BORROWED LIGHT

Yesterday, I have seen a dance performance Borrowed Light by Tero Saarinen Company in Finnish National Theatre. It was so amazing... beyond words amazing. More information here.

MOMENTS OF TRANSLATION

Uuno Kailas (1901 -1933)

Paljain jaloin
Bosih nog
translated by Kaneli

Niin mä kerran
Tako nekoč
tieni aloin
začel sem pot
niin mä kuljen:
tako hodim:
paljain jaloin.
bosih nog.

Avohaavat
Žive rane
syvät näissä
njih globoke
ammottavat
odpirajo
kantapäissä:
se v pete:

rystysihin
not v členke
joka kiven
vsakter' kamen
jäänyt niist' on
od njih ostal
verta hiven.
je del krvi.

- Mutta niinkuin
-A kot tako
matkan aloin,
začel sem pot,
päätän myös sen:
jo končam še:
paljain jaloin.
bosih nog.

Silloinkin, kun
Tudi kadar
tuska syvin
bol globoko
viiltää, virkan:
reže, kriknem:
- Näin on hyvin.
- To je dobro.

Tapahtukoon
Naj zgodi se
tahtos sinun,
želja tvoja,
Kohtaloni,
Moja usoda,
eikä minun
in ne moja.

MARRASKUUN LAULUJA

Ervo, Arvo, Kaarle ja Simeoni Viikate

Rakkaat ihmiset... there is a band I have wanted to tell about some time ago. For some reasons I have not managed to tackle the theme until these days. I think seeing them live on stage is more than a good opportunity to write a few lines. The band is VIIKATE.

The Finnish friendship I have had brought some good music into my life; very Finnish music, to be precise. Now I continue the exploration on my own - and as I am in Finland, this means going to as many very Finnish gigs as possible. To Viikate I have been introduced at the beginning of this year. I remember how I listened to them in spring, but I did not pay that much attention to the music. Then, some strange magic has happened. For the last few months Viikate has been my favorite band by all means. Perhaps life in Finland has increased my affection towards their music; I cannot really say. This love has just emerged all of a sudden.

The band's name in English would be Scythe. Four members with recognizable artsy names; they also share the surname Viikate. Online sources tag their sounds mainly as metal, wire metal, rock and folk rock. If I lean on my own discoveries and humble knowledge about music genres, I could also say their music reflects 1950s rock style, quit rockabilly-like. The influence of Finnish schlagers is strongly present, too; the important name here would be Reino Helismaa since Viikate's style has been described as Helismaa-metal. Viikate are oldfashioned, but in a very good way.

For me, Viikate is much more than just one very Finnish metal band. It is hard to say how metal they actually are. Their music reaches far beyond metal - and sometimes even beyond words. Do not ask me which is my favorite Viikate song; there is lots of them. I like their melodics, the riffs seem so unique and, most of all, so beautiful. Genuine style indeed. As I always put a lot of stress on good lyrics, Viikate does not let me down here either. They feature real poetry - only in Finnish. The language of their words feels oldish; it is not easy Finnish for sure. Just imagine gloomy words within merry riffs and lively, sometimes rockabilly-like sounds. Melancholy and darkness, but on the other hand also very special joy, even irony. As a foreigner living in Finland and being in strong contact with Finnish culture I could say Viikate capture a great deal of pure Finnishness. Also, if I compare the overall atmospheres, Viikate could be Aki Kaurismäki in music.

Kaarle Viikate Lutakossa, toinen päivä marraskuuta

Friday November the 2nd was the day to see Viikate live for the first time. The band has just published their new album Marraskuun lauluja II - November Songs. Since this is the month of my birthday I am happy there is a band that prefers November so much they have published actually two albums dedicated to it. Anyway, I am sure Viikate have been playing in Lutakko many times, but still the place was full of people. The audience seemed a bit older, like my age and more; I have also seen two ladies in classical trousers and high heels, wearing Viikate shirts.

