Para aqui:
www.abat-jour.blogs.sapo.pt
quarta-feira, fevereiro 20, 2008
quinta-feira, fevereiro 07, 2008
Once
Quando li a descrição do filme, onde era feita alusão ao facto de ser um musical dos tempos modernos, confesso que fiquei um bocadinho desconfiada. Porém, todas as minhas desconfianças se dissiparam depois de ver os primeiros 10 minutos do filme. Já era tempo de ser feito um musical em que as personagens não começam subitamente a cantar, por tudo e por nada, nas situações mais comezinhas do dia-a-dia, muitas vezes imbuídas de uma alegria artificial e irritante.
A simplicidade da história, da música e do trabalho de realização aproximam verdadeiramente este filme do público. Espero sinceramente que venha a estar num cinema perto de nós!
A simplicidade da história, da música e do trabalho de realização aproximam verdadeiramente este filme do público. Espero sinceramente que venha a estar num cinema perto de nós!
domingo, janeiro 27, 2008
The word of God
«Thomas Nelson, which was once owned by a former door-to-door Bible salesman, was bought in 2005 for $473m. And secular publishing houses have also got religion: HarperCollins bought Zondervan, a religious book publisher, in the late 80’s, and now most mainstream publishers are trying to produce their own Bibles. As a result, all the tricks of the publisher’s trade are being applied to the Bible.
Consider product proliferation. Thomas Nelson publishes 60 different editions of the Bible every year. The Good Book now comes in all colours, including those of your college. There are Bibles for every sort of person, from “seekers” to cowboys, from brides to barmen. There is a waterproof outdoor Bible and a camouflage Bible for use in war zones. The “100 minute Bible” summarises the Good Book for the time-starved.
Consider user-friendliness. There are prayer books in everyday vernacular or even street slang (“And even though I walk through/The Hood of death/I don’t back down/for you have my back”). Or consider innovation. In 2003 Thomas Nelson dreamt up the idea of Bible-zines – crosses between Bibles and teenage magazines. The pioneer was Revolve, which intercuts the New Testament with beauty tips and relationship advice (“are you dating a Godly guy?”). This was quickly followed by Refuel, for boys, and Blossom and Explore, for teens.
There are toddler-friendly versions of the most famous Bible stories. The “Boy’s Bible” promises “gross and gory Bible stuff”. The “Picture Bible” looks like a super-hero comic. “God’s Little Princess Devotional Bible” is pink and sparkly.
There are about 900 English translations of the Bible, ranging from the grandiloquent to the colloquial. There are translations into languages, such as Inupiat and Gullah, that are spoken by only handfuls of people. Bob Hudson, of the American Bible Society, wants everybody on the planet to be able to claim that “God speaks my language”. A couple of eccentric geeks have even translated the Bible into Klingon, a language spoken only by scrofulous space aliens on “Star Trek”.»
in The Economist
Consider product proliferation. Thomas Nelson publishes 60 different editions of the Bible every year. The Good Book now comes in all colours, including those of your college. There are Bibles for every sort of person, from “seekers” to cowboys, from brides to barmen. There is a waterproof outdoor Bible and a camouflage Bible for use in war zones. The “100 minute Bible” summarises the Good Book for the time-starved.
Consider user-friendliness. There are prayer books in everyday vernacular or even street slang (“And even though I walk through/The Hood of death/I don’t back down/for you have my back”). Or consider innovation. In 2003 Thomas Nelson dreamt up the idea of Bible-zines – crosses between Bibles and teenage magazines. The pioneer was Revolve, which intercuts the New Testament with beauty tips and relationship advice (“are you dating a Godly guy?”). This was quickly followed by Refuel, for boys, and Blossom and Explore, for teens.
There are toddler-friendly versions of the most famous Bible stories. The “Boy’s Bible” promises “gross and gory Bible stuff”. The “Picture Bible” looks like a super-hero comic. “God’s Little Princess Devotional Bible” is pink and sparkly.
