writing about the most written about suit in the history of film.

 


 

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January Newsletter: The Boy and the Heron, the Camera as a Curious Child and The Adventure of the Copper Beeches

 
 

Photos: Classiq Journal

 

“Create films that help children feel glad that they’ve been born.”

Hayao Miyazaki

 
 

 

The Boy and the Heron, 2023
Hayao Miyazaki

“I believe that children’s souls are the inheritors of historical memory from previous generations,” Hayao Miyazaki said in an interview in 2005. “It’s just that as they grow older and experience the everyday world that memory sinks lower and lower. I feel I need to make a film that reaches down to that level. If I could do that, I would die happy.” In The Boy and the Heron, Mahito, a 12-year-old boy, is trying to settle into a new town and home after his mother’s death. But when he meets a talking heron, it will open a new world to him shared by both the living and the dead. The film is filled with such richness and complexity that can reach everyone from children to adults in the seemingly most simple way or in the deepest form of reflection. I couldn’t help feeling that the film can easily be perceived as a full-circle moment for the director, with so many of his films flashing through my eyes during the closing credits, but it’s Miyazaki’s wonderful sense of fantasy, always anew, always inviting us in, always opening our eyes in a myriad of ways, that will forever single out his films. And for children, his films should be the gate towards the world of cinema, and in part, maybe even into life. “As a child… I was trying to follow my parents’ will without any self-reflection. I wasn’t conscious of this, which is scary in itself. As I developed into a youth and young adult, I came to realise that I shouldn’t be just a good kid, that I should look at things with my own eyes and have independent ideas.” – From the book Hayao Miyazaki, by Jessica Niebel, Pete Doctor and Daniel Kothenschulte

 

Cerrar los ojos (Close Your Eyes), 2023
Victor Erice

A Spanish actor, Julio Arenas (José Coronado), disappears during the filming of a movie. After twenty years, a tv show brings new light into his disappearance and an investigation by the director of the film, Miguel Garay (Manolo Solo), Julio’s friend, brings us to the present day, to an adrift life, un uncertain future and the frailty of our memory. What also unfolds is a tribute to the magic of film. It speaks of something irreplaceable that is missing in the digital age, a more tactile film and movie-going experience, but also about how certain images can take permanent residence inside us even if life, loss, memory or old age is dragging away. Victor Erice’s film patiently, almost silently, informs about the profound power of movies. You almost miss it if you don’t pay attention. Maybe a movie can not bring out a miracle (a remark made by Miguel’s editor friend), maybe the future of cinema is dimmer than ever before, but we can sure still appreciate and revel in the irresistible beauty and power of movies whenever a film like Cerrar los ojos comes along. The camera should be used as if it were a curious child. Maybe our mind is like a curious child, too. When we stop using it as such, it may be lost forever.

 

Anatomy of a Fall, 2023
Justine Triet

A fearlessness performance from Sandra Hüller, who plays a writer who is a suspect in the death of her husband and an excellent, skillfully built courtroom drama, with a key scene coming (the only visual scene between Sandra and her husband) when you least expect it, a full blown clash when every possible issue between a wife and a husband, between a mother and a father, between a successful writer and a struggling writer, resurfaces.

 

Wonka (2023)
Paul King

I am always reticent to prequels, sequels, readaptations of stories that have been repeatedly told, and, quite frankly, to musicals, too. But watching Wonka with my son over the holidays was a feast. It’s spectacular, imaginative, immersive and truly wonderful. I love that we are introduced to a different character, a young, charming, kind Willy Wonka. As much as I love the worlds of Roald Dahl, which can so vividly and fully capture children’s attention and imagination, without ever restraining from frightening them, I loved this newly invented Willy Wonka impersonated by Timothée Chalamet.

 

Une vie de chat (A Cat in Paris), 2010
Jean-Loup Felicioli, Alain Gagnol

When everything seems to go in the same direction, and I am especially referring to Disney animated films, when you watch a film like Une vie de chat, you realise how much we have lost, creatively, emotionally, and our need to return to “more sensitive, more humane things”, as directors Alain Gagnol and Jean-Loup Felicioli remarked after their film’s release. With drawings made by hand, on paper, the old way (then scanned and transferred to computer for the finishing touches), the film is not only a celebration of traditional craftsmanship, but a good story about a cat that lives a double life, a pet for little Zoé by day and partner in crime for a burglar who uses the rooftops of Paris as escape routes by night, with a nice thrill of gangster films thrown in the mix.

