#bela tarr

[loneberry]

FIRST TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE

Images from my first total solar eclipse, depicting the outer corona, inner corona, prominent prominences, diamond ring, and the partial phase. Photos taken by Dan.

A black sun. Never had I seen a black sun, that insignia of melancholia that will forever remind me of Kristeva, which will forever remind me of M’s suicide—it was one of the few books M had with her at the very end, the book that her mother believed was the key to why she did it.

Black sun. On the day of—or day after—M’s death anniversary. I had been weeping for days when I found myself beneath that darkening sky.

*

What’s the difference between a partial and a total eclipse? I vaguely remember going onto the playground with some glasses as a child, but I don’t remember what I saw in the sky. What’s the big deal? The sky goes dark for a few minutes. It can’t be much different from the onset of night.

Wrong.

The rhapsodic scientists I listened to on various podcasts convinced me that there is really no comparison between a partial and total eclipse. I tried to hatch a last-minute plan to get myself in the path of totality. In the days leading up to the eclipse, I would be at the French King Bridge for M’s death anniversary. The only person I knew in Western MA, besides M’s mother, was my poet friend Ethan. So I asked him if he had a plan to see the eclipse.

I did not know, when I texted him out of the blue, that his parents lived in the path of totality in northern Vermont, that his father Dan was an astronomer (communist astronomer!) and eclipse chaser (this was his 14th eclipse), that Dan had even organized the local viewing event and wrote a book on the history of astronomy. At Ethan’s parents’ house there were literally photographs of eclipses mixed in with the family photos (see below). His father had even built a little observatory on his land. I had, in the most haphazard fashion, found the perfect guide to my first total solar eclipse.

Dan brought his equipment to the eclipse viewing: cameras, filters, binoculars, and a $4000 hydrogen alpha telescope that we used before the eclipse to look at the sun’s prominences and a sunspot on the surface. He enthusiastically answered all my questions. How had the Babylonians worked it out so long ago? Why does the wind pick up when the eclipse begins? Why is the sun’s corona so much hotter than the sun’s surface? (It’s still a mystery to the scientists…) Why why why. (People often tell me that I always ask a lot of questions—almost like an eternally curious child.)

The eclipse. It is not like the dimming of sunset, with its orange hues and plunge into the horizon, the low angle. It is a light unlike any light I have seen before, a strange dream-like atmosphere, a gray yet shimmering unreality, the air suddenly cold, the birds in a confused tumult. The uneven temperature of the atmosphere makes the wind pick up as the moon slowly covers the sun. Though the light was not the gold of sunset, you could see a band of orange on every horizon like a 360 degree sunset, an eerie gloaming that electrifies your skin.

A silence descended on the field as the moment of totality approached. Then, audible gasps—we couldn’t believe what we were seeing. I think the first thing I said was, “Holy. Shit.” Nothing prepared me for the numinous beauty of the sun’s corona, those elegant wisps of bright white light haloing the black sun. I think it’s probably the closest one can come to seeing God while alive on this earth. I cried during totality while observing the patterns in the corona through binoculars. A beautiful pink arch of plasma (a prominence) was visible toward the bottom of the sun. Dan pointed out Venus in the sky.

In the center of that black hole there is an abyssal silence

I don’t know how to describe it. Celestial indifference to human endeavor, human emotion. A kind of coldness in that heat, the heat of the corona, beyond even the fires of Hell. Then I can hear the angelic squall of the corona ringing over the landscape. It is a sound full of grace even as it cannot be called happy.

I can see why the ancients might interpret an eclipse as an augur of something deeply ominous, perhaps apocalyptic. The experience is, at once, sublime, ecstatic, and deeply unnerving—all your perceptual faculties are telling you that something is wrong. The ongoingness of the world and its rules cannot be taken for granted, for the sun went black, not in my dream, but in the afternoon sky.

And just as soon as it began, it was over. We had almost 3 and half minutes of totality. I was surprised by how quickly the sky brightened, how much light we get when the sun is almost completely covered.

One day the moon will float away. There won’t be any more total solar eclipses. Be grateful you were alive during this slice of cosmic time.

This is my favorite scene in all of cinema, from Béla Tarr's Werckmeister Harmonies. Watch drunkards reenact an eclipse in a drab Hungarian bar...

Ethan and communist astronomer dad!

