XII
The next morning, bursting with inspiration, Cindy was more determined than ever to abuse the program. Fruits of his impulsiveness, the changes it has imposed on the whole team has surprised more than one: abolish plans could no longer find favor in his eyes, proposed plans unpublished results no doubt his thoughts night. Thus, during the night that has become obvious to her: a section of the clip must decide stylistically with the rest, as in my song comes when the orchestra.
I remember during the recording of Little Earthquakes, Doug, my engineer, had suggested introducing an orchestral section in the last verse of Winter. My first reaction was a refusal because the idea of Doug destroyed the sobriety that seemed appropriate in an intimate song that I composed at the piano and solo instrument designed for this. With his customary diplomacy, he had not defended his suggestion unduly. He probably knew we should never interfere with my own conception of the songs. Only after the recording of it was revived by his idea, intending to re-record a new version of Winter by including in the last verse, which had an orchestra, he said, give the song a higher dimension. I finally agreed, as a curiosity, a transposition of any orchestra I was playing the part originally at Bösendorfer. He took me to go to the obvious. This version does not diminish the emotional intensity conveyed initially by the piano solo. Although it has not yet been to the agenda to replace the orchestral version at the previous, Doug made me listen to an arrangement with its machines that involved only the orchestra at the end of the song. At the first hearing of Winter as amended, chills me convinced it was the best version. Not only the unexpected burst of the orchestra at the end, mixed over the keyboard of the first version, multiplies the emotion, but his sudden death, just before returning to grace the final chorus, where the piano solo reasserts itself, is a magical moment Doug extended with a silence of three seconds.
Such silence has not just escaped that Cindy was interpreted in terms of its sensitivity:-
During this silence, everything will be black, then resuming the piano at last chorus will stoop panel that covered the screen and reappear your face ...
I perceived a shadow under the eye of the photographer. As a doubt. On its face, was engaging a battle between his visions of the most expensive and the uncertainty of their realization. Similarly, when my friend turned away from me to give instructions to the chief op ', I realized that the plan in question would a delicate problem. Looking
clip of Cindy Palmano is never an economy of means implemented that impresses, but the lovely atmosphere it succeeds in spite of everything, often to be translated, so that harmony shapes and colors seem to be the subject of the film itself. I realize too, since she leads me, of my limitations as an actress. Without the magic of editing to which it devotes hours, I express no quarter of the emotions she is.
Taking me aside, Lesley stamped with glee. Our friend had given him carte blanche to make up that could also be exacerbated as possible. She walked on my lips stick a bright red that particularly stood out with an incredible intensity of my dyed red hair.
"It is like how I love you, me she confessed, her two hands on my cheeks, while his lips kissing my forehead.
Ben, who had wanted to come this morning to attend the end of filming, was ecstatic when he saw my face in the wake of his mother illusionist.
-You 're nice like that. You're a grownup now.
Lesley and I are waiting outside the charming naivety of his child. This reassured me about my credibility as that girl. I was so afraid of appearing ridiculous in this part of the video I was ready to receive any compliments, even the most involuntary.
In a corner of the studio, stage technicians staring each other three metal panels that opened in évantail. They were then covered three long black cloth that should form the backdrop to a sequence that Cindy had on her book titled "The hair".
Hugh Turner, a landscape that Cindy had met in Tokyo, arrived with a glass under his arm and fitted with electrical equipment for the least mysterious. While talking with the director, Lesley quietly came to me to present it.
-I would have brought you a day at one of its openings. Each year, it was entitled to a new concept. The last time he created an installation inspired by Japanese gardens. Is in contact with Japanese culture, frequented during his many visits, he brought his thoughts on the art of botany in miniature. You knew you, what the Japanese gardens are a cosmogony portable?
cosmo-A ... what?
Oh, do not worry, Tori, the expression is not me, you worry doubts. A portable cosmogony is the cosmos that would fit in one hand, no larger than a suitcase. The Japanese, themselves, have concentrated on the scale of a garden, as a representation of human perfection. They see this as a backdrop, or tapestry, the highest human thoughts. In the art of Japanese garden expresses the philosophy of the sage in search of fulfillment.
