Continuing the painting marathon, I nevertheless stopped at eight to go to the St. George's English Bookshop on Würther Strasse where they show films once a week, putting leather couches and chairs in rows that get filled up quickly. Three euros entry for a double bill wonderfully also includes a drink. They were showing an Ingmar Bergman film starring Ingrid Bergman strangely enough, but there is no relation. ‘Autumn Symphony' is a film I'd long wanted to see, not only for the superb acting, but also for a famous scene where a piano sonata is played in turn by both the daughter first and then the mother, with the music encapsulating all the tensions of their relationship. It was excellent from that point of view, but unrelenting in portraying a woman who was so ‘selfish' and ‘egotistical' as to have a career as a concert pianist thereby wrecking both her children's lives. Even the cerebral palsy of one of them is laid at her feet for having gone on a concert tour for three months. Does Lancet know about this? Obviously a film produced by a man and not a load of laughs My God I don't think the film was that old either. Give us a break!
Superb artistry but a depressing affront to my sensibilities, it made me want to mount a counter attack. All the way walking back to the studio I was trying to think from both points of view although fuming on the pianist mother's behalf. Of course emotions aren't logical and it is easier to blame than to accept or forgive.
Still, what a wonderfully great bookshop for ex-pats in Berlin. They also have a lending system for books, and will buy back any books they sell. Both the people that run it are friendly and intelligent; as well one is extremely tall, dark and handsome. What more can one say?
