Waaaahhhh! This just in c/o Alliance Francaise. To think I narrowly missed this! It's a good thing I still manage to check my other yahoomail, the one that's heaving under the weight of some 15,000 subscription emails.
Tara troops, we're storming MOA tomorrow before dark. For some reason that escapes me to this day, I haven't had the chance to attend the Fete since 2005... Boy, that one was really something. That was probably the best concert (multiple pa!) that I've ever gone to. I need more moments like that.
Take a peek at how other countries are rocking it out this weekend. Coolness, they even have it as far as Kathmandu!
It was (or is to be) a good run while it lasted, even though I hardly made good on my promise to live and breathe the essence of eau deFrench Spring in Manila this year.
So before the curtain closes, Alliance Francaise and the Embassy of France leave us with one last hurrah... which I'm sure will leave us with oohs and aahs.. (Hehe, I just had to make it rhyme).
Je vous presente...
La Bossa Fataka by Cie Hervieu-Montalvo June 22, 2008 (Sunday) at 8:00 pm Main Theater, Nicanor Abelardo Hall Cultural Center of the Philippines, Pasay City
Last chance, folks. As of an hour ago, only a few balcony seats are still available. Get your tickets before they get sold out!
The two words (French and Spring) that can make me break out into song with matching spring-chicken dance moves:
Vive le temp Vive le temp Vive le temp de primavera!
(the above rephrased lyrics are originally sung to the tune of "Jingle Bells"--seriously!)
All right, so that may not be the most French thing to do. What can I say, I'm just the teensiest bit obsessed. I'm thinking instead of catching the show below so I might learn a few tricks to help me along this long-drawn-out process of acculturization to the French Aesthetic. (That is, if learning through osmosis actually works.)
Seriously, I think this is the shiznit. I really wanna go. I wanna see all the films they're showing at Shangri-La Plaza next month. I don't wanna catch them on bootleg DVD. I wanna see how the French get jiggy with it. I understand now that I shouldn't have missed out on last year's Pockemon Crew hiphop extravaganza. How I could have been totally ignorant prior to this time of the photography and culinary art exhibits that have been taking place all over the metro throughout the past couple of months is beyond me.
Indeed it is a terrible shame. Much as I hate being paradoxical all within the span of the same post, it saddens me to no end. How I used to take so many things, such as time and love, for granted. How I could have ever let a potentially beautiful moment slip through my now-rheumatic fingers. How I could never be, instead of letting be. So I'd like to make up for all the transgressions against who else but myself, for the sake of art, for the sake of self-liberation. For the sake of life... For the sake of love. (Naka naman!) . . . . . (Oops, I just remembered--I might just be on hiatus on June 7th. Meaning, no Afro-French dance showdown for me. Maybe I'll go see this instead...)
I've actually downloaded the acoustic version of the song eons ago, which I so love. But with this new, Hawaiian-ish rendition, I find that I just can't stop clicking on insta-reply. Plus, the vid's pretty neat, too. Might just be in the running for my all-time summery fave. Then again, that's just probably coz I don't get to watch a lot of late-night MTV these days.
Loosely translated, the French title would mean "child's play". Or "games of children", to be more exact. I got myself a copy of the movie in 2006 and watched it for the first time at home in ole ZC during Christmas break. Of course, inspired by the spirit of giving, I just had to share the gift of discovery to everyone I knew. Coming back to Manila post-holiday, I tried hard-selling the film, lending my DVD copy to anyone who would care to bring it home.
Jeux d'enfants is a cute, modern tale about a couple of childhood best friends who fall in love when they grow older and then hate each other when they grow yet older. And then finally, they entomb themselves together in the end when they realize they could no longer live without each other. Seriously. (Sorry for the spoiler!) It's really sad. But not in a tearjerky kind of way. On the other hand, if you're an endorphin junkie, then good for you. Throughout the movie you can't help but curl your toes at the kilig moments between the two lovers. Even in the midst of all-out war and mayhem, the hero and heroine manage to glower at each other with gut-wrenching love. You can't say the French don't know a thing or two about romance.
