Monthly archives: October, 2019

After the wedding

October 17, 2019 by Veronica Verbeek in Films

film review

Secrets and surprises

After the wedding is a remake of Susanne Bier’s 2006 drama by the same name. It differs in that the two main characters are women instead of men: Isabel, an idealist (Michelle Williams) and Theresa, a millionaire (Julian Moore). Their worlds intertwine in unexpected ways.

Isabel runs an orphanage in Calcutta, India, which needs new funds as soon as possible. A group in New York City is interested, but not willing to pay anything, unless Isabel herself flies over to prove her need for an investment.

She is quiet of nature and somewhat inhibited, so when provided with an absolutely luxurious suite in a very expensive hotel she does not know what to say, especially having come from a nearly poverty situation. She believes the richness offered her by the group is completely unwarranted.

She meets Theresa, the manager of the New York group, who overwhelms her by putting the grant for the orphanage in doubt. Thus we have the beginning of the relationship between an introverted and an extraverted woman, one of them being extremely wealthy and the other not: a contrast which is unsettling, but not overpowering in terms of cynicism or self-importance.

Strangely enough, at least to Isabel, Theresa invites Isabel to the wedding between her daughter Grace (Abby Quin) and Jonathan (Alex Esola). Being somewhat intimidated by the shimmering wealth of the scene, Isabel stands aside, when suddenly her attention is drawn to Oscar (Billy Crudup), a man she knows well. Oscar, a highly successful artist, appears to be Theresa’s husband. He notices Isabel at the same time and is equally startled. He keeps their conversation short. Too much is to be said. What secrets are working between the two and how does this relate to Theresa, who appears to have secrets of her own?

As the film progresses, Isabel wants a decision on funding, but is convinced by Theresa to stay on a while longer than the week Isabel had planned. Hence, Isabel is inevitably drawn into the family of Oscar and Theresa, including Grace and her husband Jonathan. Secrets slowly begin to emerge, causing consternation and discontent for Isabel, but also for Grace.

Theresa has her own concerns which will inevitably determine the outcome of the film. The revelations are accompanied by everyone, on the one hand, with relief, but on the other hand, with dismay and great unhappiness.

At the end of the film, relationships have changed and purposes in life have been altered forever. Williams is superb in showing how Isabel is able to adapt to a new and challenging role in life, while Moore in the role of Theresa is convincing by carrying her own heart-breaking secret almost to a conclusion.

Bert Freundlich, the director and husband of Julienne Moore, maintains a tension between the characters and between not knowing at all and knowing too much.

 

production:  A Riverstone Pictures, Rock Island Film, Corner Stone Films and a Joel B Michaels Production

director:  Bert Freundlich

screenplay:  based on the Academy Award nominated film by Susan Bier

cinematography:  Julio Mat

editor:  Joseph Krings

music Mchael Danna

run time: 112 minutes

cast:  Michelle Williams as Isabel, Julienne Moore as Theresa, Abby Quinn as Grace, Billy Crudup as Oscar  and Alex Esola as Jonathan

distributor: Dutch FilmWorks

 

 

 

 

Vibration in Wayne Thiebaud’s work

October 2, 2019 by Veronica Verbeek in Exhibitions

Museum Voorlinden, Wassenaar

9 June 2018 – 28 October 2018 

The works of Wayne Thiebaud (b. 15 November 1920) were vaguely familiar to us given his inclusion in an exhibition on American realist painters at the Emden Kunsthalle earlier this year. Consequently, we had some notion as to what to expect when about to cover a first European retrospective of Thiebaud’s works at Museum Voorlinden in Wassenaar, South Holland. Upon entering the exhibition at the beautifully designed museum we were struck by his seemingly ordinary paintings of cakes, pies, ice cream cones and hot dogs.

But then upon closer scrutiny we were surprised to see a great variety of colors in thick blotches of paint making up the objects on display. Also, curiously enough, the cakes, pies, etc. were painted, as it were, in isolation. An ice cream cone all by itself, or lonely hot dogs. Pastries were either placed on an isolated shelf or in a singular case, leaving it up to your imagination as to their actual location. In addition, Thiebaud’s pastry objects exuded the use of heavy pigment, exaggerated colors and shadows.

