View allAll Photos Tagged theshining
I went to first-Friday's "Nü" at Chicago stalwart nightclub Neo last night.
It was my first time being at this club since I came here to celebrate my 31st birthday by tearing it up on the dancefloor.
Tonight was a blast. I think I have a new top-3 favorite event night.
Photo is as featured in www.Chicagoist.com "Around Town" for working date 1/07/2013. chicagoist.com/2013/01/07/around_town_1273.php#photo-1
Lincoln Park, Chicago, Illinois.
(Early) Saturday, January 5, 2013.
1. 303/365 - October 30 2010, 2. sigh, another fence friday shot too late, 3. TREATS!, 4. 304/365: This is Halloween! Pumpkins scream in the dead of night!, 5. 306 :: 365, 6. 314/365: float, 7. today I scared alot of people at work!, 8. Mr. Worm Visits Hogwarts, 9. a little black magic~, 10. triplet zebras, 11. 305:365 {& a Halloween BAM}, 12. Happy Halloween!, 13. I Sold My Soul {but I'm getting it back} 2:52, 14. wish these tights were more every day wear..., 15. Untitled, 16. thing1& thing 2, 17. Pearly dew drops drop, 18. .:43/52:., 19. No Ding Dong Dash For Us!!, 20. Untitled, 21. Darth Pumpkin, 22. Theshining, 23. 22:52, 24. Fake TTV Halloween 2010, 25. bam. (22/52)
Created with fd's Flickr Toys
Never let go of yourself, what you want out of life, who you are, or what you believe in, your hopes or your dreams. And never try to become something you're not just to appease someone else. What's the point.
G didn't like this one, he said it reminded him of the shining too much. ;D I like it, it is creepy and I think it's awesome! I've had this idea for a while and finally decided I had to try to get it done and I'm happy with the way it turned out. These push my creativity and my photoshop skills. I just hope my creativity keeps coming!
COVER FEATURE
Psycho Geography
A black comedy about a murderous north-country caravan trip, BEN WHEATLEY’s Sightseers taps into a tradition of urban couples coming horribly unstuck in the English countryside. The director and his two writer-stars talk to Ben Walters.
FEATURES
Bomb culture
Fifty years after the Cuban Missile Crisis, writer-director SALLY POTTER revisits 1962 in Ginger & Rosa. She talks to Sophie Mayer.
Breaking the waves
Best known for intense crime dramas, JACQUES AUDIARD has gone for a more offbeat, lyrical approach with his new film Rust and Bone. He talks to Thomas Dawson.
Seoul survivor
IM KWONTAEK has directed more than 100 films in his career, holding up a mirror to the changes in his country since the Korean War. By Tony Rayns.
The Beat goes on
It’s taken 50 years for Jack Kerouac’s Beat classic On the Road to reach the screen. Demetrios Matheou talks to director WALTER SALLES and his cast on set in Montreal
Things overlooked
The Shining is back in a longer print, its secrets probed in the new documentary Room 237. By Michael Atkinson
PLUS: ‘A Little Touch of Amber’, a Shining-inspired short story by David Thomson.
Editorial: Cinema’s fall
Reader Offers
RUSHES
Nick James talks to CLARE STEWART, new director of the BFI London Film Festival, about this year’s edition.
Hannah McGill explores the significance of the typewriter in film.
Mark Cousins asks what makes a great building for a film museum.
Jonathan Romney examines John Malkovich’s portrayal of the Duke of Wellington.
THE INDUSTRY
Charles Gant investigates why a remake of a Michael Caine film took 15 years to reach the screen.
Charles Gant assesses the performance of Polish films at the UK box office.
David Locke on how film festivals can help give a leg-up to niche titles.
Nick Roddick talks to veteran film-festival programmer Marco Müller.
FESTIVALS
Nick James rounds up the best of Venice and Tom Charity reports from Toronto.
DEEP FOCUS
Mark Duguid explores the darker currents running through the diverse 1940s and 50s output of Ealing Studios, usually best known for its comedies.
PLUS: Josephine Botting on studio head MICHAEL BALCON.
WIDE ANGLE
Michael Brooke explores this year’s LFF Experimenta strand on Peter Kubelka.
Paul Mayersberg charts the links between Lang’s The Woman in the Window and Kubrick’s Eyes Wide Shut.
