The Menteur May Issue

The Menteur, MAY, 2013 1

PARIS LITERARY MAGAZINE N° 1 MAY 2013

THE MentEUR

poetryfiction

from Paris&

2 The Menteur, MAY, 2013

Rubrieken

Poetry25 Seven Young Poets

Essay17 Fin-de-siècle of the Art-

house?

Review16 Poet of a Generation

Post Script32 Backlog of the Future

Interview9 Cover Artist Emin Turan

Fiction6 Flowerbed

8 Untouchable


EDITORS COMMENTS

Rubrieken Dear Reader,First and foremost, welcome to the first issue of The Menteur. Developed

over hours of dinner conversation and the incessant popping of corks, we are proud to present the brain-child of a few of us over here at the University of Kent at Paris. In keeping with Albert Camus’ philosophy that “Fiction

is the lie through which we tell the truth,” we decided on the name The Liar. After further discussion, it seemed only fair to honour our home and

headquarters here in France, so within minutes of its birth, The Liar was dead and The Menteur was born. Early on, it became clear to us that The

Menteur would be a magazine only in the sense that it holds ammunition. Although based in Paris, our staff is a truly international group. We were brought together by a shared passion for art and were not willing to pass up the opportunity to at least try to do something great during our time

together. We strive to not only produce inspired work in this truly global city, but to give a voice to others like us, just finding their way in the world. Our submissions in the form of poetry, short fiction, critical essays, reviews,

as well as rants and ravings, have come in from across several continents. The result is the literary magazine you see before you today.

Best enjoyed in a pub or on a long train journey, we hope this first issue of The Menteur as well as the ones to follow can inspire people to read, write, paint, play instruments, learn a language, go biking, plant a garden, keep a

bee hive, build a canoe, bake a pie (preferably blueberry), climb a mountain, go abroad or maybe even just buy another drink and keep reading.

Whatever it is, we hope you become passionate (or were at least happy that you tried something new) and pick up the next issue, which is currently

accepting submissions and due out next month.

On behalf of all of us here on staff, thanks for reading and when you’re done, we hope you’ll pass us on to someone new.

Here’s to new adventures,

The Menteurs


THE MentEURSAlex Zhang Editor in Chief

David van RoonArt Director & Fiction Editor

Ben Said ScottEssay Editor

Lindsay SchmittReview Editor & PR

Michèle SchmitzFiction Editor

Eoin MadiganPoetry & Essay Editor

Osman Nuri IyemPost Script & Interview Editor

Toria PurcellReview Editor & PR

Cais JurgensPoetry & Post Script Editor

Follow us on Facebook and @thementeur on Twitter.Submissions and enquiries: [email protected]


FICTIONWITH CONTRIBUTIONS FROM JULIA VAN ROON & CAIS JURGENS

photos by Osman Nuri Iyem


FLOWER BEDby Cais Jurgens

If you were to look into the window at

number seven Forest Street, you’d see something quite peculiar indeed. A small child actor by the name

of Katrina inspecting a crippled wine bottle that had just been hurled at the portrait of her grand father, which hung above the china

chest in the dining room. She found the cracked bottle by the table after all the grown ups had dozed off, catatonic from drink. She stuck her pinky

deep, as far she could. The liquid lubricated her finger and she smelled the alcohol linger. At the age of six, it was nothing new to her. Beautiful really, the

aroma of liquid courage. She tasted it and loved it and looked around. They were all asleep, so she drank some more. Pressing the green bottle to her lips, she tipped it back and let it fill her mouth. It seeped out the sides and down her neck and stained the collar of her gentle dinner dress. She dropped it and coughed. The lovely, white carpet, fresh from the vacuum was stained the color of Shiraz and she wandered off. If you’re still standing at the window, be sure to wipe away the condensation from your breath for a better view.

It was beautiful, how everything melted away from the loneliness of it all. Her mother was asleep in the wicker chair, holding her fathers hand. A

cigarette was taut between his lips, the ash breaking off and falling to a pile in his lap. His mind was off with his mistress, somewhere

up above the ceiling fan. The priest invited for dinner was holding his crotch and nodding his head, eyes closed to

the dinner jazz that drifted through the home. His face seemed to be turning

blue. Uncle was


FLOWER BED

exhaled. It was his last breath

and he died, right there at the table. His right hand was still down his

trousers, his collar was loose and speckled with gravy. The coroner was called to arms and her

father rose at last. “Dinner without dessert tonight.” He was an

extremely coarse man but he always helped her mother clear the table.

If you’re still standing at the window, now would be a good time to leave. The coroner is on his way and undoubtedly the police will arrive before him and you wouldn’t want to be charged as the peeping tom at

an occasion such as this. The rather unflattering death of a priest at the hands of a mal-

chewed, butter covered brussel sprout. Not buttered enough, it

seems.

cradling his wine and playing

footsy with her aunt while her brother was all ears to the radio in the hall.

Our child actor slithered for the front door and turned the gleaming, brass knob with both

hands. The door blew open. Outside, cars were passing and they were marvelous and melodic with their windows

open. Headlights, lost in the discreet distance of the cul de sac lit up the drizzle in their bright eyes. Twisted tree limbs hung barely from the last tornado that came through like a freight train and she cried. The stench of fresh rain on hot pavement hung in the air and crippled her. She vomited red all over the ceramic goose on the patio. Across the street the neighbor’s dog unleashed a volley of barking at her

wretched retching. “Mommy, where are you please?” Mommy sprang from her parlé and bolted, lost in

the shame of it all. The fire sank and the priest finally


by Ju

lia va

n Ro

onUN

TOUC

HABL

E There was a man, lets call him a boy, in a city so great and grand that you could say it was a country by itself. A city that conquers your heart as soon as you set one foot on its surface. This is the story of a boy that said he could not be

touched.I believe this story began on a day that was boring. A day like all other days, a day

where now and then you grasp the unchangeable boringness and try to change it. It started on a day like that.

It was the city that called his name, and he came. Packing up, picking up stuff had never felt so easy; all the weight he could carry, all that he would need. It was a plane that took him there, rushing through thin air. The city was happy with the arrival of this boy and wanted to thank him well. Late that evening, it whispered in his ear:

Explore me, run through my veins. Explore me, like offtrack trains. Explore me, do you believe in my power? Explore me, I will devouer.