Pop Art or not?

In fact, Thiebaud says he was drawn to these objects precisely because they were commercially made, as if they were off the production line. But pastry objects were not his first ambition. He began drawing when in his teens. At the time he largely drew cartoons and illustrations. He also made posters for theaters, was taken on as an apprentice at Disney Studios and In 1942 he enlisted in the U.S. Air Force where he worked as an artist in the special services unit.

After the war, he was employed to paint images for signs as well as to create a special design for license plates that were used by the State of California to raise extra revenue. The style adopted by Thiebaud in the 1940s resembled abstract expressionism, illustrated by the extremely large mural he made for the Sacramento Municipal Utilities Distribution Building (250 feet long and 15 feet high). The mural drew attention precisely because of its similarity to a work of abstract expressionism. Meanwhile, in his mid-20s Thiebaud travelled to New York where he obtained work as a free-lance cartoonist.

Upon returning to California one year later he enrolled in San Jose State College and subsequently at the California State University at Davis in Sacramento, California where he remained as a teacher until 1991. He returned to New York some ten years later in 1956 where he became friends or acquaintances with some of the great exponents of abstract expressionism such as Willem de Kooning, Fritz Kline, Rauschburg and Jasper Johns.

At an exhibition held by the Allen Stone Gallery in New York, he also had the opportunity to join what is now known as the Pop Art group, including the Pop Art artist of great repute, Andy Warhol. As a result of Thiebaud’s participation in this exhibition he was, at first, identified as a member of the Pop Art school of art. This, however, was not the case. What was Thiebaud’s opinion on the dominant abstract expressionism as exemplified by De Kooning and Pollock? According to a quotation from Thiebaud in an article by Ian Parker in The New Yorker: ‘ I’d been painting like De Kooning and Pollock, and trying to make it look like art. You develop those convenient signs of art – the drip, or whatever those things use’.

Haloes

But why are pastry objects of such fascination to Thiebaud? In several interviews Thiebaud tells of his experience growing up in Long Beach, California. He used to stop in front of a pastry shop while walking near home and gaze at the delicious-looking cakes, donuts and pies. Moreover, aside from this inspiration, Thiebaud became more interested not so much in these objects as such but rather in how he could portray them on a canvas. Through experimentation, he discovered that by providing the objects with an external halo of paint the relationship of the different paints would actually seem to vibrate.

Thiebaud applied the paint in such a way that the texture actually resembles thick cream, smooth frosting and streaks of mustard. His own term for this is ‘object transference’. He has no cakes or pastry in his studio and paints them from imagination and memory.

But what did Thiebaud believe was his true style? In a quotation from an article in another New Yorker article this time by Rose Glaser Friedrick, Thiebaud says: ‘ I’m just essentially a traditional painter, and by that I mean, always interested in imagery, trying to make a representational painting that has as much abstraction as seems to fit that particular mode of representation’.

In a further definition of what Thiebaud believed he was doing, he told Martin Gaylord in the Apollo Magazine: ‘ I don’t have much to do with realism; there’s a big difference between realism and representation’. Taking a note from Willem de Kooning who described the style of Thiebaud from Thiebaud’s perspective: ‘I’ve got a wolf’s brush that makes terrific lines. That’s what you use, it all comes out of these’.

A sense of immediacy

We can better understand the purpose of Thiebaud’s halogens outlining his paintings by reviewing his figurative works for they, too, are activated, so to speak, by the application of lines of paint which give the work a sense of vibration and energy. Take, for instance, his portrait Robed Woman with Letter. The letter on the table top in front of the woman is ringed with a line of yellow paint. We know this is done in black on the occasion of death notices, but here it gives a sense of liveliness.

Moreover, even though the portrait is done straight on and the woman’s expression seems to be without a strong emotion, one has the feeling there is something personal going on here. But what is it? We feel her presence. Why are her arms straight down where you would expect them leaning on the table? Has the letter already been opened or not yet? The halogens around the letter and the table seem to give it all a sense of immediacy. Both people and objects seem to stick out against their backgrounds, thus almost coming alive. It is almost like poetry where unusual word combinations and metaphors stir images in its readers.