 

 

Reading

“… I have heard, Mr Holmes, that you can see deeply into the manifold wickedness of the human heart…” The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes is, some say, the best collection of Arthur Conan Doyle’s short stories. I hadn’t read his stories since I was a child (captivated by everything Agatha Christie and everything classic crime novel), but I do agree that these are 12 wonderful short stories that have proven to be the best reading for the bright and crisp winter mornings between the years. The only thing missing was “the snow of the day before” to “still lay deep upon the ground” (The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet).

 

“They always fill me with a certain horror. It is my belief, Watson, founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the smiling and beautiful countryside.”

“You horrify me!” (The Adventure of the Copper Beeches)

 

Listening

The soundtrack: Wonka , with music by Joby Talbot and Neil Hannon

The album: Going Back Home, Wilko Johnson and Roger Daltrey

 

Making

Sézane x Pangea, a beautiful collaboration. Sézane is so good to add “a twist to a classical and timeless outfit, with a nice detail, a special material”, as its founder Morgane Sézalory told me some years ago, when Sézane was just starting out. What’s more important, their clothes simply look great on.

 

Exploring

Douglas Kirkland: A Life in Pictures photography exhibition at the Fahey Klein Gallery. The street colour photography (the feel, the freedom, the classic Americana – my favourite must be the one with Sigourney Weaver), those special black and white shots of Marilyn, the fabulous photos of Brigitte Bardot, which seem to allow us into the world of a star being born, and the most beautiful photograph of Meryl Street and Robert Redford on the set of Out of Africa. Douglas Kirkland captured so well the times, the glamour, the individuality of everyone he photographed.

 

The regulars: The interviews, newsletters and podcasts I turn to every week and/or every month because they are that good. Craig Mod’s newsletters: Roden and Ridgeline. Soundtracking, with Edith Bowman. The MUBI Podcast. Alicia Kennedy’s newsletter. Gone to Timbuktu, Sophy Robert’s podcast on the art of travel. Wachstumsversuche, with Sarah Schill. Sirene, Racquet, and Yolo Journal, all in print.

 

Akiko Stehrenberger’s brilliant poster for “Anatomy of a Fall” (look closer for details)

 

Posted by classiq in Books, Culture, Film, Newsletter | | Comments Off on January Newsletter: The Boy and the Heron, the Camera as a Curious Child and The Adventure of the Copper Beeches

“Les vacances d’Irina Is All My Vulnerabilities, All My Beliefs and All My Dreams”: In Conversation with Irina Moroșanu

Photo: Les vacances d’Irina

 

Les Vacances d’Irina: a timeless pact between a brand and its founder’s name. I can not think of Irina Moroșanu and Les vacances d’Irina but as one.

A brand like a poem. A life’s choice. She’s the Peter Pan who got away with growing up and figuring out what to do with his life. In an eternally childlike way, Irina seems to always create thinking “do something that you love”. Her creativity always anew, her imagination always in motion propelling her forward, her mind meandering wherever it needs to go, her courage without limit in being herself and nobody else. I can understand how Irina’s tender language can survive in each of her creations. Timeless elegance with a twinkle in its eye.

Clothes that reflect the spirit of the maker, but also of the wearer, with Irina’s personal style evolving into that of every woman who does not want to look like everybody else on the street. It expresses a high claim to individuality. It is a claim to quality that goes beyond the material, processing and design of clothing, it is a claim that includes values. That’s why when I speak of Les vacances d’Irina, it’s a story bigger than clothes that seamlessly resurfaces, it’s clothes that breath, speak and inspire stories, it’s a life’s vision. It’s a rare elegance, simplicity, intelligence, passion and class.

Made in Romania, Irina’s creations champion artisanal skills to carry on a timeless, glamorous style. There’s art behind these clothes. The art of cutting a fabric, but also the art of true elegance, the art of being yourself. Every great brand has a few items that shape its basic style, and yet, Les vacances d’Irina seems to have managed to achieve this unitary vision, each new piece instantly finding a voice and becoming part of the brand’s aesthetic and identity. Each new and old at the same time. Irina’s modesty, unconscious flair and quiet elegance stem from a deep understanding of life and of the self.

