#suabroad

last weekend, meghan and I visited the beautiful city of madrid. we almost missed our plane because the bus ride to gatwick took 2 hours, when it’s normally supposed to only take one. but we made it, thank god.

we stepped off the plane into such warmth it felt like when you travel from new york to florida in the middle of winter. i was so incredibly happy to feel warmth again. our airbnb was a shared apartment, and we had a queen sized bed for the two of us that was more comfortable than our beds back in london.

on friday we went to federal for breakfast upon recommendation (thank you lanie). meg got french toast and i got eggs benedict with a banana chocolate milkshake that was to die for. we met up with helena and walked around the center of the city for awhile, then got in line for takos al pastor, where we spent 6 euro for 3 tacos and tinto de verano (wine mixed with seltzer). we then walked to casa del campo, where we walked through what looked like the sahara desert and took a gondola ride above the park and the city, which gave us a sick view. afterwards, we went to la pecera, where we had ice cream served in waffle like fish cones. mine had teddy grahams and chocolate syrup on it and i highly recommend if you like ice cream. then meg and i went to retiro park during golden hour to take a boat ride. it was so beautiful and relaxing, the perfect end to a day.

went to el tigre del norte for drinks that were too big to hold with one hand, and the drink came with two full plates of food for only six euro. if london bars gave out food with their drinks they’d be so much more marketable. we then headed to space monkey, where they were having an american night, and i saw grace garcia! she bought us a round of shots called the dirty spaniard, and it tasted like chocolate milk.

on saturday, we made our way to federal again because it was THAT good. we walked over to the royal palace and the cathedral, where we got tickets for what we thought was just walking up to the top of the cathedral, but it was also a catholic museum with a bunch of old robes from the pope. we saw an incredible view of the city, and there was not a cloud in the sky. the cathedral was absolutely stunning and had so much stained glass, and the fountain outside of it was gorgeous too.

we got churros at the famous chocolateria san gines, where they give you a cup of melted chocolate and churros to share. we went to a place called ojala for dinner, which was a restaurant and bar that had sand as the floor. i literally felt like i was on the beach, daiquiri in hand.

began the night at 100 montaditos, which has 1.50 euro tinto de verano and 2 euro snacks. we met with helena and headed to kapital, a seven floor club. all of the floors had different themes such as the karaoke floor, the latino floor, and the terrace. we danced the night away on the huge dance floor, and met up with some other syracuse kids studying in madrid. 

after a very full day of traveling, i finally made it to london! it has been a whirlwind few days so far. our flight only took about six hours, and i probably slept for maybe 45 minutes. needless to say i was running solely on adrenaline once we touched down on land. 

we were taken to our flat by a driver, and i almost got into the american passenger side, which in london is the driver’s side. our flat is absolutely beautiful and totally worth the 40 minute commute to class. there are 7 of us total, and i am living in a triple. we have two bathrooms, a nicely sized kitchen, and a living room that could probably fit every SU London student.

there are already a bunch of interesting cultural differences that i’ve noticed. to name the obvious, driving on the left side of the road is WEIRD. i felt so backwards and i am not used to looking to the left to see if a car is coming. there is a stereotype that people in London are more polite than in the states, which is untrue, i personally think it’s just the sound of their accents. i told a girl “bless you” and she looked at me weird, and nobody holds the door open for you. “pants” are not actual pants, they refer to underwear. “trousers” are actual pants. people openly talk american politics with you. our washer is in the kitchen? it is also 2 feet wide? do europeans wash their clothes every day?

all the tube stop names sound so joyful. jubilee, piccadilly and paddington (which is where we live) to name a few. it is wildly easier to navigate than NYC transit. and also way way nicer.

whenever people look at our IDs, they’re like oh my god! america! and people sometimes say stereotypes about the state we’re from. but it is very nice to be legal. 

primark is MAGICAL. it’s kind of like forever 21 on steroids, but more organized. i bought sheets, pillowcases, towels and a washcloth for 13 pounds. what a STEAL.

so far, i have found a panera equivalent called “pret a manger,” where a lot of items include avocados which i love. no target equivalent tho, sad.

The experience of watching and then giving our thoughts and perspective of other films here in Bologna has been, complicated to say the least. We have watched films from a range of different decades and each film has played an important role in the growth and change in cinema. As is usual with film school we will watch a film, process and then give our feedback on the film. We did this over and over again but there was one instance in particular that will stick with me. When we watched and gave our interpretation of Rossellini’s Journey in Italy.

We watched the film as usual and had very little context of what the film was and then gave our critiques. Almost everyone in the room said the same thing. We critiqued the film for not being very strong in it’s narrative and for having a particularly week ending. Then after hearing our perspectives the two of you asked us, what if we tried watching the film outside of the narrative bubble we came to understand.

