Mrs. Bowie-Vamp

Mrs. Bowie vampírica en sus años de modelaje ;-)

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Culture clash

 

Linda Evangelista fotografiada por Peter Lindbergh para Vogue UK en su número de septiembre de 1992

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Ray Caesar

La chambre (2012)

Siren (2011)

Pollux (2005)

 

Silent partner (2009)

 

Harvest (2008)

Blessed (2006)

 

 

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Souvenir del mal

Hace poco asistí a una exposición sobre la historia de los tatuajes en un pequeño museo de Flims, una aldea en los Alpes Suizos. Los primeros dos pisos albergaban predecibles exhibiciones de fotografías de una variedad de ornamentos corporales —desde tatuajes hasta perforaciones— junto con monitores de video que mostraban a los practicantes de estas artes hablando sobre método, motivaciones y deseo. El tercer piso contenía desplegados semejantes, pero un área estaba separada, apenas iluminada y con una entrada aparte. En este cuarto había una lámpara cubierta por una pantalla hecha de piel humana. La piel, antes de haber sido arrancada, supongo, había sido tatuada con las palabras "Santa María" y una ilustración de la cara de una niña. Una tarjeta explicaba que este tipo de pieza fue creada durante la década de los treinta o los cuarenta en Alemania. Estaba ahí como préstamo de una colección privada de Estados Unidos.

     Por supuesto que yo había oído que los nazis hacían lámparas de la piel de los judíos y otras personas a las que habían asesinado en sus campos de concentración, pero nunca antes había visto la prueba de ello, ni me habría esperado verla. Iba acompañado de dos amigos, el director de cine y ópera suizo Daniel Schmid y su asistente, Christophe. Los tres éramos los únicos presentes en esta sección del museo, y cada uno de nosotros estaba conmocionado y horrorizado de maneras que difícilmente podíamos describir. Daniel, que se había enterado de la exhibición en un periódico local, dijo que el artículo no hacía mención alguna de ese objeto en particular. Christophe, que tiene apenas veintitantos años, me preguntó si consideraba apropiado que tal horror se exhibiera al público. No pude responderle. Comentó que si esto se hubiera llevado a cabo en Estados Unidos, habría habido personas manifestándose en contra frente al edificio. Se me ocurrió que quizá debía haber un letrero de precaución fuera de la pequeña estancia, en que se previniera a la gente de lo que verían dentro: un souvenir del mal.

     Antes de abandonar el edificio, le dije a la suiza de mediana edad sentada en el escritorio de recepción que pensaba que algunos asistentes al museo podían encontrar ofensiva la exhibición de una lámpara hecha de piel humana, ya no se diga de piel tomada de víctimas judías de los campos de concentración. Ella expresó sorpresa ante mi comentario. "¿Por qué se sentiría alguien ofendido?", contestó. "Es parte de la historia de este tema."

     Cuando volví a California, donde vivo, le conté a mi amigo Ira —un ex comando israelí— lo que había visto. Me dijo que creía que era positivo que hubiera una cosa como ésa disponible para el consumo público; así la gente tendría presente el Holocausto, especialmente a la luz de un conflicto constante en el Medio Oriente. Después Ira me contó el siguiente chiste.

     Bush, Sharon y Putin se reúnen para discutir el conflicto entre los judíos y los árabes, en un esfuerzo por resolver el problema, pero no encuentran manera alguna de aliviar la crisis. Dios se les aparece y les dice que le repugna todo el asunto y que ha decidido destruir a la humanidad y darse un descanso. Quizá en el futuro, dice, hará otro intento y empezará de nuevo. Enseguida Dios desaparece. Bush regresa a Estados Unidos y se dirige a la gente; les dice que les tiene una noticia buena y una mala: la buena es que Dios existe; la mala, que va a destruir a la humanidad. Putin regresa a Rusia y le dice a su gente que les trae una noticia mala y una terrible: la mala es que Dios existe, y la terrible, que va a destruir a la humanidad. Sharon regresa a Israel y les dice a los israelitas que les tiene una buena noticia y una maravillosa: la buena es que Dios existe, y la maravillosa, que nunca jamás habrá un Estado palestino.

     "Ese chiste también se podría contar desde una perspectiva palestina", le dije. "Seguro —replicó Ira—, pero surgió de la mente de un israelí."