Les Vacances d’Irina sells in very select shops around the world, from Tokyo to London to Bucharest to Antiparos. But Irina wears her success lightly. And more than hardwork and craftsmanship, it’s her attention to detail and to those around her that ignites this worldwide recognition. Light and details perfect each dress, cape, velvet sack, skirt or blouse. Despite her success, there is a mystery that lingers around Irina and her creations. Les vacances d’Irina is unequivocally Irina Moroșanu, but each creation, each design leaves room for the imagination and for the personality of each wearer, just like a good children’s book, artfully illustrated, leaves room to each reader to create their own little universe within its pages.

I wanted to end the year with something special and I am happy and grateful to have Irina as my guest today.

 

Photos: Les vacances d’Irina

 

The 2010s: the birth of a name and a brand. What is the story behind that name and what was the defining moment for creating Les Vacances d’Irina?

It was January 2018 January when the brand started. Les vacances d’Irina was initially inspired by a wicker basket found in a French flea market and a sailor collar. Our vision was to revive the essence of leisurely Mediterranean vacations, reminiscent of days gone by.

The name was born during an evening stroll through the city – a serendipitous moment when something greater than anticipated took shape.

 
 

“This brand is an extension of myself,
it is all my vulnerabilities, all my beliefs and all my dreams.”

 
 

Your designs reflect a very unique point of view, a feeling of freedom and individuality, embodying an unwitting and fresh temperament. And although there are many independent fashion brands out there who do their own thing, yours (and I’d rather use the word clothing, or design, instead of fashion when in comes to Les Vacances d’Irina) feels so distinctively personal and truly revolutionary. A stylist, as well as a storyteller. I feel there is a well of inspiration behind your designs and aesthetics. Can you talk a little about that?

Thank you! I am deeply touched to read this. You had me at “I’d rather use the word clothing, or design, instead of fashion when in comes to Les Vacances d’Irina”. The choice to define Les Vacances d’Irina as more than just “fashion,” but rather as clothing, design, it’s a compliment and it’s true – it reflects an intention for something deeper, more enduring.

We never wanted to be trendy, we never wanted to do things that are easy to sell – we wanted to communicate this aesthetic of slow living and modesty, a state of a modest luxury through our stitches, to our fabrics, to our easiness.

This brand is an extension of myself, it is all my vulnerabilities, all my beliefs and all my dreams. When my creations come alive, they transform into something more exquisite in motion, akin to a dance of liberation. I see them like waves, flowing and breathing, inviting you to embrace yourself in the graceful movement.

 

Photos: Les vacances d’Irina

 

Portrait of a woman. “To get to where I am, you have to go back to where I came from,” someone once said. Does that ring true to you?

For me, it resonates deeply. Progress often demands a return to our roots, the very essence of our being. There is no chance to move forward if we don’t go back. Back to the roots, back to what made us.

I am all the experiences that I have lived since I was born – I am a lover of the light precisely because when I was little, the way light fell on things was a consolation in so many tough moments.

My mother used to write poems…I adore poetry now. I call my designs, poetry. I think that there are some very powerful values that are deeply imprinted in our DNA and I think we have to observe them carefully and to catch them in the exact right moment, otherwise we will loose them as you lose the snowflakes when you hold them in your hand. To keep them and to take care of these values, sensitivities, the raw fragments of our souls — be it sorrow, rage, or healing – is pivotal. All these, in the creative process, they mean everything. Without them, you will never be able to create.

 
 

“There is no chance to move forward if we don’t go back.
Back to the roots, back to what made us.”

 
 

Your ability to create truly seems ingrained in your DNA, and I say it with the most sincere and revelatory feeling. You seem passionately rooted in things with beauty and meaning, and your brand, the clothes you create reflect that. Did you consciously choose making clothes, instead of any other artistic field, as a way to best express yourself?

Thank you for your kind words.
The choice to create clothing wasn’t so much a conscious decision as it was a natural evolution. Clothing became the canvas on which I could paint my vision of a lifestyle, of values and experiences. It wasn’t just about the fabric; it was about crafting an experience, a feeling of nostalgia, a connection to moments and places.

In a way, clothing allowed me to merge my love for aesthetics, storytelling, and the tactile nature of design. It felt like the perfect medium to communicate the essence of slow living and modest luxury that I envisioned.

