one fold, three-fold, we all scream for manifold
I am a first-generation survivor of german and soviet occupation. I am also a TA for my mentor/professor. He is a once-jewish Hungarian shoah ["Holocaust"] and soviet occupation survivor. And in our class sits a Russian boy with the most beautiful name: Mikhail. We view Dziga Vertov's Man With a Movie Camera which is made by a german Jew about his brother [real name of Vertov: Kaufman]. It subverts capitalism and fascism, two-fold. More cleverly and less obviously, it subverts communism. We can talk about this if you want, but for now I'll leave it in short sentences.
Now, discussion: about how the film does in fact speak against communism. The Russian hand is raised. Speaks of Odessa. Speaks of bourgeouis leisure on the sea. And the Hungarian strikes down upon even the most innocent of the Russian's comments with wrath and fury. I wonder if I'm the only one that notices. He doesn't even let the student finish a sentence, barely even a word. The voice in desperation wavers and breaks. And there are decades of oppression and pain and violence flashing into Joe's memory - I can see it - his conquering voice carries it. And I'm really in the mess of it.
Mikhail's first piece of work for the class incorporated images of young children starving, being beaten, being homeless - with "made in russia" imprinted on one of their backs. These images contrasted American culture iconography. But very subtly, tastefully, painfully. I won't go into detail as if I'm an art critic but it was a strong project and not at all relying on hackneyed conventions.
My prof accused me of having a "crush" on the Russian boy. I barely had said anything about him at all.
So I'm in the mess of it, watching Joe's face and its expression of anger. How can I, of full Polish blood, possibly take interest in a Russian, he repeats to himself. A Russian who enslaved me and enslaved your family. And Joe's not the type of person to be racist or nationalist - but sometimes there's a history that bores into you like a hell. And he carries this hell in him, like I carry my family's hell.
Generations separate Joe and I. He was exactly three times my age last year. He's older than my parents and younger than my grand parents.
I had an American visitor in Poland who had a red-star belt buckle. Soviet propaganda is aesthetically irresistable in the states, I know. But there, we decided to tape over the red with black. There's a different history there.
So I think about the Red Scare here. I've always scoffed at it, siding with the communists, hating on Macarthy as much as humanly possible. He imprisoned some of the most talented artists of the time, for god's sake. If he was against the commies, well then fuck him, I'm for 'em!
But you look at the real history in Eastern Europe and things get more complicated. It really was serious. There really were countries fully occupied - it wasn't a game, it wasn't folly, and it certainly wasn't warm-and-fuzzy. It was a threat. It was horrible. But I still don't like what the Americans did with it. And I still don't like that I can no longer sport red-starred gear rebelliously with all the other hip kids.
I guess George Clooney is writing/directing/starring in a film about Macarthy and what not - black + white with lots of smoking, Ridge says. And this is what makes me remember.
And I want to know how it was in Russia then. How it is now.
Because if it's one thing I've learned it's this: never allow a nation's government to represent its citizens, because in reality, they rarely do.
[[Last night's Sporking was grand. Images here.]]
Now, discussion: about how the film does in fact speak against communism. The Russian hand is raised. Speaks of Odessa. Speaks of bourgeouis leisure on the sea. And the Hungarian strikes down upon even the most innocent of the Russian's comments with wrath and fury. I wonder if I'm the only one that notices. He doesn't even let the student finish a sentence, barely even a word. The voice in desperation wavers and breaks. And there are decades of oppression and pain and violence flashing into Joe's memory - I can see it - his conquering voice carries it. And I'm really in the mess of it.
Mikhail's first piece of work for the class incorporated images of young children starving, being beaten, being homeless - with "made in russia" imprinted on one of their backs. These images contrasted American culture iconography. But very subtly, tastefully, painfully. I won't go into detail as if I'm an art critic but it was a strong project and not at all relying on hackneyed conventions.
My prof accused me of having a "crush" on the Russian boy. I barely had said anything about him at all.
So I'm in the mess of it, watching Joe's face and its expression of anger. How can I, of full Polish blood, possibly take interest in a Russian, he repeats to himself. A Russian who enslaved me and enslaved your family. And Joe's not the type of person to be racist or nationalist - but sometimes there's a history that bores into you like a hell. And he carries this hell in him, like I carry my family's hell.
Generations separate Joe and I. He was exactly three times my age last year. He's older than my parents and younger than my grand parents.
I had an American visitor in Poland who had a red-star belt buckle. Soviet propaganda is aesthetically irresistable in the states, I know. But there, we decided to tape over the red with black. There's a different history there.
So I think about the Red Scare here. I've always scoffed at it, siding with the communists, hating on Macarthy as much as humanly possible. He imprisoned some of the most talented artists of the time, for god's sake. If he was against the commies, well then fuck him, I'm for 'em!
But you look at the real history in Eastern Europe and things get more complicated. It really was serious. There really were countries fully occupied - it wasn't a game, it wasn't folly, and it certainly wasn't warm-and-fuzzy. It was a threat. It was horrible. But I still don't like what the Americans did with it. And I still don't like that I can no longer sport red-starred gear rebelliously with all the other hip kids.
I guess George Clooney is writing/directing/starring in a film about Macarthy and what not - black + white with lots of smoking, Ridge says. And this is what makes me remember.
And I want to know how it was in Russia then. How it is now.
Because if it's one thing I've learned it's this: never allow a nation's government to represent its citizens, because in reality, they rarely do.
[[Last night's Sporking was grand. Images here.]]