     Pensé en la piel tatuada de la lámpara y recordé que, en la tradición judía, los tatuajes se consideran un tabú. Quizá la piel no había sido tomada de un judío (sino más probablemente de un gitano), pero, por supuesto, esto no tiene importancia. Cuando era un niño que crecía en Chicago, las únicas personas que conocía que tenían tatuajes eran o marineros o judíos sobrevivientes de los campos de concentración, a quienes los nazis les habían grabado números en los brazos. Mi padre, que era judío y contrabandista, me dijo que nunca me hiciera un tatuaje. Si tenía uno, decía, siempre podía ser identificado, y quizá llegaría el día en el que prefiriera que esto no pasara. Esto tenía sentido, así que nunca me hice tatuar.

     Entre más pienso en el chiste que me contó Ira, más me gusta. Si Dios destruyera a la humanidad, ¿esto importaría? No más que si la piel de la lámpara fue tomada de un judío, peor que nadie estaría ahí para siquiera darle vueltas al asunto. ~

Barry Gifford

Traducción de Fernanda Solórzano

Letras Libres

Enero 2003

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Please allow me to introduce myself

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p1GU9Yd2JAA

"Sympathy for the Devil"- The Rolling Stones

Please allow me to introduce myself
I'm a man of wealth and taste
I've been around for a long, long year
Stole many a man's soul and faith
I was 'round when Jesus Christ
Had his moment of doubt and pain
Made damn sure that Pilate
Washed his hands a’ sealed his fate
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game
I stuck around St. Petersburg
When I saw it was a time for a change
Killed the Czar and his ministers
Anastasia screamed in vain
I rode a tank
Held a general's rank
When the Blitzkrieg raged
And the bodies stank
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name, oh yeah
Ah, what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, ah yeah
I watched with glee
While your kings and queens
Fought for ten decades
For the god they made
I shouted out,
"Who killed the Kennedy's?"
When after all
It was you and me
Let me please introduce myself
I'm a man of wealth and taste
And I laid traps for troubadours
Who get killed before they reached Bombay
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, ahhh yeah, get down, baby
(2:54) woo
(3:03) woooah
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name, oh yeah
But what's confusing you
Is just the nature of my game mmm yeah
Just as every cop is a criminal
And all the sinners saints
As heads is tails
Just call me Lucifer
'Cause I'm in need of some restraint
So if you meet me
Have some courtesy
Have some sympathy, have some taste
Use all your well-learned politesse
Or I'll lay your soul to waste, mmm yeah
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name, mmm yeah
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, mmm mean it, get down
(4:43) Woo, who
ah yeah, get on down
Oh yeah
(4:52) bum bum ba ba ba do a, bum bum ba ba ba do a
(5:06) yea Ahh yeah!
Tell me baby, what's my name
Tell me honey, a can ya guess my name
Tell me baby, what's my name
I tell you one time, you're to blame
Oh, who
woo, woo
Woo, who alright
(5:35) oo, oo oo
Woo, who, who
Woo, who, who
Oh, yeah
Woo, who, who
Woo, who, who
Oh, yeah
well What's my name
Tell me, baby, a what's my name
Tell me, sweetie, a what's my name
oo, who, who
oo, who, who
oo, who, who
oo, who, who
oo, who, who
oo, who, who
oo, who, who
Ahhhhh, yeah
Woo woo

Del álbum  "Beggars Banquet" (1968)

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We need a place called hell

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hv_zJrO_ptk

"Devil inside" - INXS

Here come the woman
With the look in her eye
Raised on leather
With flesh on her mind
Words as weapons
Sharper than knives
Makes you wonder
How the other half die
Other half die
Makes you wonder
Wonder wonder
Here come the man
With the look in his eye
Fed on nothing
But full of pride
Look at them go
Look at them kick
Makes you wonder
How the other half live
The devil inside
The devil inside
Every single one of us
The devil inside
The devil inside
The devil inside
Every single one of us
The devil inside
Here come the world
With the look in its eye
Future uncertain
But certainly slight
Look at the faces
Listen to the bells
It's hard to believe
We need a place called hell
A place called hell
The devil inside
The devil inside
Every single one of us
The devil inside
The devil inside
The devil inside
Every single one of us
The devil inside
Here comes the woman
With the look in her eye
She's raised on leather
With flesh on her mind
Words are weapons
Sharper than knives
Makes you wonder
How the other half die
The devil inside
The devil inside
Every single one of us
The devil inside
The devil inside
The devil inside
Every single one of us
The devil inside 

