Reykjavík Grapevine - 15.08.2008, Blaðsíða 8

8 | REYKJAVÍK GRAPEVINE | ISSUE 12—2008
INTERvIEW BY SIguRðuR kJARTAn kRISTInSSon — pHoTo BY gAS
After a few minutes wait I see the dark haired
director step out of the storm with an unsettled
look on her face. The first question she asks me,
after having a sip of her macchiato, is whether this
wasn’t supposed to be the hottest summer in Ice-
landic history? After an interesting chit-chat about
the flaky climate in Iceland we move over to the
main issue: her controversial offspring.
judging by the results, the filming procedure
must have been adventurous, but how did
you get the idea? How did it all begun?
Well, to tell you the truth it came into existence
subsequently to sort of a melancholia but me and
Jean-Luc Gaget had been writing a film which
didn’t turn out to be a success and so it was never
made. We were sitting at a small café in Paris ex-
tremely blue and I said: “let’s write another film,
just for pleasure”. He asked me: “What kind of
movie?” And I replied: “A film with Didda, Ólafía
Hrönn, Julien Cotteraeu and you know, all these
people”. And so we decided to think up a story.
Maybe it’s stupid to say but as it was written for
pleasure it turned out be nothing but that. It’s the
truth.
The story itself is based more or less on real
background, how did that occur to you?
Well the background isn’t completely genuine, but
you know, a little. I wanted to make kind of a “road
movie” and I also wanted to turn my back to the
fact that most movies concerning drugs always
portray it as some evil phenomenon. And so I
made this flick where normal people are smoking
and it’s really not a big deal. The whole concept of
wine being OK in movies but as soon as one lights
up a joint it’s horrific, is all-in-all stupid.
There have been substantial rumours in Ice-
land that the actors have contributed more
to the creation of their characters than is
given up, for example in the cases of Didda,
Krummi and Erpur. Is that only a castle made
of sand?
Yes, solely. Or at least I haven’t heard anything
about it. I actually asked Didda
if she weren’t scared people
would think it was her own story,
but of course her sons portray
the characters of her character’s
son and all, but she didn’t care.
Didda doesn’t care what people
think.
[I noticed the pranksterish smile
on Sólveig’s face while she elab-
orated about these rumours and
soon realised there was no point
in asking any further. But wheth-
er they are factual or fabricated,
the scenario seems so smash-
ingly real that I suppose it really
doesn’t matter.]
While I watched the film I
really sensed a great deal of
realism. And I think I wasn’t
the only one who bought the concept. Is this
a goal you try to attain always or was it rather
random?
When I pull that off I really feel like I’ve succeeded
so it’s a general goal I would say. Like any other I
need a wonderful script, but I always let the ac-
tors bring their own “gifts” to it, in order to make
it more real and dynamic. To begin with I was a
little scared when all these people had all these
ideas, but nowadays I’m more at peace with that.
And more, I love it. Of course I have the last call
but it’s always inspiring to see what people are
thinking. Especially with this film. It was easy for
it was shot in HD so we didn’t have to worry about
spending vast amounts of money on actors trying
to be funny.
Now that you’ve done only four feature films
but a whole lot of documentaries, how are
your aims evolving? Do you plan on moving
entirely over to the feature section of the
spectrum?
Well, not necessarily. I like doing a bit of this and
bit of that. What I like about documentaries is your
urgent need to listen what people have to say. Not
just boss actors around and try to get what you
want from them. In the documentaries you have
to wait and see what your locutors have to offer
but not the opposite. The crew is also much small-
er than in the big productions and everybody gets
really close, which lets you experiment a lot more.
It’s more peaceful and you have more freedom.
You’ve never lived long-term in Iceland so I’m
wondering what is it that draws you “home”
and makes you wanna make
Icelandic movies with Icelan-
dic actors and an Icelandic
crew?
I’m born in the Westmann Is-
lands, and my mother is Ice-
landic so I came here every
summer in my youth. My sister
who formerly lived in Paris has
moved over here and opened
the boutique “Kisan” so you
could say all my family lives
over here which has to be quite
an attraction. When I’m plan-
ning a movie I often think about
how thoroughly Paris has been
filmed which makes me want to
film somewhere else. And Ice-
land seems to be the most up-
and-coming candidate.
Now you have shot on both french and Ice-
landic ground, is it different? And if so, could
you grasp the basic difference between Ice-
landic and french co-workers?
Well, as you might have imagined the French are
more about talking, always deliberating this and
that, getting feedback and opinions on how to
perform which can be OK, but the Icelanders are
less about talking and more about doing. It’s hard-
wired in Icelanders I think, if you don’t just do it, it
won’t happen.

