(no subject)

[solitary_summer]

Quite a nice day, relaxing, sort of productive even, in the sense that I didn't spend it glued to the computer.

Got to see Orientalische Reise. Malerei und Exotik im späten 19. Jahrhundert (exhibition on late 19th century Austrian orientalist painting).

Had a two hour walk through the Lainzer Tiergarten before, quite a dense mist that didn't clear up all day, especially further up on the hills, but very beautiful despite (or rather because of) that. The beech woods are glorious, both trees and ground a deep russet; the oak trees a muted grey-brown, blurred shapes fading into the mist. Carpet of leaves, shades of green, yellow and brown, colours brilliant from the moistness.

The exhibition was not big, but very much worth seeing, informative and well organised; some very beautiful landscapes and portraits, interesting not only for their exotic subject-matter. With orientalist paintings (even the less clicheed ones) there's always the danger that they're to a greater or lesser extent western projections and fantasies (mostly of the sexual kind), but most pictures chosen for this exhibition seemed not too bad in this respect, thankfully mostly lacking in harem scenes full of gratuitous nudity. If some of the portraits are erotic, it's done rather subtly and tastefully.

I've no idea how authentic the paintings by Leopold Carl Müller (which I especially liked) really are, but they don't seem too cliched and are strangely appealing for all their often detailed naturalism.

Leopold Carl Müller, Ein Sphinxgesicht von Heute; Figurenstudie einer gefässtragenden Araberin; Kamelmarkt in Kairo; Brunstbild eines jungen Arabers; Die Karawane; Volksschule in Oberägypten; Das Dorf Matarije

Tony (Anton) Binder, Tor zum Chons-Tempel in Karnak, Schwimmende Kinder an der Küste bei Alexandria
Carl Rudolf Huber, Wüstenmahlzeit; Sachmetstatuen im Mut-Tempel zu Karnak
Johann Victor Krämer, Motiv aus Tanger
Alphons Leopold Mielich, Das Schloss Qusair Amra; Bei den Mamelukengräbern von Kairo; Schule in Benassa
Alois Schönn, Haschim, der Assuaner; Geschmückte Mohrin

The Hermesvilla itself is a veritable orgy of historistic kitsch, but so over the top that it's almost charming (or else I'm in a very charitable mood today)...




Not too bad. Clark on red cryptonite is both tacky and creepy, and it might have been better if whatshisname could actually act, but well. Never mind that. Loved the scene where misunderstood!Clark runs off to Lex, whines, hints about his powers and wants Lex to go to Metropolis with him. Despite the fact that ultimately Lex's conscience gets the better or him and he doesn't act upon it, there is this moment where you just *see* Lex's baser instincts kick in and go Yes. Mine. Finally. He'll get the boy, he'll get the secrets. And just... yes. And fuck being good, being mature, being responsible, fuck his father and his games. They could do that. Leave everything and run away to Metropolis. For a moment he's not just playing Clark along there.

And while Lex is obviously well aware there is something wrong with this new and improved Clark and part of him doesn't like it, because he needs Clark as his conscience (or maybe more precisely, as the person to be good for), I also think another part of him momentarily does relish in it, because for once there will be no expectations, no impossible standards to live up to, not having to try and try and try and still fail.

Clark: 'Clark Kent and Lex Luthor. I like the sound of that.' ... don't we all? :: snerk ::

It was a good touch that they didn't let Clark get away with the 'the cryptonite made me do it' excuse...
(Speaking of which, though... red cryptonite!Clark is most definitely flirting with Lex, if in a slightly sluttishly and unpleasantly manipulative fashion. So are we to understand that the 'subtext' is actually canon? That innocent smalltown Clark is aware of Lex's attraction to him? That there actually is an attraction to be aware of? Questions, questions... )




yesyesyes.. :: purrs :: Now that was so much better. Granted, the annoying trend that (apparently in order to compensate for lack of intra-ship romance) Dylan has *at least* to kiss one never-to-be-seen-again woman per episode, no matter how badly it fits into the plot, continues, and the finding-your-Nietzschean roots theme was maybe laid on a bit too heavily, but over-all it was rather intense. Season 3 has certainly gained a little depth by finally revealing that the Nietzscheans weren't always a classical-age Athenian's idea of a Spartan - boring, dull, stupid, uncultured militarists.

Such a pity KHC decided to quit. :: sigh :: I'll miss him, and this is not only talking about the loss of eye candy. Tyr's such a perfect foil for Dylan's increasingly messianic attitude, despite himself being more than a little taken in. IMO some of the scenes between them are the best in the whole series, just crackling with all kinds of contradicting emotions. Power, trust, distrust, friendship, advantage, need, loneliness, dominance...

This episode had some damn sad moments... Tyr hitting Gaiton, once, twice, after Dylan told him to stop, just to prove that he doesn't take orders. Proving almost exactly the opposite. There was such a sense of futility and helplesness about this gesture, almost painful to watch.
Geiton (and in a sense, Tyr, too) desperate to re-connect to their heritage, wanting to be so much more, but only proving themselves as effective, ruthless killers all over again. Because that wasn't just taking out an enemy - that was thoroughly enjoying the killing. Bare hands, too.
Gaiton's naive, misplaced, but genuine enthusiasm, making him rash and stupid. It was obvious he was going to die the moment he mentioned Tyr's son (if not before, seeing as he knew about Tyr's involvement with the Dragans - but maybe until then he still had a chance on the basis of their new-found brotherhood), but sad to watch Tyr kill/loose yet another person he might have had some sort of connection with. No wonder he's so drawn to the Andromeda crew in spite of himself, there's only so much loneliness a person can put up with.