Stephanie Hudson

Buy portrait. She literally looks like a princess. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it. -George Santayana. | Scout Tafoya December 13, 2019 Wang Xiaoshuai ’s latest movie works so splendidly on its own self-contained and easily divined terms you could watch it without knowing anything about the Shanghai-born director and still walk out stunned. Of course, the payoff of this work is all the richer if you know the course the director took from studio misfit beleaguered by distribution and self-esteem problems to well-liked and promising director of "Beijing Bicycle"?the kind of neo-Neo-realism international film festivals still love?to wave-riding miserablist director of scoring studies of casualties of China’s cultural revolution. He leaned more heavily on a depressive longing and woozy inevitability than did, say Jia Zhangke, to name one of the better known directors from the period known as China’s Sixth Generation. Life haunts the characters in his movies, who only realize what they’ve had to live with when looking back at who they were. His characters watch from the outside as tides wash over their existences, precious things are stolen, glories forgotten, potentials smothered. His two latest seem to share nothing but Wang’s sharp eye and melancholy form, but they’re instructive about the kind of cinema with which he’s wrestled all his life. Advertisement Wang’s latest is the gargantuan Golden Bear-winning family drama "So Long, My Son, "?which follows two families for 30 years, charting the aftermath of the cultural revolution and the period in which Wang began making his own art. "Chinese Portrait" is like the minimalist B-side to that monumental work and it’s disarmingly simple in its methodology, one suspects because to film people simply, one?must have been quite the reprieve for the dogged social realist. To spill the blood and mine the tears of forgotten men in a country grey with industry, where no life matters beyond the labor it can provide, is a burden even as it gives an artist the world. "Chinese Portrait" spends time with the real people his movies were based on in the places they’re rarely seen. He pulls out the incident and characters that color his cinema and places them back in the context from which he plucked them, deconstructing his world like he were spreading the parts of a car on a garage floor. "Chinese Portrait" is comprised of about 60 non-fiction vignettes. In many of them there are groups of people who remain stationary and some who look directly to camera, letting the audience know that the scene isn’t exactly purely objective. In other words Wang had to pose them, at least to an extent. The business that goes on around the lone "subjects" still feels spontaneous, like he had an agreement with just a couple of people and assured the rest of the people in frame that they could ignore the camera. Some of them do feel like traditional portraits brought to life, like the group of children standing with their minder in front of a remote village, neither moving nor smiling, as if waiting for a single picture to be taken. They’re all rewarding, in compositional terms, as the errant components flutter past the steadiness of his fixed figures and the somber backdrops. Critic Michael Sicinski has already pointed out Wang’s debt to documentarians James Benning, Peter Hutton and Nikolaus Geyrhalter, building on his pronounced affection for Andrei Tarkovsky to an anxious study of momentum and stasis as the essential tension of the people he’s filming. The new reference points help him suggest in blocking and framing what it costs us to stop being productive. In essence it’s the refusal of the action around the people staring at the camera that is the one constant. Everything else changes, from the cameras he uses to the year (it was shot over a decade). Even the most desolate of villages and workplaces display progress, whether in the form of men tending great yawning furnaces in factories or men dotting the corners of the frame like ants going about their business. One of the few compositions with no active participants shows people walking in the bottom third of the screen on a muddy path. Behind them in the middle third are old cars, a crumbling series of houses, and an excavator digging up the earth to make room for new developments, represented by the stark and unappealing apartment complexes in the top third. The film can, in just a few seconds, tell you everything you need to know about the China Wang sees; a mud-slicked construction site where promise is perpetual and no one ever just gets to live. This documentary?is in many ways a self-portrait as well as a look outward. Wang himself appears on camera a few times, including on a train looking at the camera, a cigarette in his hand, his homeland flying by out