78! Thank you for all of the birthday wishes! Manhattan, New York
78! Thank you for all of the birthday wishes! Manhattan, New York
78! Thank you for all of the birthday wishes! Manhattan, New York
Northeast Harbor, Maine
Northeast Harbor, Maine
Northeast Harbor, Maine
Northeast Harbor, Maine
Northeast Harbor, Maine
Northeast Harbor, Maine
Thank you to my daughter @francesca.scorsese for this lovely gift! An original painting by @_aarongigi .
TITLE : MEAN STREETS
Details about the piece:
Hand painted on plexiglass and vintage photographs, articles, and cement on a wood panel.
Size is 30×30 inches.
NOTE FROM THE ARTIST:
“The layer of concrete covering the movie titles and photographs gives the art this ‘street’ art feel to it. The concrete also symbolizes a legendary and iconic career that will be sealed in the history cinema forever.”
I first encountered Bertrand Tavernier in the early 70s. He and his close friend and former business partner Pierre Rissient had seen Mean Streets and championed it publicly, and this meant the world to me. I quickly understood that Bertrand knew the history of cinema inside and out. And, he was passionate about absolutely all of it—passionate about what he loved and what he hated, passionate about bringing both new discoveries and forgotten figures to light (Bertrand was the one who led the way in the critical re-discovery of Michael Powell), and then passionate about the films he himself made. He had such a distinctive voice as a filmmaker, unlike anyone else’s. I particularly loved his 1984 film A Sunday in the Country, which was so carefully designed that it felt like it had emerged right out of the world of impressionism. I loved all his historical pictures, like Let Joy Reign Supreme and Capitaine Conan, and his adaptations of Simenon (The Clockmaker, his first film) and Jim Thompson (Coup de Torchon, adapted from Pop. 1280). I was sitting at the table with Bertrand and Irwin Winkler when they made the deal on his beautiful ‘Round Midnight, and I have fond memories of acting in the picture in a small role as Dexter Gordon’s agent. Bertrand knew every corner of French cinema intimately, and I think we’re all lucky that he had the chance to complete his epic documentary voyage through its history, a thing of great beauty. He knew American cinema just as intimately, and he and Jean-Pierre Coursodon co-wrote and frequently updated an exhaustive dictionary of American film directors that really should be translated into English. One thing about Bertrand, known to all of his friends and loved ones: he was so passionate that he could exhaust you. He would sit for hours and hours, arguing for or against a film or a filmmaker or musician or a book or a political position, and at a certain point you would wonder: where on earth does all that energy come from? It’s hard to believe that I’ll never have another chance to be on the receiving end of it all. Or to have another visit with such an extraordinary, irreplaceable man.
A beautiful and thoughtful gift from my eldest daughter Catherine @catherinescorsese !! Done by J Frederick Fesel @when_the_paint_dries . His first show is coming up very soon! How many references to my films can you find?
A beautiful and thoughtful gift from my eldest daughter Catherine @catherinescorsese !! Done by J Frederick Fesel @when_the_paint_dries . His first show is coming up very soon! How many references to my films can you find?
Happy birthday to my love @helenms121
Happy birthday to my love @helenms121
Repost from @thefilmfoundation_official
By Kent Jones
During a discussion of Welles’ The Other Side of the Wind, Scorsese remarked that the editing of many scenes “comes down to a matter of frames.” You could extend this observation to a rule of thumb. If there’s 1 clear marker that separates a great movie from an ordinary one, it’s the evidence that every image or succession of images comes down to a matter of frames: every particle of every 24th of a second counts & is bound to every other particle. If you want a clear illustration, watch Bruce Conner’s films, 5 of which—Cosmic Ray, Ten Second Film, Report, Mea Culpa and America Is Waiting—were restored by @anthologyfilmarchives with grants from the Avant-Garde Masters program, created by NFPF & TFF. A sizable amount of his work is comprised of found footage pulled from industrial films, commercials & live TV coverage. Many of his films were constructed over great lengths of time & now exist in multiple versions, each one a living force—ceaselessly changing, throbbing with associations & dynamic shifts that create the sense of being everywhere at once, micro & macro, inside & outside of an event that appears to be creating itself before our eyes, echoing our own experience. To say of Conner’s films that every frame matters is to put it very mildly. Mea Culpa & America Is Waiting, which served as rock videos for the first 2 songs on David Byrne & Brian Eno’s 1981 proto-sampling album My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, offer a stark contrast with standard rock videos of the same period: they are pure compressed kinetic energy as opposed to the vague impression of kinetic energy created by a systematic succession of shock cuts and speed changes. Cosmic Ray is also a music film (the cosmic Ray’s last name is Charles) that bursts the screen open and floods right into your system, just like the silent, mind-bending Ten Second Film. Report is Conner’s response to the assassination of JFK, a film trauma that is immediate & reflective at the same time & a shock to the system. It seems that Report is now in an intense dialogue, across the span of 50 years & counting, with Bob Dylan’s new American lament, Murder Most Foul.