Del álbum "Kick" (1987)

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You are the Devil in me

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cC04hkIVrYs

"Devil in me" - Gin Wigmore

[Verse 1:]
I got the devil's disease
I've got the jealous in me
So to the jail I plead
He put the devil in me
When he said he would leave
After he stole my heart
And broke it apart
You know that hell ends with me
I am your ticket to free
Don't let it end like this
Without my kiss
[Chorus:]
Oh, and you go
You walk out on me, baby
And leave me for another lady
I'll drink
I'll drink until you love me
And wake up always thinking of me
You are
You are the devil in me
[Verse 2:]
All I wanted was you
The fairytale you sold me
A taste of what you had told me
You put the stagger in me
You wanna see if I bleed
I leave a dagger in you
Now who sings those blues
[Chorus:]
Oh, and you go
And walk out on me, baby
And leave me for another lady
I'll drink
I'll drink until you love me
And wake up always thinking of me
You left
You left me on a Monday
So now I'll bury you on Sunday
You are
You are the devil in me
[Chorus:]
Oh, and you, you go
And walk out on me, baby
And leave me for another lady
So I'll drink
I'll drink until you love me
And wake up always thinking of me
You left
You left me on a Monday
So now I'll bury you on Sunday
You are
You are the devil in me

Del álbum "Gravel & Wine" (2011)

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A esta neozelandesa la he descubierto gracias al anuncio de la cerveza Heineken- James Bond ;-) Y definitivamente me ha encantado, sobre todo el álbum de donde surge este temazo.

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La entrada a otro mundo

El cementerio Highgate, ubicado al norte de Londres, es una de esas visitas must que tengo que hacer ;-) Y fue uno de los grandes pendientes que quedaron de mi recorrido por Londres hace ya varios años :P Hace poco que me enteré que al lado del cementerio, prácticamente los divide una calle, hay serie de residencias victorianas conocidas como Holly Village. Aquí su historia, publicada en 2003 en el diario The Telegraph:

 

Gateway from another world

People who buy one tend to stay. Now, remarkably, two of the unique Victorian homes in a Gothic-style private hamlet in north London are for sale. 

Step through the elaborate gatehouse arch into a small self-contained hamlet of houses in Highgate, north London, and you are plunged into a 19th-century Gothic kingdom of turrets, spires and gables.

Holly Village was built in 1865 by Baroness Burdett-Coutts, a remarkable but little known Victorian philanthropist, a biography of whom - written by Lady Healey - was published in 1978. The style of the village is romantic cottage orne, pioneered by Nash in Regent's Park and at Blaise Hamlet in Bristol, but with a mid-Victorian twist of Gothic revival. They were designed by Burdett-Coutts's favourite architect, Henry Darbishire, who went on to design some of the first flats built by that other great Victorian philanthropist, George Peabody.

At Holly Village, Darbishire gave his imagination free rein. His flights of fancy include two detached houses with timber-framed towers, topped with Gothic spires which wouldn't look out of place on a medieval cathedral. Everywhere the Victorian workmanship and materials are of the highest quality, with elaborate hardwood ogee-shaped porches and several styles of heavily carved wooden eaves giving an almost Alpine feel.

Today, the village and its 12 houses, arranged around a communal garden with freshly clipped verges and scrunchy gravel paths, are well maintained. On a summer's day, residents can be found reading newspapers on their patios, trimming and watering their shrubs and chatting to their neighbours.

It is a private hamlet with no public access, but once inside the gates there is a sense of community far removed from the heavily guarded and anonymous gated communities so favoured by today's developers.

 Holly Village's lack of privacy wouldn't appeal to everyone but the hamlet's uniqueness means that the houses - originally built for Burdett-Coutts's senior estate workers - are much sought-after and people who buy here tend to stay. It is rare, then, to find two houses on the market at the same time.

The first property is one side of the semi-detached house which forms the gatehouse. It has three reception rooms and three bedrooms and, although the downstairs rooms have been beautifully decorated and furnished in a very sympathetic Gothic style, the upstairs rooms still need work. The second house, on the far side of the hamlet, has two reception rooms, three bedrooms and a converted loft room. Decorated in a much more contemporary style, some of its fine hardwood doors have been painted a neutral colour - but the unusual vertical sash shutters are still intact and working.