There are about 900 English translations of the Bible, ranging from the grandiloquent to the colloquial. There are translations into languages, such as Inupiat and Gullah, that are spoken by only handfuls of people. Bob Hudson, of the American Bible Society, wants everybody on the planet to be able to claim that “God speaks my language”. A couple of eccentric geeks have even translated the Bible into Klingon, a language spoken only by scrofulous space aliens on “Star Trek”.»
in The Economist
terça-feira, janeiro 08, 2008
Settimane difficile…
Lunedì: Andiamo! Uno, due, tre...
Martedì: l’ importante è il lessico. Concentrazione! (ma la musica è veramente brutta...)
Mercoledì: quattro, cinque, sei...
Giovedì: Provate a sentire se conoscete qualche parola...
Venerdì: Dopo i polmoni, il RIM (scusate lo scherzo...)
Sabato: l’ ultimo sforzo – vado dall stivale all’ isola della regina.
Domenica: DOMENICA!!!! Il dolce far niente!
Martedì: l’ importante è il lessico. Concentrazione! (ma la musica è veramente brutta...)
Mercoledì: quattro, cinque, sei...
Giovedì: Provate a sentire se conoscete qualche parola...
Venerdì: Dopo i polmoni, il RIM (scusate lo scherzo...)
Sabato: l’ ultimo sforzo – vado dall stivale all’ isola della regina.
Domenica: DOMENICA!!!! Il dolce far niente!
terça-feira, janeiro 01, 2008
City of glass
He wanted to record things he had seen that day...
... before he forgot them.
Today, as never before: the tramps, shopping-bag ladies, drifters and drunks...
... the merely destitute to the wretchedly broken. They are everywhere.
Some beg with a semblance of pride: soon I will be back with the rest of you.
Other have given up hope.
Still others try to work for money.
Others have real talent.
The man improvised tiny variations, enclosed in his own universe.
It went on and on. The longer I listened, the harder I found it to leave.
To be inside that music: perhaps that is a place where one could finally disappear.
Far more numerous are those with nothing to do...
... hulks of despair, clothed in rags, faces bruised, bleeding.
They shuffle through the streets as though in chains.
They seem to be everywhere the moment you look for them.
There are others locked inside madness -
[TAKA TAKA TAKA T]
- unable to exit the world that stands at the threshold of their bodies.
[AKA TAKA TAKA TAK]
Perhaps if he stopped drumming, the city would fall apart.
There are those forever on the move, as if it mattered where they were.
Baudelaire: Il me semble que je serais toujours bien là où je ne suis pas.
"It seems to me that I will always be happy in the place where I am not."
Or, more bluntly: wherever I am not is the place where I am myself.
in City of glass, Paul Auster, Adaptation by Paul Karasik and David Mazzucchelli
... before he forgot them.
Today, as never before: the tramps, shopping-bag ladies, drifters and drunks...
... the merely destitute to the wretchedly broken. They are everywhere.
Some beg with a semblance of pride: soon I will be back with the rest of you.
Other have given up hope.
Still others try to work for money.
Others have real talent.
The man improvised tiny variations, enclosed in his own universe.
It went on and on. The longer I listened, the harder I found it to leave.
To be inside that music: perhaps that is a place where one could finally disappear.
Far more numerous are those with nothing to do...
... hulks of despair, clothed in rags, faces bruised, bleeding.
They shuffle through the streets as though in chains.
They seem to be everywhere the moment you look for them.
There are others locked inside madness -
[TAKA TAKA TAKA T]
- unable to exit the world that stands at the threshold of their bodies.
[AKA TAKA TAKA TAK]
Perhaps if he stopped drumming, the city would fall apart.
There are those forever on the move, as if it mattered where they were.
Baudelaire: Il me semble que je serais toujours bien là où je ne suis pas.
"It seems to me that I will always be happy in the place where I am not."
Or, more bluntly: wherever I am not is the place where I am myself.
in City of glass, Paul Auster, Adaptation by Paul Karasik and David Mazzucchelli
quarta-feira, dezembro 12, 2007
quinta-feira, dezembro 06, 2007
Porquê?