Repost from @thefilmfoundation_official
By Kent Jones
During a discussion of Welles’ The Other Side of the Wind, Scorsese remarked that the editing of many scenes “comes down to a matter of frames.” You could extend this observation to a rule of thumb. If there’s 1 clear marker that separates a great movie from an ordinary one, it’s the evidence that every image or succession of images comes down to a matter of frames: every particle of every 24th of a second counts & is bound to every other particle. If you want a clear illustration, watch Bruce Conner’s films, 5 of which—Cosmic Ray, Ten Second Film, Report, Mea Culpa and America Is Waiting—were restored by @anthologyfilmarchives with grants from the Avant-Garde Masters program, created by NFPF & TFF. A sizable amount of his work is comprised of found footage pulled from industrial films, commercials & live TV coverage. Many of his films were constructed over great lengths of time & now exist in multiple versions, each one a living force—ceaselessly changing, throbbing with associations & dynamic shifts that create the sense of being everywhere at once, micro & macro, inside & outside of an event that appears to be creating itself before our eyes, echoing our own experience. To say of Conner’s films that every frame matters is to put it very mildly. Mea Culpa & America Is Waiting, which served as rock videos for the first 2 songs on David Byrne & Brian Eno’s 1981 proto-sampling album My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, offer a stark contrast with standard rock videos of the same period: they are pure compressed kinetic energy as opposed to the vague impression of kinetic energy created by a systematic succession of shock cuts and speed changes. Cosmic Ray is also a music film (the cosmic Ray’s last name is Charles) that bursts the screen open and floods right into your system, just like the silent, mind-bending Ten Second Film. Report is Conner’s response to the assassination of JFK, a film trauma that is immediate & reflective at the same time & a shock to the system. It seems that Report is now in an intense dialogue, across the span of 50 years & counting, with Bob Dylan’s new American lament, Murder Most Foul.
Repost from @thefilmfoundation_official
By Kent Jones
During a discussion of Welles’ The Other Side of the Wind, Scorsese remarked that the editing of many scenes “comes down to a matter of frames.” You could extend this observation to a rule of thumb. If there’s 1 clear marker that separates a great movie from an ordinary one, it’s the evidence that every image or succession of images comes down to a matter of frames: every particle of every 24th of a second counts & is bound to every other particle. If you want a clear illustration, watch Bruce Conner’s films, 5 of which—Cosmic Ray, Ten Second Film, Report, Mea Culpa and America Is Waiting—were restored by @anthologyfilmarchives with grants from the Avant-Garde Masters program, created by NFPF & TFF. A sizable amount of his work is comprised of found footage pulled from industrial films, commercials & live TV coverage. Many of his films were constructed over great lengths of time & now exist in multiple versions, each one a living force—ceaselessly changing, throbbing with associations & dynamic shifts that create the sense of being everywhere at once, micro & macro, inside & outside of an event that appears to be creating itself before our eyes, echoing our own experience. To say of Conner’s films that every frame matters is to put it very mildly. Mea Culpa & America Is Waiting, which served as rock videos for the first 2 songs on David Byrne & Brian Eno’s 1981 proto-sampling album My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, offer a stark contrast with standard rock videos of the same period: they are pure compressed kinetic energy as opposed to the vague impression of kinetic energy created by a systematic succession of shock cuts and speed changes. Cosmic Ray is also a music film (the cosmic Ray’s last name is Charles) that bursts the screen open and floods right into your system, just like the silent, mind-bending Ten Second Film. Report is Conner’s response to the assassination of JFK, a film trauma that is immediate & reflective at the same time & a shock to the system. It seems that Report is now in an intense dialogue, across the span of 50 years & counting, with Bob Dylan’s new American lament, Murder Most Foul.
