94 resultados para Cinemas NOS
Resumo:
La tesi és una investigació histórica que presenta el fet musical a la ciutat de Girona, i inclou una paronòmica general de la història musical de les principals poblacions de les seves comarques: Olot, Figueres, Banyoles. ripoll, La Bisbal d'Empordà, Sant Feliu de Guíxols, etc. Està organitzada metodològicament en un marc cronològic i una metodologia positivista, intentant reflexar la verdadera història de la música a la ciutat de Girona amb tots i cadascun dels seus personatges i les seves institucions. La recerca s'emmarca al voltant de les corrents artístiques i polítiques de cada moment: Modernisme, Noucentisme, República, Guerra Civil, Franquisme i Democràcia. De cadascuna d'ella s'ha investigat sobre les orquestres, les cobles i les sardanes, els grups de música de cambra, la música en els cafès, la música en la intimitat de les cases particulars, el desenvolupament laboral de la professió musical a travès de la història del Sindicat i la Mútua de Músics, les sales de ball, els cinemes amb música en directe, els crítics musicals, etc. La recerca porta a la conclusió final de què l'època de millor esplendor, de més qualitat i també quantitat de música a la ciutat i comarques, i que ha viscut un millor ambient musical en tota la història, és el període que va des de principis del segle XX fins a l'esclat de la Guerra Civil (1900-1936)
Resumo:
El desplaçament forçós de les persones no combatents ha estat un tret intrínsec al llarg dels conflictes que han sacsejat la història de la humanitat. La forma més comuna en què s'ha manifestat ha estat la de les deportacions i la de les evacuacions de les zones de guerra. Les primeres ja les podem constatar en nombrosos episodis bíblics o durant la construcció del vell imperi romà. Tanmateix, ha estat a la nostra època quan les deportacions han tingut un abast més dissortat. D'una banda l'anomenada "neteja ètnica" ha implicat, com a primer pas abans de l'extermini d'una comunitat, el seu trasllat a guetos i el posterior desplaçament als camps de concentració. Tals foren els casos de les minories jueva i gitana sota el terror nazi. D'altra banda, hem pogut veure la deportació de col·lectius socials com a càstig per mantenir una determinada actitud davant el poder; el paradigma més tràgic ha estat la dels kulaks de l'antiga Unió Soviètica durant la dictadura estalinista. Finalment, en aquests moments, estem assistint als Balcans a l'enquistament d'un conflicte una de les causes del qual fou la pretensió de crear espais ètnics "purs", per a la qual cosa s'ha obligat la comunitat minoritària a fugir a un altre territori amb la pressió de les armes. La guerra civil de 1936-1939 és el primer conflicte europeu en què apareix la necessitat de traslladar un gran nombre de persones davant del perill que representen els combats. El fet de produir-se en una guerra civil en ple segle XX li dóna una dimensió pròpia, i també que els governs hagin de dissenyar i aplicar unes polítiques d'assistència, de les quals, tal com ja s'ha dit, no existien precedents.
Resumo:
This book studies the ressurgence of the utopian gesture in Brazilian Cinema from the mid-1990s onwards, as well as its variations and negations. The analysis identifies trajectories of rise and fall, which reflect oscillations in the political scenario, and includes a retrospective look at utopian traditions of the Brazilian cinematic past, in turn derived from the nation's foundational myths. At the same time, it considers the ways in which recent Brazilian film production transcends Cinema Novo's national project to interacts with modern, postmodern and commercial cinemas of the world, thus benefiting from and contributing to a new transnational cinematic aesthetics.
Resumo:
The crisis of the national project in the early 1990s, caused by a short-lived but disastrous government, led Brazilian art cinema, for the first time, to look at itself as periphery and re-approach the old colonial center, Portugal. Terra estrangeira/Foreign Land (Walter Salles & Daniela Thomas, Brazil/Portugal, 1995), a film about Brazilian exiles in Portugal, is the best illustration of this perspective shift which provides a new sense of Brazil’s scale and position within a global context. Shot mainly on location in São Paulo, Lisbon and Cape Verde, it promotes the encounter of Lusophone peoples who find a common ground in their marginal situation. Rather than as a former empire, Portugal is defined by its situation at the edge of Europe and by beliefs such as Sebastianism, whose origins go back to the time when the country was dominated by Spain. As a result, notions of “core” or “center” are devolved to the realm of myth. The film’s carefully crafted dialogue combines Brazilian, Portuguese and Creole linguistic peculiarities into a common dialect of exclusion, while language puns trigger visual rhymes which refer back to the Cinema Novo (the Brazilian New Wave) repertoire and restage the imaginary of the discovery turned into unfulfilled utopia. The main characters also acquire historical resonances, as they are depicted as descendants of Iberian conquistadors turned into smugglers of precious stones in the present. Their activities define a circuit of international exchange which resonates with that of globalized cinema, a realm in which Foreign Land, made up of citations and homage to other cinemas, tries to retrieve a sense of belonging.
