Wednesday, 20 November 2024

St Edmund, King & Martyr

    Exult, O Holy church of the English nation; behold unto thee is given to praise Edmund, the illustrious king and most invincible martyr, who, triumphing over the prince of this world, most victoriously ascended unto Heaven.




     Today is the feast day of St Edmund, King of East Anglia, martyred this day in c869 AD.  In the Middle Ages he was one of those saints, along with St George, associated with the realm of England.  His cult was deeply popular. Apparently (according to wiki) it wasn't until the Tudor period that St George became the sole patron Saint of the nation.

Sunday, 17 November 2024

'L'Armée des Ombres'

        

     'Tragedy is the immediacy of death you get in the underworld and or at a peculiar time such as war. The characters of  'L'Armée des Ombres' are tragic characters; you know it from the very beginning.'


     Following my review of Jean-Pierre Melville's film 'Le Cercle Rouge' it may come as no surprise to find out that I have begun working my way through his work.  Yesterday I watched 'L'Armée des Ombres' of 1969.  And what a profoundly moving cinematic experience it was, so much so that in the middle of the night I feel compelled to put down my thoughts in this short review.  It isn't hyperbole to say I don't think I've encountered a film of such artistic and emotional heft in quite a while and I'm not at all ashamed to add that at the end I was in tears.

     'L'Armée des Ombres', based on the Joseph Kessel's semi autobiographical novel of the same name, is the story of a Resistance cell operating in France during the German occupation of the country in WWII.  It is a grim and bitter business, at once heroic and ruthless.  One feels that Melville, who himself fought in the Resistance, poured so much of his own experience into this film; and it is that, along with Melville's great artistic and technical skills, that make this film so compelling.  Much credit is also due to the cinematographer Pierre Lhomme and composer Eric Demarsan for a score of such poignancy.
     I won't spoil the ending except to say that something occurs that is quite exceptional in film making.  I really cannot recommend this film highly enough.

L'Armee des Ombres

1969

Director                 Jean-Pierre Melville
Cinematogrpahy  Pierre Lhomme
Producer               Robert Dorffmann


Saturday, 16 November 2024

St Mary the Virgin, Tenby

      A welcome return to Tenby. A glorious day full of sunshine, and serenity.  The ancient streets of the tightly-packed town centre had a sense of all pervading calm, rather like a cathedral close or an Oxbridge college.

     St Mary's church sits at the centre of the old town, on what is likely to be an ancient site.  It is mainly a Late Medieval structure - a rebuilding and enlarging of the original of which only the tower, tall and gaunt, really survives.  Its stands, unusually on the s side of the chancel. The equally gaunt spire, based on that in Bridgewater, Somerset, is Late Medieval.  St Mary's is a large church for Medieval Wales, built with mercantile wealth.  Rubble masonry w Bath Stone (?) details.  Apart from tower, Perpendicular Gothic throughout.  Nave and aisles and very long chancel with n chapel (St Nicholas/Aisle of the grace of the Holy Rood), and tower and large chapel to the s (St Thomas, tho' the Inventory of the Ancient Monuments of Wales (1911) calls it 'St Anne's chapel').  Porches to s & n of nave. N porch Victorian.  Large, cruciform w porch demolished in 1817.  Ruins of former College of Priests to w of church.

     The interior is vast, spacious and on Thursday afternoon  filled with the clear, slanting light of approaching winter. The overall effect in the nave is rather like a hall-church.  Nave has original wooden wagon roof, like a wooden barrel vault - aisles open wooden roofs, Victorian by the look of it.  The church was restored twice in the 19th century: 1862-66 & 1885. The s aisle is exceptionally large, nearly as wide as nave and n aisle combined.  Somerset type piers are short and widely spaced.  (n & s arcades are of different design; the s has foliage capitals, the n none.)
     The chancel has a tiny clearstory, somehow squeezed between wall and wagon roof.  The latter is quite the design with a series of large figures of angels along the base. High Altar raised high on steps; below is the crypt chapel of Jesus.  The n & s chancel chapels are trapezoid in shape, tapering to the east - Aisle of the Grace of the Holy Rood noticeably so. Both have wagon roofs which have been repainted. 
     All the wood work has been limed. The church rich in monuments and memorials. 

     Geraldus Cambrensis, Gerald of Wales, scholar and writer, was rector here in the early 13th century.


















Tuesday, 12 November 2024

Own work: The Banqueting House, Studley Royal

      So, The Banqueting House at Studley Royal, in N Yorkshire, that remarkable water garden that also includes the ruined Fountains Abbey with its purlieus. I have been to the Abbey, as a teenager, but not the garden.  The Banqueting House is thought to be a design by Colen Campbell, built by the mason Thomas Buck between 1728 and 1732.  Rather Baroque, all things considered.  Mixed media, 56 x 36 cms on 300gsm watercolour paper.



Sunday, 10 November 2024

'Le Cercle Rouge'

     Siddatha Gautama, the Buddha, drew a circle with a piece of red chalk and said: "When men, even unknowingly, are to meet one day, whatever may befall each, whatever the diverging paths, on the said day, they will inevitably come together in the red circle."

