Beauties of Stage and Cinema

Today our Symbolism and Decadence lecture was postponed, and the professor arranged for us to watch The Dying Swan (Umirayushcii Lebed), a silent Russian film from 1917, directed by Yevgeni Bauer. Most of my classmates scoffed and chewed gum throughout, and indeed there are moments of the film that, to our modern sensibilities, seem mawkish or silly, and who knows, perhaps they did in 1917, too. Despite this, however, it is a haunting film, a gem of silent cinema. One caveat, however, and that is the rendition of The Dying Swan displayed in the film. Ah, no one could do it like Maya Plisetskaya. Behold: (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fWYYQN-6tJg).


Trying to describe anything she has done is like trying to describe In Search of Lost Time. Whatever I may say will be inaccurate, inarticulate, inadequate.

While on the subject of dance, here is a wonderful rendition of what must have been an even more magical performance by the imitable Loie Fuller. Shot by the Lumiere brothers! Is she a moth? A flower? A chimera?

***

It was an interesting experience watching a silent movie amidst a room of people. Old films are a good litmus test for concentration and attention span, and the devil knows that such things grow in scarcity as the years pass. Thank goodness for newer films raising awareness of older ones, such as Cinema Paradiso, The Dreamers, and others, not to mention Turner Classic Movies, aka One of My Only Friends in High School. A great documentary came out in 2005 about Henri Langlois, the true Hero of Cinema. He ought to be sainted. Hopefully preservation work continues at a diligent pace, as reels are mouldering away at this very moment...

Come Unto These Yellow Leaves

He wha tills the fairies' green

Nae luck again shall hae :

And he wha spills the fairies' ring

Betide him want and wae.

For weirdless days and weary nights

Are his till his deein' day.

But he wha gaes by the fairy ring,

Nae dule nor pine shall see,

And he wha cleans the fairy ring

An easy death shall dee.

***

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Cats and Cookies

Meet Lapushka, the wee Persian we adopted a few weeks ago from the Greenhill Humane Society. She's an absolute doll, despite her tendency to walk over our faces at night. A kitty-friend, at last...

Les Chats

Les amoureux fervents et les savants austères
Aiment également, dans leur mûre saison,
Les chats puissants et doux, orgueil de la maison,
Qui comme eux sont frileux et comme eux sédentaires.

Amis de la science et de la volupté
Ils cherchent le silence et l'horreur des ténèbres;
L'Erèbe les eût pris pour ses coursiers funèbres,
S'ils pouvaient au servage incliner leur fierté.

Ils prennent en songeant les nobles attitudes
Des grands sphinx allongés au fond des solitudes,
Qui semblent s'endormir dans un rêve sans fin;

Leurs reins féconds sont pleins d'étincelles magiques,
Et des parcelles d'or, ainsi qu'un sable fin,
Etoilent vaguement leurs prunelles mystiques.

— Charles Baudelaire

***

After nearly half a year, I finally felt confident enough to purchase some flour, as the moth scourge has subsided and the weather has turned crummy. My first tentative venture back into the land of baking began last night with a batch of Scotchies, oatmeal cookies with butterscotch morsels. They didn't come out quite like my mom's but were decadent and wonderful nonetheless. Here's the recipe I used:

Scotchies

1 cup whole wheat flour

1 1/2 cups old fashioned oatmeal

1/2 cup brown sugar

1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

1 tbs cinnamon

Dash of dessicated ginger

1/2 cup oil

2 egg whites

2 tsp vanilla

2 tbs honey


Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Mix dry ingredients in a large bowl.

Mix wet ingredients in a medium bowl, beating the egg mixture until slightly fluffy.

Add wet ingredients to dry ingredients with a wooden spoon. Gradually stir in 1/2 to 1 package butterscotch morsels.

Drop by rounded tablespoonfuls onto a nonstick or greased cookie sheet. Bake for 10 minutes.