Here, observing Thiebaud’s work, we sense a certain rhythm in Thiebaud’s paintings, an atmosphere, a whole world behind them. We are aware that something must have happened just before we approached the scene, which makes us almost like priers. It is as if we were not supposed to be here. Yet, we stare and gaze.

Why are the two women and three men in Five Seated Figures (1965) in a circle without looking at one another? Two chairs are turned around completely. The whole group is wearing festive clothing, matching shoes, all shiny, and their hairdos look immaculate. But where is the party? Where are the drinks, the chatter, the laughter?

They are sitting stiffly on straight chairs with straight faces, hands resting in the lap and one man with his arms crossed. Are they angry? Something must have transpired and apparently it is something they cannot share. We happen to stumble upon them and what to do now? How long are they going to maintain their position? Obviously forever, but they seem so real that we are drawn into their lonely circle, at the same time feeling we should actually sneak away, apologizing for intruding.

Five Seated Figures

The same holds good for the almost life-size Standing Man (1964) who is dressed in a poor suit, at least two sizes too large and with two buttons, but only one button-hole. The shabby suit has been ironed, though, because there are no creases and the pants are neatly pleated. His skinny neck sticks out, his head is slightly tilted. He looks forlorn and uncomfortable with his hands dangling along his body. He is standing against a beige wall and on a beige floor, separated by a yellowish line.

His polished shoes, like the suit, are so large that you suspect the whole outfit has been lent to him. Apparently he needs it for a serious occasion. We want to know what is going on. We want to reach out instead of gawking at him and adding to his discomfort. This is the thing: the people in the paintings look alive, not only because of the colors, their shadows, the lines in the background, but also because we seem to catch them in the middle of a personal story.

The Girl with Ice Cream Cone (1963), as usual Thiebaud’s wife, in her bathing suit looks at us. She looks sexy, no doubt about that. At the same time she looks as if we are in her way as she was just enjoying her ice cream. We have entered this part of the beach that was hers just a moment ago. Her bathing suit, in a way, reinforces our sense of trespassing, for there are trees and hills on it, also between her legs which are slightly apart. Again, what is happening here? This is a painting and we can have a close look if we want to. It is in the museum for us. Yet, we almost feel as if we are imposing upon her.

Some people in the paintings make us laugh, for instance two men and a woman on the beach, faces down. Their position cannot be comfortable. They are wearing colorful bathing stuff, which suggest this is fun, but where are the towels? Are their faces in the sand? The people are grouped like the pies, ice creams, the hot dogs. Five Hot Dogs (1961) is even on the same wall, looking quite unappetizing with the mustard oozing out. Involuntarily, you compare these works and chuckle.

 

A swaying street

When moving from the pastry and figurative still lifes to the cityscapes, the third category of Thiebaud’s work, we move back again to a form of abstract expressionism or even to a kind of realistic surrealism. Although we know these paintings depict a scene in San Francisco or an outlying area about the city, the resemblance on the basis of representational style is far-fetched. The street, for example, directly in the center of his Intersection Buildings (2000 – 2014) appears to be moving up just as if it were a bridge which has been raised as if to let ships go by. The strong colors, too, make the street almost sway.

The exhibition is the first Thiebaud retrospective in Europe and thanks must go to the work and passion of director Suzanne Swarts for enabling us to see this very unusual and fascinating artist, who – in his 90s – is still working and playing tennis. Vibrant in person, vibrant in his paintings.

 

Romy’s Hair Salon (Kapsalon Romy)

October 2, 2019 by Veronica Verbeek in Films

Pain and comfort

Romy’s grandmother Stine (Beppie Melissen, striking as ever) is a hairdresser with her own salon. When her daughter Margot (Noortje Herlaar), after her divorce, asks her to babysit Romy (Vita Heijmen), she is certainly not thrilled. Nor is Romy, but gradually they become closer. Granny is showing the first signs of Alzheimer’s and Romy helps her out when she gets muddled up when returning cash or struggling with an I-pad.