What else can I say, the story's beautiful, the cinematography's beautiful, the kids are beautiful. If not for the sort of bittersweet ending, you'd be concluding "life is beautiful." Even more significant, it's not over the top (read: cringey) like other well-loved love stories out there. Its hypnotic storyline alternately teeters on the edge of frustration and salvation, and then, as if coming home from a NY Eve party having had too much champagne to drink, you come dizzily crashing back to earth at the end of it all.
Viva Cuba(2007)
Do not be daunted by the mishmash of French and Spanish words spattered all over the sites I linked to, my friend. Click away on whatever you fancy, just as little children would finger strange things on the ground with wide-eyed adventurism.
Viva Cuba is que adorable! The critically acclaimed film wins you over with its straightforward narrative and whimsical appeal. The kid actors are a joy to watch. They might as well be the real thing. Throughout filming, they chose to work without a script, which helped furnish the film with a natural, relaxed feel that is easily engaging. If I'm not mistaken, it was their first acting job. As far as I'm concerned, them kids rocked it hard and out of the playpen. Plus, I have to admit, it totally helps that Jorgito, the young hero, looks a tad like my youngest brother, Rocky (no kidding!). I guess that's what makes this movie all the more special to me.
The film is a delicate surprise. Despite the seemingly serious, quasi-political tone the title instantly brings to mind, Viva Cuba has captured the essence of friendship and woven it into a delightful tapestry of childish banter and harebrained misadventures that has no other place than on a pedestal for kids of all ages to behold. You're bound to develop six-packs just laughing over the mundane things you wish you had done when you still had societal license.
Of course, the undercurrent theme of juvenile love always hovering over the young protagonists as they hitchhike their way from home to the other end of Cuba makes you go, "Oh no, I hope they don't go all Dawson's Creek on me." But no worries. The ending mirrors a little that of Jeux d'enfants, hanging just a wee bit more obtrusively. Then again that's just my take. Anyone else would probably conclude the obvious. No matter, since it's really the middle and even the beginning that are the cake and food and drink of the whole film. It's the proverbial journey that makes life worth living. And since hope is most abundant in youth, life really is worth living as a child.
Viva Cuba is a truly memorable film that cuts across cultures and ages, whether chronological or emotional. It’s cinematic treasures like this that remind me why I love watching movies. Watching the credits roll up, you feel like sitting back in your cushy seat and letting the good sensations roll over you, like the waves that are shown at the end of the movie. Somehow you feel as if your soul can rest easy with the knowledge that no matter who you are, no matter what you've done, at least the one good thing that has happened to you was that you were once (if not still are) a kid. And that makes all the difference in the world.
Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.- Kahlil Gibran
Not that I'm in the market or anything, but I'm just totally moved by the playlist (Morricone, Armstrong, and the like) that's currently playing in my PC that I ended up humming and even sort of singing out loud parts of the lyrics here at my cubicle. Good Lord, what will the suits here think of me, slacking off and having a bit of fun just coz it's the holiday season. Haha, right.
"Yep, I hear yah, boss. Sure, let's check out some CDs at Music One at Greenbelt. Just a sec, okay?"
When my own special day comes, I would like my guy to sing to me La Vie En Rose, the song immortalized by the iconic French songstress Edith Piaf. Of course, there's no other way to do it than in front of all our guests-to-be. He's gotta sing the whole thing in the original French, too. Never mind if he doesn't get the pronunciation right or whatever. I mean, we're not French anyway, no biggie. Haha.
Not up to the task? Fine. He can sing it in, what else--*drumroll*--Tausug. Yeah, baby! The good ole mother tongue. Really, I can't think of anything cooler. Of course, he can do the translation himself. I haven't found anything on the Internet, so that means he'd be the first ever to do something like that.
