So, my friends, here is the latest. For the next two weeks, I am off to France for a press trip, organized by the Poitou-Charentes region in Western France. How can I say no? The region is famous for its ancient Roman history, medieval architecture, plenty of small museums, and beautiful landscapes.
In the film, Foulkes has the charisma of Robin Williams, the looks of Clint Eastwood, the neurosis of Woody Allen and a singer/songwriter voice of Tom Waits. Put all these things in a meat grinder and it's a no-brainer that Foulkes stands apart from the Ferus brethren in this feature documentary film.
The fact that this substantial body of work spans only two years, from 1913 to 1915, is staggering in itself. That many of them were made in bereavement, as a memorial tribute to the gay artist's lover, killed during the first year of action, gives them a particular emotional poignancy and social significance.
The gallery is flooded with dramatic red light, and the first thing you are confronted with upon entering are Samurai horsemen, charging right at you. Staring at their elaborate suits of armor, including helmets and faceguards, it's difficult not to think about an over-the-top opera production or Hollywood blockbuster movie.