Smiling in Slow Motion

Smiling in Slow Motion

Derek Jarman
Copyright Date: 2011
Edition: NED - New edition
Pages: 400
https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.5749/j.ctttv1c1
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  • Book Info
    Smiling in Slow Motion
    Book Description:

    Written between 1991 and 1994, and ending just two weeks before his death, Derek Jarman’s entries review friends and enemies as he races through his last years painting, filmmaking, gardening, and annoying his targets through his involvement in radical politics. Infused throughout with familiar honesty and wry humor, Smiling in Slow Motion is a document of endeavor, remembrance, and love.

    eISBN: 978-0-8166-7692-7
    Subjects: Art & Art History

Table of Contents

  1. Front Matter
    (pp. i-iv)
  2. Editor’s Preface
    (pp. v-vi)
  3. 1991
    (pp. vii-62)

    For days now I have tried to start this diary, but the clatter of my existence has interrupted; the first mark on the page eludes me, it is easy to put off.

    HB drove to Dungeness, it grew so cold we muffled up to visit the swans’ nest, at the Long Pits, with its seven small cygnets. A dead fox decomposing in the shallows, a swaying mass of green algae surrounded by flotillas of voracious black tadpoles, devouring it to the bone. HB throws a stone in the water, sending ripples through this predatory army. ‘Father Nature,’ he says, ‘the...

  4. 1992
    (pp. 63-282)

    I woke early this morning washed out and rather dazed. The old year broken like the waves that are running high along the Ness.

    I’m wondering where Derek could have ended up, perhaps corkscrewed on a sofa with some of the art school boys. He certainly hit Littlestone like a bomb from another decade and rocked the old house — he primed himself before going on a curious mixture of Nina Simone (rather maudlin) and a scratchy rendition of Beethoven’s Ninth recorded in 1942 by Furtwangler.

    I know I'll not keep this diary up, it will flag like the cocky boy...

  5. 1993
    (pp. 283-387)

    Up at seven on a freezing, frost-bound morning, the nuclear power station floating above the mists, which hug the ground. The cold has flattened the broad-leaved plants; they lie collapsed like dishcloths in the silvery frosted rime. The frost as blue-grey as the santolina.

    Nigel Terry telephones - says he can’t stand London any longer and is contemplating moving back to Cornwall. Thirty years of the city growing more inhospitable and its inhabitants ever uglier have finally persuaded him, he says he feels unsafe in the streets.

    Alasdair rings in despair from his estate at the end of the Blackwall...

  6. 1994
    (pp. 387-389)

    New Year’s Day

    Howard and Sarah are off to London. The play is doing well in Brussels.

    Birthday

    Fireworks.

    HB true love....

  7. Illustrations
    (pp. 390-391)
  8. Acknowledgements
    (pp. 392-392)