On second thought.. Hmmm... Now I'm totally going nuts with the French wedding song idea. I'm thinking maybe I should do it. It would be a total first. Sort of like that intellectual entrepeneurship thing that Tom Friedman goes on and on about. Not to mention, it would be something with which to validate my Tausug-ness for all the cyberworld to behold.
All righty then, I'm doing it. I'm writing it in stone as one of my plans for the new year. I can't wait to get started. So what if I'm total crap at my own people's language? I still have, what, a few years to practice and write the draft and do it well enough so my people won't hurl invectives at me from the sides of the aisle and disown me for ruining the language or the song. Piaf would flip and turn in her grave. Besides, mediocrity, if not the total annihilation of a cultural aesthetic, would be such an un-French thing to do. It totally gives me the heebie jeebies. But I'm psyched!
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LA VIE EN ROSE (French Lyrics)
Des yeux qui font baisser les miens, Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche— Voilà le portrait sans retouche De l’homme auquel j’appartiens.
Quand il me prend dans ses bras, Il me parle tout bas, Je vois la vie en rose. Il me dit des mots d’amour, Des mots de tous les jours, Et ça me fait quelque chose. Il est entré dans mon cœur, Une part de bonheur Dont je connais la cause. C’est lui pour moi, Moi pour lui dans la vie, Il me l’a dit, l’a juré pour la vie. Et dès que je l’aperçois, Alors je sens en moi Mon cœur qui bat.
Des nuits d’amour à plus finir, Un grand bonheur qui prend sa place, Les ennuis, les chagrins s’effacent, Heureux, heureux à en mourir.
Quand il me prend dans ses bras, Il me parle tout bas, Je vois la vie en rose. Il me dit des mots d’amour, Des mots de tous les jours, Et ça me fait quelque chose. Il est entré dans mon cœur, Une part de bonheur Dont je connais la cause. C’est lui pour moi, Moi pour lui dans la vie, Il me l’a dit, l’a juré pour la vie. Et dès que je l’aperçois, Alors je sens en moi Mon cœur qui bat.
LA VIE EN ROSE (English Translation)
Eyes that gaze into mine, A smile that is lost on his lips— That is the unretouched portrait Of the man to whom I belong.
When he takes me in his arms And speaks softly to me, I see life in rosy hues. He tells me words of love, Words of every day, And in them I become something. He has entered my heart, A part of happiness Whereof I understand the reason. It’s he for me and I for him, throughout life, He has told me, he has sworn to me, for life. And from the things that I sense, Now I can feel within me My heart that beats.
In endless nights of love, A great delight that comes about, The pains and bothers are banished, Happy, happy to die of love.
When he takes me in his arms And speaks softly to me, I see life in rosy hues. He tells me words of love, Words of every day, And in them I become something. He has entered my heart, A part of happiness Whereof I understand the reason. It’s he for me and I for him, throughout life, He has told me, he has sworn to me, for life. And from the things that I sense, Now I can feel within me My heart that beats.
------------ English translation done by Thomas Keyes, a writer/author who has studied languages for years and traveled extensively on five continents. Obviously, the piece sounds a bit weird in certain parts, but the author has a caveat or short explanation for the the choice of words. I just can't find the link coz it was quite some time ago when I downloaded this. Anyway, for questions or concerns, the author can be reached at udikeyes@yahoo.com.
To listen to Piaf's original rendition of the song, copy-paste the following link onto your browser:
http://www.angelfire.com/ca5/magic1/Lavierose.wma
Here's my favorite take of the song, done by no less than the incomparable Louis Armstrong. I super, super love it. Hope you do, too. Enjoy!
