I went with a friend to attend the 4th International Silent Film Festival which opened at the Shangri-La earlier today, in the afternoon to be more specific. My MA class ended at around 5:00 PM and after getting my copy of the new article we were asked to translate as an assignment, about 45 minutes later, there I was inside the taped perimeters of Shang's ground floor, one hand holding a glass of white wine, the other holding a piece of succulent cream-tart-of-sorts courtesy of Cibo. (Unfortunately, I do not posses the sufficient amount of culture and breeding required to be able to identify that "tart" by name).
Oh and since I came straight from school and fresh from delivering the introduction portion of my report on the chapter "L'Investigation psychologique ou le culte de la sincérité", I had my HP Mini 311 inside its Tech Air baggie slung on on one shoulder. (There, I mentioned a netbook. I declare this post to be fit for this blog's reader's consumption)
On another shoulder I carried my, well, shoulder bag (my trusty old Liz Claiborne bag, that will forever contain a "payong") I'm not quite sure how I managed to sip wine, munch on the hors-d'œuvres, snap some quick pics with my ancient Casio digicam, and chat with my group all at the same time.
But moving on, it wasn't my first taste of silent films. To be exact, it wasn't my first time at the Silent Film Festival, and I mean this very International Silent Film Festival. And such is the reason why I feel compelled to write this post.
Thus taking cue from Venus Raj again - and my reason for implicating the beauty queen's name in this is valid, you'll see - I'd like to "make right a major mistake I made" while at the cocktail at the 4th International Silent Film Festival.
above is the ground floor on normal days
You see, I got introduced to a writer for an online magazine. She was covering the event and was interviewing people. In short, I got interviewed.
And it was precisely this little snippet of my being not a first-timer at this film fest that became my major mistake. Or to be strictly clear, it was a mistake made up of a couple of component mistakes.
- I thought that it was at last year's, 2009, Silent Film Fest that I first went - and that's what I said during the interview but actually, now that I've thought hard about it, it was in fact the 2nd International Silent Film Festival that I first attended! I skipped 2009 and did not even notice it.
- I thought the title of the film I watched then was "Calibria" - it was "Cabiria" actually.
And being the humain being that I am (wow, I just had the verb "to be" in 3 forms in that single construct! 2 in conjugated form and 1 in noun form), I'll defend myself by saying that it is not at all hard to get the details muddled up:
- It was the same venue - Shangri-La
- Same exact country whose film I watched - Italy
- Same exact people who invited me (or whom I asked to get myself invited :-P)
- Same exact musicians who performed live for the film's score (Caliph8)
It was really déjà vu.
Except of course, I enjoyed "Assunta Spina" way better than "Calibria".
Err, sorry, I meant "Cabiria".
On a more serious note though, I sincerely apologize to the kind and gentle Ms. Joyce (I didn't even manage to get her last name) for that major major confusion of details. I'd understand if she won't believe anymore that this really is not my first Silent Film Fest; I won't believe myself either after this mishap.
So there. I don't know if William Baldwin would be satisfied with this, but to the unfortunate writer who met me that night, please do not be afraid to continually trust my stated appreciation of the live music performance at the Silent Film Fest, both in the 2nd and now in the 4th. It was the music that saved me from boredom rooted self-destruction induced by Cabiria, the agonizingly long silent film.
1 comment:
"humain" should be "human". Must be a residue of my French.
And do I hear a certain someone scoffing at this? FYI, it was an honest mistake; my language mechanics did slip at that moment there.
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