 

Photos: Les vacances d’Irina

 

I love what you said about the light. The way you communicate your brand image with light makes me think of the basics of photography, drawing with light. Often when I see how you style or model one of your items of clothing I get the feeling it is conceived in perfect accordance with how the light falls, a chance to create something visual that you never take for granted. Do you think of these settings filled with storytelling from the moment the idea of a garment inspires you?

These settings, these natural events, serve as my endless inspiration. Each item sparks a vision not just of its design but of the diverse canvases life offers. It’s a natural dance of clothing and nature’s ever-changing light. I envision in my mind, how each creation harmonizes with the light graciously.

 
 

”I call my designs, poetry.”

 
 

Who is the Les Vacances d’Irina woman?

Les Vacances d’Irina woman is every woman!

She carries a natural ease while embracing the beautiful chaos that comes with being a woman.

 

Photos: Les vacances d’Irina

 

Les Vacances d’Irina… Have you always been curious about other places? Has any, besides the flea market in France, served as a source of creation more than others?

Les Vacances d’Irina finds its heartbeat in the Mediterranean’s simplicity, the purity of Greek islands’ whites, the vibrant hues of the Italian coasts, and the romance of French destinations.

While firstly inspired by a French flea market, this brand’s innocence and inspiration spring from the diverse beauty of these places. Each design aims to echo the essence of these idyllic locales, capturing their colours, romance, and effortless charm.

 
 

“We never wanted to be trendy,
we never wanted to do things that are easy to sell.”

 
 

Your pieces are hand crafted by Romanian artisans, renowned for their rich history in textiles and craftsmanship. How decisive is this locally-made element for the identity of Les Vacances d’Irina?

The essence of our brand is deeply rooted in the concept of being “locally-made”. Every design we create is meticulously crafted in Romania. This place allows us to bring intricate designs to life, and we feel incredibly fortunate to call it home for our brand.

The six years of delighting customers in one of Tokyo’s finest shops have been the ultimate validation of our dedication. It’s a testament that what we do, we do with excellence. I’m immensely grateful for the opportunity to collaborate with the talented artisans and craftsmen in Romania. They are an integral part of our growth, and their work is something I respect very much.

 

Photos: Les vacances d’Irina

 

You have a successful clothing brand yet it is the kind of brand that is bound to bring joy, quality, and glamour as it once was into the lives of the women who wear it and into the world, a brand that values the weight of balance beyond any material aim. How do you manage not to lose sight of your core values? Or, in other words, what is the biggest challenge of making slow fashion?

I think the most powerful quality that a brand can have stays in its ability to create timeless designs and to resist trends. It’s very tempting to deviate and to loose your identity. We do really small series for each item, we chose the shops we sell in to be nicely curated boutiques with really carefully chosen items.

 
 

“Embracing our imperfections is part of our humanity.”

 
 

You are doing a marvelous job at being yourselves! What do you wish people appreciated more in this time and age, not just design-wise?

My deepest hope is for people to appreciate the natural rhythms of life, the values that shaped us and the beauty in our imperfections. Embracing our imperfections as part of our humanity, valuing the authenticity of each individual’s journey. Above all, I hope we will never forget that kindness is the heart of everything, the very essence of who we are.
 

Shop: lesvacancesdirina.ro | Instagram: @lesvacancesdirina

 

MORE STORIES

Art will set you free: In conversation with photographer Bill Phelps

An artist who sails: Interview with Stella Marina

La enfermedad del domingo: In conversation with costume designer Clara Bilbao

Posted by classiq in Interviews, Style | | Comments Off on “Les vacances d’Irina Is All My Vulnerabilities, All My Beliefs and All My Dreams”: In Conversation with Irina Moroșanu

From The Wind in the Willows to The Velveteen Rabbit: The Most Wonderful Books for Children

”The Wind in the Willows”, written by Kenneth Grahame, illustrated by Robert Ingpen

 