This is my current shoutout in Friendster. Got it from KR, who in turn quoted Alex Garland:
..And me, I still believe in paradise. But now at least I know it's not some place you can look for, 'cause it's not where you go. It's how you feel for a moment in your life when you're a part of something, and if you find that moment... it lasts forever... - The Beach
I will miss 2006. Maybe not today, 'cause 2007 is still kicking and screaming and beating down my door, and it's all good. But at least when the happy storm has passed (and by some freak accident I delete all the pics in my PC from that era), I will still have this to come back to.
So here are the pictures from the Palawan trip. Of course, these aren't representative of the entire trip. For presentation sake (or rather, because of this particular slideshow template's limited capabilities), these are basically the highlights of the show.
I really need to get going in a while (it's way past my bedtime). So I guess this post is really a working file of sorts. I'll post details as soon as I can scrounge up some downtime from behind my boss' back. Peace, Pat!
Oh God. I’m having flashbacks of that lazy afternoon under the palm trees in Bora. Even under the shade, I was sweating buckets as the sweltering heat made siesta impossible. But man oh man, was it perfect. Forgive the cliché but I swear to God, it was THE life to live.
Man, I am positively itching right now. Yes, itching, I tell you, to hold a guitar. The first bars of the song “Suntok sa Buwan” by Session Road are torturing me. (To refresh thy memory, check out my muzak at the sidebar southaway.) The song isn’t in vogue at the mo, and the lyrics don’t exactly bring to mind a vivid remembrance of all things bright and beautiful (or even otherwise). So I’m quite clueless as to how the song managed to hijack my inner gramophone and put itself on insta-replay. I've already downloaded the tabs and chords to the song a week ago. Need to brush up on my tablature reading and plucking first, though. Been out of practice for so long, I imagine brassy creaking to be the accompaniment my digits will be producing the moment I get hold of a guitar. I'll need to hang out at Lejan's place, of course, to slake this sudden urge of mine. Good thing she still has that guitar that her most infamous suitor gave her for her birthday back in freshman year. All we'll be needing then is booze (not that Lejan drinks; I don't, either) and some smokes (not that Lejan still lights up; I don't, never have). And how can I forget the other singular most important add-on to the setup: Gil. (Not that he sings or plays the guitar.. the last time I checked, anyway.)
Gil, Gil, Gil. What can I say about my best guy friend in the world? Well, for starters, we don't hear from each other anymore. Not like we used to before, anyway. The last time we spoke was in post-Abs July when we burned the telephone lines, talking about what went on in our lives during the yawning gap in communication prior to then. Sadly, our correspondence is now limited to sporadic forwarded messages and missed-calls. I miss the guy terribly. We lost track of each other for a coupla years and reconnected just a coupla months ago. It's sad that we lost touch, and even more so because I probably won't be seeing him for a long time. He's so far away now, studying and making a heck of a living in his hometown in Sorsogon. Among all the people I know in our batch, he's the busiest person I know who's handling the highest level of responsibility. For a 23-year-old, he’s pretty much up there already.
Of course, to be perfectly honest, some things you never see coming. Back in college, Gil was the most party-hardy person I knew. He was the ultimate BI ("bad influence" for the less informed), and Lejan and I used to relish stories of his and his posse's bad-ass ways. (Yep, we were such dorks then.) Gil was everyone's favorite blockmate, and you could always count on him for a good laugh. But what makes him a supah dupah friend is that he sticks it out with you through thick and thin, literally.
Gil was the wakeup call I needed to get me through some of my more icky moments. He was never tactless, and he dished out the painful truth without making you feel like you were the biggest retard on the face of the planet for not having realized it in the first place.
He's wise, too, in the ways of the wily. The breadth of his knowledge and his open-mindedness still take a lot of getting used to, but it all was a refreshing departure from the linearity in thinking of some of my closest friends. And I benefited from that, internally at the very least.. Indeed I like to think that some of it has rubbed off on me.
