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Peter Bogdanovich: I’ve never seen Dietrich as she was in Touch of Evil—she transcends everything and becomes almost a mythical figure.
Orson Welles: The whole character, you know, was written after the picture started. We were well along before I even thought it up. Then I phoned Marlene and said I had a couple days’ work for her and she’d have to have dark hair because, I told her, “I liked you as a brunette in Golden Earrings.” She didn’t ask to read the script. She just said, “Well, I’ll go over to Paramount—I think that wig is still there—and then I’ll go to Metro for a dress…” The front office didn’t even know she was in the picture. You should have seen them in the projection room during the first rushes: “Hey! Isn’t that Dietrich?” and I said, “Yes.” They said, “We haven’t got her in the budget.” And I said, “No. Won’t cost you anything as long as you don’t give her billing.” They decided they wanted to and paid her to be in it. But it was up to them.
Bogdanovich: Well, it was actually a digression as far as the plot is concerned.
Welles: Yeah, but it helped it enormously. Look what that does for the film—that scene when those two suddenly encounter each other. And when she sees him floating in the bay—it makes the picture, you know.
Bogdanovich: That’s what I think. Where did the pianola come from? It seems like a remembrance of The Blue Angel.
Welles: Honestly, I wasn’t thinking of that. I’ve never seen The Blue Angel. I just think we found a pianola among the props. I think all that Dietrich part of it is as good as anything I’ve ever done in movies. When I think of that opening in New York without even a press showing… Really, Marlene was extraordinary in that. She really was the Super-Marlene. Everything she has ever been was in that little house for about four minutes there.

[This is Orson Welles]

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Ingrid Bergman on the set of The Greatest Love (1952)

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mazzyfields:

smoking-cinema:

Alice in den Städten (Alice in the Cities - Wim Wenders, 1974)

Rüdiger Vogler and Yella Rottländer

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commovente:

Sophie Calle, from Voir la Mer, 2011 (the filmed reactions of individuals who lived in Istanbul but who encountered the sea for the first time)

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shapeways:

(via My Itty Bitty Cute Little Pony Girl by BITGEM on Shapeways)

theparisreview:

Great post over at Spitalfields Life, with some fantastic vintage photography recording “a lost world of the public house as the centre of the community in the nineteen sixties.”

Shift work on Fleet St gave Tony free time in the afternoon that he spent in the pub which was when these photographs, published here for the first time, were taken. “Tony loved East End pubs,” Libby recalled fondly, “He loved the atmosphere. He loved the relationships with the regular customers. If a regular didn’t turn up one night, someone would go round to see if they were alright.”

Photographs copyright © Libby Hall

springwise:

Jeans store uses QR codes to make shopping easier for men

We recently wrote about QThru, a system using QR codes to speed up the check-out process. Aimed at men who don’t like shopping, Hointer also uses the technology to break down the traditional retail model and help make clothes shopping pain-free. READ MORE…

passionforpics:

mick jagger what a jacket.

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theparisreview:

Building off Sophie Pinkham’s essay on her trip to Kazakhstan, Irina Ruppert’s photography series Rodina, which is the Russian word for “home.” The book edition, unfortunately sold out, states,

The desire for security and belonging is one of the dominant feelings. Everyone is longing for home, but when childhood is gone, one finds it only and mostly unexpectedly in the memory, it does not matter if one stayed or left. Irina Ruppert came from Kazakhstan to Germany with her family at the age of seven. Now, decades later, she is drawn towards the east. Instinctively, over and over again. Because of the memory – or the idea of it.

The images in Rodina are just like the concept of home – inconceivable, ephemeral and radically subjective. Two boys coasting down the village street in their soapbox, the hilly, softly illuminated landscape shines in lush green. In a soup plate lies a chicken foot, a man swings the scythe on a field, a little girl stays in front of a small house with a big cross on the front, grandma sits in the dark, simply decorated living room, a boy interrupts his ride on a far too large bicycle, in order to commune with a goat. Thus we learn little about the present life in Eastern Europe in that book, but a lot about the fundamental impressions, experiences and encounters, which affect a life. I believe it is due to the special quality of Irina Ruppert’s photographs that the images become transparent in the observer’s eye and the frame fills with personal memories.

But the images still tell something about a region which often is associated with poverty, alcoholism and illness: There is beauty, dignity, confidence and hope. And the wheels of progress turn more slowly. Otherwise Irina Ruppert would not have found her images.

The series, recently exhibited at the Kominek Gallery in Berlin.