Kaarle ja Ervo Viikate Lutakon lattialla

The gig itself was just great. At least I felt it so; a few months ago I had fallen deeply into this music, and the oportunity to see the bend live came so soon. Frontman Kaarle Viikate knows well how to address the audience - very in style. Almost in book Finnish, kirjakieli, and again with a bit oldfashioned expressions. The band has lots of presence on stage, the performance is proper. Their live sounds do not differ much from the recordings; the melodic parts created jolly atmosphere. I guess I was among a very few foreigners, if there were any, that could sing-a-long with the rest of the Finnish audience. Nice event by all means - and yes, I am already looking forward to see Viikate live again.

Kaipuun taivaalla loistaa kuu
Hallamaillakin aurinko nousee
Tuomion tähdet kimaltaa
Tuomion tähdet kimaltaa, ne toisille kimaltaa
Viikate - Hallamaat - Marraskuun lauluja II

P.S.: I might post Viikate music video in the days to come, but until then check out their sounds here.

CLOSE TO ARCTIC

Arctic tundra in Rovaniemi

I woke up from my sleep and looked out from the window. What I saw was a landscape of winter. Drifting snow in the air, ground covered with it, all white. Nothing but winter. Oh fuck. I fall asleep again. When I woke up again, the bus was driving in clear sunny weather, somewhere near Oulu. Was the snow only a dream...?

Frozen waters of Rovaniemi

No dream that was. On our way to Rovaniemi last Thursday morning, a small part of our journey was snowy indeed. But despite Rovaniemi is almost in the Arctic circle, only 8 km away from napapiiri, there was no snow in the capital of Lapland; it was just cold and clear. However, we spent the afternoon first at the University of Lapland, admiring the new building where Media studies are located. Really grate places for students to practise their creativity; for instance big studio for video production the students at Slovenian Academy for Theatre, Radio, Film and Television can only dream about. We were also told that each student there would be given - yep, a new laptop. Such is the system of studies only 8 km away from the everfrozen Arctic...

The close-to-Arctic afternoon then lead us into the city. The following event on the list was the opening of the photographic exhibition Changing Faces - Work #3 in the Rovaniemi Art Museum. However, since there was a couple of hours left before the exhibition, there was some time to explore the city.

A part of the city

Towards Lordin Aukio

Rovaniemi is small, yet it does not offer such first impression; it feels big and lofty. There are at least two famous persons/groups of persons on the commercial market. The first one is Santa Clause - yep, there is his own village within napapiiri. Anyway, if you remember Eurosong Song Contest 2006, you also remember Finnish monster-like band Lordi. They won that Eurosong, froze the Hell and brought the event to Helsinki. And yes, their frontman Tomi Putaansuu is from Rovaniemi. As an eternal remnant of this great victory, now Rovaniemi has a Lordin Aukio - Lordi Square.

The monument

There is not only Lordi Square. It was merely a coincidence that we passed by Lordi's Rocktaurant. I have read about that Lordi's restaurant last year, but then it has slip from my mind. So, by a mere chance, we happened to eat there, too. The food was nothing special, however, the experience was what counted the most. Some names for the food were funny indeed: like Petterin viimeinen matka/Rudolf's Last Journey for a dish containing reindeer meat. Not only that, there were also a few local metal fans enjoying their meal. However, as I would start to discuss Lordi and their restaurant as an element of commercial culture, it is better to write on other things...

Lordi's Rocktaurant

The Northern lights did not appear during the night, despite we have been told revontulet had been seen a couple of weeks ago. When the night became cold morning, we have decided to visit the museum Arktikum before going to the seminar lectures. I really enjoyed the exhibitions. They featured mainly life in the Arctic, nature, climate - and Sami culture. It was interesting to listen the samples of Sami language; I was also told there had been seven official Sami languages, and then there are also dialects. I also tried to read some writings in Sami language, but of course I could not understand any of it. Within the nature part I saw a moose for the first time. Just too bad that moose was an animal once alive and now stuffed. However, I was really impressed how big and great the moose actually had been. The next two such once alive and now stuffed animals I have always liked were the polar bear and the wolverine (in my opinion the Finnish hyena). However, if the road ever leads you to Rovaniemi, then Arktikum is a good place to visit. Especially if you would like to retreat from the cold wind...