Repost from @thefilmfoundation_official
By Kent Jones
During a discussion of Welles’ The Other Side of the Wind, Scorsese remarked that the editing of many scenes “comes down to a matter of frames.” You could extend this observation to a rule of thumb. If there’s 1 clear marker that separates a great movie from an ordinary one, it’s the evidence that every image or succession of images comes down to a matter of frames: every particle of every 24th of a second counts & is bound to every other particle. If you want a clear illustration, watch Bruce Conner’s films, 5 of which—Cosmic Ray, Ten Second Film, Report, Mea Culpa and America Is Waiting—were restored by @anthologyfilmarchives with grants from the Avant-Garde Masters program, created by NFPF & TFF. A sizable amount of his work is comprised of found footage pulled from industrial films, commercials & live TV coverage. Many of his films were constructed over great lengths of time & now exist in multiple versions, each one a living force—ceaselessly changing, throbbing with associations & dynamic shifts that create the sense of being everywhere at once, micro & macro, inside & outside of an event that appears to be creating itself before our eyes, echoing our own experience. To say of Conner’s films that every frame matters is to put it very mildly. Mea Culpa & America Is Waiting, which served as rock videos for the first 2 songs on David Byrne & Brian Eno’s 1981 proto-sampling album My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, offer a stark contrast with standard rock videos of the same period: they are pure compressed kinetic energy as opposed to the vague impression of kinetic energy created by a systematic succession of shock cuts and speed changes. Cosmic Ray is also a music film (the cosmic Ray’s last name is Charles) that bursts the screen open and floods right into your system, just like the silent, mind-bending Ten Second Film. Report is Conner’s response to the assassination of JFK, a film trauma that is immediate & reflective at the same time & a shock to the system. It seems that Report is now in an intense dialogue, across the span of 50 years & counting, with Bob Dylan’s new American lament, Murder Most Foul.
Repost from @thefilmfoundation_official
By Kent Jones
During a discussion of Welles’ The Other Side of the Wind, Scorsese remarked that the editing of many scenes “comes down to a matter of frames.” You could extend this observation to a rule of thumb. If there’s 1 clear marker that separates a great movie from an ordinary one, it’s the evidence that every image or succession of images comes down to a matter of frames: every particle of every 24th of a second counts & is bound to every other particle. If you want a clear illustration, watch Bruce Conner’s films, 5 of which—Cosmic Ray, Ten Second Film, Report, Mea Culpa and America Is Waiting—were restored by @anthologyfilmarchives with grants from the Avant-Garde Masters program, created by NFPF & TFF. A sizable amount of his work is comprised of found footage pulled from industrial films, commercials & live TV coverage. Many of his films were constructed over great lengths of time & now exist in multiple versions, each one a living force—ceaselessly changing, throbbing with associations & dynamic shifts that create the sense of being everywhere at once, micro & macro, inside & outside of an event that appears to be creating itself before our eyes, echoing our own experience. To say of Conner’s films that every frame matters is to put it very mildly. Mea Culpa & America Is Waiting, which served as rock videos for the first 2 songs on David Byrne & Brian Eno’s 1981 proto-sampling album My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, offer a stark contrast with standard rock videos of the same period: they are pure compressed kinetic energy as opposed to the vague impression of kinetic energy created by a systematic succession of shock cuts and speed changes. Cosmic Ray is also a music film (the cosmic Ray’s last name is Charles) that bursts the screen open and floods right into your system, just like the silent, mind-bending Ten Second Film. Report is Conner’s response to the assassination of JFK, a film trauma that is immediate & reflective at the same time & a shock to the system. It seems that Report is now in an intense dialogue, across the span of 50 years & counting, with Bob Dylan’s new American lament, Murder Most Foul.
Repost from @thefilmfoundation_official
By Kent Jones
During a discussion of Welles’ The Other Side of the Wind, Scorsese remarked that the editing of many scenes “comes down to a matter of frames.” You could extend this observation to a rule of thumb. If there’s 1 clear marker that separates a great movie from an ordinary one, it’s the evidence that every image or succession of images comes down to a matter of frames: every particle of every 24th of a second counts & is bound to every other particle. If you want a clear illustration, watch Bruce Conner’s films, 5 of which—Cosmic Ray, Ten Second Film, Report, Mea Culpa and America Is Waiting—were restored by @anthologyfilmarchives with grants from the Avant-Garde Masters program, created by NFPF & TFF. A sizable amount of his work is comprised of found footage pulled from industrial films, commercials & live TV coverage. Many of his films were constructed over great lengths of time & now exist in multiple versions, each one a living force—ceaselessly changing, throbbing with associations & dynamic shifts that create the sense of being everywhere at once, micro & macro, inside & outside of an event that appears to be creating itself before our eyes, echoing our own experience. To say of Conner’s films that every frame matters is to put it very mildly. Mea Culpa & America Is Waiting, which served as rock videos for the first 2 songs on David Byrne & Brian Eno’s 1981 proto-sampling album My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, offer a stark contrast with standard rock videos of the same period: they are pure compressed kinetic energy as opposed to the vague impression of kinetic energy created by a systematic succession of shock cuts and speed changes. Cosmic Ray is also a music film (the cosmic Ray’s last name is Charles) that bursts the screen open and floods right into your system, just like the silent, mind-bending Ten Second Film. Report is Conner’s response to the assassination of JFK, a film trauma that is immediate & reflective at the same time & a shock to the system. It seems that Report is now in an intense dialogue, across the span of 50 years & counting, with Bob Dylan’s new American lament, Murder Most Foul.