I even got eclipse-branded maple syrup (peak Vermont)

[gacougnol]

Béla Tarr

Sántátangó 1994

[gael-garcia]

okay but, that's the dream

(Bela Tarr reflecting on film.factory, which went bankrupt after 3 years)

[fashionlandscapeblog]

Sátántangó (1994) - dir. Béla Tarr

[more-than-ideas]

Béla Tarr

[wetgeliscasualinterval]

Kárhozat (1988) dir. Béla Tarr

[alkolikreaksiyonlar]

Bir şeyler bana hep sonraki anda delireceğimi söyledi. Ama öyle olmadı. Üstelik delirmekten korkmuyorum. Delilik korkusu bir şeylere sadık kalma anlamına gelir. Henüz bir şeye sadık değilim. Her şeyin bana sadık olmasına rağmen, sadık olduğum bir şey yok. Onlara bakmamı istiyorlar. Nesnelerin olguların çaresizliğine. Penceremin dışındaki pis köpeğin, kurşini gökyüzünün altında, delicesine yağan yağmurda su içişine bakmamı istiyorlar. Acıklı çabalarını izlememi istiyorlar. Herkes, mezara girmeden önce konuşmaya çalışıyor. Zaten düştüler, konuşacak zamanları kalmadı. Beni delirtmek için nesnelerin bu geri dönülmezliğini istiyorlar. Bir sonraki anda ise delirmemi istiyorlar.

[lafiguraentutapiz]

Damnation. Béla Tarr. 1988

[tamurakafkaposts]

I’ve long understood there is zero difference between me and a bug, or a bug and a river, or a river and a voice shouting above it. There’s no sense or meaning in anything. It's nothing but a network of dependency under enormous fluctuating pressures.

Béla Tarr

[lascitasdelashoras]

Sátántangó - Béla Tarr

[loneberry]

Loved the deadpan humor of this piece by Agustín Fernández Mallo. It serendipitously ties all the threads of my summer together... I read novels by Fernández Mallo and Pavese this summer and am en route to Turin in the shadow of Nietzsche. I hope I won't lose my mind in Turin. I hope I won't wail “Mother, I am stupid,” never to recover my fragile wits again.

Should I stay in the room where Pavese suicided? (Maybe that would be grim but I am grim.)

*

When I tell people I am moving to Turin they always say the same thing:

Isn't that where Nietzsche lost his mind?

In fact, Geoff Rickly, the singer of a screamo band I was obsessed with as a teen, asked me this very question as we were chatting in the Moynihan Train Hall at Penn Station in NYC a couple weeks ago, right before I hopped on the Amtrak to DC. (A poster of Rickly's band Thursday is literally plastered on the wall behind my head as I type this from my childhood bedroom in Florida.)

Me: I'm moving to Turin soon.

Geoff: Isn't that where Nietzsche lost his mind?

Me: Yeah, when he witnessed the horse being flogged. Well, the story may be apocryphal...

Geoff: Ah, Turin Horse. Not my favorite Béla Tarr film...

Me: Yeah, it's not even about Nietzsche!

Geoff: Maybe obliquely...

Me: Werckmeister Harmonies is my favorite Béla Tarr.

Geoff: Damnation is mine.

Me: Sátántangó is pretty great.

Geoff: I like the book better.

Me: Oh, I love László Krasznahorkai. [How many times had I practiced pronouncing that unwieldy Hungarian name?? Well the practice paid off I guess... all for this one moment, probably the only time in my life I will have an occasion to utter "Krasznahorkai" aloud.]

[dramaneer]

Sátántangó (1994) Dir. Béla Tarr

[filmkareleri]

Werckmeister Harmonies (2000) // Bela Tarr

Striking, poignant and hypnotic A real masterpiece.

Thank you Bela Tarr!

[fashionlandscapeblog]

Damnation (1988) - dir. Béla Tarr

[davidskeet]

A woman nurses a baby vampire to maturity before receiving the ultimate gift...

[madragoras]

Clear evidence: Sátántangó is a masterpiece of Hungarian cinema that transcends conventional boundaries, offering a deeply immersive and reflective cinematic experience.

Based on the novel of the same name by László Krasznahorkai, this is a monumental cinematic journey, both in its unusual length and in its thematic and stylistic richness.

In terms of form, Sátántangó is clearly marked by its distinct black and white aesthetic and the use of long sequence shots, often static and contemplative. This stylistic approach, typicall of Béla Tarr, allows the viewer to completely immerse himself in the oppressive and desolate atmosphere of the Hungarian rural landscape depicted.

Narratively, the movie is a profound reflection on human nature, social decay and the search for meaning in an universe seemingly devoid of hope. Over the course of more than seven hours, the film delves into the details of life on an isolated collective farm, following the complex interactions between the local inhabitants.

The construction of the characters in Sátántangó is nothing less than notable due both to its complexity and its moral ambiguity. Each individual is presented as a tragic figure, trapped in an endless cycle of despair and resignation.

