Jia Lin’s Weblog

Air America is on air

Glad I’m in LA, one of the only four cities can receive it. But you can always listen to it on line. The first liberal talk radio ever, it reminds me how wonderful this country is, not only for the existence of liberal voice, but more importantly, the tolerance for such an existence.

Speaking of that, I think it is the time I talk about radio. I used to be an avid radio listener in college, where no television or “interesting” newspaper were available. I walked with and sleep with radio on. At our time, we considered VOA and BBC our channel to truth. Since I came to this country, I waged a long battle with language obstacle. I picked up television since it is really a great tool for studying English. One night, David Letterman show suddenly made some sense to me, and CNN suddenly sounds like talking in my language. I thought it was time to resume my radio listening. Now I woke up with NPR every morning, driving and walking with NPR, while TV news became more and more unbearable to me, especially after September 11. Propaganda and exclusive focus on US news is one reason, the commercial operation is really what turns me off. This morning, I woke up hearing NPR reporting the death of five US soldiers and four contractors in Iraq, and cheering Iraqis hanged some of the bodies on bridge. When I came back home at noon the coverage and comment was still continuing in radio. But when I turned on TV, surprisingly all news channels, from CNN to NBC to FOX were broadcasting live the police search of a suburb in Wisconsin and for one suspect that might abduct a college girl. I really don?t understand the significance of this news compared to the nine death in Iraq. The college girl (surely a white one) was found alive, the suspect might be armed with a gun, it happens in a marshy area? I don?t get it. Just like I don?t understand how Elisabeth Smart, Laci/Scott Peterson or Michael Jackson?s case could be a national sensation in all national news channels, do I forget to mention Janet Jackson?s breast? Is the howl of Howard Dean the only memorable moment of this man? Do news TV also try to turn themselves into Reality TV?… That’s the other thing I feel sorrow for this country, where people enjoy the privilege of free speech and access to truth, while they don?t cherish such endowment. Anyway, I?m glad I still have radio, actually a lot of radios-I have five at my one-bedroom apartment, not including our four computers where we can listen to Internet radio.

Nessun Dorma

We stayed up till four o�clock in the morning waiting for the result of TW election. I�m not a fanatic unification advocator, but I�m concerned about the consequence of the election to my hometown, where my parents and friends live and where might one day become a battle field or at least front, because of its proximity to Taiwan. Fujian, my hometown, for several decades after the revolution, had been strategically under-developed for its strategic position to Taiwan and for the possibility of military conflict. Every radical political move from the other side of TW Strait is followed by the scandal of tenser military practice in our backyards. No need to say, the re-election of President Chen will only intensify the situation.

We were nailed in front of our computers and kept our eyes on the ballot information updated every two minutes at Chinatime, where we could read the number of ballots from every city. Votes of the two parties were so close all the way that it struck me that the real divergence today is not between the Mainland and TW, but within the small island: green at south, and blue at Norht. Lian and Song, the two candidates of KMT who each won 30% of vote in last election (and lost the campaign to Chen because of the diversion of the votes), while this time forming an ally, can only attract 50% of the votes. Just IM with a friend, who is a political analyst in TW and who is a supporter of KMT; what bothers him most is not the fishy success of Chen, but how divided TW has become. Even KMT wins, how could they win the heart of the other 50% of voters at South, those aborigines (opposite to immigration from Mainland after defeat of KMt) who are, generally, less rich and less educated?

I had been wondering how Chen�s administration, in the past four years of economic slump, fussy political stunts and corruption scandal, pulled in even more votes than before. I could not help comparing this campaign to the one in the US. I guess people vote for whom they identify with, not those who would really do good. Chen, who dubs himself as the son of TW, talks in the dialect and advocate TW identity, and Bush, who presents himself with an all-American style, keeps his cowboy and God-believer identity, and feels proud of not being cultivated by elite education from Ivy League, are both very successful in campaign, especially considering their lame leadership in politics or economy.

Well, I�m a little off track, and I�ve forgoten my original intention when starting this blog (and I love blog, where discursion is not a sin). But there is another thing just comes into my mind. When Howard Dean lost his place as the Democratic front runner, I was amazed by how the country is divided: all my acquaintance who are in such vacations as professors, graduate students, writers and scientists are fervent supporter of Dean, and elite media had then introduced Dean as the indubitable Democratic candidates; But it turned out that this Dean sensation is only a phenomenon limited in a small potion of the people. The mentalities of intellectuals and general public diverged from each other to such a great degree that most of political predictions end up clueless. On that, we can’t avoid speculating on elite democracy, which, however, seems forfeit the essence of democracy.

Democracy is a wonderful thing, but it comes with the cost. Nonetheless, to be involved in democratic practice must be even more wonderful, than being just an outsider, like me, who can only observe others� democracy, from distance, with wishfulness.

Our artistic life in LA

�Now we are a decent couple,� Bin likes to say, �Because we tango�. If we could really master the essence of intimacy and desire in the steps, maybe he would find nothing in it to do with decency. Tango is what I always wanted to learn, largely because of my obsession with its music, which, to me, is a strange combination of refined wildness, down-to-earth dramatics and endless loneliness reeling inside. And when you dance to the beat of the sad melody woven by the cello and accordion, for one second or two you are losing your time, space and identity to those in glamorous drama. When we finished out 3-month lessons on five Argentina Tango and three American Tango steps, I said to myself: I will feel one less sorrow even I left the world tomorrow.