Not many words are used to show a world of frustration and sorrow. Subtle hints like a light gesture, a remark or just a look show how relationships are at the moment, not only between Romy’s parents (salient roles by Noortje Herlaar and Guido Pollemans), but also between Romy’s grandmother and mother.

Romy, a strong and friendly 10-year-old, manages to find her own ways of coping. She realizes that she is needed. Where are granny’s earrings, what has happened to her immaculate hairdo and her fashionable outfits? Why cannot she count the money from the till anymore? Stine is gradually getting sloppier, both physically and mentally. Her harsh attitude has gone and she is happily planning on Romy’s future in the hair salon. Her snappy remarks have made place for mildness, something her own daughter must have missed. While leaning on the sink, Margot’s one glance at her mother seems to say it all.

Stine’s face lights up, when showing her late husband’s picture to Romy. Years ago, he had taken her from Denmark to Holland. Remembering her home country, some Danish words and sentences slip through. However, there is no trace of a Danish accent in Stine’s Dutch. Although Danish and Dutch are both Germanic languages (Danish is a North Germanic and Dutch a West Germanic language in the Indo-European language family), this does not seem plausible. Of the small grammatical mistake Stine makes (‘die ding’ instead of ‘dat ding’) it is not clear whether this was intentional or not.

Romy wants to make granny happy and decides to fulfill her dream. This gets everybody into trouble and we see the characters with their assets and sensitivities in full bloom, but again without any sentimentality or exaggeration. It is easy to identify with all of them. Their pain and worries, their awkwardness and clumsiness illicit our smiles, chuckles and lumps in the throat.

In the end, the whole event of carrying out Stine’s wish brings everybody closer. They look lighter and softer. The Danish scenery, so wide, so amazing and green, seems to reinforce a sense of relief. In spite of the Alzheimer’s Disease, gradually transforming Stine, this is an uplifting and soothing film for young and old.

year: 2019
genre: family, comedy, drama
length: 92 min.
country: the Netherlands
language: Dutch
adaptation of the book Kapsalon Romy by Tamara Bos
scriptwriter: Tamara Bos
director: Mischa Kamp
cast: Vita Heijmen, Beppie Melissen, Noortje Herlaar, Bianca Krijgsman, Guido Pollemans, Aus Greidanus sr.
producer: Bos Bros
distributor: Cinemien

Awards:

best International Literary Adaptation for Children or Young Adults Frankfurter Buchmesse Film Awards, 2018

BFF Children’s Film Award Kristians and International Children’s Film Festival 2019

best Film by the Professional Jury & Best Film by the Children’s Jury Tel Aviv International Children’s Film Festival 2019

special Award – Gragnano Consortium Award (Elements 10+) Giffoni Film Festival 2019

Busan International Kids and Youth Film Festival Busan, South-Korea (July 9 – 15, 2019)

Tel Aviv International Children’s Film Festival Tel Aviv, Israel (July 16 – 20, 2019)

Giffoni Film Festival Giffoni, Italy (July 19-27, 2019)

Tromsø International Film Festival Tromsø, Norway (September 4-9, 2019)

Warsaw Kids Film Festival Warsaw, Poland (September 21-29, 2019)

Buster Film Festival Copenhagen, Denmark (September 23 – October 6, 2019)

Netherlands Film Festival Utrecht, The Netherlands (September 26 – October 4, 2019)

Schlingel International Film Festival Chemnitz, Germany (October 7 – 13, 2019)

Vienna International Children’s and Youth Film Festival Vienna, Austria (16-24 November, 2019)

The Heiresses (Las Herederas)

October 2, 2019 by Veronica Verbeek in Films

Prisons in Paraguay

Martinessi’s debut Las Herederas shows a lesbian couple against the background of Paraguay and its dark history of dictatorship (1954 – 1989). Chela (Ana Brun, a pseudonym because of her lesbian role) and Chiquita (Margarita Irun) have been together for more than thirty years and are both from rich families in Asunción, Paraguay. For his film, Martinessi wanted women that could move and interact naturally. Ana Brun, who is actually a lawyer in daily life, and Ana Ivanova had little acting experience, and were open to something new. They appear to be natural talents.

