{"id":1882,"date":"2007-11-13T20:00:32","date_gmt":"2007-11-13T20:00:32","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/?p=1882"},"modified":"2018-01-25T14:54:49","modified_gmt":"2018-01-25T14:54:49","slug":"the-road-to-who-knows-where","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/2007\/11\/13\/the-road-to-who-knows-where\/","title":{"rendered":"The Road to Who Knows Where"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: center;\">ngg_shortcode_0_placeholder<\/p>\n<p><strong>THE ROAD TO WHO KNOWS WHERE<br \/>\nLondon Roxy Bar and Screen<br \/>\nTuesday 13 November 2007, at 8pm<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Two fragmented and dysfunctional road movies imagined as a series of episodic vignettes or misty memories. Jessie Stead\u2019s <em>Foggy Mountains Breakdown More Than Non-Foggy Mountains<\/em>, a cryptic album of weird and wonderful versions of Flatt &amp; Scrugg\u2019s bluegrass standard won first prize at the Ann Arbor Film Festival. <em>The Secret Apocalyptic Love Diaries<\/em> of Enid Baxter Blader is a windswept folk-poem shot on a homemade video camera. Both cast a discreet nod of recognition to Harry Smith\u2019s Anthology of American Folk Music.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Enid Baxter Blader, <\/strong><strong>Secret Apocalyptic Love Diaries, <\/strong><strong>USA, 2006-07, 12 min<br \/>\nJesse Stead, <\/strong><strong>Foggy Mountains Breakdown More Than Non-Foggy Mountains<\/strong><strong>, USA, 2006, 59 min<\/strong><\/p>\n<a onclick=\"wpex_toggle(1640373769, 'PROGRAMME NOTES', 'Read less'); return false;\" class=\"wpex-link\" id=\"wpexlink1640373769\" href=\"#\">PROGRAMME NOTES<\/a><div class=\"wpex_div\" id=\"wpex1640373769\" style=\"display: none;\"><\/p>\n<p><strong>THE ROAD TO WHO KNOWS WHERE<br \/>\n<\/strong>London Roxy Bar and Screen<br \/>\nTuesday 13 November 2007, at 8pm<\/p>\n<p><strong>THE SECRET APOCALYPTIC LOVE DIARIES<br \/>\nEnid Baxter Blayder, USA, 2006-07, video, b\/w, sound, 12 min<br \/>\n<\/strong>\u201c<em>Secret Apocalyptic Love Diaries<\/em> consists of vignettes that document blinding lightning storms, violent rainfalls, and other radical, dramatic forces of nature, which are interspersed between narrative snippets that capture accidental, unscripted exchanges between friends and couples. From these vulnerable moments an intimate portrait emerges, one that depicts stumbling friendships and romantic relationships that start up and inevitably turn disappointing. The sense of vulnerability is enhanced by the video\u2019s music, which was largely composed and performed by the artist, an accomplished singer, banjo player, and bluegrass musician originally from Appalachia. Sweet and tender, and awed by the ability of others to inspire and astonish, <em>Secret Apocalyptic Love Diaries<\/em> portends an inevitable, inexorable disappointment even in the most optimistic moments, such as the earliest days of a budding relationship. Its characters are vulnerable to forces of nature, both external or internal; to the affections and whims of others; to a driving rain that extinguishes one\u2019s cigarette; to the unsettling presence of a lover\u2019s former lover. From a howling dog accompanying a blues musician\u2019s plaintive harmonica, to a group of bored friends standing around drinking while playing casually with power tools, to floodwaters pouring over a country road, the quiet melancholy in <em>Secret Apocalyptic Love Diaries<\/em> is as palpable as dark billows of smoke filling up a big clear sky.\u201d (Irene Tsatsos)<\/p>\n<p><strong>FOGGY MOUNTAINS BREAKDOWN MORE THAN NON-FOGGY MOUNTAINS<br \/>\nJessie Stead, USA, 2006, video, colour, sound, 59 min<br \/>\n<\/strong>\u201cThere are simultaneously many non-personal (structural, social and historical) reasons the bluegrass music instrumental <em>Foggy Mountain Breakdown<\/em> inspired the motion picture <em>Foggy Mountains Breakdown More Than Non-Foggy Mountains<\/em>. I cannot deny, however, that a highly distinctive resonance with this piece of music can be traced back to the newly formed eardrums of my own literal infancy. My biological father, having the daily habit of picking bluegrass banjo, accidentally subjected me to this instrumental (among others) as I did my time in the womb. The very fact of this inadvertent exposure, and what I can hazily identify as the primal origins of my personal sonic memory, lead me to confront <em>Foggy Mountain Breakdown<\/em> as the anachronistic soundtrack for the dawn of my awakening consciousness. In a macro sense, however, as representation of the bluegrass music genre (one identified as native to the USA, relatively speaking) <em>Foggy Mountain Breakdown<\/em>\u2019s resonance as music will depend heavily on the social landscape it overlays. Its associations today are unquestionably nostalgic and instantly lend themselves to a stereotypically American \u2018low-brow\u2019 set of clich\u00e9d references; southern, rural, poor, white, etc. (especially within social constructions which identify with realities outside of these). In other words, the question of whether or not it is considered \u201cenjoyable\u201d may rely more on a degree of favour or distrust for the associations it recalls within the ear of the beholder(s), rather than on an evaluation of its formal characteristics. That said, how possible is the distillation of anything? How valuable is it? <em>FMB MT N-FM<\/em>\u2019s premier flight of fancy is to pose these questions as animals bleached by the sun. These are questions of exposure and relativity \u2026 variety and socio-cultural identity \u2026 idealism and destination \u2026 the foggy mountain and the non-foggy mountain \u2026 and finally, the literal and the metaphysical question of where one maps oneself on the \u2018world stage\u2019.\u201d (Jessie Stead)<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"#top\">Back to top<\/a><\/p>\n<p><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Alina Rudnitskaya\u2019s humanistic approach to documentary filmmaking often brings out the humour in her chosen subjects. As an introduction to her work, this programme depicts three diverse groups of contemporary Russian women.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[73],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1882","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-the-wire-25"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1882","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1882"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1882\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1882"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1882"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1882"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}