A photo of a good book about cinema. No discursive, pretentious analyses, no verbose scrutiny. Because the idea is to invite you to read the book, not read about it here. But instead of using social media, I use my journal. Back to basics. Take it as a wish to break free of over-reliance on social media (even if it’s just for posting a photo of a good book) for presenting my work, cultural finds and interests. These are things to be enjoyed as stand-alone pieces in a more substantial and meaningful way than showing them in the black hole of Instagram thronged with an audience with a short attention span. This is also a look through my voluminous collection of books about film that I use as research in my adamant decision to rely less and less on the online and more on more on print materials.
Read Instead…in Print 02: Unquiet, by Linn Ullmann. This one is not a book about cinema, and although Linn Ullmann is indeed the daughter of Norwegian actress Liv Ullmann and Swedish filmmaker Ingmar Bergman, that’s not why I wanted to include it here, but because it is a very special book. The daughter and the father decided to write a book together when he was in his eighties, but when they start working on it, it won’t be long before he is gone. All that remained were her memories, especially from her childhood summers, every one of them spent with her father on the island of Fårö. And those didn’t come easily, didn’t come back flowingly, neatly unfolding, ready to be written down. “For me it was like this: I remembered nothing, but then I came across a photograph of Georgia O’Keeffe that reminded me of my father. I began to remember. I wrote: “I remember,” and felt unnerved by how much I had forgotten.” Yet, this made much more sense. “In order to write about real people – parents, children, lovers, friends, enemies, brothers, uncles, or the occasional passerby – it is necessary to make them fictional. I believe this is the only way of breathing life into them. To remember is to look around, again and again, equally astonished every time.” This is a wondrous journey into love, and loss, and longing, and belonging, and into the self. It’s not easy searching for your memories, dropping in at moments of your life and getting in as close and as deep as possible, and making sense of these memories requires the talent of a writer. Linn Ullmann is a wonderful writer.
The birth of the androgynous look: Greta Garbo in The Single Standard
Read Instead…in Print: Peter Weir Interviews
Art will set you free: In conversation with photographer Bill Phelps