the open window behind him. His movies have always been about the way progress and constant "revolution" makes his characters feel small and out of place. Here he shows himself in their stead, trying to pay tribute to the place and the people who, like him, are dwarfed by the towering currents and endless drive. Even when he sets foot outside the populous towns and cities and finds horses in a field, they’re biting each other’s fur in a funny embrace, scratching an itch they can’t get to. The few minutes Wang captured are of people ignoring the motion all around them seem radical in the face of the dehumanizing effect of progress, the bane of his cinema’s existence. Staring at a camera, confronting us in the audience, asking us wonder what if anything is normal about life in a modern civilization constantly dredging up and rebuilding itself. Where does the self fit into the endless momentum? Wang asks us to construct the inner lives of the students staring at us while their classmates do their work, the men stitching fishing nets on the dock, the man in the hardhat with his back to the construction vehicle making more buildings to accommodate more people. As Wang’s China grows past predictions about its growth and government, as each corner of the country becomes impossible to film without the drapery of moving bodies and their shadows, what becomes of everyone’s identity? My personal favorite of all of the many compositions here is the first, in which nine men in drab uniforms and miners’ helmets lean and crouch around a length of track bisecting the frame. Some of their faces are hard to make out thanks to the shadow of the mine itself or because they’re a little too far from the camera, but the way they stand is telling about their outlooks, the way they’re used to their jobs. Suddenly a length of cable starts moving and it becomes clear they’re watching as something is being pulled up from the mine out into the light. There’s no little suspense generated by the anticipation. What’s coming up from inside the earth? Probably nothing exciting, but the speed increases and these men just stand there watching. Just when it feels like the payload has to enter the frame, there’s a few small light leaks in the film and then it cuts. The reward for their efforts is unknowable to us, and suddenly their nonchalant stances seem political. Their rewards for their efforts are unknown to them, too, as this work will manifest nothing else but more work. "Chinese Portrait" is a stunning work of photography and a simple work of empathy that asks, "How much goes into making sure we all get to just live? " The world, our lives, will get away from us, this is almost certain. Stopping and simply staring at your surroundings, dreaming the interior lives of the people we pass, imagining the hard labor that went into sculpting every place we stand, it may seem like a small thing. But today it’s one of the only things that seems truly revolutionary. Reveal Comments comments powered by.
Kohler portrait. Chinese portrait of a woman in shadow. Played it to a deck of cards, now the're hearthstone. Everyones gangsta till Omar starts coughing. Is there anywhere I can find the way russians in general mount their paper like canvas? And what kind of paper is he using? The crayon/sepia seems to slide through it very seamlessly, almost as if using a greasy crayon on a lithographic stone. I was like, the picture on his left, why does he keep tilting right. UNTIL i realized it was different source looool. Chinese portrait.
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Critics Consensus No consensus yet. 90% TOMATOMETER Total Count: 10 Coming soon Release date: Dec 13, 2019 Audience Score Ratings: Not yet available Chinese Portrait Ratings & Reviews Explanation Tickets & Showtimes The movie doesn't seem to be playing near you. Go back Enter your location to see showtimes near you. Chinese Portrait Photos Movie Info From acclaimed director Wang Xiaoshuai (BEIJING BICYCLE; SO LONG, MY SON) comes a personal snapshot of contemporary China in all its diversity. Shot over the course of ten years on both film and video, the film consists of a series of carefully composed tableaus of people and environments, each one more extraordinary than the last. Pedestrians shuffle across a bustling Beijing street, steelworkers linger outside a deserted factory, tourists laugh and scamper across a crowded beach, worshipers kneel to pray in a remote village. With a painterly eye for composition, Wang captures China as he sees it, calling to a temporary halt a land in a constant state of change. Rating: NR Genre: Directed By: In Theaters: Dec 13, 2019 limited Runtime: 79 minutes Studio: The Cinema Guild Cast Critic Reviews for Chinese Portrait Audience Reviews for Chinese Portrait Chinese Portrait Quotes Movie & TV guides.