Resumo:
However common it has become, the term World Cinema still lacks a proper, positive definition. Despite its all-encompassing, democratic vocation, it is not usually employed to mean cinema worldwide. On the contrary, the usual way of defining it is restrictive and negative, as ‘the non-Hollywood cinema’. Needless to say, negation here translates a positive intention to turn difference from the dominant model into a virtue to be rescued from an unequal competition. However, it unwittingly sanctions the American way of looking at the world, according to which Hollywood is the centre and all other cinemas are the periphery. As an alternative to this model, this chapter proposes: • World Cinema is simply the cinema of the world. It has no centre. It is not the other, but it is us. It has no beginning and no end, but is a global process. World Cinema, as the world itself, is circulation. • World Cinema is not a discipline, but a method, a way of cutting across film history according to waves of relevant films and movements, thus creating flexible geographies. • As a positive, inclusive, democratic concept, World Cinema allows all sorts of theoretical approaches, provided they are not based on the binary perspective.
Resumo:
This article departs from the assumption that a certain section of world cinema, usually defined as ‘independent’, has been evolving on the basis of good scripts. Between the late 1980s and early 90s, there has been a boom of new cinemas in the world, such as the new Iranian, Taiwanese, Japanese, Mexican, Argentine and Brazilian cinemas. A significant part of this production shows a renewed interest in local and national peculiarities of their respective countries, going against the grain of globalisation and its typical cultural dilution. Most of these films are also engaged in reassessing narrative cinema, as a kind of reaction against the deconstructive work carried out by postmodern cinema of the 1980s.Recent new cinemas are supported by a combination of local and international resources, derived from public and private sponsors at home, and funding agencies, festivals and TV channels abroad. In most cases funds are granted after the film script has been analysed and approved by commissions of experts. The New Brazilian Cinema, or cinema da retomada as it is locally called, has been enormously affected by this scheme, which has even caused a ‘script boom’ in Brazil in the past decade. The chapter examins the results of this process.
Resumo:
The crisis of the national project in the early 1990s, caused by a short-lived but disastrous government, led Brazilian art cinema, for the first time, to look at itself as periphery and re-approach the old colonial centre, Portugal. Terra estrangeira/Foreign Land (Walter Salles & Daniela Thomas, Brazil/Portugal, 1995), a film about Brazilian exiles in Portugal, is the best illustration of this perspective shift aimed at providing a new sense of Brazil’s scale and position within a global context. Shot mainly on location in São Paulo, Lisbon and Cape Verde, it promotes the encounter of Lusophone peoples who find a common ground in their marginal situation. Even Portugal is defined by its location at the edge of Europe and by beliefs such as Sebastianism, whose origins go back to the time when the country was dominated by Spain. As a result, notions of ‘core’ or ‘centre’ are devolved to the realm of myth. The film’s carefully crafted dialogues combine Brazilian, Portuguese and Creole linguistic peculiarities into a common dialect of exclusion, while language puns trigger visual rhymes which refer back to the Cinema Novo (the Brazilian New Wave) repertoire and restage the imaginary of the discovery turned into unfulfilled utopia. The main characters also acquire historical resonances, as they are depicted as descendants of Iberian conquistadors turned into smugglers of precious stones in the present. Their activities define a circuit of international exchange which resonates with that of globalized cinema, a realm in which Foreign Land, made up of citations and homage to other cinemas, tries to retrieve a sense of belonging.