Arktikum - the entrance

The Rovaniemi trip finished with the seminar lectures; the artists from Changing faces exhibition told about their work. Finally, two days seemed quite enough to get a first taste of Lapland. During the seven hours long drive back to Jyväskylä, we have also found out something. When some of us wondered, where we had been at the moment, like considering the position of the bus on the map, the easiest and in most cases very correct answer was - in the forest.

THE DAY OF LITERATURE

JUHANI. Yhdestä maailman kulmasta kuumoittaa meille vieläkin rauhan päivä. Ilvesjärvi tuolla Impivaaran kupeilla on se satama, jonne purjehdimme myrskyistä pois. Nyt olen päättänyt.

LAURI. Sen tein minä jo menneenä vuonna.

EERO. Minä seuraan teitä vaikka Impivaaran syvimpään luolaan, jossa, niinkuin sanotaan, vanha vuoren-ukko keittelee pikiä, päässä kypärä sadasta lammasnahasta.

TUOMAS. Sinne tästä siirrymme kaikki.

JUHANI. Sinne siirrymme ja rakennamme uuden maailman.

Aleksis Kivi: Seitsemän veljestä

These are the words from kertomus Seven brothers by Finnish national writer, poet, novelist and playwright Aleksis Kivi. Today, on October the 10th and his birthday, it was Aleksis Kiven päivä - suomalaisen kirjallisuuden päivä. The day of Aleksis Kivi, the day of Finnish literature. Thus, flags were fluttering in the cold wind...

This kertomus still awaits me to read it in Finnish. Yet tomorrow in the early morning I am off to Lapland until Friday. The Digital Culture class will attend an exhibition and a seminar in Rovaniemi. Perhaps, we will also see first snowflakes...

READING MARATHON

While some of you might have had an exciting times lately, my life has been pretty quiet. At least it has seemed so. For the last few days, there has been only one thing going on. I have started a reading marathon.

I have never been serious trend-follower. If there was something very in at one time, I would rather place myself in the distance; I guess there is a bit of alternative-artsy attitude. Kind of trying to avoid commercialism and all that. So it was with these very famous books. When all were reading them, hardly expecting the next in the final row of seven, I was not a part of that excited population. This is just special me. If there is some mania going on, I would stay in the distance, yet I would knew what it is all about. I knew basic info on this particular mania, too. I knew some characters, I knew the basic plot, I even knew some lines. And yes, I would check what it was all about sometime latter. Bits me, why. That special me. Anyway, there are books we are talking about - and such overall reading-mania should be respected. Much better for the kids (and adults) to read rather than stick their noses into computer or telly.

Now, the time has come. I have started to read HARRY POTTER. From the very first book. In English.

The first two books required approximately two days; now I am already well ahead with the third one. Things will change slightly when starting the fourth book, you know how thick it is - and onwards. However, it has been very relaxing so far. I have really been missing such devoted reading. All-day reading, being so absorbed into the story. And do not blame me for neglecting Slovene translations. I enjoy reading in English.

I wonder when this marathon will be finished. There are things I will have to tackle that seem much more important than the world of Harry Potter. Well, I have been in Snape-like mood lately, too. It is quite possible I have deliberately charmed a few escapistic days for me. But hei, despite autumn is approaching, it is still summer... and it seems I will spend a part of it at Hogwarts.

TWO AMONG THE GREATEST

The Seventh Seal - Ingmar Bergman

Two of the great artists left us. Two of the greatest film directors of the past century. The ways of destiny seem... special. The two film directors departed together.

INGMAR BERGMAN (14 July 1918 - 30 July 2007) and MICHELANGELO ANTONIONI (29 September 1912 - 30 July 2007)

Last month, I have been writing on Ingmar Bergman and his world... however, Michelangelo Antonioni has also been among my filmic literature. It is a bit used phrase to write down - nevertheless it is true: they will live in their works.