Tendo em conta que não sou grande fã de David Fonseca, a pergunta natural e legítima que faz sentido formular é: Porquê um videoclip dele?
Estava eu a passar canais descontraidamente quando, abstraindo-me daquilo que efectivamente estava a ouvir, vi um cenário que me pareceu extremamente familiar. Será que é? Não, não pode ser. Esperei mais um bocadinho, mais uns segundos de luzes irritantes a piscar e… Olha, é mesmo! É, só pode ser. Agora já tinha a certeza que era.
Vejam lá se reconhecem a biblioteca.
Estava eu a passar canais descontraidamente quando, abstraindo-me daquilo que efectivamente estava a ouvir, vi um cenário que me pareceu extremamente familiar. Será que é? Não, não pode ser. Esperei mais um bocadinho, mais uns segundos de luzes irritantes a piscar e… Olha, é mesmo! É, só pode ser. Agora já tinha a certeza que era.
Vejam lá se reconhecem a biblioteca.
quinta-feira, novembro 22, 2007
quarta-feira, novembro 21, 2007
Gulbenkian: Glinka, Tchaikovsky e Schumann
Durante grande parte do concerto estive atenta a todos os movimentos dos violoncelistas. Há qualquer coisa que me fascina nos movimentos concertados dos arcos. Quase parecem prados de erva alta, ora acariciados por uma brisa suave, ora fustigados por ventos fortes. Estava eu no meio destas divagações quando me lembrei que ainda não tinha feito qualquer referência ao falecimento de um dos grandes violoncelistas do século XX. Aqui fica uma pequenina homenagem.
Mstislav Rostropovich (1927-2007)
Mstislav Rostropovich (1927-2007)
segunda-feira, novembro 19, 2007
Control
Dizem que uma imagem vale por mil palavras. Eu não sei se é sempre assim, mas neste caso é verdade. Mesmo o melhor argumentista, num daqueles momentos de inspiração que acontecem poucas (uma?) vezes na vida, não conseguiria transpor para um texto tudo o que está a ser dito através daquelas sequências de imagens a preto e branco. Os jogos de luz e contraluz, a paisagem urbana. E a música. Sempre a música, como éter envolvente que garante a unidade e consistência de toda a história.
Já há algum tempo que não via um filme que me tocasse, que me fizesse sentir desconfortável na cadeira, por me obrigar a partilhar das angústias que nele são vividas. Sem dúvida um filme a ver novamente.
Já há algum tempo que não via um filme que me tocasse, que me fizesse sentir desconfortável na cadeira, por me obrigar a partilhar das angústias que nele são vividas. Sem dúvida um filme a ver novamente.
sexta-feira, novembro 02, 2007
"The Pretender"
Keep you in the dark
You know they all pretend
Keep you in the dark
And so it all began
Send in your skeletons
Sing as their bones go marching in... again
The need you buried deep
The secrets that you keep are ever ready
Are you ready?
I'm finished making sense
Done pleading ignorance
That whole defense
Spinning infinity, boy
The wheel is spinning me
It's never-ending, never-ending
Same old story
What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
You're the pretender
What if I say that I'll never surrender?
What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
You're the pretender
What if I say that I'll never surrender?
In time or so I’m told
I'm just another soul for sale... oh, well
The page is out of print
We are not permanent
We're temporary, temporary
Same old story
What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
You're the pretender
What if I say that I'll never surrender?
What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
You're the pretender
What if I say that I'll never surrender?
I'm the voice inside your head
You refuse to hear
I'm the face that you have to face
Mirrored in your stare
I'm what's left, I'm what's right
I'm the enemy
I'm the hand that will take you down
Bring you to your knees
So who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
Keep you in the dark
You know they all pretend
What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
You're the pretender
What if I say that I'll never surrender?
What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
You're the pretender
What if I say that I'll never surrender?
What if I say I'm not like the others?
(Keep you in the dark)
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
(You know they all... pretend)
You're the pretender
What if I say that I'll never surrender?
What if I say I'm not like the others?