Gil's my best guy pal, but most of the time we spent together was when it was the three of us with Lejan hanging out. My absolute favorite memory of him was when, together with Lej, we were lounging around the Quezon Hall steps, shooting the crap as per usual. Spurred on by someone's stroke of genius, we decided to have our own little ice cream party that same night. So we dropped by Mercury Drugstore at Philcoa to buy a tub of ice cream and some Ferrero Rochers (his treat, of course; he's always nice like that). Then we headed for the Sunken Garden where, under a hazy canopy of stars (yes, Stef, I'm plagiarizing myself), we ruminated on a great many things about the past, the present, and the future that lay ahead in the vast milkiness of the night sky.
Looking back, I guess it was with a sense of foreboding that each of us realized that things as beautiful as the seemingly eternal present have a way of disappointing you. You get lulled into a sense of complacency in which you think that although changes happen, you can still count on certain things being fundamentally the same. And to a certain extent, this was what happened. But sometimes, the trade-off doesn't seem so fair. In our case, growing up had to necessitate the outgrowing of such spur-of-the-moment indulgences. But we could never outgrow each other, despite evidence to the contrary. I like to think that there's a time and place for everything and that someday an encore of the times we spent together is possible.
Lejan once asked me if it was possible that I would fall for Gil. While I love him to pieces and everything, I replied in no uncertain terms to the negative. See here, some things cannot hope to evolve. And sometimes they shouldn't…
I miss Gil like a bad love song from the mid-90s. You know the type that comes on the radio after long periods of hibernation? Then you find that you just can’t get the tune out of yout head coz of the warm, fuzzy feeling that comes flooding within.. I've been wheedling him forever to take a trip to Manila for business or whatever, but his uber busy sked is just too airtight. Hopefully by next year, Lejan and I can find time to swing by Sorsogon together and trespass upon his hospitality. Then maybe we can finally have our jamming session under the stars. In the meantime, I think I'll get cracking and brush up on my latent inner rockista.
It's only six days into June and already I'm feeling French. Just this afternoon when I was reminded of this month's French fest, I immediately rounded up some fellow cinema art farts at the office and established a viewing schedule with them for this Wednesday. I'll still have to drag someone to come with me to the Fete on June 18 at El Pueblo, though. If anyone out there is planning to do some serious head-bangin' to Frenchy (as well as NoyPi) beats, just holler.
Fête de la Musique
El Pueblo - Ortigas Center and Metro Manila June 18, 2005 - 5:00 PM onwards
Introduced in France in 1982 by then Minister for Culture Jack Lang, the Fête de la Musique is an all-day, all-night celebration of music to welcome summer. Musicians, amateurs and professionals perform freely in public places, from parks to street corners, metro stations, trains, not necessarily in concert halls or stages.
It became a very popular event, and through the network of French Embassies and French cultural centers and Alliances Françaises, it easily spread to many countries worldwide. It is now celebrated in simultaneously in more than 120 countries every 21st of June.
In Manila, the Fête has been celebrated since 1994, from Malate to Fort Bonifacio, to El Pueblo and Eastwood, gathering some 10,000 music-lovers in a street party that appropriately closes the cultural season, the French Spring in Manila, and where more than a hundred bands perform in ten stages simultaneously, offering the full spectrum of musical genre from World Music to Rock, Alternative, Reggae, Jazz, Blues, Electronica, Acousitic, Hip Hop and R&B.
In 2005, while the center stage in El Pueblo - Ortigas Center will showcase a selection of musicians of these musical categories, several poles of the city night life join us, like Greenbelt 3, Shangri-La Plaza, Eastwood, The Podium, SM Megamall. Thus, the Fête de la Musique reaches all corners of the capital.
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10th French Film Festival Panorama of the French Contemporary Cinema June 03 to June 26, 2005 3-15 Greenbelt 1, Ayala Center, Makati City Entrance Fee : Php50
Please check out the link above for the movie titles.
We all carry within us our places of exile, our crimes, and our ravages. But our task is not to unleash them on the world; it is to fight them in ourselves and in others.