This being said, he ran the streets, the streets he did not know, the streets that would soon start to eat, without him knowing how he would fall into defeat. That first night was the night he fell in love, not with man nor woman, but with a fluid that burned his throat, like a fire fanning out in a forest dead and dry.

As the days passed, he saw him or her, whatever you want to call the damn thing, almost every day. Like friends, like lovers and even like life companions. A tragic and pathetic love that would never be answered, just accepted for what it was. A one sided feeling.

Days went like they came at night. Taken over. Just like the city, big as a country, the fluid that burned was trying to get him. The night, that knew the boy had been taken by those two, now had to come up with something special too. It could think of only one sentence that would strike the boy down. If this would not succeed he would leave it there. This one sentence was uttered without shame of his two current lovers standing by:

The day is merely an illuminated night.He fell, he fell in the arms of the night, lifted on its hands, those great words, so

true, fair and reliable. Through all of this, not seeing the light, the people that cared, wished he would stand, but he could not even hear those voices anymore, and when one did, the night would whisper in his ear:

Jealousy...

And the burning fluid would say:You’ll miss me...And then the city huge like a country would end it:You don’t need them, when you have me.The boy would react by saying: “I am untouchable”.

As days in whole had been taken by night, they started to fade, they started to faint, fade with darkness and he would do as days do.

More and more and more, he fell deeper, oh how he could not touch the ground. One night, while the boy was dancing it away, he hit the ground. His face,

expressionless, pointing to the left. The one weakness of being untouchable is knowing you are.


A VOYAGE TO THE ROOTS OF THE SUN

An INTERVIEW WITH Emin Turan

by Osman Nuri Iyem

artw

ork

by E

min

Tur

an


I think it is very difficult to create new and authentic art under the current ideology. Everything is becoming one and the same – even things that appear to be refreshing at first. There is a saturation of images today – we are bombarded by advertisement photos as well as individuals’ Facebook photos. Today’s tech-nology also plays a role; for example, everyone can take great pictures with Instagram and edit them. Visual technology has become really easily manipulative. Some artists nowadays create art by simply projecting a photograph onto a canvas and then painting over it – all in the name of contemporary art. It is very common now to turn ready-made images into something new. My aim, however, is to create something that cannot be easily consumed and absorbed.

I tried to make a different texture as a substruc-ture for my painting to create something new for this exhibition. I used motion to create this texture. It’s like a big bang of paintball on the canvas, representing the earth. The motion of the canvas and the liquidity of water and paint

created topographic, map-like results. Some might say they resemble stained glass; some might say they look like Byzantium mosaics. While being a ‘shamanic’ technique, it is also ‘scientific’ because I was able to calculate the results through the angle at which I turn the canvas and the ratio of paint to water I mixed.

Not all of them. But it is a big part of my cur-rent exhibition. This constituted the first stage of most of my current paintings. I also tried to keep all stages of my work as transparent layers to leave traces of the creative process. It may be impossible or utopian, but I wanted to extend the depth of the painting to infinity.

Instead of looking to nature for inspiration, I tried to look inside myself. I also tried to incorporate more shamanic elements without denying the reality of analytical geometry.

In France, Impressionist painters literally calculated the angle of the sunlight according to the time to the day. They worked almost sci-entifically. But for Turkish painters, it is more poetic: the sunrays hitting the ground do not actually represent the time of the day, but ac-

Whoever says art nowadays cannot be authentic, should talk to Emin Turan. This up-and-coming Turkish artist recently opened his new exhibition in Istanbul. His artwork features on the cover of this magazine and we are sure we will hear more about this engaging mind. Our editor, Osman Nuri Iyem, interviewed Emin about his art and philosophy.

Emin, you have just opened a new exhibi-tion in Turkey. Can you talk a little about

the way in which you conceptualise your own work and how your art differs from other contemporary artists?

How do you think you have achieved your aims – what techniques did you use?

Did you use this technique for all your paint-ings?

Can you elaborate on that?

Where did you find your inspiration for your work?


tually “the light hitting their hearts”. It’s almost romanticism.

Absolutely! This is my way of creating some-

thing authentic. Authenticity is at the very heart of my art. Maybe it seems naïve; maybe it doesn’t work. But at the end of the day, it’s Em-in’s painting without using recruited images. As an artist, unlike a scientist, you have to create your own way of thinking, your own language, and shape your subjectivity.

Can we say that your canvas, paint and brushes are just like the shaman’s drums in his ritual?


It is. But as an artist, you have to exhibit your paintings and confront people in the ‘art ba-zaar’. You need a lot of will power to do that. My paintings contain a diversity of tendencies – maybe it seems unprofessional to some – but I insist on defending this multiplicity despite the difficulties.

Yes. I think we have always been trying to locate ourselves between animals and gods. We end up confining ourselves to artificial catego-ries while trying to imitate nature. Whereas the shaman is kind of like a half-god. We are still searching for our place in the world, and it is in this sense that we can say that the Renaissance is still an on-going phenomenon for human-kind.

I think painting might be the first technology in history – maybe even older than language. Maybe the idea of framing the painting came about in conjunction with the rise of seden-tism – when hunter-gatherers settled down

and put fences around their dwellings. For me, ‘delirium’ is a good metaphor for the ways in which our experiences are structured now. We are constantly multi-tasking. This is the background against which art is being created today. In a multi-layered figurative painting, the classical hierarchies of art are broken and shattered into pieces.

The artist can imitate nature in a myriad of ways. But for me, the creative process is about how the artist sees the self. I choose not to imitate nature, but to imitate a mythological ‘half-god’.

We live in an epoch of complete commodifi-cation – or so-called postmodern age. Class politics are replaced by identity politics. Postmodernist theory insists that we forget the grand narratives; it refuses to look at the bigger picture. We have framed ourselves in little boxes. We lived through tragedy; we lived through comedy. Perhaps now we are living in a tragi-comical age.

So, is the ‘shamanic’ technique that you use a way of forging a new kind of artistic subjec-tivity?

