This evening I went to see Performance here in Melbourne where I am for a week. Its a beautiful film which moved me, and I was left with a nostalgia for New York which couldn't be shaken off even while walking through these lovely streets of Carlton. Its a poetic and moving portrait of musicians undergoing a great transition in their lives, both personally and professionally. It is a postcard too, of Central Park in the whiteness of winter when only the intrepid go running around its reservoir. I, myself did for many years. And throughout the film there is Beethoven, whose late sonatas make one weep inside. The Frick Collection which I know well, and used to visit often, also plays a pivotal role in the film. Christopher Walken is remarkable, but then, they all are: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Catherine Keener, Mark Ivani and Imogen Poots. Don't miss you if you love Beethoven, and New York!
Watching it I am reminded yet again of the great divide between the erudite world Classical music on the one hand, and the Art world on the other. How could one possibly compare the discipline of playing Beethoven, (and all that implies) with the fabrication, and then the consequent sale of a large red valentine by Jeff Koons? What happened?