More cross medial or intermedial creations



Cross media seems to be the theme of the day. Where I was privileged to experience the ultimate in cross media with the 3D film of Carmen, today I was lucky enough to enjoy the mixed/cross media work of printer and fine artist, Ronald Chapeau at The Art Shop, in my home town.


The Art Shop opened Ronald Chapeau’s exhibition last Sunday. Apparently, the opening attracted a lot of attention. I missed it, as I was at the opera! But this morning, having the space to myself to stand back and soak in the work was perfect for me.

Ronald Chapeau uses photographs of some of my favourite actors, in particular Al Pacino as the young Don Corleone (naturally against the backdrop of Marlon Brando, the Godfather himself) and Heath Ledger as The Joker from the batman film, The Dark Knight. He repeatedly uses the same photograph on several canvasses as the basis for his creations. Then by using screen printing techniques and exciting, daring, bright almost fluorescent colour, turns each one into a unique work of art. It is then apparent how an identical image can be made to evoke a different reaction, emotion, when used in combination with other colours or other subliminal items (such as newspaper cuttings or quotes) on the canvas. It is the combination that does something to the senses.

It is no accident that on one of the Don Corleone canvasses a Sudoku puzzle from the newspaper is visible. No accident that bright yellow and garish purple figure strongly in the Joker canvasses and are apparently thrown on carelessly as though the paints have exploded, while the words “I am a simple man, I enjoy either dynamite or gunpowder”, cross the canvas.

Ronald Chapeau has mastered the art of subliminally manipulating the observer’s reaction. Several media: film, newspaper and photography are churned together on a canvas and used alongside strong, decisive painting techniques to create something new.

And it is precisely because of the subtext contained in the narrative of each of the media, that the end result is so powerful and evocative.

Carmen 3D – the ultimate crossmedial experience

Door de voorstelling van de Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, Londen, als 3D film te draaien, laat Theatercastellum, Alphen aan den Rijn, zien dat het een toonaangevend theater is. Gedurende bijna drie uur vanochtend werden wij in de wereld van Bizet’s Carmen meegenomen.

Kan iets tippen aan een live voorstelling? In één woord: Ja! Ik durf eigenlijk te stellen dat dit misschien een live voorstelling overstijgt. Waar bij een live uitvoering de kans bestaat dat je net te ver weg zit om alles echt te kunnen volgen, zit je met zo’n 3D film echt vooraan. Sterker nog, het is af en toe net alsof je zelf op het podium staat en een deelnemer bent. Carmen reikt haar hand uit en je wilt het vastpakken. Bloemblaadjes worden gestrooid en je wil ze van je gezicht afvegen. Koppel dat aan een fantastische surround sound en je zou bijna vergeten dat het alleen een film is! Ik ben erbij geweest en ik zeg met 100% overtuiging dat ik van deze voorstelling net zoveel genoot als van een live uitvoering, misschien zelfs meer.

Wat ik ook belangrijk vind is dat deze technologie de opera toegankelijker maakt voor een breder publiek. Waar je hier voorheen waarschijnlijk minstens een half jaar van tevoren kaarten voor moest reserveren en een aanzienlijk hoge prijs (zeker bij zo’n prestigieuze cast) zou betalen, kan je nu net zoveel genieten van de voorstelling voor een lagere prijs. En bij voldoende belangstelling kan een bioscoop ervoor kiezen om de film meerdere keren te draaien waardoor er meer mensen van kunnen genieten.

Ik geloof ook dat als dit aanslaat, opera eindelijk een groter publiek zal bereiken. Het wordt ook veel makkelijker om eens ‘iets aparts’ uit te proberen. Je hoeft immers niet naar een grote stad want de plaatselijke bioscoop kan deze 3D film ook draaien. Zeer laagdrempelig. En hoe zou dat kunnen zijn voor leerlingen van alle leeftijden om met een groep van school af en toe zo’n voorstelling bij te kunnen wonen. Fantastisch voor de algemene ontwikkeling.

