Monday, 31 March 2014

Books #3. Jeune Fille en Dior ....

In Jeune Fille en Dior, released in French bookstores in October, the illustrator Annie Goetzinger invites us to follow her heroine behind the scenes at 30 Avenue Montaigne, during the era of Monsieur Dior. 
A visual novel in which fiction mixes with the house's history with poetic freshness.

On February 1947, just before Christian Dior's debut fashion show, the level of excitement and anticipation was at fever pitch. It's here that the story of the house of Dior starts, and with it the story of Clara, a young reporter from a modest background for the magazine Jardin des Modes, the creation of the illustrator Annie Goetzinger. Through her awestruck eyes we rediscover the tony atmosphere of the house's historic heart and the rich clients coming to see the collection, the behind-the-scenes buzz, the attentiveness of Monsieur Dior to his "cheries" - the women who inspired him  - and his "jeunes filles" - the house models. And not forgetting the enthusiastic reaction of the journalists who, like Carmel Snow of Harper's Bazaar, sang the praises of the "New Look". As the fates of the couturier and Clara converge, with her also becoming a "jeune fille", the book retraces Dior's global success, the rituals preceding the showing of each collection, transporting us from Paris to Dallas, passing by Granville, until Christian Dior's death in 1957. 

For Annie Goetzinger, the author and illustrator of Jeune Fille en Dior, after having worked with the biggest names in comic book publishing, the idea of an illustrated novel about the house at 30 Avenue Montaigne arose quite naturally. "I wanted to recount how Dior built his house. There was a real before and after that famous fashion show of 1947." explained this woman who had grown up in a family of dressmakers before starting her career as a fashion illustrator. With equal priority given to the details of her drawings as to the facts they relate, Annie Goetzinger brings to life the creative yeats that shaped the house's foundation: a colourful story, as captivating to read as it is beautiful to look at.

Buy the book at Dargaud

Source: Dior Magazine


Monday, 24 March 2014

Saturday, 22 March 2014

Three Preludes and a White Swan ....

After Thursday night, I can say with absolute confidence that I can die happy without seeing the Pas de Deux of the White Swan from Swan Lake ever again. 
You might think this is a bit extreme but, trust me, if you had seen Lucía Lacarra and her partner Marlon Dino (and husband. Yes, I know, I hate her too...) perform it last night as part of the repertoire of the Bayerisches Staatsballet II, you would understand. 
The auditorium came to a complete standstill and from the moment she came one stage as this otherwordly creature, every single member of the audience held their breath. Her fluidity, extentions, her arms and above all, her artistic sensibility cast a spell which lasted 10 whole minutes. It is pointless to try and explain or convey the emotion I felt, even with a video, because it is something extremely magical to see it live. 

The other piece the two dancers performed was Three Preludes, with music by Sergei Rachmaninov and choreography by Ben Stevenson. This subtle and romantic pas de deux centers on two dancers who fall in love while training in a dance studio. The tree movements unravel at great velocity and intensity, paralel to the growing passion between the dancers. 
I have to say the first movement also took my breath away. Its simplicity, the clean lines of the choreography and the use of the barre make it an unbelievably beautiful piece. Also, I am sure it wouldn't have been the same if it had been any other pair of dancers. Dino and Lacarra share a chemistry and absolute symbiosis on stage that makes anything they do mesmerizing. 


Thursday, 20 March 2014

Spring is not near, it's here ...

Al siempre va. Mantengo mi postura.
Si sale nunca, la esperanza es muerte.
Si sale amor, la primavera avanza.

                                                                                                                Ángel González


Saturday, 15 March 2014

Looking Back. La Llamada / The Call ....

I remember reading this piece of writing at High School. It was during a mock exam for Spanish Language. Everybody was expecting an endless, boring article about the misuse of Vs and Bs but instead we found this surprisingly touching short story and a minute after, all the girls sighted and looked up with dreamy eyes, as if they had just felt the emotions written on the paper. 
 Is one of those fleeting moments that somehow stay in your memory long after you leave those halls. It was written and published in 2001 which means we already read it years afterwards and now, 11 years later, it feels as current as if it was written yesterday.
After last night's charade down memory lane with Britney, Black Street Boys and 50 cent, I though it was worth remembering, for old times' sake.