Blowup - Michelangelo Antonioni

THE WORLD OF BERGMAN

What can I write about INGMAR BERGMAN. For all of those that perhaps have not heard his name yet, he is one of the key film directors of the past century. One among the greatest, too. Born in Uppsala, Sweden, on 14 July 1918. I won't copy many bio-facts as these can be easily found; it is a part of Nordic, more precisely, Swedish cinematography we will talk about. Second, the reason why I want to write on Bergman is the fact that I have started to follow a retrospective of his works. It will go on for some time, every Sunday evening on our national TV. Anyway, I remember I was drawn into the world of Ingmar Bergman during my studies. Now when I am a few years older, I feel it even stronger.

The film causing this post is THE SEVENTH SEAL - DET SJUNDE INSEGLET from 1957. Quick synopsis from Movie Masterworks: A Knight and his squire are home from the crusades. Black Death is sweeping their country. As they approach home, Death appears to the knight and tells him it is his time. The knight challenges Death to a chess game for his life. The Knight and Death play as the cultural turmoil envelopes the people around them as they try, in different ways, to deal with the upheaval the plague has caused.

The film thus reveals a medieval plot with carefully built medieval iconography. I would say this world is constructed so carefully, that every single element supports the other. Great script, living in full images. The feeling of the overall catastrophe, constant presence of Death himself, develops macabre atmosphere. So gothic. Yet there is also joy and richness of the moment. Lovely youth and life, underlined with the beauty of actress Bibi Andersson. It is the world that mirrors heritage of AUGUST STRINDBERG and his dreamplays, Swedish playwritgh I also like a lot. Symbolistic heritage. Reality is constantly touching the world beyond: reality is becoming the world beyond itself.

There is also one theme following Bergman again has reminded me about. I will open it here just briefly. The simplicity of great artwork. The simplicity that is, I think, not so easy to achieve. It takes time and effort. Full simplicity it is. Simple that is perfect. No spectacle, just a few elements. Carefully chosen light. In general, I like such artworks. Simple, yet so full. I remember seeing an exhibition of Finnish designer Tapio Wirkkala. There was a photo, how Wirkkala studied a handle for a white cup. Simple handle. All of those variations seemed pretty much the same. Nonsense, one could say. But the final product captured the full simplicity. Less that is much more. And this is also the path I am trying to follow as a writer.

More images from The Seventh Seal as well as more on Ingmar Bergman and his works can be found here.

MURAKAMI'S WHISPER

Some time ago, I went to the bookshop. In the window I saw a book by HARUKI MURAKAMI; I have already been writing about this beloved writer of mine. Well, the book that attracted my attention was KAFKA ON THE SHORE.

So I bought this paperback edition in English as there is no Slovene translation yet and I cannot read Japanese. It was even the last copy in the bookshop. But then I have had some other and more study-like books to read. Thus, my dear new Murakami is still waiting patiently to be read. Nevertheless my curiosity has forced me to do some occasional peeks. Now please do not laugh as I did when checking out original title - Kafka in Japanese is called Kafuka.

Recently, I again opened Kafka on the Shore. The book happened to open at the page 212. There was the thought you can find enclosed within the following lines. How strange coincidence. These words were exactly what I needed to hear at that particular time. And I still find some comfort in them at this moment.

This is why I so like Haruki Murakami.

In everybody's life there's a point of no return. And in a very few cases, a point where you can't go forward any more. And when we reach that point, all we can do is quietly accept the fact. This is how we survive.

SAY IT STRONG

This week, one student has sent me a couple of questions. She is writing an article about me for Slovenian Theatre Portal SiGledal. I am appearing there as a playwright. The questions were about my plays. About my ideas, what I want to tell. Okay, the best way to find this out is to read what I have produced so far, but this is actually not the case here. Some time ago, another person asked me about overall style of my writing. Well, again I have noticed... how hard it is actually to talk about my own work. And I have started to think about my position as a writer.

I believe theatre can be strong media. Direct and merciless. Honest. I have been dealing a lot with critical and sharp authors. Artist, being well aware that, as Hamlet said, something is rotten in the state of Denmark. Alright, not particularly in that country. In general, I would say. I admire Bertold Brecht, and I have also been dealing a lot with young British punky-playwrights; so called In-Year-Face Theatre. However, when I have consider my own position... Yes, I should bear some kind of responsibility as a writer. More responsibility, perhaps. Is there any kind of power my words can have? Well...

