Scarlet napkins

Colta.ru continues to publish the diary of Dmitry Volchek, journalist and writer. Other fragments for 2016 can be read here , here , here and here .

October 23, Vienna

In the fog I come on Viennal. I'm late, there is no time to buy cigarettes. I decide that this is a sign from above, and I do not smoke.

Again, I recall the story of how my nanny lingered, my parents left, and someone began to knock on the stairs with a hammer-there were huge Lari with a junk. And I (about six years) thought that robbers and killers were trying to crack the door. I sobbed, confident that my minutes were numbered. I saw a nanny out of the window slowly, swinging like a duck, walking along the path to the house, but it was clear that I would be cut into pieces before she arrived. It was a day of acquaintance with death. Now clowns with cyclopic hammers are also frightened by children.

Girodi's film is excellent: as always, *boot of ugly old people in the Languedoc. Then the program of the deceased Peter Hatton, it is difficult to sit for an hour and a half in absolute silence, when the hall is full and every rustle is heard by everyone. The guy next to me constantly swallows saliva, and this intimate sound sounds obscene, as if we were lying in bed. Next, a film shot by a black woman in a Parisian hospital for refugees. The wise doctors from the first world in a broken language talk with primitive creatures and prescribe them mountains of antidepressants, like California housewives, and, like California housewives, refugees from Congo suffer from insomnia and longing.

The last film is the history of Italian left -wing radicals with excerpts from December 12th. They had worthy entertainment: they stripped naked and drove round dances, expropriating an exorbitantly expensive chicken.

The apartment I rented above all praise. New, without shadows of forgotten ancestors, on the U-3 line, under the roof; The key is waiting for me in the safe.

October 24

The only thing that is bad in Austria is that workers are allowed to work at 6:30 in the morning on the covenants of Kaiser. I wake up from the knock of jack hammers.

Que Faire ? The idea that eats me: to move to Marienbad and read the collected works of Remizov, Leonid Andreev, Bunin, Chekhov, all in a row. To immerse yourself in complete loneliness and inaction. Maybe even walking in an orange monastic robe. It is so tempting that it is impossible not to dream about it constantly.

(But at the same time, once a year, go to Vienna for a month and for a month to Venice. Well, to Berlin and Paris, of course.)

On November 10, the synemate will have a double evening of Benning, immediately after the American elections. Trump will win, and the world will roll into tartarara.

I wanted to watch six films, but I got three from the plan + one of the outside.

Memories of a friend of oliveira with quotes: a person in a pig’s mask plays on the violin, the girl rushes into the sea to the ripe corpse of her lover, the other carries a gutted chicken like her pi*du. In the final - a film, according to the intention of oliveirs about a prostitute, to whom the father burned his hands. He was a sadist until he became an old man.

The story of Folker Köppa about former Gader peasants, now they are engaged in environmental agriculture. We went to the wall to the wall. Berlin sell eggs. Then the boundaries closed, and they ran to Canada. When they were selected cattle and drove into cooperatives, the peasants hung. Now other concerns: in Argentina they grow soy and feed it chickens, the cheapest in the world born in factories, where everything is automated, only two people look after. Then they sell these chickens to Africa, destroying primitive livestock and ruin farmers, and from this Africans flee to Germany. German peasants are immeasurably smarter than Russian intellectuals, and this gap is irresistible.

I wanted to go to Rodrigiga, but instead I eat a vegan borsch on our MARKT. Then I find myself in the film by Sergei about Louis XIV and meet the Loznitsa. Serra removes as Sokurov, the faceless Jean-Pierre Leo turned into a noble old man.

Near the palace of Yevgeny Savoy there is a very beautiful car with an open door, a handsome man with a perfectly trimmed nape is digging in the glove compartment, and it smells so shocking from it that I gasp with amazement.

October 25

Again, builders raise me at 6:30. In the ceiling of the attic, the window, and the arrow of the tower crane is spinning right above my bed.

Film about Peter Handke: He wrote a wild number of books, the camera crawls on the pile for five minutes. She took off her tsap -shaped fool with an enthusiastic porridge in her head. Handke writes by hand, because there is nothing erotic in the computer, he himself turns his shirts with gold and scarlet threads, went to the funeral of Milosevich and loves to collect white mushrooms, because they creak beautifully when you cut them.