No había nadie en el bar salvo ellos dos, una pareja de adolescentes sentados frente a frente, bebiendo inocentes refrescos de naranja. En la mesa entre los vasos habían dejado abiertos los teléfonos móviles, que sonaban a veces y entonces él o ella se ponía a charlar alegremente con un ser ajeno e invisible mientras el otro se quedaba hierático. El chico estaba muy enamorado de la chica, pero era incapaz de manifestarle su pasión. Sólo se atrevía a mirarla con intensidad a los ojos y ella ya había captado las turbulencias del corazón de su amigo y también le amaba, pero no podía ayudarle en nada, debido a su extremada timidez. Hablaban de cosas anodinas, sin comprometerse en absoluto. Las palabras iban del uno al otro directamente a través de la vibración del aire sobre el mármol de la mesa. El chico necesitaba declararle su amor y la chica esperaba que lo hiciera ya de una vez, un sueño imposible, porque entre ellos había una barrera psicológica insalvable. Cualquier gesto o inflexión de voz, al estar sus rostros tan cerca, podía delatar un sentimiento íntimo y eso les llenaba de terror. Había media luz en el bar, el hilo musical vertía una melodía propicia y los labios de los enamorados permanecían a una mínima distancia infranqueable. El corazón de los adolescentes tiene hoy un compartimento más. Se compone de dos ventrículos, de dos aurículas y de un teléfono móvil, que también bombea sangre. De pronto, este joven tímido y enamorado tuvo una inspiración. Usó el móvil para hablar con la chica que tenía delante sin dejar de mirarla profundamente a los ojos. Cuando sonó la llamada la chica descolgó. La pareja comenzó a hablarse de forma descarnada como si fueran invisibles. Ninguno de los dos ignoraba que a través de los móviles su voz se convertía en ondas electromagnéticas, viajaba al espacio sideral y luego volvía para penetrar en el cerebro del otro. Brutalmente desinhibido el chico le dijo la amaba. La chica le contestó que todas las noches soñaba con él, pero sus expresiones de amor sin amarras tenían dos vehículos: una voz recorría el aire sobre la mesa del bar por medio de la vibración natural y sonaba terriblemente vulgar; la otra bajaba desde un satélite de la estratosfera cargada de libertad e imaginación. "Te amo, te amo"-le decía el chico. "Oigo dos voces a la vez, ¿a cuál de ellas debo creer?"- preguntó ella. El chico le dijo que creyera en el amor que a través de las ondas magnéticas le llegaba por la sangre hasta el corazón. 


There was nobody in the bar except two of them, a teenage couple sitting face to face, drinking innocent orange sodas. On the table between the glasses, they had left open their mobile phones, which buzzed at times and then he or she started chatting happily with someone else remote and invisible while the other remained inscrutable . The boy was very much in love with the girl, but was unable to express his passion. He only dared to look intently into her eyes and she had already captured the turmoil in his friend's heart and loved him back, but could not help him at all because of her extreme shyness . They talked about ordinary things, without compromising at all. The words went from one to another directly through the vibration of air on the marble table. The boy needed to declare his love and the girl expected it once and for all, an impossible dream because between them there was an insurmountable psychological barrier. Any gesture or inflection, being their faces so close, could reveal an intimate feeling, and that filled them with terror. The bar was half lit, the music propitious and the lover’s lips remained at a minimum impassable distance. The hearts of teens today have one more compartment. It consists of two ventricles and two atria of a mobile phone, which also pumps blood. Suddenly this young, shy and enamoured boy had an inspiration. He used the phone to talk to the girl in front of him without taking his eyes off her. When it rang the girl picked up the call. The couple began to speak with complete lack of inhibition, as if they were invisible. Both were aware that through the mobiles, their voices became electromagnetic waves traveling into space and then back to penetrate the brain of the other. Brutally uninhibited the boy said he loved her. The girl replied that every night she dreamed of him, but his expression of loosened love had two vehicles:  one voice travelled through the air over the table in the bar by  natural vibration and sounded terribly vulgar , the other came down from a stratospheric satellite charged with freedom and imagination . “I love you, I love you," the boy said. "I hear two voices at once, which of them should I believe?” - She asked. The boy told her to believe in the love which through the magnetic waves reached her through the blood and then to her heart .


Tuesday, 11 March 2014

Happy Birthday Miss M. ....

"Do you ever look at a picture of yourself and see a stranger in the background? It makes you wonder how many strangers have pictures of you. How many moments of other people's lives have we been in? Were we a part of someone's life when their dream came true? Or were we there when their dreams died? Did we keep trying to get in, as if we were somehow destined to be there? Or did the shock take us by surprise?
 Just think, you'd be a big part of someone else's life... and not even know it"

 "At this moment there are 6,470,818,671 people in the world. Some are running scared. Some are coming home. Some tell lies to make it through the day. Others are just now facing the truth. Some are evil men, at war with good. And some are good, struggling with evil.
Six billion people in the world. Six billion souls.
And sometimes — all you need is

Happy Birthday