Repost from @thefilmfoundation_official
By Kent Jones
During a discussion of Welles’ The Other Side of the Wind, Scorsese remarked that the editing of many scenes “comes down to a matter of frames.” You could extend this observation to a rule of thumb. If there’s 1 clear marker that separates a great movie from an ordinary one, it’s the evidence that every image or succession of images comes down to a matter of frames: every particle of every 24th of a second counts & is bound to every other particle. If you want a clear illustration, watch Bruce Conner’s films, 5 of which—Cosmic Ray, Ten Second Film, Report, Mea Culpa and America Is Waiting—were restored by @anthologyfilmarchives with grants from the Avant-Garde Masters program, created by NFPF & TFF. A sizable amount of his work is comprised of found footage pulled from industrial films, commercials & live TV coverage. Many of his films were constructed over great lengths of time & now exist in multiple versions, each one a living force—ceaselessly changing, throbbing with associations & dynamic shifts that create the sense of being everywhere at once, micro & macro, inside & outside of an event that appears to be creating itself before our eyes, echoing our own experience. To say of Conner’s films that every frame matters is to put it very mildly. Mea Culpa & America Is Waiting, which served as rock videos for the first 2 songs on David Byrne & Brian Eno’s 1981 proto-sampling album My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, offer a stark contrast with standard rock videos of the same period: they are pure compressed kinetic energy as opposed to the vague impression of kinetic energy created by a systematic succession of shock cuts and speed changes. Cosmic Ray is also a music film (the cosmic Ray’s last name is Charles) that bursts the screen open and floods right into your system, just like the silent, mind-bending Ten Second Film. Report is Conner’s response to the assassination of JFK, a film trauma that is immediate & reflective at the same time & a shock to the system. It seems that Report is now in an intense dialogue, across the span of 50 years & counting, with Bob Dylan’s new American lament, Murder Most Foul.
Repost from @thefilmfoundation_official
By Kent Jones
During a discussion of Welles’ The Other Side of the Wind, Scorsese remarked that the editing of many scenes “comes down to a matter of frames.” You could extend this observation to a rule of thumb. If there’s 1 clear marker that separates a great movie from an ordinary one, it’s the evidence that every image or succession of images comes down to a matter of frames: every particle of every 24th of a second counts & is bound to every other particle. If you want a clear illustration, watch Bruce Conner’s films, 5 of which—Cosmic Ray, Ten Second Film, Report, Mea Culpa and America Is Waiting—were restored by @anthologyfilmarchives with grants from the Avant-Garde Masters program, created by NFPF & TFF. A sizable amount of his work is comprised of found footage pulled from industrial films, commercials & live TV coverage. Many of his films were constructed over great lengths of time & now exist in multiple versions, each one a living force—ceaselessly changing, throbbing with associations & dynamic shifts that create the sense of being everywhere at once, micro & macro, inside & outside of an event that appears to be creating itself before our eyes, echoing our own experience. To say of Conner’s films that every frame matters is to put it very mildly. Mea Culpa & America Is Waiting, which served as rock videos for the first 2 songs on David Byrne & Brian Eno’s 1981 proto-sampling album My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, offer a stark contrast with standard rock videos of the same period: they are pure compressed kinetic energy as opposed to the vague impression of kinetic energy created by a systematic succession of shock cuts and speed changes. Cosmic Ray is also a music film (the cosmic Ray’s last name is Charles) that bursts the screen open and floods right into your system, just like the silent, mind-bending Ten Second Film. Report is Conner’s response to the assassination of JFK, a film trauma that is immediate & reflective at the same time & a shock to the system. It seems that Report is now in an intense dialogue, across the span of 50 years & counting, with Bob Dylan’s new American lament, Murder Most Foul.
Fran Lebowitz has Opinions on Everything. Apologies for No One.