Brad Stevens takes a fresh look at a pair of 1970s gems starring Tuesday Weld.
Frances Morgan tunes in to a new film that travels Ireland in search of silence.
Bryony Dixon looks at silent-era censors.
Agnieszka Gratza on radical 1960s New York renaissance man Aldo Tambellini.
David Cairns revisits Closed Circuit.
FORUM
Letters The meaning of giallo, S&S poll.
James Bell queries the notion of truth in Bart Layton’s The Imposter.
FILMS OF THE MONTH
Beasts of the Southern Wild
Five Broken Cameras
Frankenweenie
Ginger & Rosa
OTHER FILM REVIEWS
Call Me Kuchu
The Campaign
Elena
For a Good Time, Call...
Hit & Run
Hotel Transylvania
House at the End of the Street
Inbred
Keep the Lights On
Keith Lemon: The Film
Looper
Madagascar 3: Europe’s Most Wanted
On the Road
The Penguin King 3D
Pitch Perfect
The Possession
Private Peaceful
Pusher
Raaz 3: The Third Dimension
Resident Evil: Retribution
Room 237: Being an Inquiry into The Shining in 9 Parts
Ruby Sparks
Rust and Bone
Sinister
Sister
Sparkle
St. George’s Day
Stitches
Taken 2
Tempest
DVD FEATURES
David Jenkins salutes the immediacy and energy of Samuel Fuller’s Park Row.
Graham Fuller unpicks the pre-feminist agenda of a trio of films from Gainsborough Pictures.
Lee Hill revisits one of the lesser-known films of the American New Wave, End of the Road.
DVD REVIEWS
Casa de Lava
Crime Does Not Pay: the Complete Shorts Collection (1935-1947)
Dying Room Only
Hell Is a City, Isn’t Anyone Alive?
Korczak
Lady Snowblood/Lady Snowblood 2: Love Song of Vengeance
Lawrence of Arabia
Oedipus Rex
Pursued
Puzzle of a Downfall Child
Das Testament des Dr Mabuse
Tetsuo: the Iron Man/Tetsuo II: Body Hammer
Wings
A Woman Under the Influence
TELEVISION
Hatfields & McCoys
Prisoners of War
Star Trek: The Next Generation – Season 1
BOOKS
Henry K. Miller enjoys an overview of the films of Olivier Assayas and a memoir by the director himself.
Paul Mayersberg surveys a critically acute exploration of troubled Hollywood director Nicholas Ray.
Nick James takes issue with a political analysis of 21st-century cinema.
Ah, what a night! With medieval carnival weekend in full swing down at Balingup accomodation was pretty thin on the ground, especially when things were booked last minute. Nicky had booked herself and a friend into a hotel in Greenbushes over a month previously but with some interest from me and another friend she was able to also book us a room at the same place, but in a different complex. They were going to be in the apartments, and we were staying in the hotel proper.
We went to the carnival first off before even heading to our hotel, so it was already late in the afternoon before we set eyes on the place. During the festivities I'd run into an old friend who'd asked where we were staying and when i mentioned the Exchange Hotel in Greenbushes she pursed her lips and said that the place was like the centre of a ghost town and she could always imagine the tune from 'Deliverance' playing when she went past. I also ran into my aunt who aaah'ed at its mention, saying that the apartments out the back of the hotel complex used to be a brothel.
Interesting.
So we crawl into the sleepy town, an old mining town well past its heyday and go to the hotel. The look is exactly as we've come to expect from the stories, and the bar has a few weathered old codgers muttering amongst themselves over a beer and at the intrusion of us city gals into their midst.
Before I get to the hotel story itself I'll tell all about Nicky and Kirsten's wonderful apartment visit. Pretty rundown, dumpsville you would say, but as a backpacker i've come across worse (though not by much!). Dodgy looking locks on the doors and bent flywire on the windows. Creaky beds with mattresses that tilt on precarious angles when you sit on one edge, and metal grills that decide to fall off the wall heaters halfway through the night. Cold showers in the morning, and a mini fridge that makes so much noise it keeps them up for most of the night.