     For my birthday present this year the bf has gone and bought me the box set of the films of the French auteur Jean-Pierre Melville (1917-1973).  A name associated with the French New Wave and Neo-Noir.  His work is heavily indebted to the Hollywood gangster movies on the 30s & 40s.
     So the other night I watched, for the first time, what is probably Melville's best work, for which he also wrote the script, 'Le Cercle Rouge' of 1970, a thriller - 'un film policier' as Melville himself described it - set in a contemporaneous France; the action moving slowly through a wintery nation from Marseilles, to Burgundy, and then on to Paris.  In places there is snow on the ground.  The film starts as a double manhunt: Corey (Alain Delon) is being pursued by organised crime; Vogel (a feral-looking Gian Maria Volonté) by the police under the command of  Le Commissaire Mattai, played by Andre Bourvil (aka 'Bourvil') in his penultimate film role.  That parallelism of the hunters is, I think, important here. By chance, or the hand of fate, the lives of these two criminal fugitives cross and the film begins its metamorphosis into a 'heist movie'.  In Paris Corey and Vogel are joined by the former police officer Jansen (Yves Montand) an expert marksman.  There is a sense in which in which the three criminal protagonists un-self themselves: Corey on release discards the photos of his former lover, Vogel sheds his handcuffs and escapes the police in dramatic fashion; and in perhaps one of the most striking scenes in the whole film Jansen goes 'cold turkey' and finds new purpose.  As one critic has said they become 'new men', sort of floating untethered figures, without apparent ties of family or past.  Apart from a cursory glance at the menage of Corey and Vogel in Paris, the only domesticity we witness is that of Commisssaire Mattai, who has a small apartment on the entresol, or mezzanine, of a typically 19th century Parisian apartment block.  Otherwise there is nothing superfluous, little in the way of score and as I have noted little or no back-story; for instance we have no idea as to the reason for Corey's imprisonment or why Vogel was been taken to Paris by the police.  Both are unimportant in the economy of the narrative. The result is an unusually spare film; cinema in a particularly 'pure' form.
      'Le Cercle Rouge' is also a film of immaculate stylishness. One feels, for instance, that there is hardly a shot that hasn't been considered deeply, and carefully.  Over all, colours are muted; greys and blues predominate and red is rarely used and then its presence on the screen is parsimonious.  Paradoxically, this limited palette does not (always) produce drabness - there is a constant intensity of vision.  Perhaps in this controlled use of colour there is a nod towards the colour films of Alfred Hitchcock.  The interiors - those created for the film - are of a high level of sophistication. Dress is fastidious. Suit and tie, trench coat are the order here - the influence of Hollywood.  Perhaps they should be seen as a uniform or the equivalent to the suit of armour. Credit must be given here to the Production Designer Theobald Meurisse, Set Decorator Pierre Charon, and the cinematographer Henri Decaë
     The French writer (and friend of Melville) Philip Labro wrote with an enviable and great stylishness of the Melvillian aesthetic thus: "Melvillian is what is told in the night, in the blue of the night, between men of law and men of disorder, through looks and gestures, betrayals and friendships given without words, in an icy luxury that does not exclude tenderness, or in a grayish anonymity which does not reject poetry."
     One way of understanding the narrative structure film is as a game of chess between the gang and the authorities - it may be purely coincidental but as Delon leaves a billiard hall in Marseilles, where, incidentally, he has given a couple of goons a good going over, he passes a sign that reads "Cercle Phoceen d'Echecs".  What are to make of this? Is this the only time that the word 'Cercle' appears in the film?
    Melville fought with the Resistance during WWII, adopting 'Melville' as his nom de guerre in honour of Hermann Melville.  He said of that time: "The best years of my life were the war years. When courage was a virtue.  I'm ashamed of it, but I liked the war. The rare moment in a man's life when one encounters virtue.  It's the career officers who do not hesitate, sometimes, to confront unlawfulness in order to save their honour." I believe he felt the lack of purpose in those Post War years - the 'Trentes Glorieuses'.  (Is there anything in the fact that this film appears to end of that period?) And there is too an echo of that purposelessness in the character of Jansen, the lost former police man, heavily dependent on drugs/alcohol. There is a sense in which Melville's films are not only a way of dealing with those war time experiences; but partly, one supposes, of re-living those years if only in a vicarious manner.
     This film is about masculinity and is concerned almost entirely with the realm of men.  (No woman speaks, or even holds the screen for very long.)  Melville is clearly fascinated about the 'hero' - the trope, or even archetype, of the solitary man without past or even, perhaps, future who acts in a manner beyond the ordinary. Oddly, perhaps, he makes Corey, the career criminal, the repository of the heroic. Ultimately, this film, a lament of sorts, is not only about the death of the hero but the end of the heroic as a phenomenon destroyed by the mundane little police man with the pet cats.


*  It was watching Bourvil in 'La Grande Vadrouille' (1966) playing opposite Louis de Funez and Terry Thomas that inspired this discovery of Melville.
**  "Est Melvillien ce qui se conte dans la nuit, dans le bleu de la nuit, entre hommes de loi et hommes de désordre, à coups de regards et de gestes, de trahisons et d'amitiés données sans paroles, dans un luxe glacé qui n'exclut pas la tendresse, ou dans un anonymat grisâtre qui ne rejette pas la poésie."