I write very intimate stories. Micro-worlds of individuals, far away from all battlefields this world knows about. And I guess this is the most honest writing I can produce at the moment. I observe the society, human relations around me. I observe communication, how words and language are loosing their meaning. My own experience included. Thus, I write about micro-worlds. Intimate battlefields of different desires. Intimate conflicts. Intimate terrorism. Two people. He has disappeared four years ago. Finally, she finds him in the midst of Icelandic dessert. What happens when they meet again? This is, briefly, the plot of my latest play.

There is a thought about my writing I have come upon. Wherever we are, we cannot escape the general state of the world. We pretend that everything is fine, we go shopping, we go to the movies. We fall in love, we have sex, we separate and so on. However... I think the state of the present world affects our relations. Our overall communication. Being aware of it or not. It does affect us. We do not see many of the battlefields and other shit; yet we can feel it. More than we would like to. More than we even know. Thus, the micro-worlds I write about are also a reflection of this bigger world that surrounds them.

Art in general can be strong media. Visual arts, movies, music. Any kind of art can produce very strong statements. I have seen many art works of all kinds I could write about. Yet... can art actually change anything? Brief thought, disgust, a sting in one's hart, perhaps a quarrel; and it goes by. The world, the society, people's behaving towards the Other. Can it be changed? Is there really any influence art can provide? Here, I feel unsure... but I will keep on writing.

POETRY

These are the stories of Edgar Allan Poe

not exactly the boy next door
He'll tell you tales of horror

then he'll play with your mind

if you haven't heard of him

you must be deaf or blind

(Lou Reed: Edgar Allan Poe)

I have some friends that are big fans of Edgar Allan Poe. This post I address to them: here is a recommendation for Poe's admirers. During the past days, I have been listening to Lou Reed a lot. First, I gather here some very brief info on Reed (1942); though I expect many people know much more about this American musician than I do. Hei, do you know Walk On The Wild Side, Perfect Day, Satelite Of Love? Reed's thingies. However, he expanded the vocabulary of rock & roll lyrics into the previously forbidden territory of kinky sex, drug use (and abuse), decadence, transvestites, homosexuality, and suicidal depression. As has been pointed out less often, he remained (and remains) committed to using rock & roll as a forum for literary, mature expression well into middle age, without growing lyrically soft or musically complacent. By and large, he's taken on these challenging duties with uncompromising honesty and a high degree of realism. For these reasons, he's often cited as punk's most important ancestor. Thus, he is also called ''the father of punk'' (protopunk). It's often overlooked, though, that he's equally skilled at celebrating romantic joy, and rock & roll itself, as he is at depicting harrowing urban realities. Although Reed achieved his greatest success as a solo artist, his most enduring accomplishments were as the leader of The Velvet Underground in the '60s.

Lou Reed is by all means among those that write very good lyrics. Sometimes, he even reminds me on Tom Waits (indeed they are a bit similar). However, as Tom Waits, Reed too collaborated with my favorite theatre director Robert Wilson. I have already been writing on this crazy yet fascinating theatre guy, so I will not repeat myself. For Wilson, Reed composed music for production POE-try. The production took place in 2003 at Thalia Theater, Hamburg, Germany. The production was dedicate to one particular person - Edgar Allan Poe. Yeah, that's why the production was called POE-try...

Wilson is a legend, Reed is a legend, Poe is a legend by all means... they all together made a nice and commercial cocktail... okay, but I will not tackle this fact now. Nice trick to get all sorts of people into theatre, though. I dare to speculate some keen metal fans might have come to the theatre on behalf of good old Poe... Alright, finally, I was able to download Lou Reed's double album The Raven. Which includes the music Reed did for POE-try.

You can imagine this big album is all about Edgar Allan Poe. Lots of his words spoken; theatrical, and actually quite good. Of course, there is Poe's Raven. The whole of its story, beware, interpreted by Willem Dafoe. Okay, the story is slighlty changed... you'll hear, how. There is also almost 9 minutes long spoken piece The Fall of the House of Usher, there is Hop Frog's story (featuring David Bowie)... and so on.