Resumo:
Duras’s theatre work has been profoundly neglected by UK theatre academics and practitioners, and Eden Cinema has almost no performance history in Britain. My project asked three interconnected research questions: how developing the performance contributes to understanding Duras’s theatre and specifically Eden Cinema’s problems of performability; how multimedia performance emphasising mediated sound and the live body reconfigures memory, autobiography, storytelling, gender and racial identity; how to locate a performance style appropriate for Durasian narratives of displacement and death which reflect the discontinuous and mutable form of Duras’s ‘texte/film/théâtre’. Drawing on my research interests in gender, post-colonial hybridity and performed deconstruction, I focused my staging decisions on the discontinuities and ambivalences of the text. I addressed performability by avoiding the temptation to resolve the strange ellipses in the text and instead evoked the text’s imperfect and fragmented memories, and its uncertain spatial and temporal locations, by means of a fluid theatrical form. The mise-en-scène represented imagined and remembered spaces simultaneously, and co-existing historical moments. The performance style counterpointed live and mediated action and audio-visual forms. A complex through-composed soundscape, comprising voice-over, sound and music, became a key means for evoking overlapping temporalities, interconnected narratives and fragmented memories that were dispersed across the performance. The disempowerment of the mother figure and the silent indigenous servant in the text was demonstrated through their spatial centrality but physical stillness. The servant’s colonial subaltern identity was paralleled and linked with the mother’s disenfranchisement through their proxemic relationships. I elicited a performance style which evoked ‘characters’, whose being was deferred across different regimes of reality and who ‘haunted’ the stage rather than inhabited it. I developed the project further in the additional written outcomes and presentations, and the subsequent performance of Savannah Bay where problems of performability intensify until embodiment is almost erased except via voice.
Resumo:
This chapter re-evaluates the diachronic, evolutionist model that establishes the Second World War as a watershed between classical and modern cinemas, and ‘modernity’ as the political project of ‘slow cinema’. I will start by historicising the connection between cinematic speed and modernity, going on to survey the veritable obsession with the modern that continues to beset film studies despite the vagueness and contradictions inherent in the term. I will then attempt to clarify what is really at stake within the modern-classical debate by analysing two canonical examples of Japanese cinema, drawn from the geidomono genre (films on the lives of theatre actors), Kenji Mizoguchi’s Story of the Late Chrysanthemums (Zangiku monogatari, 1939) and Yasujiro Ozu’s Floating Weeds (Ukigusa, 1954), with a view to investigating the role of the long take or, conversely, classical editing, in the production or otherwise of a supposed ‘slow modernity’. By resorting to Ozu and Mizoguchi, I hope to demonstrate that the best narrative films in the world have always combined a ‘classical’ quest for perfection with the ‘modern’ doubt of its existence, hence the futility of classifying cinema in general according to an evolutionary and Eurocentric model based on the classical-modern binary. Rather than on a confusing politics of the modern, I will draw on Bazin’s prophetic insight of ‘impure cinema’, a concept he forged in defence of literary and theatrical screen adaptations. Anticipating by more than half a century the media convergence on which the near totality of our audiovisual experience is currently based, ‘impure cinema’ will give me the opportunity to focus on the confluence of film and theatre in these Mizoguchi and Ozu films as the site of a productive crisis where established genres dissolve into self-reflexive stasis, ambiguity of expression and the revelation of the reality of the film medium, all of which, I argue, are more reliable indicators of a film’s political programme than historical teleology. At the end of the journey, some answers may emerge to whether the combination of the long take and the long shot are sufficient to account for a film’s ‘slowness’ and whether ‘slow’ is indeed the best concept to signify resistance to the destructive pace of capitalism.
Resumo:
Philosophy has repeatedly denied cinema in order to grant it artistic status. Adorno, for example, defined an ‘uncinematic’ element in the negation of movement in modern cinema, ‘which constitutes its artistic character’. Similarly, Lyotard defended an ‘acinema’, which rather than selecting and excluding movements through editing, accepts what is ‘fortuitous, dirty, confused, unclear, poorly framed, overexposed’. In his Handbook of Inaesthetics, Badiou embraces a similar idea, by describing cinema as an ‘impure circulation’ that incorporates the other arts. Resonating with Bazin and his defence of ‘impure cinema’, that is, of cinema’s interbreeding with other arts, Badiou seems to agree with him also in identifying the uncinematic as the location of the Real. This article will investigate the particular impurities of cinema that drive it beyond the specificities of the medium and into the realm of the other arts and the reality of life itself. Privileged examples will be drawn from various moments in film history and geography, starting with the analysis of two films by Jafar Panahi: This Is Not a Film (In film nist, 2011), whose anti-cinema stance in announced in its own title; and The Mirror (Aineh, 1997), another relentless exercise in self-negation. It goes on to examine Kenji Mizoguchi’s deconstruction of cinematic acting in his exploration of the geidomono genre (films about theatre actors) in The Story of the Last Chrysanthemums (Zangigku monogatari, 1939), and culminates in the conjuring of the physical experience of death through the systematic demolition of film genres in The Act of Killing (Joshua Oppenheimer et al., 2012).