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Portrait blankets. 8: le Rock. je kifffffffff trooooop. Imagine being in a gallery featuring photographs of regular, working class people. Some gaze intently at the camera as others appear unaware of being watched. Suddenly, an image moves. A gust of wind tousles someone’s hair or clothing, someone blinks or suppresses a smile, and you are outed as a voyeur. That is exactly the experience of watching celebrated filmmaker Wang Xiaoshuai’s documentary “Chinese Portrait, ” a series of fixed-camera tableaux shot on film and video over eight years throughout his homeland. We tend to regard China’s population of 1. 4 billion as either an economic behemoth whose cheap means of production fuels the voracious consuming habits of westerners or an existential threat wielding future-tech authoritarianism. The people, even in their multitudes, are often an afterthought. Wang ( “Beijing Bicycle”), however, foregrounds his subjects, composing in master shots and placing them against backdrops that are sometimes soothing but often bleak. As his camera peers out of the opening of a mine, takes in endless farmland, the gritty exterior of a factory or the interior of a train, we are greeted by groups of workers, families and travelers. There is no narrative or context provided, but the long takes and static camera allow us to choose where to look and, slowly, individuals emerge, defined by stoicism, a tiny gesture or a furtive glance at someone else in the frame. Little happens, but as the camera lingers for minutes at a time, the people become fascinating. There’s also something unsettling about that two-way mirror effect. Like locking eyes with a stranger for a little too long, something passes between viewer and subject. You remind yourself that in this case it is a cinematic illusion, but no less profound. Filmmaker Wang Xiaoshuai in his documentary “Chinese Portrait. ” (Cinema Guild) What little dialogue there is goes unsubtitled, which strangely makes the people on screen even more interesting. Wang makes great use of near-silence, relying on natural sound to accompany his images; no score, just the sounds of machinery, radios, loudspeakers, a singer and the wind to do the aural work in various settings. Wang himself appears from time to time as a Waldo-like presence, if only to remind us that he actually visited these places and that there was someone who decided when to start and stop the camera. Reflected in its native language title (“My Lens”), “Chinese Portrait” is a personal reflection on the country’s past and present. Brimming with humanity, Wang’s contemplative, minimalist approach forces us to consider the day-to-day lives of these people, and perhaps our own. ‘Chinese Portrait’ Not rated Running time: 1 hour, 19 minutes Playing: Starts Dec. 20, Lumiere Music Hall, Beverly Hills.
Chinese portrait artist. Trailer music: Symphony No. 3 (Symphony of Sorrowful Songs) III. Lento - cantabile Semplice. Portrait ornaments. Self portrait guipure lace. At 5:53 when you asked how old was he, it quickly said then later on, it said gotcha... Chinese portrait social. Anything that moves in China Chinese: I will eat. Chinese portraits women 40's. Courtesy of Cinema Guild NEW RELEASE Chinese Portrait December 13?22, 2019 From acclaimed director Wang Xiaoshuai ( Beijing Bicycle; So Long, My So n) comes a personal snapshot of contemporary China in all its diversity. Shot over the course of ten years on both film and video, the film showcases carefully composed tableaus of people and environments, each one more extraordinary than the last. Pedestrians shuffle across a bustling Beijing street, steelworkers linger outside a deserted factory, tourists laugh and scamper across a crowded beach, worshippers kneel to pray in a remote village. With a painterly eye for composition, Wang captures China as he sees it, stealing moments of reflection from a society in a constant state of change. A Cinema Guild release. View trailer. Please note: The 5:00 p. m. screening on Friday, December 13 is free for Individual-level Members and above. All other New Release screenings are discounted for Members ($7 / free for patron members). New Release Chinese Portrait Friday, December 13, 5:00 p. Museum of the Moving Image - Bartos Screening Room Friday, December 13, 7:30 p. Museum of the Moving Image - Bartos Screening Room Saturday, December 14, 4:00 p. Museum of the Moving Image - Bartos Screening Room Saturday, December 14, 6:30 p. Museum of the Moving Image - Bartos Screening Room Sunday, December 15, 4:00 p. Museum of the Moving Image - Bartos Screening Room Sunday, December 15, 6:30 p. Museum of the Moving Image - Bartos Screening Room Wednesday, December 18, 3:00 p. Museum of the Moving Image - Bartos Screening Room Thursday, December 19, 3:00 p. Museum of the Moving Image - Bartos Screening Room Friday, December 20, 5:00 p. Museum of the Moving Image - Bartos Screening Room Saturday, December 21, 4:00 p. Museum of the Moving Image - Bartos Screening Room Sunday, December 22, 4:00 p. Museum of the Moving Image - Bartos Screening Room.

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