Well, perhaps one cannot write totally objective review/recommendation here if this one is also a fan of Wilson, Reed and Poe... but still. As far as I have been listening to the album, I can say it is special, different... and pretty much artsy. Or at least it tries to be. There are pieces that at first ''glance'' reminded me even on Sun O))), especially when considering spoken interpretation underlined with gloomy soundscape, yet on the other hand, there are also classical rock pieces. Here, I can expose the piece Edgar Allan Poe which is funny and very rocky thingie. So all in all, this album is quite colorful and quite attention dragging. And yes, there are Poe and his attributes pretty much everywhere...

ONLY RABBITS AND WRITERS

Yesterday I completed one quite small but on the other hand quite sweet task. I wrote a book review. To be broadcasted on the radio. I hope I did it successfully. Well, I will get my feedback sooner or later. Nevertheless this little task makes me proud. Yeah, right, I give a fuck if I am overdoing it. As a dramaturge, I have already written some book reviews, whereas those were all books on performing arts. More or less my field. I have also written theatre and dance reviews; loads of them. Writing on stuff which has to do with performing arts is nothing but my profession.

However, the review I wrote yesterday is not on performing arts. It was on a novel. Pure literature. Perhaps I should give the title here: Dedu za petami - Searching for Grandpa - Isoisää etsimässä by Arto Paasilinna. Fresh Slovenian translation. Okay, the original seems Finnish. And so it is. Just please do not think I went totally nuts and crazy since I am writing something about the mentioned land again. I have always been a freak; but this is actually not the case in this post. Back to the book now. I happen to like Paasilinna. As many other readers do. I was even trying to read him in Finnish. Reader-friendly by all means (and in both languages): simple stories, interesting and so nicely odd characters, lots of humor and irony. As well as this traces of melancholy he includes. Decent entertainment indeed. After I have spent at least some small amount of time in Finland, I dare to say I have got slightly better insight into Finnish society and the landscapes Paasilinna writes about. It is special tunnelma in his writing. The atmosphere one cannot even tell about; one just has to feel it.

Sure it was fun to write this review. Oh, you might have started to wonder about the discussed book. Quite okay, yet not that okay as those most famous works of Arto Paasilinna. Not that good as Zajčje leto-The Year of the Hare-Jäniksen vuosi, for instance. Perhaps it also needs to be marked here that Searching for Grandpa is actually not one of the latest Paasilinna's books; it was written back in 1977.

Some time ago I have had this crisis. Like that I did not feel as writing any kind of reviews. I mean, in a way I felt kind of empty, without proper ideas and especially without some theoretical backup. Fuck this artistic apathy, I said, be more active; it's all about this special laziness. Of course I am capable of writing several different thingies; if I only decide to tackle them properly. I just have to give myself a slight push, I have to wait for the silence of the night, then I have to sit down and start writing...

ROMANIAN MYSTIC

Oh dragul meu me mistuie focul iubirii ... (In Romanian)

There is this affair going on in Slovenia for a month now. What to do with one Roma family, that has ended up in quarrels with locals of one village. The authorities are trying to move them into other communities, but it seems nobody would really tolerate this family. Well, they are Roma, the Gypsies. Even European Union has already paid attention to the case. Yep, we here respect all those great European nations; but when it comes to marginals, and Roma are perceived as marginals, then the level of tolerance changes rapidly. But I am not here to analyse the practicular problem; still I am writing in connection to it. Yesterday I saw a movie that touched me a lot. TRANSYLVANIA by Gypsy-Algerian-French director Tony Gatlif. Let me copy the plot here.

Zingarina arrives to Transylvania. She is not there to visit this region of Romania but to trace her lover Milan, a musician who has made her pregnant and who left her without a word. When she finds him back, he brutally rejects her and Zingarina is terribly upset. Her destiny changes when she meets Tchangalo, a traveling trader.

Transylvania. Just whisper this misterious name gently into the air. The whole Romania feels mystical to me, and not only because of Vlad Ţepeş DRACULA. However, the self-searching journey of Zingarina displays such magic of the land. ''Imagine everything you can; I've been through it,'' says Zingarina. She turns her pain into pure beauty; she slowly melts with Transylvania, forgetting her past, becoming a nomad. Pure life and passion. So different from everydays in the so called West. Transylvania becomes a world unknown to common European eyes. Romantic world. Hard and cruel world. Constant journey. But also the world where facing constant hate and intolerance...