Chela and Chiquita have been leading an easy life, each of them more or less fixed within their own patterns. This all comes to an end when they get into financial trouble. We see other wealthy women trotting through their house, clicking their polished nails against the crystal glasses and assessing the furniture that is now all for sale.

Chiquita goes to jail and settles in placidly, chatting and laughing in the yard full of equally loud fellow-prisoners. The shy and passive Chela visits her and is clearly uncomfortable in this world, formerly unknown to her.

Their old neighbour, Pituca, asks Chela to be her driver when she goes to her weekly card game. Chela, who used to be at home, binge-watching TV-series while Chiquita and their housekeeper were taking care of her, accepts and gradually gets more confident. After a while, she meets other women who also need a driver. One of them is the sensual Angy (Ana Ivanova) who starts flirting with Chela. This acts as a wake-up call for Chela. Her dull eyes get a sparkle and she starts paying attention to her outfits and her make-up. Angy tells her that sunglasses make her look more glamorous and here she is: with new sunglasses and all.

However, the work as a driver does lower Chela’s social status. We see her waiting in hallways with half-open doors to rooms with old ladies with chic dresses and jingling bracelets, playing games in their stifling houses. Chela is not with them at their tables as in the past. The muffled gossiping and chitchatting reinforce the whole sense of her not belonging to their world anymore. The conversations in the film are based on those of the film director’s (Marcelo Martinessi) mother and aunts when he was growing up. He did not always live in Paraguay, which has widened his view. He can take some distance from it all, although his country still feels like a prison to him. The whole film seems to breathe this suffocating atmosphere. Before 1989, it was hardly possible to make films in Paraguay and even today film directors usually have to lean on financial support from abroad.

Class distinctions, the background of a still tangible dictatorship, sex, secrets behind closed doors: this is all interwoven and expressed in subtle looks and dialogues. When, at the end of the film, Chiquita is about to be released, having served most of her prison term, Chela finds herself at a crossroads in her life. Will she escape from her own personal prison?

film director: Marcelo Martinessi
language: Spanish, Guarani
runtime: 98 minutes
cast: Ana Brun, Margarita Irún, Ana Ivanova, Alicia Guerra, Nilda Gonzalez, María Martins.
production: La BaBosa Cine
genre: drama
distributor: Contactfilm
Bauer prize & Fipresci Prize, Berlinale 2018
Jury award in Competition World Cinema Amsterdam
36 awards and 35 nominations
Ana Brun: best actress, Film Festival Zilveren Beer
Prix Fipresci & Alfred Bauer Prize, Berlinale 2018

Pet Sematary

October 2, 2019 by Veronica Verbeek in Films

Apparitions and racing trucks

Dr. Louis Creed (Jason Clarke) is a mild-mannered physician in Boston who loves his wife Rachel (Amy Seimetz) and their two children Ellie (Jete Laurence) and Gage (twins Hugo and John Lithgow).  Both Louis and Rachel have had enough of their busy life in Boston and have decided to move to the country.  The film opens with the family plus lovable pussy cat Church traveling by car to their new home in Ludlow, Maine.  The doctor wishes to spend more time with his children, while Rachel is tormented by guilt as she still feels responsible for the untimely death of her sister some years back.  She hopes a more relaxed life style in the country will help her come to grips with this part of her past.

The first ominous sign something is amiss in their new locality appears when Louis fails to save the life of Victor Pascow (Obssa Abmed). While recovering from this tragedy he is confronted by an apparition, Victor’s body, bloody face and all, that suddenly sits straight up as if alive.  On second glance the apparition is gone.  The apparition reappears throughout the film with timely advice for Louis.

The next event occurs when Rachel and Ellie are exploring the woods behind their home. They come upon a procession of young people wearing face masks of the dead animals they are carrying. The young people are proceeding to the Pet Sematary where the animals will be buried.  Rachel and Ellie are very cautious, even suspicious, in the first instance when walking through the woods. The encounter with the procession strengthens their feeling something very odd is happening.