One of my old friends used to compare the life journey to a jigsaw puzzle game, and we construct the picture by filling tiny pieces one by one. In my jigsaw puzzle, I guess Tango is a big piece�also, watching Madam Butterfly in Opera house is certainly another one. The waiting, the yearning, the despair and the sheer unconditional love breaking forth from the story and the music have haunting me decades. Nonetheless, my first real encounter with Madam Butterfly is such an unconventional one, with Cio Cio San, along with everyone else moving like a robot on the empty stage. No kimono, no tatami. Every costume is made of a whole piece of cloth from something like aerospace fabric, with only white, grey and black color, absolutely simple style with no decoration or filigree whatsoever. The scene is made of only by lighting and single one post-modern designed chair (must be very uncomfortable to sit on); even the dagger that kills Cio Cio San at the end is an imaginary one. It feels that singers are objects instead of a presenter in the art. In many occasions when they are not singing, they have to maintain their body in absolute stationary gestures that are usually transitory. The idea is quite intriguing here; the actors on stage are like automatic mechanism, and are activated only by their moments of singing. The art director, I guess, is pursuing a pure form of music art, without the distraction of visual effects. And that leaves a lot of space for imagining; like when Cio cio San prepared the returning of Pinkerton, we know from her singing they she decorates her room with flower all over the place, this flower, that flower, so fresh, so fragrant�. We see no flower, we smell no flower, but the magical music planted the flower in the imaginary space in our mind; and later we imagine how the sacred and beautiful Madam Butterfly lying dead surrounded by so many flowers that she prepared for her eternal love. That is a power of simplicity. However, the simplification of the costume too much exposes the physical imperfectness of the actresses. Each of them is basically wrapped in a piece of cloth, with naked shoulders and arms. Sopranos have to be strong to sing in high pitch for three hours, which, to my understanding, makes a slim figure not preferable; and you don�t expect a 20-year old girl can sing this challenging part. But when the mid-aged soprano is singing shyly that �I�m only a little more than 15� followed by the choir �oh, she is still a child�, we can not but hope there are more cloth to cover her voluminous and hefty upper body from which our eyes have nowhere to escape.

Importance of context

I am an incurable magazine junkie. Not to mention the more than 10 subscriptions at our home, the fact that I read both Time and Newsweek has made the point. In each issue, the two news magazines each dedicates a page for collection of interesting quotes from people in newsl; sometimes they quote a same piece. last week, in Newsweek’s Perspectives page, you will read:

“The NEA is a terroist organization”. Education Sectretary Rod Raige, on the 2.7 million-member National Education Association, the country’s largest teachers union. He later apologized.

Do you get it? why Mr. Raige will refer to NEA as terrorist? you will find the answer in Time’s Notebook page:

“The NEA is a terrorist organization”. Rod Raige, Education Sectretary, to Governors at a private White house meeting in response to a question about the National Education Association’s opposition to Bush’s No Child Left Behind law. After criticism, he apologized for the “poor choice of words”.

Now we get it. you are either with us (president), or with them (terrorist). feels like yesterday.

movie (video/dvd) update

American Splender: God, how could this movie not win any major award (not even “Independent spirit”?) it is almost a flawless movie for me. It is most close to my vision of American life and the type of Americans I like and I want to know more. I like the idea of “everyday life is complex” the complexity rise from our struggle with the banality we created while not be able to change. But seeing through its banality and paleness and extracting its essence, and eventually loving it is a splendor thing. The moment I like: “I don’t mind, All American cities are the same depressing to me” Joyce replied to Harvey, when he asked her to move to Cleveland from Delaware, right after their first date.

Lost in translation: God, How could this movie win so many awards? (it doesn’t mean I don’t like it) I would have liked it better if it not generating so much hype… a vanilla latte for high-browed, bitter and sweet, a little reflection of moral universe. You don’t expect it was sold like coca cola, do you? And I don’t really appreciate so many stereotypes and condescending.

Swimming pool: a beautiful cinematography leading to no where.

Man on the train: Refined and reserved. tear in the smile. Music is so cool. I like the scene when the old living-in-small- town-poetry-teacher decided to confront a rogue in a restaurant so as to add some heroism to his pale life, the rouge started to recite a love poem with admiration-because he was the old man’s former student… really a sharp capture of small-town life.

Nowhere in Africa: A little choppy, but still beautiful and touching. any film made in Africa is beautiful. It is never easy to adapt a memoir to the big screen. Dramatic moment of life is not easy to fit well into the repetitive cycle of daily life. Isn’t it so?

Farinelli: splendor, stunning. Indulge yourself in the richness of pure opera art. I’ve never been so touched by Haydn. The movie reminds me of “farewell My concubine” at some points. It makes me think the value of biological man and art, when they could not coexistent, which should be kept?

Adaptation: … I know, I watch this film so very late, after another round of Oscar. But what confused me is the ending: is it an intentional mock of the screenwriter’s (by Cage) original ideal of “making a movie just about the flower”, or is it the moviemaker’s habitual conformity to Hollywood ending?