Bear with me. I am actually going somewhere with this…
In 1983, Franco Zeffirelli’s film of the opera La Traviata actually made three and a half million dollars in American movie theaters. (Pretty amazing, though of course it made much more in Europe.) It also won several international awards for set design and cinematography.
His movies were always beautiful to look at. Most frames from his Romeo and Juliet looked like they should be in frames in a Renaissance art exhibit. His Brother Sun, Sister Moon made you feel as if you were in the scene… whether the Papal palace, a ruined church, or a field of battle.
With La Traviata, even the objects on a lady’s dressing table looked to have been placed with all the care deployed in an entire set for a lavish home.
All that is a long winded way to say that I experience a sensation looking at the panels in this strip, week after week, that I used to express about those movies: Namely that they would be worth the price of admission even if the theater’s sound system failed and the movies were silent.
I love the art, even as today when depicting rain and mud… so much that I’d spend time just looking at this strip every day even if it were written in a language I couldn’t read.
Bear with me. I am actually going somewhere with this…
In 1983, Franco Zeffirelli’s film of the opera La Traviata actually made three and a half million dollars in American movie theaters. (Pretty amazing, though of course it made much more in Europe.) It also won several international awards for set design and cinematography.
His movies were always beautiful to look at. Most frames from his Romeo and Juliet looked like they should be in frames in a Renaissance art exhibit. His Brother Sun, Sister Moon made you feel as if you were in the scene… whether the Papal palace, a ruined church, or a field of battle.
With La Traviata, even the objects on a lady’s dressing table looked to have been placed with all the care deployed in an entire set for a lavish home.
All that is a long winded way to say that I experience a sensation looking at the panels in this strip, week after week, that I used to express about those movies: Namely that they would be worth the price of admission even if the theater’s sound system failed and the movies were silent.
I love the art, even as today when depicting rain and mud… so much that I’d spend time just looking at this strip every day even if it were written in a language I couldn’t read.
Gives me goosebumps.