Le Cercle Rouge

1970

Director                 Jean-Pierre Melville
Cinematogrpahy  Henri Decaë
Producer               Robert Dorffmann

Tuesday, 29 October 2024

St Martin in the Bullring I

    In the morning before the concert we had a wander around the city centre - we headed sw from the hotel to St Martin's church in the Bullring, and in doing so we left the new glitzy city of Selfridges and Harvey Nichols and entered another, older city, the other Birmingham. 
     St Martin's is the mother church of the city.  It stands just above the valley floor of the River Rea.  Yes, Birmingham has a river.  Actually one of several of the blink-and-you-miss-it variety.  The spire, for all its blunt hard-faced competition, remains a city landmark.
    From most angles the church appears, apart from the tower and spire, low and squat - rather bunker-like from some directions.  What the visitor sees today is a nineteenth century rebuild of the original.  The only original structure left is the inside of the tower.  The rebuilt church is largely the work of the architect J A Chatwin (1830-1907) whose work we have encountered before on this blog.  (He was, you may remember, the great grandfather of the novelist & travel writer Bruce Chatwin.) Hammered dressed masonry, and rich Dec period detailing in a rather Lincolnshire manner.* All rather solid and prosperous looking.  No expense spared.  Slightly contrasting use of Derbyshire and Grinshill stone - the latter from Shrewsbury. Both sandstone, with one used for the walls and the other for the details, my guess is that they chosen in preference over the local, and friable, New Red Sandstone, for their resilience in the smoky atmosphere of the 19th city.  Chatwin seemingly had a lot of fun with gargoyles etc.  I don't know who designed the ironwork on the great w door but it is splendid.  All pomegranates and foliage in the Arts and Crafts tradition.  The church was damaged in the war and restored in the mid-fifties.
     Sadly the church was locked.  I have been in some years ago and all I can recall is that the interior was a lot less solid than the exterior would lead you to believe.  On the s side are a series of service buildings - church hall, vestries etc - built over the churchyard;** to the e the earlier stuff in a rather Arts and Crafts manner by the next generation of Chatwin architects, Philip and Anthony Chatwin (1873-1964); and to the w Modernist (prob 1970/80s, but actually 2002-3 by the firm APEC) - a sort of reinterpretation of Ye Olde England.  The latter looked as though it were in need some attention if only from a window cleaner.  The whole area is somewhat shabby with people sleeping rough around the church.  At times I felt I was intruding.
     Beyond the church is the market.  It was like stepping back into the 1970s.  In all a long way from Selfridges.
















*    Chatwin's rebuilding took its stylistic cues from P C Hardwick's restoration of the tower in the early 1850s, when  original Dec details had been found during the course of the work. The use of hammer dressed masonry, however, was Hardwick's own contribution.
**  There is a tiny strip of churchyard to the north of the church.  And although it is a small remnant of the what was once there it is a welcome sight there being so little greenery in that part of the city.







Saturday, 26 October 2024

Sibelius in Birmingham

  For an instant God opens His door and His orchestra plays the Fifth Symphony


    A return visit to Birmingham mid-week, a chance to see family and, of a birthday treat a return to the Symphony Hall and the CBSO.  The matinée concert consisted of three works: 'Threnody (in memory of Jean Sibelius)' by Grant William Still, Piano Concerto no2 by Prokofiev and, after the interval, Sibelius's mighty 5th Symphony. A cracking afternoon it was, with the CBSO in fine form under conductor Jonathon Heyward.  The soloist in Prokofiev's fiery 2nd piano concerto was the Korean Yeol Eum Son.  It was a dazzling performance of what, to me, sounded a virtuoso piece.  A work that swings, violently at times, between Romanticism and Modernity.  It was all very Russian; the influence of Mussorgsky evident, the Rachmaninov less so.  (Though apparently it is there.)
     And then the Sibelius.  This I have to say is one of my favourite pieces of music.  One that holds a special place in my imaginative and emotional life, as I suspect it does for many people.  For Sibelius himself the composition took on a mystical aspect, as the quote at the beginning of this post demonstrates; as he wrote in his diary (21.05.1915) 'Today at ten to eleven I saw 16 swans.  One of my greatest experiences!  God, how beautiful....nature mysticism and the pain of life!  The finale of the fifth symphony.....ligature in the trumpets!!  This had to happen to me, who has been an outsider for too long.  So I've been in a holy place today.'  He is writing here of the great 'swan theme' or 'swan hymn' of the final movement, the moment the whole symphony has been building to, the moment of integration. 
     This was the first time I have the symphony heard it live, and I was not in anyway disappointed.  A bright, sparky performance, I can't pick out any moments in particular as the whole thing was so immersive, rather like floating down a rapidly moving river, however I do remember how the finale was noticeably brighter and tighter than some recordings which tend to emphasize the 'pain of life' aspect.  This finale, in this performance, was radiant, triumphant with 'nature mysticism'.