Lady Healey became interested in Angela Burdett-Coutts when she and her husband Denis, the former Chancellor, lived in Holly Lodge Gardens near the site of Burdett Coutts's long-demolished Georgian villa, Holly Lodge, set in farmland on the side of Highgate Hill. Her biography was called Lady Unknown because Lady Healey felt that the philanthropist's contribution to Victorian society had been largely forgotten. She discovered that many of Burdett-Coutts's donations were made anonymously and would appear in the books of charities as being from a "lady unknown".

"I became fascinated by the garden opposite our house which had obviously been part of the garden to a grand house," says Lady Healey. "Our children played there in the maze of little pathways and if you rummage around the roots of the old hollow oak tree, you might even find my daughter's hamster's grave. There were enormous rhododendron bushes and I wanted to know how they got there."

Apart from Holly Village, the most tangible remains of this remarkable woman's life are a school and a church in Westminster, a statue of a dog in Edinburgh and, in the East End, an ornate water fountain which she gave to Victoria Park, Hackney, and a clutch of streets named after her, such as Burdett Road, Baroness Road, Angela Gardens and Georgina (her middle name) Gardens.

Angela Burdett-Coutts's good fortune started in 1837 when, at the age of 23 and much to her surprise, she inherited a half-share in Coutts Bank worth £1.8 million.

She embarked on a life of philanthropy which continued until she died aged 92 in 1906. Dubbed "the queen of the poor", she cleared slums in the East End, set up homes for fallen women, founded schools, built churches, funded scientific research and bankrolled expeditions.

As the youngest daughter of the radical MP, Sir Francis Burdett - who had married one of the daughters of Thomas Coutts, the bank's founder - she had no expectations of great wealth. But she had caught the eye of Thomas Coutts's second wife, who left Angela her entire fortune, as well as the half-share in the bank.

According to Lady Healey, Angela Burdett-Coutts was not the stereotypical lady bountiful, patronisingly distributing her largesse. "She never forgot that Thomas Coutts's first wife was the daughter of a simple Lancashire farmer, and that his second wife was an actress whose origins were also humble.

"All her philanthropy was tied to the notion that the poor did not want charity; they wanted improved conditions and work.

"Nothing was too good for the workers. All the buildings she did were of the highest quality. She was a great friend of [Charles] Dickens, who worked with her as a sort of unpaid bursar for more than 10 years. They planned Holly Village together down to the last details.

"There was a simple dust-extraction system, for example, which allowed the dust to be swept down a hole in the floor. Dickens called her 'my dearest friend' and described her qualities as 'seeing clearly with kind eyes'."

Anthea Masey
The Telegraph
27 August 2003










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The witching hour

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wNG5aPG2xoI

"The witching hour" - Nosferatu

Overland, you could take these lifeless hands in yours,
Breathe into me, things I gave up praying for.
Tired of shadow play, through a darker gaze,
Will you take what I want you to?
Will you forsake things you never should?
It's time, time to set the world alight.

Set your spirit free,
Come across the sky to me,
Give in to insanity,
The Witching Hour.
Wait for me behind the door,
I'll throw your body to the floor,
We will be apart no more,
The Witching Hour.

Can you feel, the fire that's burning me inside?
As your touch, darkens your betraying smile.
Cast unrest aside, it's time to come alive,
I don't think I need to tell you,
Such a mirrored ride

Set your spirit free,
Come across the sky to me,
Give in to insanity,
The Witching Hour.
Wait for me behind the door,
I'll throw your body to the floor,
We will be apart no more,

The witching hour

Del álbum "Lord of the Flies" (1998)

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Witchy

Marc Jacobs, Fall 2012

Vogue Korea

Foto: Jenn Hoffman

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Bad hairday :)

Nemi

© Lise Myhre

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Eternal beauty

 

Merle Oberon

Hedy Lamarr

Marlene Dietrich

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Beauty from dark

Drew Barrymore como toda una vamp del cine negro, en una sesión del conocido maquillador y fotógrafo Kevyn Aucoin (1962-2002) para su libro Making Faces (1999).

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