Relighting the Magick Lantern

anger2.jpg

The first part of Kenneth Anger’s Magick Lantern Cycle appeared on DVD in a splendid edition from Fantoma earlier this year. The second and final part is due for release on October 2nd and you can see the mouthwatering trailer here.

This new set includes the Cocteau-esque Harlequinade, Rabbit’s Moon (1950); homoerotica, bikers and rock’n’roll in Scorpio Rising (1964); a hot rod, a blond boy in tight pants and the Paris Sisters crooning Dream Lover in Kustom Kar Kommandos (1965); magick ceremonies and Mick Jagger playing with a Moog synth in Invocation of My Demon Brother (1969); and Donald Cammell, Marianne Faithfull, Egypt, volcanoes, Aleister Crowley, an orange UFO and a great score from Bobby Beausoleil in the miniature epic, Lucifer Rising (1982).

The Magick Lantern Cycle is a great work of cinema that’s suffered from shoddy presentation on previous video releases; Fantoma have given these films the care and attention they deserve. If you haven’t seen them yet, you’re in for a treat.

Previously on { feuilleton }
James Bidgood
Kenneth Anger on DVD…finally
Un Chant d’Amour by Jean Genet

Alexandre Alexeieff and Claire Parker

trial.jpg

Before the Law from The Trial (1962).

I’d wanted to write something about this pair of animators last year but at the time there was none of their work available for online viewing. This situation has now been remedied thanks to the ubiquitous YouTube.

This is Kafka-related once again since most people have seen Alexeieff/Parker’s work—if at all—in the prologue they provided in 1962 for Orson Welles’ film of The Trial. Alexandre Alexeieff was a Russian illustrator and animator who met Claire Parker, an American art student, in Paris in 1930. The pair formed a life-long partnership and together developed a new style of animation using a pinscreen, a white board containing thousands of pins whose shadows when pushed out of the board provide the grey tones required to create a picture. At the time they began working with this most animation was flat and cartoony; the pinscreen enabled them to create the kind of subtleties of shading seen in pencil and ink drawing. Many of the effects they created are stunningly lifelike.

The prologue for The Trial is a pictorial rendering of Kafka’s parable, Before the Law, which Welles narrates. This is an impressive piece (and I always loved the distinctive Piranesi-style walls) but for a real taste of their breathtaking skill you need to see Night on Bald Mountain, whose Goya-like transformations precede Disney’s Fantasia version by nearly a decade, or their adaptation of Gogol’s The Nose. It’s a shame that YouTube’s compression degrades much of the detail in these films, they really deserve to be seen on a bigger screen, but—as with many of these obscurities—it’s good to know they’re available at all.

Alexeieff and Parker on YouTube:
Night on Bald Mountain (1933)
En Passant (1944)
Before the Law (1962)
The Nose pt. 1 | The Nose pt. 2 (1963)

Previously on { feuilleton }
Steven Soderbergh’s Kafka

Lussuria, Invidia, Superbia

lussuria.jpg

Or Lust (1919), Envy (1919) and Pride (1918). Very Beardsley-esque posters by Carlo Nicco for a series of Italian films from the silent era starring Francesca Bertini. Doubtless the prolific Ms. Bertini’s demonstrations of the Seven Deadly Sins inspired similar promotional artwork for the other films in the series but these are the only ones visible from this Flickr collection of Italian cinema memorabilia. As with Alla Nazimova’s Salomé (and Gabriel D’Annunzio’s excessive Salammbô-esque epic, Cabiria), this confirms again that fin de siècle Decadence lived on in the early days of cinema, having been banished (for a time) from the worlds of art and literature.

Via Fabulon. (Thanks Thom!)

Continue reading “Lussuria, Invidia, Superbia”

Hugo Steiner-Prag’s Golem

golem1.jpg

Der Golem, first edition (1915) and Dover reprint (1986).
Illustrations by Hugo Steiner-Prag.

Before leaving Prague (for the time being), it’s worth mentioning the lithograph illustrations by Hugo Steiner-Prag (1880–1945) for Gustav Meyrink’s The Golem. These atmospheric drawings always remind me of the production sketches Albin Grau created for Murnau’s Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens in 1922. Grau was an occultist as well as a horror aficionado and would certainly have read Meyrink’s book which was a Europe-wide bestseller when first published. The success of the novel inspired Paul Wegener’s first Golem film (now lost) which in turn helped fuel the demand for horror films that led eventually to Nosferatu.

nosferatu.jpg

Nosferatu poster by Albin Grau (1922).

There’s little of Steiner-Prag’s work available on the web but the Dover paperback above contains all the illustrations. The novel has been re-translated recently but I’ve yet to read one of the more recent editions to see how it compares with Dover’s 1928 Madge Pemberton version.

golem3.jpg

The Golem by Hugo Steiner-Prag (1915).

Elsewhere on { feuilleton }
The illustrators archive

Previously on { feuilleton }
Nosferatu
Barta’s Golem