Can we say, then, this is also how you as an artist relate to history, as well as to the con-temporary situation?

You just mentioned artists’ drive to imitate nature. Do you think mimesis plays any role in your art? Can we still learn from imitating nature, or the works of masters?

When the kind of new subjectivity ex-pressed through your art is situated in con-temporary context, does it also constitute a political stance or statement?

Do you think it is difficult to defend your own vision in today’s environement?

‘My aim is to create something that cannot be easily consumed’


We have discussed history. Do you think geography, the fact that you are creating your art from Istanbul, affects the way your sub-jectivity is shaped? Of course. Istanbul has been a very oriental place for Westerners – as an Other against which the West defines itself. But Istanbul used to be the heart of an empire too. This creates a

kind of self-reflexivity in Istanbul, where Ori-entalism and Occidentalism are clashing. It’s like having two shattered mirrors – each seeing the other fractured. Nonetheless, this is greatly advantageous for creative minds. It creates a multiplication of the Cartesian mind – if the Western/Eastern duality is maintained. This can very well carry the seeds of a new subjec-tivity, if taken seriously. M




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ESSAY


The phrase fin de siècle evokes the image of large-scale historical

transition. It often denotes the end of an era. It is perhaps a coincidence of chronology that the establishment of film as the medium of cinema and its gradual eclipse marked the beginning and end of the 20th century. The last decade saw the displacement of 35mm film projection by digital pro-jection. Vast numbers of cin-emas in the United States and Europe today have embraced digital projection. The indus-trial transition from 35mm to digital exhibition is very well captured by David Bordwell’s metaphor, Pandora’s digital box. Most major American multiplex or megaplex oper-ators have successfully com-pleted the digital transition despite initial resistance and speculation. However, the same process proves to be extremely difficult for art-house theatre operators in the

US who find it almost im-possible to afford the digital metamorphosis. For them, the “digital revolution” seems to be the apocalyptic horsemen announcing the end of their business – art-house cinema’s fin de siècle.

Historically, most major technological innovations in the film industry have been introduced in the production sector. The exhibition sec-tor has traditionally resisted technological changes initially due to the risks involved in technological shift. If a new technology does not catch on, the exhibition sector often has to bear most of the cost. The distribution sector in the US has grown over the years to become the most power-ful and profitable sector. The current digital revolution not only represents vast potential cost savings for distributors, but also gives them more power over exhibitors. In other words, digital conver-

sion signals another victory for the distribution sector and further consolidation of the oligopoly of the major production and distribution companies in Hollywood.

This essay does not seek to deny the validity of Bord-well’s insight, that “the ongo-ing digital revolution can be conceptualised as the product of a long historical process of the changes in technolo-gy”, but aims to add another dimension to his arguments by comparing the experiences of American and French art-house theatres in the current digital conversion process.

Technological and indus-trial changes are not uniform, but uneven processes that are facilitated or constrained by specific geographies that cir-cumscribe them. The current “digital tide” does not sweep across the globe with equal ferocity, leaving a homoge-nous industrial landscape in its wake. Instead differences in cultural-political environment produce varied impacts on art-house theatres undergoing the digital transition.

The adoption of a new technology in cinema goes through the phases of “in-vention” (the development of

PANDORA’S DIGITAL BOXDigital cinema in America and France

by Alex Zhang

Digital projection has been hailed as a revo-lution in cinema. But can art-house cinemas survive this transition? Our editor Alex Zhang compares the situations in America and France.


necessary technology), “in-novation” (the manufacturing and marketing of the tech-nology), and “diffusion” (its widespread adoption by the industry). The condition in which this process takes place is constantly changing, result-ing in the uneven develop-ment of new technologies.

Due to the risk-averse na-ture of the exhibition sector, it is often the most conser-vative towards technological change. The digital conversion of cinemas was initially very sluggish until three important

problems were sufficiently tackled: a common indus-trial standard, the ability to demonstrate the benefit of the new technology to the audi-ence, and cost effectiveness.

The prophecy of the digital revolution was announced more than a decade ago. At the ShoWest Exhibition in Las Vegas in March 1999, exhib-itors were intrigued by the presentation of the “digital fu-ture” of exhibition in the film business. Later in the same year, one of the most vocal champions of digital cinema,

George Lucas, showed his new film, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, in four cinemas in the United States with digital projection. Con-fident that the future would be digital, he compared the digital transition to the com-ing of sound and colour, and announced that not only will films now be made digitally, they will also be distributed and exhibited digitally.

But the exhibition sector did not respond with equal enthusiasm. The lack of a common industrial standard

for projection made it very risky for exhibitors to em-brace large-scale conversion. 35mm film prints can be distributed around the world, and every cinema equipped with a projector will be able to project the film in a rou-tine operation. Digital files, however, were not univer-sally compatible. In order to eliminate this problem, the major Hollywood distributors – MGM, Paramount, Sony

Pictures, 20th Century Fox, Universal, Disney, and War-ner Bros. – decided to form the Digital Cinema Initiative (DCI) in 2002 in order to establish a set of specifications for digital cinema. These specifications were published in 2005 and sought to end debates within the industry regarding questions such as minimum resolution, file for-mat, encryption methods, and the risks of piracy.

The introduction of the DCI specifications meant that major Hollywood distributors would be releasing films in a common format to ensure inter-operability. The compe-tition in hardware also set-tled with Texas Instruments’ Digital Light Process (DLP) projector system as the win-ner against its major compet-itor Hughes/JVC. Now three major manufacturers of digi-tal projectors, Barco, Christie,

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something it’s not. The value of digital perceived by the audience will vary from little to significant, depending on creative use of the content and what special enhancements are being used.”

However, John Belton, when making the argument in 2002, was not able to take into account the demonstrat-ing power of 3D. Increasing numbers of films made and distributed in 3D boosted

demand for the new digital technology.