The Loznitsa answers the question that has long tormented me: why, if they ask me the way on the street, I can’t explain, even if I know (now I can already, but before it was a disaster). It turns out that many people born behind the iron curtain suffer from this. Instinct forces to see a spy in a passer -by and not give out military secrets. Amazingly accurate observation! In the first years after the “velvet revolution”, passers -by in Prague could not explain the simplest routes, only silently stomped like the penguins, and it was infuriated, but now I understand that the Soviet stamp chopped their mouth.

I remain on the film by Rodrigiga, this is a very poorly fictional mockery of Christianity: the patient with AIDS Saint Anthony E ** is with Jesus, then kills him, revives Thomas, inserting the rolls into his wounds, and goes into the pilgrimage to Paday, to the temple of his name. What does all this mean? Nonsense. Loznitsa runs away, jumping over the chairs, like a doe.

Excellent program of Cuban newsreel 1960-1961. Raul appears more often than a fidel, and Che is quite rare. Fidel comes to America and moves from the decent hotel to the Garlem Teresa, invites to the maid dinner and is found there with Khrushchev. Landing in Playa Hirona. The death of Lumumba. Gagarin in Gzhatsk, squirrel and arrow. The tricks of the Yankees. Inequality in cemeteries. Only the announcer speaks, there are no other votes, but suddenly the sound turns on, and the illiterate old woman 106 years answers the questions of youth, who decided to change his fate for the sake of the revolution. I will go to Cuba only when the Communists will hang and return the Americans.

In the concerthouse on the occasion of tomorrow's holiday, getting rid of footcloths (the last Soviet soldier left Austrian land) is played by the Austrian anthem. Everyone gets up, including me & countless Japanese tourists. Bruch's violin concert and the sixth symphony of Brookner. I bought a stupid ticket for the “stage”, this is from the side of the stall and too far from the orchestra, I can’t concentrate, but it is clear that everything is unsuccessful and Soviet soldiers will return.

The last night film in Urania: the story of a jazz musician Lee Morgan, who in 1972, shot a jealous wife in the club. It would be possible not to look, but I am still happy. The pre -holiday metro works all night. The crowds are drunk. On the platform, Swedenplaz smells incomprehensibly marijuana. The head is sometimes spinning, but in General I feel much better. I do not smoke three days.

October 26

On the day of getting rid of the Soviet troops at 6:30 they do not rattle, but by ten they begin to cook and drill again. I miss my train and see on the platform, like a terrible bully, similar to Datsik, chases for a gray subtile man and yells at him: “Arschloch!” The audience is removed, but it all ends in the world. Austria's Day! I am going to the film by Claire Denis about Rightt, I have already forgotten the story of Pascal Ogier, which died shortly after the North Bridge. And this scene, when she travels around the lion three times on Denfer Roshro and threatens him with a fist! I will soon see the lion again if I behave well. Bul Ogier says that Rightt is very hidden.

After the long conversations of Serge Daney and R. I go to the Vienna Museum, and on the way to the Karlsplaz something is happening, I still do not understand what, because it is completely immersed in the phone. It seems that I knocked down some kind of glass structure on the ground, I hear laughter: a crowd of excursionists and a guide with a microphone, I knocked down something important, but I can’t understand anything, I apologize, it seems that some brown bottle. It even seems to me that this is a draw like those showed in airplanes, entertaining stupid passengers of transatlantic flights. But I hurry to the exhibition "Sex in Vienna". Here is the crowd, the burghers decided to spend the weekend on debauchery. There are entertaining things: the story of a children's ballet used in the 19th century by pedophiles, a belt for boys, preventing masturbation, cardboard from a criminal case, instituted in the Nazi police on a guy who put it under his knees when sucked x*and. The case says that such cardboard can serve as evidence of the homosexuality of their owners. There is also a cage from a sex club, which is now being repaired, but will soon work again. Closed for repairs and Kunsthaus (until the fall of 2018 - will I live?), And the ESSL Museum, it turns out, went bankrupt and closed at all, so I was at the last exhibition, without knowing it myself.

