Speaking of fantasies, mine got realised tonight. I like very much meeting Sue for tea, as my meetings with her always have that air of relax and care for self. We usually get out of the artschool and the Cosmo Cafe at Glasgow Film Theatre is a favourite one of ours. It reminds me of a watered down version of the Mies van der Rohe modernist masterclass that is the cafe at the Neue Nationalgalerie in Berlin, but that may be my imagination… When she was ordering a couple of hot chocolates, I sat at a table and browsed the theatre’s events brochure. What? David Lynch is coming to Glasgow! Well indeed. And there were 9 tickets left as somebody had just returned them that afternoon. There you go. How lucky can one be sometimes?
So I got to see the great man and it was even better than I could have expected. He is touring with Donovan, promoting consciousness-based education and Transcendental Meditation, both of which may interest me in a peripheral manner but much much less than his films. Still, it’s David Lynch, so got tickets. The evening had two parts, the first of which consisted in Lynch taking on any questions from the audience. Any, at all. How generous is that? Anyway, being in Glasgow meant that politics had to come in pretty soon (after all, we are the city that banjoes) and his first question, asked by a lover of world conflicts –he had a thick Scottish accent and was sporting a top with the Basque flag– turned around Lynch’s recent visit to Israel. What good is TM for people like Palestinians? This question, like many others throughout the night did not, of course, get fully answered. The great director managed to answer, while fluttering his hand, by saying the words he needed to say in order to spread his message.
Apar from that, the Glasgow audience did not have particularly groundbreaking questions (myself included). I should have asked how he kept his hair so healthy. Thank God my friend Sarah went to the BFI, where the audience might have been more metrosexual and informs me that (a) he is currently using a L’Oreal product he bought in Iraq (??!) and (b) he is not overly happy with his current hairdo. the only interesting question came from a lady concerned with the world of dreams and reality. Again, he gave a beautiful, hand-fluttering non-answer. but the best, without a doubt, was when he was quizzed about the meaning of his films, especially Inland Empire. His fluttering got ever more magnificent, reaching ballet-like heights, his words were mesmerising, utterly unconnected to the task at hand.
The best example of his impeccable way of dealing with questions was when someone in the back row attempted to address him with an accent but without a microphone. Lynch closed his eyes and tried to listen intently to the speech, after which he said to his associates: “Is this something about research?” They answered that she was asking him to do a film –she was, but a specific one. Lynch, however, did not need any more information: he committed, of course, films are his thing! The highlight of his good humour came when he got asked about his opinion bout quakers. He opened his unconscious to a joke: “What is the difference between a quaker and a shaker?”, the answer to which he enacted. Genius. I was in awe, and even begun to be convinced about his low commitment attitude to TM (2 sessions of 20 minutes a day for infinite creativity; a bargain).
Donovan came afterwards and his ending the evening was just perfect. Nice songs, a nice man. Glaswegians love their own, so they gave Donovan, from Maryhill, their best singing voices and clapping. I joined in with Mellow Yellow, of course. Why not? Happiness was contagious! I did not even feel sad about not going to the after party shenanigans. The only answer I want from David Lynch are his films, his imagery, his immortal, infinite, incredibly beautiful universe. Besides, Neil invited me to a 10-year Laphroaig shot in the best of our 4 equidistant locals. And nothing, absolutely nothing, can be better than that.