INSPIRATIONS ** out of **** Inspired? Not really. I once read or heard somewhere the quote, "There is nothing more boring than an artist talking about his art." Heck, maybe I actually made up the quote myself and the attribution is only a dream. The point is that, luckily, this isn't true for all of the artists Michael Apted profiles in his new documentary INSPIRATIONS. To cover most bases, Apted has assembled a diverse group from both the visual and performing arts. That they be articulate and/or interesting was not a factor: Pop painter Roy Lichtenstein is as vacuous as the dots he paints are plentiful; perhaps he should have let his studio assistant talk since he does most of the grudge work anyway. To varying degrees, the audience fares better with the rest of Apted's chosen. Sculptor Nora Naranjo-Morse seems to subscribe to the idea that she is merely some mortal vessel in which inspiration suddenly materializes. She says little that is stimulating, and she does find some humour in having some of her sculptures thought of as penises. David Bowie's paintings are undistinguished, but his sense of humour and self are refreshing. Bowie also benefits from the talented others he surrounds himself with, as well as techy toys: song lyrics have apparently benefited from a computer programme which randomly reassembles word order from sentences. Architect Tadao Ando's bluntness is endearingly comical - he frets over the location of one of a cliffside building of his midway through construction. And don't needle him about costs either because he'll likely just give you a quizzical but polite look while mentally brushing off your protests. He explains his architecture in a matter-of-fact manner, but he gets to the core, and once there one gets a clear grasp of why his architectures are. INSPIRATION's brashest comic (and token art education advocate) is glass artist Dale Chihuly, responsible for colourful and organic sculptures. Édouard Lock, choreographer for Les Grands Ballets Canadiens, is the most sophisticated speaker of the lot. Louise Lecavalier, the principal dancer with La La La Human Steps, could have benefited by conversing in her native French, but in any case her skills as a dancer are undeniable. Lecavalier, who on occasion dances with Lock, is not a dancer in the popular sense, and neither can Lock's choreography be considered traditional, although it has been broadly described as "hard-edged contemporary ballet." Lock explains it as non-classical in its deliberate aversion to line, but I'll go further: aggressively athletic and not necessarily graceful, deliberately avoiding static poses so that momentum is maintained, and highly watchable. When Lecavalier mentions that it is unfortunate that performances go unrecorded, I couldn't help but share her regret, and the ephemeral state of the human body. Apted's approach is an uninspired, workmanlike manner where all are broached with sketchy topics. INSPIRATIONS benefits from the individual comic personalities most of them inject into this dry affair. Is anything new revealed about the nature of artistic inspiration? Not much cohesiveness can be found in their inspirations or their methods, but perhaps therein lies the truth behind art: that one's muses can be pretty much anything. But this is nothing new. The easier thing for Apted to do would have to record performances by Les Grands Ballets Canadiens and La La La Human Steps; after watching INSPIRATIONS, you would likely wish he had. Admittedly this would not have been as overtly intellectual but it definitely would be more thrilling. In that thrall, perhaps one may actually be inspired. C INSPIRATIONS Directed by: Michael Apted U.S.A. 1997 Review completed on October 12, 1997. |