I have time to eat a soy burgger. The vegan cafe is full of youth, gay pair (beautiful blond) casts incomprehensible glances at me. As Arto said, "they welded and eat a vagina in green sauce."

I go to the Cuban program: 1962-1963, the style is changing, more and more chaos. The beach sketch on Kopakaban, then the Yugoslav Shapito, then Fidel on the hunt with Khrushchev. Very interesting: H. feels F.'s boots, then F. kills two ducks. Not a word about Soviet missiles. The last series is a hurricane that demolishes half the Ostrov, and imperialists rejoice at this.

Student Nurses : LSD and free love in California.

The exhibition of photographs of Patti Smith: the crutches of Frida Kalo, the scarecrow of the bear Leo Tolstoy, the white bedspread on the bed of Kitsa, the grave of Grandfather Burrose in St. Louis, all black and white, as if stolen from an old criminal case. "I'm not a photographer, I am an amateur." On Tuesday will be her concert, but I will leave.

I order a divine poppy cake, and suddenly blood begins to go from my nose. The whole napkin, which was brought to the pies, the exhausted gay officer, scarlet with blood, beautiful color. The head is spinning if I stand straight. Ahead of the day X when I fall on the street. But I think not about this, but about how to go into Turin (there is an option - to Milan, but from there by train), and to the premiere of Benning. And on November 5, you can go to Brno to look for the lost house of Jean to Zhenya.

Despite the warnings from above, I go to the Nokturama, and this is something monstrous in delirium, a parody of the novel Glamorama. Bonello is sharp and similar to the aging Pierrot. I run away to the film about Robert Franca, his early photos about Alabama and other bad America were quite brilliant, then he began to show off and shoot worse. His daughter crashed on an airplane in Guatemala, his son went crazy and died. “I love everything along the edges. I do not want to walk around the middle of the road. " At first, the police detained him (“speaks with a foreign accent”), America was Scary , then it became better, but I don’t understand anything about America.

I’m going home on a saving with a driver from Dagestan, who graduated in St. Petersburg, a financial and economic institute. He shares his thoughts about life.

October 27

The best film of Viennale is “The House of Atonement”, the Fortean Investigation of the Fire in the Ring Taurus in 1881; Miraculously did not burn Freud, then opened his office in a house built on the ashes, but he left when his patient rushed from the roof. Before the film shows a short film about Texas, completely changing my route: you need to go to Marfu, to the Donald Jadda Museum.

I buy a shirt in a blue speck (I think I have exactly the same) and a dubious bomb: it’s not at all what I wanted, but there is no strength to go shopping. But I’m going to Albertin to an exhibition of pointerists, and I don’t like anything there except a few paintings by Van Gogh, I almost fall into one (green sky and an old woman from a psychiatric hospital): either a stand -up syndrome, or mysterious ailment knocks me down. In the Russian pavilion "Princess" on our MARKTA EM vegan borsch. From non -resources, it became much better, but from general weakness I shamefully fall asleep on the film by Peter Hatton about Shipbreaking Yard in Pakistan. It is impossible to watch without sound. And from the incoherent van bin about refugees from Burma, I’m completely running away. I also have time to see the Devil and Daniel Webster, the American imitation of Murnau, shot by the actor playing in Faust.

October 28

Two Cuban programs: Fidel and Plisetskaya, Marseille Marso and Bobby Fisher in Havana, death of Camilo Senfuegos, the death of Che Guevara. It was shot luxurious, like Anges Varda or Godard's film. It is interesting to watch Fidel. He looks like an uncertain neurasthenic, he is hard to perform, he is loose mumble without any charm. He runs away from the rostrum, like a crook, shouting a "homeland or death." And this miserable bearded man retained power for 60 years, survived all his enemies - Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson - and all friends, too, in the chronicle around him and Raul - only dead. Why did the Lord decide to give these invulnerability to these brothers? There should be some meaning in this. So with Putin the same thing.

The operators take off the military parade, the speech of Fidel, and suddenly carry a woman on a stretcher (apparently a fainting with delight) or everything applauds, but the camera lingers on a person who does not clap, because his hand is in a gypsum. The progressive singer from France, who came to support Cuba, is, and the camera first shows the crooked fingers of her left leg in the slot of the sandals. Sabotage!