Wat mij betreft is vanochtend een denderend succes geweest. Ik hoop dat dit maar een voorproefje is, slechts een begin. Ik verheug mij nu al op de volgende. Wie weet, Puccini en Madame Butterfly. Ik zal ervoor duimen! Ik heb ooit ‘Performance on the Edge’ gestudeerd aan de UvA. Wij deden onderzoek naar de meerwaarde van crossmedia en adaptation over alle soorten media. We leerden hoe je het beste een boek naar film kunt vertalen, hoe je van een toneelstuk een film maakt of de juiste manier om een film opnieuw te maken, om het scherper, moderner of gewoon anders te maken. Vanochtend was ik getuige van ‘the ultimate crossmedial ervaring’, dan wel van Live opera naar 3D film.

Theatercastellum, wat super dat je openstaat voor het nieuwste op het gebied van ‘crossover culture’. Ik ben er blij mee!

Voice, truth and courage

Since writing my previous blog on the film The King´s Speech, thoughts on speech and communication and a child´s need to have a voice have been occupied my mind. The film was most definitely food for a wide range of thoughts. And it had me mulling over various questions.


How many of us, in this life, struggle to have our voices heard?

How many more never let their true voice be heard but rather, bury their inquisitiveness in some deep, dark place inside and spend their lives keeping up a front?

How many act and speak in a way that is not truly authentic or a reflection of their best selves?

I suspect that the number is larger than we like to admit.

These are the people who live the lives of quiet desperation, yet seem on the surface quite normal and in fact average. But average they will remain. For them life is little more than survival and survival is achieved by spending enormous amounts of emotional energy either denying or suppressing any notion that there could be more.

These are the people who learned early on not to want too much, not to shine too much, but not too little either.

The ones who stammer should be glad. Their soul has chosen to give a sign that something is out of kilter. Where they have chosen to toe the line, their voice, or rather their struggle to have a voice cannot be hidden or buried away.

Overcoming the stammer forces them to face their stress and the discomfort that caused it in the first place.

It is true too for dysfunctional families. Some go unnoticed apart from the fact that they may appear a little odd as a unit, a little out of sync. Something intangible feels a little off centre, and you can’t quite put your finger on what it is.

Blessed then the families whose dysfunction is evidenced by a difficult child, one who refuses to toe that line and support the system. This is the brave child who has the courage to bring the dysfunction to the surface and who is willing to bear the burden for the entire family. This is the child who is prepared to smash the doll’s house and expose the lie, often at great psychological cost to himself. He does it because he wants to have a voice, and he wants to shout it out. He is the stammer that shakes up the entire family.

And the child who truly stammers, has maybe come from such a family (maybe not). His staccato speech may be the result of too much intimidation by the authority figures in his world, of too much criticism, of too much punishment for making a noise. They too are courageous and should be praised, much like Lionel praises Bertie in The King’s Speech and says

“You are the most courageous man I know.”

Because I have a voice

The words spoken by Bertie (George VI) to Lionel Logue, his speech therapist. This one phrase draws together a multitude of insecurities, pain, fear of ridicule and frustration that have cast a shadow over Bertie’s life.


His stammer has been at the root of much of his misery. It caused him to be teased and bullied by his brother and father. He has been the butt of many family jokes, even as a grown man. It is hard to know what is the chicken and what is the egg. History tells us that Bertie’s father, King George, was a harsh disciplinarian and a nightmare for a sensitive child like Bertie. Perhaps, then, what started out as simply a reaction to his father’s discipline, later became a serious speak impediment.

And that is the crux of the film The King’s Speech, and the basis for the rather unorthodox methods applied by Lionel Logue to ‘cure’ Bertie’s problem and facilitate his role of wartime king.

We can sum up The King’s Speech as - one man’s struggle to let the world know and hear that he has a voice and another’s struggle to win his trust and confidence, so that together they can rise above the fear and intimidation that cause and exacerbate Bertie’s impediment.