The battle between Icelandic dir-
ectors is getting more and more
fierce everyday but this August
the half-Icelandic Parisian Sólveig
Anspach defies the patriarchy pre-
vailing in the Icelandic film scene
and premiers the feature film
“Back Soon”. The protagonist is a
florid marijuana dealer and a lot
of controversy has surrounded the
piece. Grapevine caught up with
her on the director’s weekend stop
in Iceland to promote the flick on
the very appropriate inter-cultural
premises of Café Cultura
THe wHoLe concepT of wIne Be-
Ing ok In MovIeS BuT AS Soon AS
SoMeone LIgHTS up A JoInT IT’S
HoRRIfIc, IS ALL-In-ALL STupID.
An Ode to Marijuana
Sólveig Anspach talks about her latest film, Back Soon
movie still: locAl celebs fondle A Goose.
NAME:
Sólveig Anspach
DOB:
September 8, 1960
OCCuPATION:
Film Director
fILMS:
Louise Michel (2009)
Back Soon (2008)
Stormy Weather (2003)
Made in the USA (2001)
Haut les coeurs! (1999)
Que personne ne bouge!
(1999)
Barbara, tu n’es pas coupable
(1998)
Meditation, basically, is the act of ordering your
conscious mind to shut the fuck up. It drops the
mental engine down a gear and allows for com-
plete focus or simple relaxation. If done correctly,
it effectively empties your mind of bidden thought.
This discipline has been employed by various spir-
itual movements for thousands of years. In Islam,
certain sects use music and movement to achieve
this altered state of consciousness. In both Hin-
duism and Buddhism drumming and chant have
been utilised to aid meditation and bring on a
state of trance. Christianity and Judaism prac-
tice chant and ritualised movements to enhance
prayer and to lose oneself from the conscious
state. The experience of separation from the self
found in deep meditation has long been held to
be a step toward the divine. This heightened level
of consciousness and the tools to reach it can be
found in the secular world as well. You can find it,
for instance, in Black Flag.
As the 1980’s wore on Black Flag, the semi-
nal California Hardcore band, evolved faster and
on a drastically divergent course from its peers.
Beginning in the late 70’s as a standard double-
time punk act, shouting about drug use and bore-
dom, by the mid 1980’s they were what can only
be described as a jam band, minus the flowery
far-out connotations that term usually carries with
it.The addition of a reliable rhythm section and the
influence of Henry Rollins and his lyrics changed
what Flag was able to do. As a pit-inducing band,
Black Flag were nearly matchless; they knew how
to give the kids the opportunity and the excuse
for mayhem. However they were also able to lock
into extended rhythms, bass and drums follow-
ing each other with a martial accuracy that Greg
Ginn’s atonal, growling guitar work only compli-
mented. The combination of the musicianship
and Rollins’s aptitude for lyrical ad-libbing during
shows made Flag a sort of dark and aggressive
Grateful Dead.
The best example of Black Flag’s live work can be
found on the album Who’s got the 10 and a half?
The set moves through a variety of the group’s rep-
ertoire, but it is track 13 on the disc which makes
my case. Where most hardcore punk songs of the
time clocked in at under two minutes, the med-
ley Slip it In/Gimme Gimme Gimme lasts a good
quarter of an hour. The songs, entirely dissimilar
otherwise, are linked together by the insistent
drumming of Anthony Martinez and Kira’s coiled
and intimidating bass line. The vocals and guitar
only help to push the beast along.
So much about punk rock generally and
hardcore in particular is about connection to your
environment. This medley takes that connection
and severs it. For 15 minutes the drum and bass
run a line that hardly changes while Ginn’s guitar
and Rollins’ voice squawk in and out like a drive
through speaker. The combination of drone and
howl effectively drops the listener inside them-
selves; the songs induce a sort of ugly trance.
The effect is less about the mosh and much more
about the head nod which typifies Black Flag’s
later work. By this point the band was less about
having the audience wreck the concert hall, they
were more interested in wrecking your head.
The state of trance or deep meditation is at
its heart about a quieting of the inner dialog. How
that level of relaxation is reached is up to you,
whether it be through Ravi Shankar or the mighty
Black Flag.

Black Flag
and the Art
of Meditation
BY HAukuR S MAgnúSSon
ARTICLE BY pADRAIg MARA