There was, in other words, a concerted effort by the Hollywood oligopoly to push through digital cinema. But the cost of conversion re-mained high; it was too much a financial risk for exhibitors to take, especially during the early 2000s when many American theatre chains, which operate thousands of megaplexes, were filing

bankruptcy protections. The potential cost-savings of digital cinema are, still, predominantly on the side of distributors. Digital cinema files, or the Digital Cinema Packages (DCPs), stored on a hard-drive or delivered via satellite, present huge savings opportunities for distribu-tors. Traditionally, it costs about $1,500 to $2,500 to make a 35mm print, whereas a DCP hard drive costs only

NEC, have acquired licences from Texas Instruments to make DLP projectors that are compliant to the DCI specifi-cations, dominating the mar-ket. An additional advantage for distributors is that they will have more control of the use of their contents. Encrypt-ed digital files require spe-cially delivered digital keys, which enables the exhibitor to read the file at specific times. This gives distributors a “re-

mote control” over exhibitors’ programming.

However, for a new tech-nology to catch-on, there has to be something worthwhile in store for the audience too. Writing in 2002, John Belton argued that the digitisation of cinema was not comparable to the introduction of syn-chronised sound and colour; it was a “false revolution” that would mainly benefit Holly-wood oligopoly, but would of-

fer no new experience for the audience. But Champions of digital cinema were aware of the potential disappointment audiences would feel toward a digitally projected image. One article in Boxoffice discussed possible branding strategies for digital cinema:

“…it will be important to keep marketing in check with the value perceived by the au-dience. In other words, don’t over-hype digital cinema into


about $150 to make. A pro-jector that conforms to DCI specifications costs about $100,000. Unlike technolo-gies such as mobile phones or personal computers which have an economy of scale that can quickly bring down the cost, digital projectors are not likely to be a product to achieve mass circulation, especially when megaplexes have reached a kind of sat-uration point, and are faced with mounting pressure from growing home entertainment innovations like HDTV and Video-On-Demand. The cost

of projectors is not likely to decline.

Because of this, even the most widely adopted business model is the Virtual Print Fee (VPF) system. This model resembles a kind of bank loan system where the digital projector is “leased” to the-atre operators through a third party called an “integrator”, which gets a loan from a bank to purchase the projector. Apart from the contribution from exhibitors, the distrib-utor pays a fee, now about $800, when a DCP is used and projected, to the integrator to-

wards the total cost of instal-lation of new equipments. Af-ter enough digital projections have been made, the cost of the projector will be covered by the sum of Virtual Print Fees paid by distributors and the exhibitor’s contributions; the exhibitor will in turn own the projector. Despite the fees paid by distributors, many art-house theatres in the US still cannot afford the required contribution.

While the VPF scheme, which will close its sign-up period in 2013, has helped some theatres, according to


the National Association of Theatre’s (NATO) estimates, around 20% of the theatres in the US, representing some 10,000 screens, would have to close because they cannot afford the ferry fare across the digital river that is divid-ing the American cinematic landscape.

Another problem facing this 20% of theatres is the availability of films that attract atten-dance - two-thirds of all ticket sales at art-house theatres are still based on major features. However, because of the “Digital revolution” those films that are considered ‘mainstream’ are becoming less and less available. Twentieth Century Fox notified theatre owners in April 2012 that it will stop releasing films on 35mm print in about two years time. It is likely that other Hollywood majors will soon follow suit. If art-house theatres fail to successfully convert to digital, they will not be able to show films produced by Hollywood majors, or any other digitally distributed independent films that conform to the DCI specification.

The small theatres in the US have been re-sponding to the challenge of digitisation in var-ious ways. In the absence of any governmental support, some have appealed to the communi-ties that they are embedded in for donations. The County Theatre in Doylestown, Pennsylva-nia is one such theatre that successfully transi-tioned to digital with the help of its communi-ty. This follows the growing consensus among art-house theatre owners that they should re-orient themselves as non-profit theatres that are “community-based and mission-driven”, theatres that “generate revenue from sources beyond the typical sale of tickets and popcorn”. However, this kind of “cappuccino” multi-pur-pose art-house venue also needs substantial capital for its survival and models like this are not likely to save many theatres. Also, the kind of cinephilic culture that will bolster ticket sales takes time to foster: many independent theatres will have already closed before such a culture is mature enough to bail them out.

Caught in this ongoing technological and industrial upheaval, the digital future does not

shine bright on the silver screens of art-house theatres in the US. It is perhaps not a sur-prising conclusion to draw given the political as well as cultural environment of the US in which the digitisation process is unfolding. Where free-market doctrines are the rules of the game, it is almost cliché to assert that the trend of history is on the side of oligopoly and that smaller theatres are left on their own to fend for themselves. Without public support, digital cinema simply “doesn’t add up” for art-house cinemas. They can be seen, in the last analysis, as the “collateral damage” caused by the “logic of capital accumulation”.

What about Europe?Compared to the up-hill struggle art-house theatres in the US face, the European coun-terparts are fairing much better. Norway’s cinemas are predominantly public-owned, and by 2011, all cinemas in Norway have been converted for digital projection. A tax credit system is adopted in Italy, and the British Film Council has invested £34 million in building over 200 digital screens across the country with a focus on independent/British-oriented programming. The European Commission’s MEDIA Programme also explicitly recognises the need for state support for small theatres, and offers various public funding channels to help small theatres digitise.

President of NATO in the US, John Fithian, reporting on the European Cinema Summit in Brussels in 2009, loathed the “religious fer-vour” of the “massively protective policies” of European governments against “the invading hordes of American entertainment”. He com-plained that such measures would have been against international trade rules were it not for UNESCO’s distinction of “culture” from other forms of trade. The result of such protective measures is that “way too many” European films get made every year. The investment of millions of Euros by EU governments to help theatres convert to digital sounds almost alien to Fithian, who takes the American lais-


sez-faire industrial environment as the norm.The experience of France is a particularly

good case wherein two significant features stand out. One is the strong state support for French cinema; the other is an art-house friendly cinephilic culture. By early 2012, over 3,600 screens, two-thirds of national total, had switched over to digital in France. The differ-ence between France and other EU countries is perhaps France’s adamant stance on the policy of “cultural exception”. Since the Gen-eral Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) negotiations in 1993, the French government has insisted on a policy that treats cultural products, such as films, differently than other commodities that are subject to international free-trade rules. France has also been a vocal advocate for the “cultural diversity” agenda set by UNESCO to the discomfort of the United States. Since Mitterrand’s Socialist government in the 1990s, the policy of cultural exception has been the most defended policy despite governmental changes.