Resumo:
O trabalho compreende a análise da descrição do projeto Cinema na Roça, que foi desenvolvido para realizar exibições gratuitas de filmes em localidades do interior do estado do Rio de Jeneiro, desprovidas de cinemas e videolocadoras.O projeto foi inciado em agosto de 2005 e o presente estudo está pautado na observação dos acontecimentos ao longo da realização das sessões mais significativas para o projeto.
Resumo:
A partir das transformações ocorridas nos espaços arquiteturais, sociais e urbanos do Rio de Janeiro nas últimas décadas do século XIX e início do século XX, a dissertação analisa o processo de inserção do cinema como objeto de ressignificação da Praça Marechal Floriano, nomeada Cinelândia na década de 1930. Supondo que este sentido empregado ao local não está somente na construção ou transformação dos prédios dos cinemas, mas nas ressignificações operadas pelo meio social, a análise assinala a importância do projeto do empresário espanhol Francisco Serrador Carbonell, que construiu no local um complexo de cine-teatros que tinha o objetivo de recriar a atmosfera da Broadway de Nova Iorque nos anos 1920. A hipótese é que as reformas urbanísticas empreendidas décadas atrás e que tinham como objetivo inserir a cidade do Rio de Janeiro como símbolo da modernidade brasileira tenham contribuído para desencadear investimentos como os de Serrador. A cidade ganhou ares cosmopolitas, atraiu os investidores internacionais e recebeu enorme contingente de imigrantes estabelecendo as bases sociais e mercadológicas para a recepção do modelo industrial do cinema americano, que Serrador trouxe ao Brasil. O trabalho de pesquisa observou as mudanças de significado operadas na Praça Floriano. Após a reforma do prefeito Pereira Passos o local se tornou símbolo nacional da esfera pública republicana e posteriormente após a Primeira Guerra Mundial se tornou um espaço popular. As salas de cinema de Serrador proporcionaram uma experiência social e urbana.
Resumo:
O presente estudo teve como objetivo testar se a situação econômica teve um impacto sobre os hábitos de consumo de cinema na França, no período contemporâneo (1992-2012). O estudo aborda a relação entre indicadores econômicos e consumo de cinema em um nível agregado e, em seguida, analisa se os vários tipos de filmes, tipos de cinemas e categorias de cinéfilos foram mais ou menos foram afetados pelo estado da economia. No nível agregado, estudos semelhantes já foram realizados em outros países. Este estudo confirma os resultados para a França: como em outros países desenvolvidos, a situação da economia tem pouca influência no consumo de cinema e o setor é resiliente. Este trabalho também traz novas análises detalhadas sobre o comportamento de vários sub-tipos de filmes, segmentos de locais e categorias de consumidores. Ele demonstra que para a maior parte dessas sub-categorias, drivers do mercado são oferta e preço, e que a situação da economia tem pouca influência. Quanto ao tipo de cinema, o estudo argumenta que, comparativamente, cinemas grandes conseguem crescer durante o período de crise.
Resumo:
Tendo como ponto de partida um conjunto de trailers cinematográficos, provenientes de salas de cinemas em declínio, este trabalho de investigação artística explora uma série de códigos, imagens gráficas e informações industriais, encontradas na periferia dessas bobinas fílmicas, que servem de orientação aos técnicos laboratoriais e aos projeccionistas. Sustentado nos conceitos de esconderijo (Bazin), intervalo (Vertov) e obtuso (Barthes), Head, Tail, Rail procura reflectir sobre o que está para além daquilo que os filmes, normalmente, mostram. Com recurso ao found footage e a várias técnicas de montagem, este trabalho pretende transformar as matérias fílmicas (película, imagem e som) em novas e regeneradas composições audiovisuais, sem qualquer referencial, extraindo daí o obtuso das imagens fílmicas.