As if encouraged by the scene, Ellie later decides to discover for herself what is going on.  She comes upon the animal cemetery, but a barricade consisting of branches and limbs from trees prevents her from going further.  She, nevertheless, being the curious girl she is, begins to climb over the barricade, but is startled when an elderly man, who later appears to be their neighbour Jud Crandall (John Lithgow), shouts at her not to go any further causing her to fall and injure herself. He treats her injury in a kindly way and they become friends.

A further and even more ominous signal, accompanied by music appropriate to a horror movie, is the fact that huge tank trucks suddenly race over the country road along their house. The audience actually gasped upon hearing the horrific sound made by a passing truck.

In the meantime, Church, the family cat, goes missing. Louis, after assuring Ellie and Gage that the cat will eventually turn up, discovers its bloody remains when taking a walk along the country road. Church, it is assumed, was killed by one of the passing trucks. The death and burial of Church by the grieving Louis thus becomes the key to understanding the rest of the film. Jud tells Louis he knows where to bury Church. At first it would be in the Pet Sematary, but Jud, realizing the grief of Louis, decides to bury the cat in the Indian burial ground which lay on the other side of the barricade. He assures Louis the burial in this place will guarantee the return of Church to life.

The effects of the creaking woodwork in the country house, the foggy woods and the magical return of the deceased are reinforced by Christopher Young’s music. So do the immediate close-ups of the actors by the cinematography of Laurie Rose.

The return from the dead, whether beast or man, stretches the imagination. There is also some comic relief in the film, which does make it all rather innocent. Church the cat, for instance, is sometimes absurdly funny in his frightful meanness, but Pet Sematary certainly provides a good dose of impending disaster.

film: Pet Sematary
year: 2019
second adaptation of the 1983 novel of the same name by Stephen King
directors:  Kevin Kölsch & Dennis Widmeyer
screen script: by Jeff Buhler, from screen story Matt Greenberg (1989)
camera:  Laurie Rose
editor:  Sarah Broshar
genre: supernatural horror
production Company di Banavontura Pictures
producers:  Lorenzo di Bonventura, Stephen Schneider & Mark Vahradien
executive Producer:  Mark Moran
cast:  Jason Clarke as Louis, Amy Seimetz as Rachel, John Lithgow as Jud, and Hugo and Lucas Lavoie as Gage
music score:  Christopher Young
runtime:  101 minutes
distributor:  Paramount – In Holland Universal Pictures International

 

Free Solo

October 2, 2019 by Veronica Verbeek in Films

Al Capitan: an impossible rock-climber’s challenge?

In the documentary Free Solo we see 31-year-old Alex Honnold, a skillful rock climber who has decided to ascend the sheer 3,000-foot cliff of El Capitan in California’s Yosemite National Park.  This seems hard enough as it is, but he is going to push the limits even more by leaving his safety gear at home. He is going to climb without any rope or other device. He is followed on his pursuit by mountaineers and film directors E. Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin, the latter of whom also climbed the Meru in the Himalayas in 2015. While suffering from frostbite and trench feet, he kept filming this climb.

Honnold seems like an ordinary nice guy in an ordinary red t-shirt. He has been living in his van for nine years where he does his pull-ups in the morning. His training sessions in a climbing gym in Sacramento take hours every day. He also trains on the cliff itself while being attached to ropes. In this way, he explores every nook and cranny of the massive granite and notes down its narrow cracks and ledges, rehearsing and memorising them.

Tension increases. The big day for Honnold’s free solo is approaching. Then, after less than an hour, he realizes he has to give up. Circumstances were not right, he would say later. It was best for him to descend. And practise again. Until 3 June 2017. The film crew’s stress is tangible. Ditto here in the cinema. We are on the edge of our seats watching Alex. We are all aware of the fact that the slightest disturbance could be fatal.  How to film Honnold without making a sound or a distracting move? Of course, they have discussed every detail in advance, but there is no such thing as complete control.

Girlfriend

How is his girlfriend Sanni McCandless taking all this? She ‘makes life better’, he says. She is ‘cute and small’ and – conveniently – ‘does not take up much space in the van’. However, he will always choose mountain climbing over her, he remarks.  Love is not always good for his ‘mental armour’.