Even the conservative Sarkozy government prided itself on not cutting state budget for arts funding. In fact, state budget for arts fund-ing increased during Sarkozy’s government.Commenting on the success of Michel Haza-navicius’ The Artist (2011), President Sarkozy said in a radio interview that the film’s success “should reinforce the idea of supporting cre-ation, of supporting directors…we must defend the cinema, defend authors”. The presidential candidate of the Socialist Party at that time, François Hollande, also attributed the interna-tional success of The Artist to “a specific means of financing” that is “the strength of French cinema.” When it comes to cinema, French “protectionism” and “anti-Americanism”, a source of frequent complaint for Hollywood, seems to unite both the left and the right of French political spectrum.

Current situationThis policy is likely to continue under the cur-rent Socialist government led by Hollande.In

terms of public funding for cinema, the French government has been exceptionally generous. Elevated to status of the emblem of French culture, cinema has become the centre around which the French government constructs its public image. In a way it was French cinema that led the fight against globalisation in Eu-rope. The Centre National du Cinéma (CNC), the French equivalent of the British Film Council, has been offering generous financial support for French cinema since the 1980s. In the current wave of digital cinema conversion, the CNC has also thrown its weight behind small theatres that might be financially endan-gered. According to Variety, the CNC expects to spend about €125 million over a three-year period from 2010 onwards to help cinemas complete the digital transition. The public subsidy will cover 90% of the conversion costs for theatres in small towns and rural areas, as well as cinemas that are experiencing financial difficulty. Coupled with subsidies, there are also bank loan guaranties available for cinemas that lack the means to convert.

Another factor that makes France stand out is its cinephilic culture and its popular support for independent cinema. In other European countries, Hollywood films dominate about 90% of box office; the same figure is about 45-65% in France. It is argued that digital rollout in Europe since 2009 has been driven by 3D, and has been benefiting Hollywood at the ex-pense of European cinema, as most Hollywood majors have been releasing their films in DCP format while many European distributors were still making 35mm prints. Again, the French case seems to be the exception. The year 2011 was a particularly good one for French films; French titles accounted for 41% of the box of-fice sales, whereas in other European countries, the domestic market share was in single digits.In 2004, art-house cinemas sold over 50 mil-lion tickets – over a quarter of all admissions in France. Unlike in the United States, more than 40% of French cinemas are officially designated as art-houses. Every French locale with over


200,000 inhabitants has an art-house cinema, and over 63% of towns with a population less than 10,000 do. Art-house cinemas in France, unlike those in the US, are not an endangered species. Art-houses in the US, often character-ised by the trade press as representing a mar-ginalised “niche market”, are caught in an exis-tential crisis in the current digital era. Whereas their French counterparts, far from constitut-ing a negligible “niche market”, are still a vital part of ordinary French cultural fabric and are in very good health.

American and French art-house theatres are experiencing the “digital revolution” in strik-ingly different ways, and the comparison leads to a conclusion that paints a different picture than the apparently irresistible Americanisa-tion of digital culture.

Both American and French art-house cine-mas are subject to the potential financial stress produced by the rapid technological change. However the situation of American art-house theatres is alarming due to the consolidation of oligopoly power and government negligence, whereas the French scene is much more op-timistic due to the public support received by French art-house cinemas.

The experience of French art-house cinemas indicates that cultural-political environment does influence the effects a technological change can have on the film industry. The damaging effects of digitisation on art-house theatres in the US, driven by the Hollywood oligopoly, are mitigated by the protective public policies and the art-house friendly cinephilic culture in France. Governmental intervention in the film industry seems almost unimag-inable in the American context, whereas in France, it is a policy that unites the political spectrum. Perhaps there is a valuable lesson that can be learnt from the “anti-Americanism” adopted by the French government. To use Bordwell’s metaphor, “Pandora’s digital box” does not necessarily spell doom for all art-house theatres; it depends on where you open it.

E U R O FP A R I S

M


PO eT R YM E N TE U R O F

1

2

3

4

5

P A R I S 6


Spit fliesIn poor directionAngers, egos flareWe are fiveHe is oneStrident lack of care

Legally a boyIllegally drunkHe invokesProfanity’s vengeanceThen his handAgitated reachesIntoHis black sweatpants

Breathless dreadBewildered beseechesCaution, ending of rantsHis hand comes outToo slow for steelIt’s wood his fingers grasp!

A child’s hurleyRed grip frayedHe’s pulled it from his ass!

One wide swingWe rush inDisarm himPin him, squirmingSirens aboundBlue lights surroundThis laughableTeenage warrior

THE CORK INC IDENTby Eoin Madigan

P A R I S


the state seams undressed, lolls mind’s the gap. Sole coming out a bathroom’s stall. Barred

Your hand is not a metro stop (though i did get off, i did sleep, reminded of bouquets of buttery piss. The wet fluorescence subsides; noise cancelings in to mute alarms like Disney soundtracks.

A gate grey locked and Le Monde in the corner thank you, “well-pleased pleaser,” for these huddled polyglots. Growling gut, sick from porridge delicious as poverty to a Polish Marxist.

A gender away & skint on autodialogues from a bender; Bulleit and coke drooling out her nose in 1080dpi. Intervening blocks, centripetal polygons alie

allez rinsing off / the smell of Gallieni a transient between trench and center. Decide: freeze or stink?

Not the width of the Atlantic between us, but the accidental Faraday cage, the length of the waves prevents resting, again, on your cool concrete in nights where you scorched my sieving rakish spring.

Drag down smoke— dehydrate, alveoli, my blackening boughs.