This moment … Hit me. Like it really got to me and made an impact.

I began to rethink my ways of viewing films. I went back in my mind over my reactions to films in the past (namely when I was 18 when I rewrote and created a new shot list for the end of ‘On the Waterfront’ by Elia Kazan). I began to realise how much of a subjective art form film really is. Bresson told us that he wanted us to feel his films and to understand them. Antonioni said that he wouldn’t tell us the meaning of Blow Up cause that’s not the point and Lynch … well we really have no idea where that mind is going most of the time.

All of these great artists made works of the subjective that they turned into the objective. Their own ideas, their own codified language of semiotics that we cannot understand since we have not lived their experiences and understand images and experiences in the same way.

And yet, film is an art form that we are constantly critiquing, all of the time. Everyone gives their opinion on what a good film and a bad film is, whether uou know nothing or everything about film. We are forever drawing our own opinions on the art form. There is universally accepted good and likewise bad. Film is caught in this strange stage of being both universal and singular in the same space. Both understood by many and comprehended by none.

The subjectivity of film is the subjectivity of art which is the competition between individuality of beauty and the uniformity of aesthetics.

So, now we have established one of the words in the title, now let’s move on to the second. Teaching … what the fuck!!!

How on God’s green earth are we meant to teach film? Sure the very simple answer to this is to say the technical side. Well great that’s fine. But then what about the rest, what about the subjective.

How do teachers critique a students work, their own language?

I’m not for a second saying that students don’t have something to learn.

I know for a fact I have so much to learn as a student and I keep trying to learn from professors.

But I have to wonder, how can we as filmmakers sit in portfolio review look at another persons subjective understanding of a time with their own codified language and honestly and truthfully and helpfully critique them?

That is an art form that I truly struggle to understand.

The experience of watching and then giving our thoughts and perspective of other films here in Bologna has been, complicated to say the least. We have watched films from a range of different decades and each film has played an important role in the growth and change in cinema. As is usual with film school we will watch a film, process and then give our feedback on the film. We did this over and over again but there was one instance in particular that will stick with me. When we watched and gave our interpretation of Rossellini’s Journey in Italy.

We watched the film as usual and had very little context of what the film was and then gave our critiques. Almost everyone in the room said the same thing. We critiqued the film for not being very strong in it’s narrative and for having a particularly week ending. Then after hearing our perspectives the two of you asked us, what if we tried watching the film outside of the narrative bubble we came to understand. 

This moment … Hit me. Like it really got to me and made an impact.

I began to rethink my ways of viewing films. I went back in my mind over my reactions to films in the past (namely when I was 18 when I rewrote and created a new shot list for the end of ‘On the Waterfront’ by Elia Kazan). I began to realise how much of a subjective art form film really is. Bresson told us that he wanted us to feel his films and to understand them. Antonioni said that he wouldn’t tell us the meaning of Blow Up cause that’s not the point and Lynch … well we really have no idea where that mind is going most of the time.

All of these great artists made works of the subjective that they turned into the objective. Their own ideas, their own codified language of semiotics that we cannot understand since we have not lived their experiences and understand images and experiences in the same way.

And yet, film is an art form that we are constantly critiquing, all of the time. Everyone gives their opinion on what a good film and a bad film is, whether uou know nothing or everything about film. We are forever drawing our own opinions on the art form. There is universally accepted good and likewise bad. Film is caught in this strange stage of being both universal and singular in the same space. Both understood by many and comprehended by none.

The subjectivity of film is the subjectivity of art which is the competition between individuality of beauty and the uniformity of aesthetics. 

So, now we have established one of the words in the title, now let’s move on to the second. Teaching … what the fuck!!!

How on God’s green earth are we meant to teach film? Sure the very simple answer to this is to say the technical side. Well great that’s fine. But then what about the rest, what about the subjective.

How do teachers critique a students work, their own language?

I’m not for a second saying that students don’t have something to learn.

I know for a fact I have so much to learn as a student and I keep trying to learn from professors.

But I have to wonder, how can we as filmmakers sit in portfolio review look at another persons subjective understanding of a time with their own codified language and honestly and truthfully and helpfully critique them? 

That is an art form that I truly struggle to understand.

Final Class on Neorealism.

I've learnt so much, been inspired by so many films and been hit by how little I know and how much more I have to learn. Cannot wait to carry on learning about this movement and the influence it has had.

And we’re all the way back to an early morning flight.

Somehow, it doesn’t feel so sweet. Still, I have no complaints

I had an amazing weekend.

So I thought I’d unashamedly share my cheesy happiness.

Enjoy

There’s nothing like early morning travels to help center myself again.

Off to Paris!!!