While I was sitting on our MARKTA in a lousy Chinese restaurant, my head was spinning so that I almost fell in my nose in a plate. Caesecess?

In the evening in the concerthouse-the essay of the composer-punk of Bernard Gander “Cold corpse with thirteen terrible scars” (“Cold Cadaver with 13 Scary Scars”) and discordia Michael Vertmuner (relative of Lina V.?). Discordia is much better than a corpse, similar to the optimistic works of George Sviridov. Furore. We go along the night bridge on which there are four huge plastic nose. In the apartment (a neighbor from Grindra 18 meters from me, like in prison or brothel), finally I find tolerable tickets to Turin.

October 29

No wonder Karina asked me about Castelpucci yesterday. He opened his site and discovered that he puts the “black veil of the priest” in Antwerp with William Defoe. In the church! I buy tickets for both the veil and the premiere of Benning. Purkua Non?

A film about Tony Conrad, who composed music for Flaming Creatures and who died in April. He wanted to exist without money at all, eating chicken hearts. And he came up with Flikr, not Gaisin.

With Karina at 21r Haus , we meet with Anna Ermolaeva, who 30 years ago was a small anti -Soviet girl, and now she has become a famous Austrian artist and is exhibited next to Ai Weivee (he has a million noseeads, torn from the teapots symbolizing the bitterness of exile, she has two pyramids “both white”), and we are talking about how she fled through it through it Poland in Vienna, lived in a refugee camp, and then she became a star and Belvedere buys her work.

We return to the Karlsplaz: Cubans, then the North Bridge, which is Bulus Bul. In 1985, when I watched this film for the first time in the French consulate, I was shocked by its incomprehensibility, I did not understand anything at all. But even today, when the world has become more transparent, I also understand almost half, although the hoter explained that it was Don Quixote. I make a portrait of a cooler, infernal, with gray wires, leaving directly to Twin Pixes. Who would tell me in 1985 that this is a story with such a continuation (or already in the final?).

Evening: Kertis's solid film based on the novel by idiot Hemingway, then half an hour of mediocre nonsense about the Daft Punk group. At midnight, dinner in Marriott (Vegan Burger).

October 30

After yesterday Kertis (courageous men and feminine women), it is gratifying to watch the works of students of the California Museum of Arts. The first film is about gays, the second-about the search for a white-skinned girl of the African American grandmother, the third is about the difficulties of adapting an elderly emigrant from Korea, the fourth is the conceptual alteration of the “Tokyan history” finals, the fifth-along the feminist line. It’s good that the times of Hemingway have passed. And if Hillary wins (a gap with a Trump 2%), the story can be considered complete. Then the film about the producer Bernard Nathan, the owner of the Pathe studio, who died in Auschwitz, was an entertaining Italian film, something between Alonso and “Night Breens”, about the wolf and the pale girl in the spirit of Konrad, and I go pancakes with Polikarov, which looks great and works as a writer of texts for computer games.

October 31

The cardiologist sends the report: nothing is found. I feel pretty better, although my head is spinning. The last morning in the Viennese apartment: I sleep 9 hours, which is very unusual, I run out of the supermarket, buy raspberries for breakfast and go to the Leopold museum for an exhibition of African and Polynesian figurines and masks. I also have something: the figurines of the twins who secretly pulled me by the shoulders when we left the country of the Dogons-they are made after the death of the Gemini from the people of Yorub, endowed with magical gift, and the shaman rubs them with a bears, as well as Nkisi , fetishes, binding two worlds. Есть еще akuaba , кукла плодородия из Ганы с широким лицом-солнцем, и (в моей коллекции такой, кажется, нет) blolo bla — изображение призрачной жены, которая имеется у каждого мужчины. Вместо фиделевой Кубы нужно поехать в Конго, во владения племени куба, известного своей изощренностью. Хожу по выставке почти три часа кругами, потом еду в «Уранию» на «Noroit» Риветта (выступает его то ли вдова, то ли дочь, зал пустой), это гениальный фильм, непостижимый, с костюмами-галлюцинациями, малиновая кожа, сиреневый шелк.

Надо поменять жизнь: каждый вечер смотреть по фильму Риветта, все заново, потому что 20 лет назад я не понимал и половины того, что понимаю сейчас, хотя и сейчас ничего не понимаю.