Exquisitly filmed, accompanied by an amazing sound track and with a script that is brought to life by a cast of superlative actors, that is the winning formula for The King’s Speech.

But there is even more to it than that. The chemistry between Colin Firth (Bertie) and Geoffrey Rush (Lionel Logue) is sincere and passionate. Geoffrey Rush is the perfect facilitator and lets Colin Firth shine in this magnificent role. In turn, Colin Firth at no point over plays his role or upstages his co star. Both jointly and separately play the role of their lives. A well deserved prize winning film, that at no time succumbs to sentimentality or pity.

The Solitude of Prime Numbers

Since taking the course in Adaptation at the University of Amsterdam, I have learned to appreciate the whole process of dissecting, analyzing, and re-inventing particular books for filming or dramatization of another form. When it comes to the adaptation book to film, I have come to regard the film as an extraction of the original piece of work. In the best case sticking to the original narrative, in the worst, deviating so drastically it bears little resemblance to the source material, perhaps not even aimed at affecting the reader (observer) consumer in the same way.

A book to film adaptation that best illustrates the latter is A Beautiful Mind, a big budget Hollywood movie on the life of Mathematical genius, John Nash. The film in no shape or form resembles the movie (or vice versa, I should say) apart from the fact that both have John Nash as the central character. The film is a dramatic one, with elements of a love story, and a personal struggle. The book is a biography, and written with very little poetic licence. It is a factual chronicle of a schizophrenic genius. It can be appreciated on an entirely different level than the film. It is devoid of drama or even sympathy. It is a factual, clinical work, and is so far removed from the tone and narrative of the film to have little bearing on the appreciation for either or both.

However, when choosing to watch a film that has been adapted from a novel or other book, I have come to the conclusion that it is better to be familiar with the source material before watching a film, or as is the case with the works of Annie Proulx, be interested in the dramatized version only and skip the novel completely (a personal opinion). The stories of Annie Proulx are perfectly suited for screening, the narrative and characterization are always wonderful, I just have a problem getting into her style an sticking it out to the last page. Thus, I enjoy her stories after adaptation.

In The Solitude of Prime Numbers, I am less sure of the film’s relationship to the novel. Do they stand apart, do they concur, or do they meet somewhere in between? I am not sure.
I saw the film The Solitude of Prime Numbers without being familiar with the novel. It was a wonderful piece of artistic cinema, with characters that had depth and honesty. Reality was harsh at times, and the two main characters, Alice and Mattia had more than their fair share of troubles as children; troubles that left them scarred and lonely and almost unable to reach out across the abyss and so heal their damaged spirits.

I loved the film; I was enthralled by the narrative itself and the manner in which it was depicted. The director chose for a stark style, yet managed to subdue the tone, play down certain elements, and emphasise others. It was definitely a ‘show don’t tell’ atmosphere, playing up to the critical abilities and intelligence of the observer. The story flowed smoothly; the progression was logical, understandable, even when it was shocking and painful. We understand what motivates Alice and Mattia, yet we are relieved in the end that they reach a place of peace and forgiveness and are finally open to allow themselves to hope for a better future.

Not so the novel. The narrative here is less smooth, less homogenous. It chops and changes, reverts quite significantly to ‘telling instead of showing’ and lays certain incidents on too thickly, while under-describing others. It is at times abrupt and illogical in its progression, and at times has sidelines that could easily be erased without detracting from the main narrative.

But, it is the conclusion that disappoints most. Having seen the film (unfortunately), I did not expect the desolate, hopeless, futile rounding off that the author dished up. Utterly unpalatable.

Perhaps if I had not previously been served the semi-happy ending of the film this desolation would have hit less hard. I might have been more accepting of the ‘no happily ever after’ for these two.

Having said all of that, I would still recommend the novel, purely because of the writing style and the fresh voice of the writer. The story line is of itself innovative, original, thought provoking and starkly realistic.
I would recommend the film too, but as a separate creation.

Novel lovers, read the book first to avoid disappointment.