Monarch butterflies swept into the sea
“’ Touched by a masterpiece, a person begins to hear in himself that same call of truth which prompted the artist to his creative act. When a link is established between the work and its beholder, the latter experiences a sublime, purging trauma. Within that aura which unites masterpieces and audience, the best sides of our souls are made known, and we long for them to be freed. In those moments we recognize and discover ourselves, the unfathomable depths of our own potential, and the furthest reaches of our emotions. ‘”
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
we are the dead (bowie)
with me this record just gets on repeat every now and again.
Play count: 25
Boris Karloff in Frankenstein (1931, dir. James Whale)
The first significant close-up in James Whale’s Frankenstein (1931) is that of the Monster’s hand. For all the energy, the sparking fireworks and thunderous cacophony of the spectacular creation scene, the one sign that life has been kindled in the artificial man is the slow movement of the gruesome hand, with its darkened fingertips and an ugly scar carving the wrist. It’s alive.
The classic “bolt head” Frankenstein is an icon of the 20th Century. Today, the image so permeates popular culture that it is almost impossible to imagine its power when it was first flashed on cinema screens 76 years ago. This scene, in its terrible beauty, still evokes how disconcerting, how utterly alien the first sight of this incredible face must have been.
Boris Karloff’s brilliant pantomime would make his Monster unforgettable, but never again would the character appear so mysterious, so utterly primal as here, in its introduction, when that impossible face came into the light and was seared into the collective consciousness.
-Pierre Fournier (via Classic Horror)
Creation scene viewable on youtube here.
Day two, I have managed to eat a banana.