The narration seems impressive. Full of feelings, yet not overdone. Magic reality, sometimes. Pure and honest. Such is the story of a Gypsy-like traveler. The story told through several languages. Also through powerful music and images. Oh, inspired with the legendary work of director EMIR KUSTURICA and musician GORAN BREGOVIĆ? Anyway, I think this movie too tells strongly how every different world bears unique beauty. Romantic or even naive thoughts, but still. Why are we so afraid of these differences, why are we rejecting this special culture, why do we not want to discover and understand it's beauty?

Oh, and now I am even more tempted to visit Romania one day too.

HARUKI'S BLUE

Letters are nothing but a piece of paper. Despite you burn them, the memories that have remained will still remain; despite you keep them, that what has vanished, vanishes.

It seems to me I can no longer make the difference between one and the other, between the things that have existed and the things that have not existed.

(Haruki Murakami)

Wednesdays seem to be my blue days. For some time now almost every Wednesday happens so that I end up in melancholy. Emotionally restless. Reminiscent. Nostalgic with some pain. Thinking about the past over and over again, recalling faces and events, looking into the future with fear.

Now I can bind the upper words with the reason why I came to write here. HARUKI MURAKAMI. Japanese writer. Today I have started to read the third book bearing his name on the covers. South of the Border, West of the Sun. This month I have also noticed Murakami has been given the Franz Kafka Prize in Prague. I have discovered the words of Haruki Murakami last year. Since then I have been his fan. Well, I read him in Slovenian only; I have not search for English translations so far. But I happened to see a Japanese movie Toni Takitani featuring Murakami's script. And for all of those who know my new play: yes, Murakami too has influenced my writing.

The first Murakami's book I have ever read is Norveški gozd, Norwegian Wood (Noruei no mori). Lots of Murakami's work is influenced with music strongly; he owned a jazz bar. Norwegian Wood too is inspired with the Beatles's famous song. Though that wood in Murakami's case refers more to a forest (mori). The book caught my intention immediately. A story of love and discovering sexsuality, a story of loss and confusion. The main character is Toru Watanabe, a drama student living in Tokyo. The whole novel is actually told as his reminiscence. I still see the images strongly... like, for instance, the peaceful sanatorium near Kyoto where Toru travels to visit emotionally troubled Naoko... the flat of Midori, Toru's second love... the weak firefly he releases from the jar in Tokyo... finally, his overall softness and confusion.

I feel Murakami's writing as a tender poetry. Intimate poetry. Inner worlds. Touching the reader really into the depths of mind, every now and then. Strong images; even beyond reality. Carefully constructed reflection of some time, of some world. Recommended!

And as being a writer myself I can add this thought here: even the most intimate and tender story can (critically and strongly) reflect the whole world and the whole time we are living or we have been living in...

TENHI

There is this brief image of a guy Ilmari playing kantele in my new play Severna pravljica (Northern Tale), remember? Heh, do you know, where does this image actually come from? More then a year ago I have been given a DVD with lots and lots of music. Paljon kiitoksia to my great Finnish friend Kalle for sharing these sounds! I have really got so much special energy from this music. There was Tenhi too.

Since then, Tenhi has been with me. Always and everywhere. I have noticed how music inspires my writing strongly. There is no doubt Tenhi has had a huge impact. Progressive rock, folk inspired, if I add sorta professional definition. Much more special sounds, though. So much inspiration I have found within these pieces. Melancholic the music is, however, this is a different kind of melancholy. It suits me just perfectly. Many people consider Tenhi as sad, even if they do not understand the lyrics. Well, for me this is a melancholy that is able to reach beyond sorrow; into the world beyond I can't even find right words to describe. One just has to hear and feel this beyond, I guess. The sorrow which actually cures one's sadness. Offers special kind of support. Calms down trubled mind.