Furthermore, "Sátántangó" is a work rich in symbolism and metaphor, addressing universal themes such as power, corruption, redemption and hope. The constant rain, for example, can be interpreted as a symbol of purification or the inevitability of human destiny. Likewise, the characters' repetitive movements and the circular narrative structure reflect the feeling of stagnation and hopelessness that imbues their lives.

Despite its complexity and thematic density this isn't an inaccessible or hermetic film. On the contrary, it is a work that rewards attention and contemplation, inviting the viewers to reflect on their own existence and the mysteries of the human condition.

Ultimately, Sátántangó's dark beauty, philosophical depth, and masterful execution secure its place among the masterpieces of world cinema and is another demonstration of Tarr's genius.

Sátántangó

Year: 1994

My rating: 9

Runtime: 7 hours 19 minutes

Σαφείς αποδείξεις: Το Sátántangó είναι ένα αριστούργημα του ουγγρικού κινηματογράφου που ξεπερνά τα συμβατικά όρια, προσφέροντας μια βαθιά καθηλωτική και στοχαστική κινηματογραφική εμπειρία.

Βασισμένο στο ομώνυμο μυθιστόρημα του László Krasznahorkai, πρόκειται για ένα μνημειώδες κινηματογραφικό ταξίδι, τόσο σε ασυνήθιστη διάρκεια όσο και σε θεματικό και στυλιστικό πλούτο.

Όσον αφορά τη φόρμα, το Sátántangó χαρακτηρίζεται ξεκάθαρα από την ξεχωριστή ασπρόμαυρη αισθητικ�� του και τη χρήση λήψεων μεγάλης σειράς, συχνά στατικών και στοχαστικών. Αυτή η στιλιστική προσέγγιση, τυπική του Béla Tarr, επιτρέπει στον θεατή να βυθιστεί πλήρως στην καταπιεστική και έρημη ατμόσφαιρα του ουγγρικού αγροτικού τοπίου που απεικονίζεται.

Αφηγηματικά, η ταινία είναι ένας βαθύς προβληματισμός για την ανθρώπινη φύση, την κοινωνική παρακμή και την αναζήτηση νοήματος σε ένα σύμπαν που φαινομενικά στερείται ελπίδας. Κατά τη διάρκεια περισσότερων από επτά ωρών, η ταινία εμβαθύνει στις λεπτομέρειες της ζωής σε ένα απομονωμένο συλλογικό αγρόκτημα, ακολουθώντας τις περίπλοκες αλληλεπιδράσεις μεταξύ των κατοίκων της περιοχής.

Η κατασκευή των χαρακτήρων στο Sátántangó δεν είναι τίποτα λιγότερο από αξιοσημείωτη λόγω της πολυπλοκότητάς της και της ηθικής της ασάφειας. Κάθε άτομο παρουσιάζεται ως μια τραγική φιγούρα, παγιδευμένη σε έναν ατελείωτο κύκλο απόγνωσης και παραίτησης.

Επιπλέον, το «Sátántangó» είναι ένα έργο πλούσιο σε συμβολισμούς και μεταφορά, που πραγματεύεται παγκόσμια θέματα όπως η εξουσία, η διαφθορά, η λύτρωση και η ελπίδα. Η συνεχής βροχή, για παράδειγμα, μπορεί να ερμηνευθεί ως σύμβολο της κάθαρσης ή του αναπόφευκτου του ανθρώπινου πεπρωμένου. Ομοίως, οι επαναλαμβανόμενες κινήσεις των χαρακτήρων και η κυκλική αφηγηματική δομή αντανακλούν το αίσθημα στασιμότητας και απελπισίας που διαποτίζει τη ζωή τους.

Παρά την πολυπλοκότητα και τη θεματική της πυκνότητα, αυτή δεν είναι μια απρόσιτη ή ερμητική ταινία. Αντίθετα, είναι ένα έργο που ανταμείβει την προσοχή και τον στοχασμό, καλώντας τους θεατές να αναλογιστούν τη δική τους ύπαρξη και τα μυστήρια της ανθρώπινης υπόστασης.

Τελικά, η σκοτεινή ομορφιά, το φιλοσοφικό βάθος και η αριστοτεχνική εκτέλεση του Sátántangó εξασφαλίζουν τη θέση του ανάμεσα στα αριστουργήματα του παγκόσμιου κινηματογράφου και είναι άλλη μια απόδειξη της ιδιοφυΐας του Tarr.

Sátántangó

Έτος: 1994

Η βαθμολογία μου: 9

Διάρκεια: 7 ώρες 19 λεπτά