Could children’s books truly enter our minds and imaginations without great illustrations? I almost cried when I found The Wind in the Willows edition illustrated by Robert Ingpen. I already owned a beautiful copy of the book with the original illustrations by E.H. Shepard, but it’s the one illustrated by Robert Ingpen, published for the centenary in 2008, that I wanted to read to my son and I waited until that edition became available. Because Robert Ingpen could journey “into the wonderlands” of the classic stories and “into the landscapes of their creators’ minds”, writes Elizabeth Hammill in the book Wonderlands: The Illustration Art of Robert Ingpen. “Using that ‘fearless imagination, I can believe these authors can come stay with me, sit with me as I’m designing, planning and illustrating their story…’”

 

”The Wind in the Willows”, illustrated by Robert Ingpen

 

There have been much visual reimagining of Margery Williams’ classic The Velveteen Rabbit. There is no greater truth than the deep meaning that resides here, one of the most beloved children’s books of all time.

“What is REAL?,” asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”

“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”

“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby, but these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

 

”The Velvetten Rabbit”, by Margery Williams, originally illustrated by William Nicholson

 

 

Written by Margery Williams, the book was originally illustrated by William Nicholson, and for 101 years, this classic tale of a toy becoming real has been an infinite creative playground for illustrators, sometimes to poor results unfortunately. Apart from the original illustrations by William Nicholson, there are very few that stand out: the version illustrated by Gennady Spirin and a more recent edition by The Enchanted Lion illustrated by Japanese artist Tomako Sakai, which is in fact also a retelling of the story. The images speak for themselves and without having read the retold version, the feeling is that they capture the essence, tenderness and wonder of Margery Williams’ text, building enough space into pictures to support the story and setting and yet carrying their own story and leaving room for the readers and their imagination.

 

”The Velvetten Rabbit” illustrated by Komako Sakai

 

Reading is something deeply personal and although there are many good children’s books, some may appeal to us more than others from various reasons. Here are eleven more children’s books (ranging from 3 to 8 years old) that have touched a chord with us and that I couldn’t imagine childhood without.

 

The Chronicles of Narnia, by C.S. Lewis, illustrated by Pauline Baynes

Peter Pan and Wendy, by J.M. Berrie, illustrated by Robert Ingpen

Peter Rabbit, written and illustrated by Beatrix Potter

Charlotte’s Web, written by E.B. White, illustrated by Garth Williams

Adventures with Pettson and Findus, written and illustrated by Sven Nordqvist

Moominland, written and illustrated by Tove Jansson

The Lion and the Bird, written and illustrated by Marianne Dubuc

Pax, written by Sara Pennypacker, illustrated by Jon Klassen

The Wolves of Currumpaw, written and illustrated by William Grill

Ernest and Célestine, written and illustrated by Gabrielle Vincent

Heidi, written by Johanna Spyri, illustrated by Jessie Wilcox Smith

 

”Pax”, illustrated by Jon Klassen

 

“In books like The Lion and the Bird (Le lion et l’oiseau), you can see that I don’t explain everything, I leave a lot of space to the reader so they can interpret the story as they wish. This is something that is very important to me when I tell a story.”
Marianne Dubuc in our interview

 

“Direct experience gives you more confidence in the story you are telling. Seeing Lobo’s territory in New Mexico, for example, was so useful, it was really different than how I had imagined it, and being there in real life just made me care about the story so much more.”
William Grill in our interview

 

MORE STORIES

Beyond Ernest et Célestine: In conversation with Fondation Monique Martin

Hayao Miyazaki’s wonderful sense of fantasy

The poetic power of illustration: Interview with William Grill

Posted by classiq in Books, Children's books, Children’s illustration | | Comments Off on From The Wind in the Willows to The Velveteen Rabbit: The Most Wonderful Books for Children

December Newsletter: The Eight Mountains, Confessions of a Bookseller and Graffiti on the Train

Le otto montagne, 2022. Wildside, Rufus, Menuetto Film

 
 

”For today’s blackboard I wrote a haiku:
Christmas is hellish,
Lose yourself in a bookshop;
All will be well (ish).”

