Artist: Das Naiz
A painter, sculptor, designer and choreographer; Oskar Schlemmer combined his work in both sculpture and theater to create an eccentric ballet in 1922 “Das Triadisches Ballett” (The Triadic Ballet). Limited choreography, bulky geometric and sculptural costumes. Deliberated mechanical and mathematical dance movements with a background with emphasised perspective and clean lines. All strangely mesmerizing.
The international woman no longer plays the rules of the old patriarchal society. This rejection has left a worldwide state of confusion. Who Am I? Many women ask themselves. To understand her, men have to ask themselves this question too: Who Am I as a Man?
Be strong everyone says. We want strong women. We want to empower girls and women. The future is female, they say! She is encouraged to be well educated. Good looking. Clever. Smart. Sweet. Articulated. Witty. Career-person. Sexy. Ambitious. Independent.
In some societies the woman is seen as a pedigree, albeit an important one, as if she looks like a million dollars, her husband will be a sought-after and respectable business man - ‘Look at his wife, he is doing well. We want what he has’. In her shine, he, the husband rises, but in his shadow, she, the wife is reduced to a materialist breeder.
Others are born as a low cast. Doomed a future with no future in it. Here progress or advancement are only meant for the nobleness, the privileged. Maybe if she is lucky, she can use her looks and body as a mean to climb the social status ladder. Or perhaps she finds herself trapped inside single-motherhood on welfare benefits, stigmatised by the system. She could also be a full-time working mother, judged by her lack of time and energy, yet she still gets up at 5am to bake spelt bread to impress her contemporaries. And by the way, 'how is the career going', she is asked, in-between the Hatha and Bikram yoga classes.
Perhaps she sees herself as a liberated and independent woman, who confidently explores her own sexuality and sensuality. Only to be called out as a femme fatale, locked inside the narrow-minded Madonna and Whore syndrome. Puritans, moralists and other condemning voices shouts at her: "Take her down. She asked for it”. Modern life has given her independency, but paradoxically its anxieties also dispel her. Sees her as being intimidating. An unfit.
What does the modern woman do? Does she follow rules of the old heavy ideas or rebel against and become an outcast? Some are even rejected by their own family. Blood being thicker than water no longer counts as valid, not even within the most conservative blood-linage societies.
Does she dare to seek her own happiness or is happiness gender-specific?
The international woman is all of that, yet none of it and then again so much more. She is in the process of defining herself and thereby the future.
Sergei Paradjanov, makes an earnest attempt to fuse poetry and film by seriously exploring the poetic potential of the cinema. This deliriously beautiful film is made up of autonomous, resonant images that – like lines of poetry – stay in the mind long after the film has run its course. The Colour of Pomegranates seems to resist or even defy explanation... (read the rest of review here)
damn pride, damn shame
why didn't you tell
the greatest pain
my heart bleeds
my tears weep
I let you down,
I let us down
Myself and you, my dearest friend.
I cry, I feel
my sweetest friend
you tried to tell,
too many times
but pride and shame
kept your words away.
"Better" to pretend,
glories of the past
on and on and on and on...
People sit in their separate identity silos and SHOUT at each other: My culture is BETTER THAN YOURS. My colour is BETTER THAN YOURS....