THROUGH SPEAKERSby George Temple

1

2

3

4

5

6P A R I S


E U R O F

Right turn down A spitfire sundial We watch duelling rain Fall through crowds

Famed boulevards Framed in string quartetTributes bloom sweetlyIn our ears

Today’s a puddle Vibrant water pools We tip on toes ‘round footprints Filling up to school

Music grows In my good time Solo bending slow Knees like old gears creek

We take a cup midmorning Repair a good day Spoiling Rotten dreams

TEA GREEN HOT

MODERN DAY WARRIORS

Knights battling with treesRum in hand in red plastic cupsTire irons, pine conesMuddy shoes, beer cansWaging war – determinationDodging and focusThe tree shakes under the retaliation.Dodging and focusAnd the frisbee comes free.

by Crystal Lubinsky

by Cais Jurgens


In the dream both her nipples are pierced, A strange heaviness in my mouthas she pulls me further into warm, spiced flesh. We spend all the next morning in the preserved warmthof a mattress on the floor.

On awaking, head bent over coffee, the scene replays on looplike the resident melody of the ear or a comic-book superhero drawn over and over on loop like a resident melody or a muscular comic-book superherodrawn over and over in each frame.

The birdsong, from the sky-hatch window is a reminder of something else. Yet, I still spend the rest of the day chasing icy white teeth andslender rusted bars down cold bricked corridors away from each word I write.

by Peter Adkins

PHALLIC SOMNAMBULISM 1

2

3

4

5

6

E U R O F


The east-side hotelHangs with snowflakes on its windowsIcicles dangle on edge as a nation holds its breathThen smash into fragments on icy groundStepping outside brings cold airAnd waves of history

I still feel a joltWhenever I see a placeWhere frequent faces stood beforeThis side of the cityIs full of buildings decayed with timeWalls worn dirtyOld and lonely parks

I am sitting on a wooden benchWatching people go byHappy and vibrantThis would be a horrible place to die

Outside the abandoned barrierHistory is just some rubbleEverything has merged into one as far as the eye can seeBut in some parts this placeIs still 1963

The other side of the city computers light up the skyCrowds flock through marble squaresMy mind alive with the modern worldCars line streetsI have to cross the road more carefullySitting in this prismI stare at the altar of GodHe is a symbol hereAnd a presence there

When I sit on busesI feel I am in London or New YorkWhen back on the other side of history’s greatest divideThings are quieterThere is a respect for times gone pastA respect that even the other place has allowed to last.CI

TY O

F HAUN

TED

BUILDINGS

by

Joe

Bal

dw

in


In the winter garden my feet froze.I could feel them. Nails turning yellow, then hard as if that was the way.

We talk about things we could think of not what we want to sayin the winter garden it is so.Your gurgle echoes off walls wisps of smoke from a pyre enough to give my extremities faux warmth.

True, though we afford too much life to it, snow in our winter garden will soon melt, but will not thaw.True, though it’s a secret space, we are afraid, unable to describe the outside world avoiding opinions that will lead back the wrong way.

Yes, cobbled stones, a little ankle high dead hedge, coniferous vines - all the white in ourWinter Garden.

WINTER GARDENby Ben Said Scott

1

2

3

4

5

6

P


Faw

ns

by Ke

lly M

ongil

lo

Two

girls

are

layi

ng in

a p

low

ed h

ayfie

ld a

long

th

e Su

sque

hann

a Va

lley

in S

epte

mbe

r. T

hey

are

tripp

ing

on so

me

lega

l wee

d su

bstit

ute

garb

age

that

they

bou

ght a

t a tr

uck

stop

in P

enns

ylva

nia.

The

y ar

e st

arin

g at

the

star

s, ho

ldin

g ha

nds,

clin

ging

to e

ach

othe

r, la

ughi

ng h

yste

rical

ly.

The

girl

on

the

left

is la

ughi

ng b

ecau

se th

e st

ars k

eep

twin

klin

g in

and

out

of

exist

ence

, mak

ing

the

cute

st

little

noi

se li

ke th

e so

ft pe

ep o

f a

chic

k.

The

girl

on

the

right

is la

ughi

ng b

ecau

se th

e m

oon

is gi

ving

her

the

thum

bs u

p.

The

y ar

e bo

th a

ttem

ptin

g to

tell

the

othe

r one

wha

t is

happ

enin

g bu

t wor

ds w

on’t

com

e ou

t so

they

just

kee

p ey

e co

ntac

t in

hope

s of

shar

ing

thou

ghts

subl

imin

ally

or

by

pitc

hing

bra

in w

aves

bac

k an

d fo

rth

in th

e da

rk.

Sudd

enly,

the

girl

on th

e le

ft re

aliz

es sh

e is

thirs

ty, in

fa

ct d

ying

of

thirs

t. Pa

nick

ing,

she

atte

mpt

s to

craw

l ba

ck to

the

cam

pfire

for a

bot

tle o

f w

ater

but

her

legs

ar

e ju

st st

retc

hing

and

her

arm

as w

ell b

ecau

se th

e ot

her

girl

won

’t le

t go

of h

er h

and.

Sudd

enly,

the

girl

on th

e rig

ht re

aliz

es sh

e ca

n no

long

er h

ear t

he so

und

of th

e riv

er, w

hich

mea

ns th

at

time

has s

topp

ed. B

raci

ng fo

r the

inev

itabl

e en

d of

the

wor

ld th

at sh

e ca

n fe

el c

omin

g, sh

e cl

oses

her

eye

s and

cl

ings

to h

er fr

iend

. Sh

e kn

ows t

hat s

oon

it w

ill a

ll be

ov

er a

nd fi

nally

bac

k to

real

ity.

Still

dru

nk b

ut n

o lo

n-ge

r los

t, bo

th g

irls t

urn

and

say

toge

ther

in u

niso

n, a

s if

they

real

ly h

ad b

een

toss

ing

thou

ghts

to e

ach

othe

r “

I’m so

gla

d w

e ar

e bo

th st

ill h

ere.”

H

oldi

ng h

ands

, the

y re

turn

to th

e fir

e, w

here

a c

ol-

lect

ion

of k

ids w

ho w

ere

not i

nter

este

d in

find

ing

out

wha

t tha

t ran

dom

dru

g w

ould

do

are

drin

king

bee

r and

to

astin

g m

arsh

mal

low

s. T

here

, a b

oy tu

rns t

o th

em a

nd

with

a sm

ile sa

ys

“Wel

com

e ba

ck. Y

ou tw

o lo

ok li

ke fa

wns

in h

ead-

light

s.” T

he g

irls l

augh

ligh

tly, f

or th

at is

exa

ctly

how

th

ey fe

el.