Shaun Blythell, Confessions of a Bookseller
(Entry: Tuesday, 22 December)

 

 

Le otto montagne, 2022. Wildside, Rufus, Menuetto Film

 

Le otto montagne (The Eight Mountains), 2022
Felix van Groeningen, Charlotte Vandermeersch

For someone who loves the mountain as much as I do, this film felt like a call home. It is an ode to the mountain peaks and friendship. Is there anything more beautiful than that? A film in harmony with the seasons, a film that takes its time to unfold. A city boy, Pietro, and Bruno, a village boy, meet in an isolated village in the Italian Alps, where Pietro’s family spends the summers. A profound bound forms between the two, which will shape and mark their adult lives. Childhood unites them (the film is also an ode to childhood and its free and unspoiled spirit), life takes them on different paths and tragedy reunites them again, with the mountain and the beauty of nature, with its untamed and unpredictable force, always presiding over their existence. As for the visual beauty of the film, words are truly unnecessary, but the key element was the filming on 35 mm. It’s another thing that makes this film so special, personal and emotional. And I am going to quote cinematographer Ruben Impens in an interview with Association Française Cinématographique:

“At the start, we almost intuitively considered CinemaScope for a film such as this… you’re tempted to say “the bigger, the better!” In reality, it’s very hard to capture the feelings you feel when you look at a landscape in two dimensions. Whether that be a painting or a movie screen. For example, you can’t manage that just by shooting with a wide angle. On the contrary, on a mountain, strangely enough it is the long focal lengths that I feel best translate the emotions of the landscape. […] To return to the 1.37 aspect ratio, once we’d analysed our scouting photos and we’d reflected on the visual form of the film we were about to shoot, we realised that the mountains were almost already epic enough by themselves… We didn’t need to add to it. Being able to place the characters in the lower part of the frame, with the mountains above them, was something we liked, in a sort of triangle that we often repeated like a theme throughout the film. For example, even in the interiors, such as the studio where Lucas lives in Turin, you can see the diagonal theme with the mansard roof. And then, there were also the windows of the alpine chalet, or the vacation house in the valley, with its little windows that were perfect for 1.37 aspect ratio.”

 

Sur les chemins noirs, 2023
Denis Imbert

Dylan: “And you? Why are you walking?”

Pierre: “I’ve always walked. Everyone walks at their own pace. That’s why it’s hard walking with other people. If a man walks out of step with his comrades, he’s hearing a different drum.”

Dylan: “That’s nice.”

Pierre: “It’s Thoreau, Henry David Thoreau.’

Dylan: “Zorro?”

Pierre: “Thoreau!”

Dylan: “Never heard of him.”

Pierre: “He’s a great writer. He’s written lots about nature and… walking.”

Dylan: “Sorry, but school was never my thing.”

Pierre: “Literature isn’t school.”

Dylan: “No, but…”

Pierre: “It’s another kind of school. Lots of writers never went to school.”

Dylan: “Sorry, but it’s really not my thing.”

Pierre: “Not your thing? You’re right, stay as you are.”

Jean Dujardin is Pierre Girard, a famous writer and explorer. One night, after a foolish fall from a floor of his building, he is left in a coma. When he wakes up, scarred for life and barely standing, he decides to cross France on foot. If the scene above, taking place between Pierre and Dylan, a young man, whom he meets on the road and who accompanies him for a while on his walk, is your only take-away from the film, it is worth it.

 

Still Walking, 2008
Hirokazu Koreeda

At the time of the film’s release Koreeda revealed that he made Still Walking in response to his parents’ death. “In the past five or six years I lost both my parents. As an ungrateful son who used the demands of his profession to excuse long absences from home, to this dat I find myself troubled by regrets.” This may be my favourite of his films. I believe that it’s subtleness and quiet beauty will stay with me. It has some of the tender touch of Yasujirō Ozu’s Tokyo Story. “The characters are utterly ordinary people; the film takes place over the course of a single summer day”, Koreeda explained after the film’s release. “Unlike in an American television drama, nothing of consequence happens during their rare, overnight family reunion. Yet over the course of this day, as deceptively tranquil as a calm sea, the tide flows in and out, and wavelets constantly ripple the surface.” It’s magical how the camera comprises time, how it gives way to resentments, regrets, fundamental truths or unspoken hopes. So simple in terms of storyline, yet so rich in substance and meaning.

 

Le otto montagne, 2022. Wildside, Rufus, Menuetto Film

 

Reading

I have recently had the pleasure of meeting Shaun Bythell, the writer of The Diary of a Bookseller and the owner of The Bookshop in Wigtown, Scotland, and attend a dialogue between him and my good friend Vlad Niculescu. It is true, Shaun is warm, honest and irreverently funny. He didn’t really have to make the case for the importance of books for me, which is why I enjoyed the conversation even more. One morning earlier this week I heard one of my favourite radio hosts suggesting the audience to just leave the Christmas shopping and do something better, like going to a concert. In the vein of Shaun Bythell’s own words quoted at the beginning of this newsletter, I’d pass on the advice to give up any commercial Christmasy activities and spend the day, or any given December day, in a bookshop.