Soft and tender, dark and deep. Väre smells of falling leaves, rustling in the warm autum, in Maaäet I feel the snow melting and the waters running in the chilly spring... Magic, pure magic. As well as the charm of Finnish language, even more beautiful within these pieces. Good lyrics indeed (click the title). The vocal of Tyko Saarikko as it would be the voice of a shaman. And yes, one of the band members is named Ilmari.

Really special magic I can find in Tenhi. When I have finally experienced Finnish nature in all it's mighty, those forests, lakes, ponds, swamps... then, the secrets of Tenhi have been revealed; partly at least. If I only remember me standing on the swampy shore of the quiet Mustalampi...

These days again I have found myself singing Hiljaiseksi lampi jää, Jäljen and Rannalta haettu. I just dare to say Tenhi are among those... seven (let's say seven since this number bears some meanings)... so seven major reasons I would just leave all the errands here, spend the money, go, sit on the plane for Finland... in case of this one from those seven reasons, only to see Tenhi playing live. Will I ever be given such a chance...?

MOVIES IN SOCKS

I somehow ended at the opening night of Suomalaisen nykyelokuvan viikko, The Week of Contemporary Finnish Film. First I was in doubts, should I go at all since I had to make a sacrifice on behalf of one Finnish movie. Errr... I really needed to go out, I feel like getting crazy, being fed up just perfectly with everything. I have been into my thesis, it is heavy; for some reasons these very final meters before one reaches the goal seems the hardest to survive... by all means. I am neither the first nor the last person dealing with final thesis in this time and world, but still.Finally, I sorta got over yesterday's sorrow, I put myself together a bit, and went there.

It seemed that mostly the Finns living here had come to see the movie. Finns or Slovenians attached to Finland from several different reasons. Both missing Finland from several different reasons (more or less), both being (more or less) happy there is something Finnish to see and hear. Okay, if we forget the endless possibilities of internet and the astonishing DVD technology.

Kalle wrote me like the Finns feel prejudices about their movies; they prefer foreign products. The situation seems the same as when Slovenians meet Slovenian movies. Our audience as it would be far more critical towards our own film; still it is true Slovenian movies have gained some more required qualities as late as only few years ago. However, there is a sense of quite big development, and I could speculate Slovenian film will gain more success in the future. Well, financial support is yet another story.

Anyway, this Finnish movie itself was nothing too special. Lapsia ja aikuisia - kuinka niitä tehdään, translated into Making Adoults. Sort of a bitter comedy on relationships; when it comes to Finnish humor, I have noticed it caries seeds of bitterness quite often... am I right? However, after some funny as well as bitter moments, two women friends find out they are actually in love with eachother. Sweet indeed.

That was the movie. Then, the mingling part started. The most interesting part of the evening. So at one point I found myself, pretty much relaxed, chatting in Finnish with some young Finns on languages. Yep, Slovenian is hard to learn; for us too. Or how one can unexpectedly meet Finns everywhere, just like I keep bumping into Slovenians in some weird places (in the middle of Icelandic nowhere, for instance). Or latter, what the fuck is all about those slippers? Well, Slovenians seem keen on using slippers, while Finns do not; they prefer woolen socks. And that the real Finnish man, so the one who really is a man, rides a bike rather than travelling on a bus (bike rules, yes indeed). However, I was very much surprised with that short moment when I realised I had actually been chatting in Finnish - relaxed, as it would be English. Despite the fact I can still encounter problems when it comes uppon the dialect of Turku.

Now to end this boasting - there will be like a row of fresh Finnish movies here to see. No Aki Kaurismäki this time, yet the name Kaurismäki is the main trademark when discussing contemporary Finnish film. Perhaps I will write another, more ''theoretical'' post on Finnish movies (Kaurismäki included) at the end of this short festival. Nevertheless the latest Kaurismäki will be seen here within a month. International Ljubljana Film Festival LIFFE will present Laitakaupungin valot, Lights at the Edge of the City, on the 21st of November. Until then, just click the title of this post... as well as enjoy the very short explanation below.

ELOKUVA -> movie, film (what else)

elo -> life, zivljenje (more ''poetic'', usually elämä)

kuva -> picture, slika