I
The cadence of that dark woman Tehuano dress and almost imperceptible smile, was the corollary of that exposure. Under this box adorned with a black and white cinematography and Mexican motifs, Miquel Angel reads, with its festive look with smiles on every dimension, watch the audience, waving his hands, straightens in his seat, moves forward is restless but happy, he stutters his voice when he recalls his friend Emilio García Arriera, the central protagonist of the Mexican film critic, once a factory worker in the kitchen, where downtime begins to make critical the movies he saw, whom Angel has compiled a series of film reviews that make the book enjoyable game II. There are those who follow his words, the anecdotes she tells us, the critical assessments about the book from his friend. Angel ends with a nervous smile, but confident, with the duty. Without further ado, I present to Gabriel Rodriguez, who is there to present the book The Birth of Que Viva Mexico! Aurelio Reyes, Gabriel speaks slow, knows every adjective, every irony, every metaphor, Aurelio Reyes speaks of his travels, his search for answers, his wisdom in asking, seeking. Aurelio looks serene, almost all the time head down, listening and remembering, from time to time agree. Gabriel tells a story stainless patience comes to light. A tough nut to crack story, story involving a duel with time and challenge the maze. As Sergey tells Gabriel, ambassador of socialism that came to Mexico, keep coming 6th students of the Faculty of Arts. Brenda joins trying to catch the course of the discussion. Aurelio continues his adventure in Moscow without knowing Russian, panic fact, in sandals because they knew the weather in Moscow, located on the rail of the deportees to arrive early, it illuminates the eyes, a feat that would direct to find the necessary information to discover every detail of the identity of Einsestein, who face the challenge of addressing the Soviet director of a new and original way, where the game is perceived political and artistic evolution.
II
The curtains are closed to shut off the light, plus one more-is heard-and Daniela rushes with his unique hat, sits down, she followed others come rushing also seek their seat in the dark, all called by the strange echo of that music. Cell phones light up the aisles of the room, use them to not rush through the steps so small which hinder the descent and ascent. Students down the stairs, directors, organizers and the public was groping the way, who come to see what sounds interesting. Hoarse voice is heard, probably a English: Franco is dead, English, Franco is dead, Franco is dead ... words followed by a scream, electric guitars to the tune of La, colorful images of strange purple and black lines stand out, eccentric characters and a man known, damn, it's Pedro Almodovar, says a woman's voice, then then shut because the function has already started and the image is so powerful that requires full attention.
III The sky dark brown gauze of clouds, the moon can be seen among the clouds spaces left, the silver color of the needles of moonlight illuminated the ground, mixed with the yellow light of the square, can walk and placed without problems. It's 8:30 and the program notes Soneros de Tesechoacán, but not about the magic that comes because you can not predict in any way.
screen tied to a pole and a tree, erect, hold, is the first night that nothing moves, no air. A little sweat cools the skin looks when it touches air, people are sitting, waiting time. A man of Indian-looking features, brown skin, medium height, dressed in ponchos embroidered with blue, red, pink, yellow figures that if they do not have meanings themselves are beautiful, shoes and leather sandals sole rim, brown, worn, a colorful cotton webbing pierced his chest, hits a hat hanging around cream-colored figurines, sea shells appear, bring a backpack, a scarf around his neck, and hands, a fiddle, Urra Muirre is called and begins to play. Is it part of the program, asks a clueless who do not yet feel the energy that emerges from the act, the Huichol plays a melody that follows nostalgia on the rise and fall of the arc in contact with the strings. Looks nothing but sees it all ends passion, sweat, clap and there are those who have come together again, perhaps unwittingly, perhaps without knowing. Then comes another, younger, wearing the same, brings a binge, just look and understand everything, touch, in people with emotion, still look like children fascinated with eyes and ears to those who make the night unforgettable, that the fill of nostalgia and emotion that make regaining something that just noticed, remained vague in his memory. End, applause, euphoria, public taste, touch the Huichol, who also sudan and return to play, why not one more. Since more people now, as if they were attracted by a pied piper dressed in Huichol and nostalgic longing rate but also search and hope. The music stops, the director of the film that follows, Inti Cordera, smiles, urging you to speak, what I can tell, he says, his excitement is evident in his pauses, in doubt of the words you use.
The Indian violin has been to see the film, still watch, hear, smiles and laughs from time to time, like everyone else, like no other.