POST S

CRIPT


by Jo

ey Ba

sna

HO

ME

COM

ING

There

was

a c

hild

brig

ht-e

yed

and

chee

ry,

Wea

ry

and

scat

tere

d he

gre

w o

f hi

s ow

n st

rang

e br

ew.

A d

iffer

ent k

ind

of st

rand

he

stan

ds fe

elin

g st

rand

ed.

No

one

to le

nd a

hel

ping

han

d.

He’s

dro

wni

ng,

Atte

mpt

ing

to sw

im o

ff th

isni

ghtm

are

of a

n isl

and.

Sudd

enly

it c

ame

to h

im li

ke d

eath

com

es to

all.

With

arm

s in

his p

alm

she

rose

up

tall,

swor

e th

e oa

th a

nd m

arch

ed fo

rth.

Past

is sc

ared

futu

re o

f hi

s sou

l is s

old

and

signe

d aw

ayon

that

stra

ight

line

, the

mira

geas

sure

d hi

m h

is sa

lvat

ion

has c

ome

to

him

.Fl

own

to a

zon

e un

know

n,Ye

t was

ver

y w

ell h

is ow

n.W

hile

ple

ased

to b

e ac

cept

edH

e be

lieve

s to

feel

col

lect

ed,

wha

t cam

e ne

xt w

as su

rely

une

xpec

ted,

or w

as it

?Fl

ippi

ng th

roug

h ch

anne

lshe

had

cau

ght i

t on

TV.

Thr

own

into

bat

tleH

it!

Its r

ealit

y.C

lutc

hing

his

knee

limpi

ng h

e ch

ose

his d

estin

y.

Scop

ing

for t

he re

mot

eH

opin

g to

turn

off

mise

ry!

War

wou

nds

batte

red

his b

ody

badl

y br

uise

d an

d ac

hing

they

kep

t rac

ing,

Vill

age

to v

illag

era

idin

g,C

arca

sses

of

sons

care

less

ly le

ft ou

t bak

ing

unde

r the

sun

for t

he ra

vens

.T

hen

it ca

me

back

to h

imLi

ke li

fe is

rebo

rn.

A to

wn

in w

hich

they

swar

med

With

face

s lik

e hi

s ow

nW

as tr

uth

shot

to b

e sh

own.

Cle

arly

he

saw

eve

n if

his e

yes w

ere

clos

ed,

Tim

e fr

oze

rippe

d th

e ba

dges

off

his u

nifo

rm

Dro

pped

the

guns

,

wal

ked

away

who

le.

With

a h

ole

in h

is he

art,

he w

as h

ome.

phot

os b

y Li

ndsa

y Sc

hmitt


It mus

t be

late

. Alm

ost n

oon,

or a

ftern

oon.

M

aybe

ear

lier t

houg

h.Yo

u w

ould

n’t k

now

that

- m

e ne

ither

. Ly

ing

dow

n on

my

bed,

crus

hed

up u

nder

my

blan

ket a

nd in

bet

wee

n m

y sh

eets

, I c

an se

e th

e gr

ay sk

y. At

leas

t par

ts o

f it,

a pa

rtia

l vie

w, I

wou

ld sa

y. O

ther

bui

ldin

gs a

re h

ighe

r any

way

s.A

par

tial g

ray

sky

view

. That

can

go

in m

y ad

w

hen

I nee

d to

find

a ro

omm

ate.

I wok

e up

ear

lier a

ctua

lly. M

y al

arm

wen

t lik

e cr

azy.

But I

slep

t thr

ough

. I re

mem

ber s

ayin

g to

m

ysel

f, I c

an ju

st c

uddl

e w

ith m

y sh

eets

for a

w

hile

. That

’s w

hat m

ade

me

sleep

this

late

. I

shou

ldn’

t hav

e. N

ot th

at I

had

anyt

hing

to d

o th

is m

orni

ng, b

ut m

y al

arm

stay

s on,

just

an

old

habi

t. Re

min

iscen

ce o

f my

old

life

in a

way

.Bu

t the

old

and

cold

coffe

e. D

id I

tell

you

ther

e w

as m

old

on it

? But

I dr

ank

it an

yway

s. I s

houl

dn’t

have

. May

be

just

a li

ttle

to sw

allo

w th

e pi

lls, b

ut W

HY

DO

I H

AVE

TO G

O A

LL T

HE

WAY

ALL

TH

E TI

ME?

That

was

n’t t

he b

est i

dea.

Nev

er b

een.

But t

he ch

urch

-goi

ng fa

mily

! Who

kno

ws w

hat

else

is g

oing

on

ther

e?

I can

pic

ture

the

faux

joy

lead

s the

m in

to a

race

.D

o th

ey e

ven

know

wha

t is p

ossib

ly g

oing

on

in

my

head

righ

t now

? D

o th

ey e

ven

know

abo

ut m

y ex

isten

ce? M

y so

le e

xist

ence

? D

o th

ey e

ven

know

that

I kn

ow a

bout

them

? W

ho k

now

s.‘C

uddl

ing

with

bed

shee

ts’, y

ou a

re st

ill q

ues-

tioni

ng th

at o

ne ri

ght?

You

mus

t thi

nk th

at I

am w

eird

, a cr

eep

even

. Wei

rdo

may

be. I

am

. I a

m b

it of

wei

rd.

It’s b

een

a lo

ng ti

me

since

I cu

ddle

d w

ith a

n ac

tual

hum

an b

eing

. That

doe

sn’t

mea

n I l

ike

this

situa

tion

thou

gh.

It’s b

ecau

se th

ey li

e, th

e w

omen

– a

nd I

don’

t lik

e lie

s. Bu

t I c

an sa

y, I

have

a sh

ared

toile

t and

a

smal

l kitc

hene

tte, w

ith a

lso a

des

k an

d sh

eets

to

shar

e as

wel

l.Sh

e w

ould

read

my

ad a

nd u

nder

stan

d th

at I

am th

e pe

rfec

t mat

ch.

Then

we

can

star

t our

fam

ily th

en.