(Keep you in the dark)
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
(You know they all... pretend)
You're the pretender
What if I say that I'll never surrender?
So who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
E, para quem quiser ouvir:
You know they all pretend
Keep you in the dark
And so it all began
Send in your skeletons
Sing as their bones go marching in... again
The need you buried deep
The secrets that you keep are ever ready
Are you ready?
I'm finished making sense
Done pleading ignorance
That whole defense
Spinning infinity, boy
The wheel is spinning me
It's never-ending, never-ending
Same old story
What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
You're the pretender
What if I say that I'll never surrender?
What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
You're the pretender
What if I say that I'll never surrender?
In time or so I’m told
I'm just another soul for sale... oh, well
The page is out of print
We are not permanent
We're temporary, temporary
Same old story
What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
You're the pretender
What if I say that I'll never surrender?
What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
You're the pretender
What if I say that I'll never surrender?
I'm the voice inside your head
You refuse to hear
I'm the face that you have to face
Mirrored in your stare
I'm what's left, I'm what's right
I'm the enemy
I'm the hand that will take you down
Bring you to your knees
So who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
Keep you in the dark
You know they all pretend
What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
You're the pretender
What if I say that I'll never surrender?
What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
You're the pretender
What if I say that I'll never surrender?
What if I say I'm not like the others?
(Keep you in the dark)
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
(You know they all... pretend)
You're the pretender
What if I say that I'll never surrender?
What if I say I'm not like the others?
(Keep you in the dark)
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
(You know they all... pretend)
You're the pretender
What if I say that I'll never surrender?
So who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
E, para quem quiser ouvir:
quinta-feira, novembro 01, 2007
Questões Párcticas (2)
terça-feira, outubro 30, 2007
domingo, outubro 28, 2007
Questões Párcticas (1) – LOST (Law of the Sea Treaty)
Porque será que os Estados Unidos, sob a égide da administração Bush, tentam agora apressar a ratificação do tratado internacional sobre a Lei do Mar, após 13 anos de recusa, justificada por receios de perda de soberania?
terça-feira, outubro 09, 2007
Volare
«Apertas o cinto. O avião está a aterrar. Voar é o contrário de viajar: atravessas uma descontinuidade do espaço, desapareces no vácuo, aceitas não estar em parte nenhuma durante uns momentos que são também uma espécie de vácuo no tempo; depois reapareces, num lugar e num instante sem relação com o onde e com o quando em que tinhas desaparecido. Entretanto o que fazes? Como ocupas esta tua ausência em relação ao mundo e do mundo em relação a ti? Lês; não despegas o olho do livro entre um aeroporto e o outro, porque para além da página está o vácuo, o anonimato das escalas aéreas, do útero metálico que te contém e te nutre, da multidão passageira sempre diferente e sempre igual.»
in Se numa noite de Inverno um viajante de Italo Calvino.
in Se numa noite de Inverno um viajante de Italo Calvino.
sábado, agosto 18, 2007
segunda-feira, junho 18, 2007
Quem disse que a escravatura acabou???
Antes pelo contrário, evoluiu de tal forma que os escravos se sentem livres, livres como passarinhos que só podem voar em círculos dentro da gaiola dourada...
sexta-feira, junho 15, 2007
Está tudo nos genes
Um estudo recente na área da cronobiologia concluiu que, atendendo a determinadas características genéticas, cada pessoa pertence a um de dois grupos: ao das “corujas”, se preferir acordar tarde e deitar-se também tarde; ou ao das “cotovias” se, pelo contrário, tiver tendência para acordar e para dormir cedo. É a velha dicotomia entre as 6 da manhã e as 6 da noite! Para além das diferenças óbvias dos fusos horários do relógio biológico, os resultados também sugerem que as “corujas” são mais produtivas em noitadas de estudo ou de trabalho, enquanto as “cotovias” resistem menos bem à falta de uma boa noite de sono.
Eu tenho uma forte desconfiança sobre qual dos grupos é que faço parte…

Eu tenho uma forte desconfiança sobre qual dos grupos é que faço parte…

domingo, maio 20, 2007
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