‘Climbing makes death more immediate and present’, he explains, and this is why he needs 100% focus. Sanni calls her boyfriend ‘brutally honest’ and on Instagram she writes: ‘When I first started dating Alex, people would ask me about death. They wanted to know how I felt about his profession and the risk involved in soloing. But I wasn’t wondering if he would die; I was wondering if we even liked each other. Instead of deep contemplations on risk and consequence, I felt an intense curiosity to learn more about relationships.’ Yet, we also see – and share – her struggle between encouraging him on his mission and at the same time wishing him not to tempt fate.

Why?

Why try such a thing at all? Is Honnold a thrill seeker? Has he got some sort of disorder? An MRI test illustrates that there is no activation in his amygdale, the part in the brain that processes pleasure, fear and anger. Honnold dryly remarks: ‘With free-soloing, obviously I know that I’m in danger, but feeling fearful while I’m up there is not helping me in any way.’ He just sets it aside.

The cameraman at the foot of the mountain cannot handle the pressure anymore. While he is muttering to himself and drying his tears, we see Alex dangling by his fingertips on a thin edge at, say, 2,000 feet. We cannot help thinking of his girlfriend and his mother. His fingers, arms, toes, his whole body must be strong and flexible in a way we cannot even imagine. His endurance, but also his calculation of the cliff, weather conditions, and his own skills is beyond us. How can he be so calm and analytical?

Will he maintain all these skills when alone on the majestic El Capitan? Awestruck, we gasp, close and open our eyes, fumble for a handkerchief and then, at the end, we slowly lean back in our seats, releasing a long-drawn sigh.

directors: Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi & Jimmy Chin
year: 2018
runtime: 97min
country: USA
language: English
genre: documentary
cast: Alex Honnold, Jimmy Chin, Tommy Caldwell, Cheyne Lempe, Mikey Schaefer, Sanni McCandless, Dierdre Wolownick, Peter Croft

1 Oscar, 29 wins and 47 nominations

Old DND’s

October 2, 2019 by Veronica Verbeek in DND Revisited

Old DNDs, 1995 and 2004

Professor Bart Tromp Flies Red Herring Argument in Defense of the Establishment

October 2, 2019 by Veronica Verbeek in DND Revisited, Weitzel & company

7 January 2004

Professor Bart Tromp of Political Science at Leiden University and editor of the Yearbook for Democratic Socialism is a declared enemy of any change in the electoral system of the Netherlands which would in any way result in the direct election of mayors, the prime minister and both houses of Parliament, the Tweede Kamer (Lower Chamber) and the Senate. 

He would prefer to keep the system as it is, but if is to be changed or renewed, the change must not affect the electoral system of proportional representation and the political party system which this electoral system sustains.

What Professor Tromp most fears is the election of someone, such as, for example, the late Pim Fortuyn, to public office who does not belong to one of the existing parties and whose election would, in effect bypass existing parties. The professor makes a distinction then between ‘representative democracy’ and ‘plebiscite democracy’. The clearest example of a plebiscite was the one in France in 1804, which made Napoleon emperor.

This is not an election in any sense of the word.  When holding a plebiscite, an issue is put to the people. They must decide yes or no. There is no need for political parties. The people in the referendum are not being asked to make a choice between this or that politician.  It is an instrument used by an existing ruler or government to confirm or reject a certain proposition, e.g. should Napoleon become emperor or not?

The reference, then, by Professor Tromp to ‘plebiscite democracy’ is an attempt to obfuscate the issue, and the issue is the answer to the question what is wrong with the existing political system in the Netherlands. The answer to this question is relatively simple. There are many who are shut out of politics by the existing political structure. One such case is the late Pim Fortuyn and his followers.

What is there about the existing political structure which shuts out participation in the Dutch democratic process? We are told that the ‘essential problem’, with reference to the last two elections for the Second Chamber, is that Democrats’66 failed to take an ‘ideological’ stand on the issues leading up to the election. This enabled the party to decide on the basis of the outcome of the election which combination coalition would be most beneficial for its constituency.