Поликаров уезжает на Центральное кладбище, а я обедаю с Кариной на Нашмаркте (продавец, у которого я покупал сыр четыре дня назад, узнает меня и спрашивает, хорош ли сыр), потом идем смотреть дом Лооса, но он, вопреки гугл-картам, закрыт, заходим в соседнюю церковь, очень темную и тревожную, здесь впервые исполнялся Реквием Моцарта, и в честь этого события у дверей висит бронзовый череп. Ставлю две свечи: Святому семейству и Богоматери с обещанием не курить.

Уезжать из Вены не хочется, но впереди новые приключения. Оказалось, что и Гироди, и Родригеша покажут на квир-фестивале в Праге, можно было не спешить. Возвращаюсь в пустом автобусе, только из глубин доносится голос смуглого юноши, беспробудно разговаривающего по телефону: «Салам алейкум».

1 ноября, Прага

У Трампа все больше процентов, и я не сомневаюсь, что он победит. Выстраиваю почти невозможный маршрут по Техасу: через Марфу (покупаю билет на огромную экскурсию в поместье Дональда Джадда), Розуэлл, где разбилась летающая тарелка, через испанские миссии и каньоны с петроглифами.

Разоряется компания, торговавшая нашими книгами со времен царя Гороха. Все приходит в упадок, но мы несем наше знамя вперед и вперед на погост.

2 ноября

Сажусь за правку гигантского текста Ильянена, лежавшего два года, и, стиснув зубы, переставляю скобки и запятые. В гр. возникает человек в ста метрах, спрашивающий, нет ли поблизости вольного пера. Это клерк, трудящийся в канцелярии, как Кафка. В несбыточности отсылаю текст в верстку, а заодно покупаю билеты на квир-фестивальный фильм «Chemsex» о промискуитете (с дебатами). Надо быть чуть умнее и посмотреть трезво: листва давно отшумела. Но кажется, что меня сводит с ума антибиотик, который преназально наводит видения. 20 лет назад, когда я шел по Вацлаваку и увидел студента топлес с прилипшим к позвоночнику животом, я понял, что все кончено. Зато есть другие сносные вещи: кино, сатанизм, путешествия.

Вечер австралийского авангардиста Ричарда Туохи, бородатого человека, которого я уже где-то видел — кажется, в этом же зале синематеки. Он окопался в Оломоуце, замечательно говорит, гладкая и внятная речь, но такие фильмы я не могу полюбить — эксперименты по запихиванию пленки в растворы, увеличивание и уменьшение зернистости и света в тандеме с дебилообразной женой. При этом изображено ничто: пятна, загогулины, идущие по улице люди. А где же Эрос и Танатос?

3 ноября

Несмотря на рекламу, на Орфа в Нацтеатр приходит непристойно мало народу, рядом со мной пустые плюшевые кресла. Постановка в чешском переводе, и этот комичный язык подавляет музыку. В первом отделении — опера «Умница», костюмы вдохновлены Бобом Уилсоном, правый рукав короля превращается в гигантскую улитку, а лица и наряды придворных расчерчены тюремной решеткой. Странные новшества: иногда в зале вспыхивают люстры, и трое мошенников в строгих костюмах выбегают на подиум и выкрикивают пошлости. У них мобильные телефоны и пакеты с кокаином. Вторая опера, «Луна», непостижимо перенесена в ГДР. Мне очень нравится этот сюжет, в нем есть все, что нужно: четыре парня украли луну, каждый забрал по четвертинке в могилу, и луна осветила царство мертвых. К чему добавилась ГДР с пчелкой Майей, Песочным человеком, Виннету и трабантами? Хотя ясно: в аду располагается Карл-Маркс-Штадт, бесспорно, самый уродливый город на свете.

Но прибывает святой Петр с огромным бараном на плечах и забирает луну.

4 ноября

Разговариваю с Ольгой Кучкиной. Ей 80 лет, и она написала книгу об отношениях Путина и его бывшей жены, придумав все обстоятельства. В час ночи от тоски заказываю плюшевые ботинки Golden Goose, сотканные лучшими мастерицами в Бангладеш из солнечных лучей и гагачьего пуха. Когда же наступит расплата за все?

To be continued.