We

will

slee

p th

roug

h m

y al

arm

and

cud

dle

with

the

shee

ts to

geth

er. O

ur n

on-ly

ing

fam

ily.

It is

forb

idde

n to

lie

in

our

fam

ily.

Dam

n ly

ing

peop

le! I

bet

you

hav

e no

idea

ab

out a

ny o

f thi

s. N

one.

Brin

g m

e so

me

mor

e ru

m n

ow,

plea

se.

Why

is th

e ru

m g

one?

I ru

n ou

t pre

tty q

uick

th

ese

days

.I m

ust b

e dr

inki

ng a

lot.

May

be n

ot.

May

be th

e bo

ttles

are

get

ting

smal

ler.

They

lie

anyw

ays!

The

com

pani

es.

The

alco

hol c

ompa

nies

, the

dru

g co

mpa

nies

an

d th

e ba

nks.

They

lie

big

time.

They

lie

big

and

simpl

e.Li

ke A

dolf

said

, ‘mak

e it

big,

so b

ig th

at th

ey

will

be

afra

id to

den

y it’.

The

lyin

g co

mpa

nies

and

the

lyin

g fa

mili

es,

they

are

the

core

of t

hese

chur

ch-g

oing

and

ly

ing

soci

etie

s.

by Os

man N

uri Iy

emW

HEN

IS

THIS

?PO

ST S

CRIPT


Wha

t a si

mpl

e an

d a

big

lie to

exi

st fo

r; fa

ke h

appi

ness

whi

ch is

sold

at th

e m

all.

I won

der i

f par

acet

emol

can

hav

e an

ythi

ng to

do

with

this.

I m

ean

who

kno

ws w

hat t

hey

put i

n th

ese

pills

? D

epre

ssan

ts, a

ntid

epre

ssan

ts o

r che

mic

al c

as-

trat

ors!

God

onl

y kn

ows w

hat!

Giv

ing

it a

seco

nd th

ough

t m

aybe

, jus

t may

be

he d

oesn

’t kn

ow a

nym

ore

eith

er.

Shit.

I cou

ld h

ave

done

a lo

t in

my

life.

May

be n

ow I’

ll ha

ve m

ore

coffe

e. U

gh. N

o m

old

in m

y co

ffee.

I sho

uldn

’t ha

ve d

rank

that

last

ni

ght.

Was

that

last

nig

ht?

How

to k

now

wha

t day

it is

act

ually

? God

kn

ows.

Shit.

Wha

t cou

ld h

ave

gone

this

wro

ng?

Wha

t wen

t thi

s wro

ng in

my

life

that

I am

ac-

tual

ly w

ritin

g th

ese

lines

- an

d yo

u ar

e re

adin

g

them

- in

desp

erat

e m

adne

ss,

thin

king

som

e-bo

dy m

ight

read

them

? M

aybe

I sh

ould

go

put m

y ad

now

, on

the

new

spap

er fo

r a ro

omm

ate.

Or I

can

just

rela

x an

d ta

ke it

eas

y.Sh

ould

com

e do

wn

now.

Nee

d to

com

e do

wn.

Sh

ould

I co

me

dow

n?I s

houl

d no

w.

Thes

e pa

race

tem

ols I

took

and

the

caffe

ine

mus

t not

be

getti

ng a

long

with

the

mes

calin

e. D

own.

Will

I co

me

dow

n?

Take

a d

eep

brea

th in

and

out.

Naa

, shi

t! Th

e ce

iling

com

ing

dow

n no

won

me.

Such

scen

ery!

Wai

t, w

hat i

f the

lyin

g an

d ch

urch

-goi

ng fa

mily

is u

p ab

ove

me

and

wild

ly fa

lling

dow

n on

me

?

They

mus

t be

scar

ed.

The

youn

g on

e es

peci

ally

mus

t be

in te

ars.

She

is, I

am n

ot.

Not

scar

ed I

am. C

affei

ne ju

st st

arte

d to

kic

k in

. I’l

l be

awak

e to

cat

ch th

emto

exp

lain

it’s

not m

y fa

ult w

hen

they

al

l fal

l to

my

room

.Sh

it.M

y he

art

mus

t be

beat

ing

fast

er th

an th

e ch

urch

’s be

ll. C

an I

actu

ally

hea

r th

at -

my

hear

t bea

ting?

W

ould

it m

atte

r?

It w

ould

mat

ter i

f the

re w

as a

diff

eren

ce. A

nd

ther

e sh

ould

n’t b

e an

y di

ffere

nce

why

shou

ld th

ere

be a

ny d

iffer

ent t

han

each

ot

her,

my

hear

t bea

t and

God

’s?Th

ey sh

ould

hav

e be

en th

e sa

me

anyw

ays.

One

he

art.

Smeo

thni

g m

ust h

ave

gnoe

terr

ibly

wor

ng

alon

g th

e w

ay. D

man

.Bu

t I a

m o

n pc

arae

tmeo

l rgi

ht? Th

at is

the

dfife

rnce

e. W

hat s

i the

dfir

ecen

ef? S

iht.

I shu

-lo

dn’t

hvae

tkea

n th

e pi

lls.


LIVE AND STUDY IN PARIS, IN ENGLISH Students don’t need to speak fluent French to study at the University of Kent at Paris as all teaching is in English. French lessons are provid-ed before and during the stay in Paris and living in the city helps students to gain valuable lan-guage skills and experience.

ATTRACTIVEHISTORIC SURROUNDINGS The University of Kent at Paris is based at Reid Hall, a beautiful 19th century building in the heart of Montparnasse, just minutes by foot from the Jardin du Luxembourg, the Sorbonne, the Latin Quarter and Saint- Germain-des-Prés. With trips to major museums happening most weeks, students really do get to see the best of Paris.

WORLD-LEADING RESEARCHAT THE UK’S EUROPEAN UNIVERSITY We are among the best research-intensive univer-sities in the UK with staff engaged in research of international and world-class standing. Kent has specialist postgraduate centres in Brussels, Paris, Athens and Rome as well as long-standing part-nerships with over 100 European universities.

To find out more, please visitwww.kent.ac.uk/paris

UNIVERSITY OF KENTAT PARIS

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