When Hugh Turner walked towards us and I shook his outstretched hand, he had to feel feverish as it was quick to put me at ease.
-No discomfort please, it's an honor for me to serve the next movie of Tori Amos. In exchange, my next opening, you grant me the right to use three of your songs as a band sound.
I asked for an explanation of the glass he had brought with him.
-Ca is Cindy tell us. She only knows how she will use my invention.
Ah, because you have filed a patent for the glass?
-Absolutely, it's a project I've been working for months and dear to my heart: I designed a miniature domestic emissions. My idea is to allow individuals to insulate their homes in an area sealed glass. Until then, tell me, that's very commonplace. The novelty is that you can easily remove the glass and change at will and what is wants to see the presentation. Yes, but the trick, my icing on the cake is a completely new process of my invention: an electrical system connected to the glass, which would send water vapor inside and would seep in varying degrees of intensity with the adjuster that you see there. Things that are exposed and are rendered in moody fogging. The droplets become part of the show.
Hugh, to enlighten, set the glass on a horizontal support before installing behind a plant that Cindy had brought. After connecting the system, he asked me to dive I look through the glass. That's when the moisture began to form on glass, a light mist that transformed at will the still life that I observed in authentic tableau. The fog then intensified as the smile of Hugh, proud of himself, showing me the way he was the only one to control the phenomenon. Then water started to flow as if under the effect of a downpour, so doing a painting that would have liquefied after he had spilled on her buckets of boiling water. The show reminded me that anyone of us has never failed to enjoy a rainy day or snow, watching the droplets slide down a window, poetic performance, banal as hypnotic. I was not at my surprise. By manipulating the controller yet, Hugh turned the rain into ice that has pasted on the glass, fixing the same time the plant. Vision to give the icy chill.
Cindy came in turn explain the creation of Hugh haunted her dreams for weeks: my face on several occasions he has appeared across the screen fogged up windows of one of his crying. She also dreamed of plants wasting away inside a greenhouse in miniature. The recurrence of his dreams has decided to integrate the video of Winter. Puzzled, I just smiled, once again amazed by the richness of the vision of Cindy, who populate his work. We often wonder about my texts found obscure, but I remain convinced that the art of Cindy is far more mysterious and strange. Under a light look, naive and childish recount, his works exposed the unspeakable dimension of our regrets distraught.
Our work that morning received a rather serene ambience. Any team officiated in relative harmony with which I am still extremely sensitive.
Ideas Cindy, a touching simplicity, did not require much effort. Shoot me through the misted glass, three meters away from my face, had no major difficulty since the axis of the camera does not vary an inch. On the Monitor, I could check on my face the effect produced by the glass oozing. I thought the glass surface of a frozen lake when crystals enclose etiolated bubbles. Cindy pointed out to me that some of the more blurred the glass, which make it seem more distant in my face, create, it's amazing, the illusion of multiple dimensions within a plan, however close, which normally should flatten the image, cancel the depth of field and, consequently, relief. Cindy has stepped taken to test several ideas: she asked me to appear inside a circle with only the disk would be dry. Hugh had brought with him his tools could heat the glass at my face in there circular metal plating apparatus. The fog around the circle to the edge of camouflaging my face. While I sang, the photographer claimed:
-In your right hand, draw the female symbol.
At midmorning, we were so well advanced that director launched in the wings: More than three-
plans!
The enthusiasm manifested itself among the technical team. Karen, left behind the Monitor during the series of shots we had to chain, came to congratulate me.
-Tori, I can not wait for you to see your clip. This glass is great. Looks like a still life ... And your face in the middle ... it's beautiful ... is ...
Cindy was the only good to stay away from the general satisfaction. Although seemingly serene, his lips never opened. She threw frequent glances at the Monitor. Sometimes I was afraid that under the impetus of a new idea, it forces us to make another plan. I could not help me throw in effect at the beginning of the evening, when it is time for me to fly my friend booked me. I imagined the anguish of my guys if I had delayed my return. As the thought of my musicians began to take more and more space, I walked into the studio, trying not to get overwhelmed by anxiety. Anxiety about what to do?