In Confessions of a Bookseller, Shaun reveals that bookselling is “far from the idyll you might imagine. Beset by bizarre requests from customers who appear not to know what a shop is, locked in an endless struggle with Amazon and terrorised by his bin-diving, poultice-making employees, Shaun documents his trials and tribulations with a sharp eye and even sharper wit. This is the inside story of a life lived in books: from the pleasures of the unexpected find to the friendships forged over shared tastes and the sadness of finishing a really good book.”

 

Listening

The soundtrack: The Eight Mountains, with music composed by Daniel Norgren

 

The podcast: The Wild Life, with Miriam Lancewood the latest episode from The Adventure Podcast, where the host, filmmaker Matt Pycroft, speaks to adventurer and author Miriam Lancewood, who along with her husband, Peter, gave up their possession years ago and moved into the wilderness of New Zealand with a tent and a bow and arrow. Ben Fogle named them the freest people he has met. And if you listen to Miriam, the felling is that, yes, she is a truly free human being. It’s a revelation. “You are what you are surrounded about, if you are in a city you, will become that, if you are in the mountains, you will become that.” A truly fascinating story and insight into a life that is very very rarely lived.

 

The album: Graffiti on the Train, Stereophonics

 

Making

If I were to single out one brand, more likely a maker, especially this particular time of year, someone who is small, fairly new opened, fiercingly and authentically beautiful and completely devoted to making things their own way, then that one would be Rag of Colts. I have a personal affinity to Caroline Strecker’s way of making bags, the most characterful there are, handmade from repurposed saddles that have a feeling of heritage and quality and storytelling. I have talked to Caroline to do an interview together, but her newly opened integrated shop and studio has kept her hands fairly full, so we had to postpone our chat for the time being. But peaking inside her little shop, this little world of craftsmanship that is woven around something that is truly lived in and felt, a recognition of what is truly meaningful, fills me with all the joy.

 

Exploring

Wim Wenders’ photography book Journey to Onomichi. „I have always wondered where my favorite film (yes, of all times) Tokyo Story (or Tokyo monogatari in Japanese) actually takes place, except in Tokyo, of course. Yasujirō Ozu’s masterpiece from 1953 depicts a small seaside fishing town in which the story begins and ends. An old couple departs from there, in order to visit their kids in the big city one last time. After their return, the old woman dies, and her husband is left alone. Eventually someone told me that this coastal town was called Onomichi, in the South of Japan. So one day my wife and I made the reverse journey and traveled from Tokyo to Onomichi where we stayed for a week.“ – Wim Wenders

On a more recent trip to Japan, Wim Wenders talked again about the work of one of the greatest filmmakers in history, Yasujirō Ozu: “Never before and never again was film ever again so close to its essence and its purpose.” He was interviewed in Kamakura, where Ozu lived and shot some of his films, and where, forty years ago, Wenders himself interviewed Ozu’s legendary actor Ryū Chishū for his film TOKYO-GA.

 

Le otto montagne, 2022. Wildside, Rufus, Menuetto Film

 
 

The regulars: The interviews, newsletters and podcasts I turn to every week and/or every month because they are that good. Craig Mod’s newsletters: Roden and Ridgeline. Soundtracking, with Edith Bowman. The MUBI Podcast. Alicia Kennedy’s newsletter. Gone to Timbuktu, Sophy Robert’s podcast on the art of travel. Wachstumsversuche, with Sarah Schill. Sirene, Racquet, and Yolo Journal, all in print.

 

Our notebooks “In a Lonely Place” make for the perfect gift. For artists, scribblers and dreamers alike.
Available on shop.classiq.me / Wim Wenders being interviewed in Kamakura. Wim Wenders Foundation /
Some more December reading. Classiq Journal

Posted by classiq in Books, Culture, Film, Newsletter | | Comments Off on December Newsletter: The Eight Mountains, Confessions of a Bookseller and Graffiti on the Train