The cadence of that dark woman Tehuano dress and almost imperceptible smile, was the corollary of that exposure. Under this box adorned with a black and white cinematography and Mexican motifs, Miquel Angel reads, with its festive look with smiles on every dimension, watch the audience, waving his hands, straightens in his seat, moves forward is restless but happy, he stutters his voice when he recalls his friend Emilio García Arriera, the central protagonist of the Mexican film critic, once a factory worker in the kitchen, where downtime begins to make critical the movies he saw, whom Angel has compiled a series of film reviews that make the book enjoyable game II. There are those who follow his words, the anecdotes she tells us, the critical assessments about the book from his friend. Angel ends with a nervous smile, but confident, with the duty. Without further ado, I present to Gabriel Rodriguez, who is there to present the book The Birth of Que Viva Mexico! Aurelio Reyes, Gabriel speaks slow, knows every adjective, every irony, every metaphor, Aurelio Reyes speaks of his travels, his search for answers, his wisdom in asking, seeking. Aurelio looks serene, almost all the time head down, listening and remembering, from time to time agree. Gabriel tells a story stainless patience comes to light. A tough nut to crack story, story involving a duel with time and challenge the maze. As Sergey tells Gabriel, ambassador of socialism that came to Mexico, keep coming 6th students of the Faculty of Arts. Brenda joins trying to catch the course of the discussion. Aurelio continues his adventure in Moscow without knowing Russian, panic fact, in sandals because they knew the weather in Moscow, located on the rail of the deportees to arrive early, it illuminates the eyes, a feat that would direct to find the necessary information to discover every detail of the identity of Einsestein, who face the challenge of addressing the Soviet director of a new and original way, where the game is perceived political and artistic evolution.
II
The curtains are closed to shut off the light, plus one more-is heard-and Daniela rushes with his unique hat, sits down, she followed others come rushing also seek their seat in the dark, all called by the strange echo of that music. Cell phones light up the aisles of the room, use them to not rush through the steps so small which hinder the descent and ascent. Students down the stairs, directors, organizers and the public was groping the way, who come to see what sounds interesting. Hoarse voice is heard, probably a English: Franco is dead, English, Franco is dead, Franco is dead ... words followed by a scream, electric guitars to the tune of La, colorful images of strange purple and black lines stand out, eccentric characters and a man known, damn, it's Pedro Almodovar, says a woman's voice, then then shut because the function has already started and the image is so powerful that requires full attention.
III The sky dark brown gauze of clouds, the moon can be seen among the clouds spaces left, the silver color of the needles of moonlight illuminated the ground, mixed with the yellow light of the square, can walk and placed without problems. It's 8:30 and the program notes Soneros de Tesechoacán, but not about the magic that comes because you can not predict in any way.
screen tied to a pole and a tree, erect, hold, is the first night that nothing moves, no air. A little sweat cools the skin looks when it touches air, people are sitting, waiting time. A man of Indian-looking features, brown skin, medium height, dressed in ponchos embroidered with blue, red, pink, yellow figures that if they do not have meanings themselves are beautiful, shoes and leather sandals sole rim, brown, worn, a colorful cotton webbing pierced his chest, hits a hat hanging around cream-colored figurines, sea shells appear, bring a backpack, a scarf around his neck, and hands, a fiddle, Urra Muirre is called and begins to play. Is it part of the program, asks a clueless who do not yet feel the energy that emerges from the act, the Huichol plays a melody that follows nostalgia on the rise and fall of the arc in contact with the strings. Looks nothing but sees it all ends passion, sweat, clap and there are those who have come together again, perhaps unwittingly, perhaps without knowing. Then comes another, younger, wearing the same, brings a binge, just look and understand everything, touch, in people with emotion, still look like children fascinated with eyes and ears to those who make the night unforgettable, that the fill of nostalgia and emotion that make regaining something that just noticed, remained vague in his memory. End, applause, euphoria, public taste, touch the Huichol, who also sudan and return to play, why not one more. Since more people now, as if they were attracted by a pied piper dressed in Huichol and nostalgic longing rate but also search and hope. The music stops, the director of the film that follows, Inti Cordera, smiles, urging you to speak, what I can tell, he says, his excitement is evident in his pauses, in doubt of the words you use.
The Indian violin has been to see the film, still watch, hear, smiles and laughs from time to time, like everyone else, like no other.
Director: José Luis Valdez
/ Jessica Rivera
Research:
José Luis Valdez / Jessica Rivera / Berenice Fregoso / Salvador Guzman
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