Since the signing of my contract with WEA, I could put some order in my life. The preparation of a tour requires a huge personal investment. Around this event, all kinds of people gravitate, intermediaries, and are making possible the artistic events. But beyond the huge logistical set in motion a tour gives me a sense of order and harmony. I like the repetition of the days when your bus staff arrived in a city where you invest the space of a concert hall, you take ownership of the earliest sound settings, rehearsals without an audience, often the magic power of concerts themselves, finally, after a phase relief in the hotel, the time that the material removed once found the holds of the buses, departure for a new destination, the camaraderie that causes, among my guy, fits of giggles or comical outbursts of delusion ...
Why did I make a planned departure from this life on the tour? Why I joined Cindy in ignorance of what she was going to ask me? Why did I take the risk of missing my last concert and force the organizers of the city to its cancellation?
Everything went well this morning, plans chained themselves, we approached the end. So why have I felt overtaken by doubt? I thought the sketches scribbled by Cindy nervously over last night, an obsession that the crossing, condemned forever to represent the same rectangle striped in black ink. I knew the whole clip would lead to the opening in the wall that I would cross again. What Cindy doubted it? Why is my second crossing in the opposite direction of the wall he had provoked in Cindy insomnia?
technicians, moving their equipment, have joined a corner of the room. Thrown on screens that covered the descent, a black cloth was spread liberally on the ground. It was a facility that is used by photographers to produce commissioned portraits, the black cloth background for Neutral. I could not avoid making the link between the dark color of the fabric and the black rectangles on the sketch of my friend: was this the place left empty by the death or death itself on the lookout for prey ? I remembered Cindy's reflections about his father, saying she could never trust him but she had burned the last night of him screaming, helplessly, as one throws a bottle into the sea in a final start saving.
The orchestral part of Winter, Cindy explained, is making her desires of flames blazing reminder of the emotions that run through it several times a day and she needs to evacuate when the cup runneth over.
-The outpouring of the orchestra produces a transmutation of chromatic colors, she explained to his chief op '. I want it burn, black and red, passions, life drive ... Tori, I bless your hair!
This was not the first time my friend extolled the redhead that I am. Lesley checking makeup, she repeated, again ... More ... More.
The plan required a slow preparation. Cindy wanted to reproduce his meticulously storyboard. A painting by Van Gogh, who obsesses over the years, he served as a model, especially the incredible force that liberates cornfield whipped by the wind. On many sketches she had drawn on black and orange yellow grass. The plan she outlined the principle technicians initially appeared to be fairly simple to make, that's what told me later the chief op 'who thought he would shoot a field a windy day. However, Cindy was required in the same plane as the field starts to turn red before being discovered, from the next shot, it was my hair. However, such effects require a filming studio. Two fans were used to a few inches of my hair. That I may be well exposed, he had to lie on a table, his head very edge so that my hair bent in a vacuum. But the director did not seem convinced. The two fans do not brew enough air. My hair stayed too rigid. The result has become much more interesting when we combined the effect of the two fans Hair dryer borrowed from our makeup artist Lesley Chilka. Cindy's face lit up, so in a manner so shocking that it is no longer the woman I saw the girl but I have never yet known. Her smile, spontaneous and unrestrained, invigorated me. Despite the madness of the plan she had conceived, I began to believe it. But Cindy
requirements that everyone on the board is forced to bend. She loves it when the special effects are performed live in front of the camera, as at the time of Melies, his favorite filmmaker. For my hair battered by adverse winds suddenly fills up with blood, technicians have used gelatin to red spots. As the photographer wanted to shoot in continuity with the changing color, gelatins have been changed during the filming, which required both of our lighting fast execution without fault if they did not want to end up second-degree burns. When I finally
found the result to the first assembly, I was blinded by the magic of cinema. The plan, very close, combined with the black background that destroys all sense of proportion, creating the illusion that my hair is whipped by the wind field. It took me a while to become aware of an effect that was first escaped my attention. The tip of my hair was oriented towards the sky, while on the set, they hung in the air.
-A breeze, I replied Cindy. The camera that you could see was returned. She filmed your hair upside down.
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