Now for the hotel where Megan and I were staying. Access to the rooms is via a rickety old outside staircase with a door that leaks out into the night, full of holes and gaps at the edges of the frames, wouldn't be surprised if it fell off the hinges someday soon. The room itself doesn't seem as bad as expected, all things considered, until we start unpacking and realise that the beds haven't been made. Megan is somewhat reluctant to see if we can change rooms until I point out that we have no idea how long some sweaty old miner has been spending his lonely nights there. So the apologetic lady at the bar gives us the keys to another room. Things are looking up in the world - the beds are made and it's nicer, though just as basic, room. We're unpacking again and I head off to use the bathroom (one shared one for the corridor) before leaving for the evening. Whoops! Turns out we didn't need keys to this room, the doors been kicked in at some point and the lock is practically falling off, and there's no way that it's ever going to close properly again, let alone lock. Next room please!
Megan goes downstairs while i wait in the very empty and quiet hallways with our luggage, wondering what new surprise we'll find in our new room. Luckily, no surprises waiting this time, but Megan mentions that the lady practically shrugged off our concern and mentioned that it wasn't really anything to worry about, there was only us two girls and Old Billy up there, and "he ain't up to much these days".
!!!
So unpacked, beds scrutinised for bedbugs, we head off for dinner and some ceremonial dragon burning at the fair (bad timing, we missed all the excitement in the end).
I should mention the wonderful country/arty decor that I spied in the dining room - a large rusty double-handed saw, and a chalk drawing of a woman with her hands covering her face. Altogether comforting items to display in a near deserted hotel.
So bedtime arrives and after a brush in with a nasty looking spider on the rickety stairs we bypass that entrance and make our way in through the bar. The place is jumping with Saturday night fever. Not. Deserted except for the lady and what appears to be her two children.
Upstairs is arranged in a U-shape. Corridor 1 is lit, as is Corridor 2. But yes, you guessed it, Corridor 3 - our corridor - is plunged in the dark and we can't find any switches that get it to turn on. Knowing that we're going to have to venture out in that during the night to visit the bathroom is not a comforting thought, and the bathroom light is on a timer so we can't keep that switched on. We have the brainwave to kick open the busted door to our previous almost-abode which happens to be across the way so we can have our night-light to make us feel safe!
So we spent an uncomfortable and more or less sleepless night in a deserted hotel, full of the creaks and groans that you expect of old buildings. Noises that always seem to be in the room but not coming from the other person, or which seem to be coming from the hallway just outside the room. Noises that you expect to hear but which nevertheless make you feel nervous and a little jumpy. Particularly when you venture into the dimly lit corridor and creep down to the bathroom only to jump a mile high when Megan's mobile (which in the dead silence seems to be set to an extra loud volume) suddenly blares out the haunting theme to "The Good, The Bad & The Ugly". Did I mention that this place was like a ghost town?
In the morning, after what I swear was only 2 or 3 hours sleep on my part, I mention to Megan that I have a suspicion that "old Billy" isn't really a person, but actually a ghost, but I hadn't wanted to say anything before in case it made her jumpy. She mentions that she'd been thinking the exact same thing and hadn't wanted to say anything to me!
Most ghost stories about the Stanley Hotel center on this room or on the fourth floor. Steven King spent some time here and immediately was inspired to write "The Shining". The TV series (ministry) was filmed here.
I may have caught some ghosts in the photos...look hard.
Margaret and I were in Room 213. The hotel has all the even numbers on the right of the hotel and the odd numbers on the left.
The outside shots of the front of the hotel were strangely blurred.
Below is the stairs to the fourth floor where children spent the summer. Lots of mischief occurs on that floor. Notice the broken railing....
How Stanley Kubrick's Editing Conveys a Horrifying Supernatural Vision in The Shining
by Adam Polselli
Copyright © 1980 Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.
Since it's the release anniversary of "The Shining" (May 23, 1980) and last week marked several of the "Star Wars" films anniversaries (and Peter Mayhew's birthday), I made a mess of these two for Mashup Monday.
How Stanley Kubrick's Editing Conveys a Horrifying Supernatural Vision in The Shining
by Adam Polselli
Copyright © 1980 Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.
How Stanley Kubrick's Editing Conveys a Horrifying Supernatural Vision in The Shining
by Adam Polselli
Copyright © 1980 Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.
On my trip up to England this past week, I had one main priority: go to Stanley Kubrick's house.
Like most film lovers, I love Mr. Kubrick. I love all his movies and think he was a genius of his craft. The best that ever lived. Watch a movie every July 26th to celebrate his life and career. So naturally, when talks came up of me visiting my friend Sonia up in England (who shares a birthday with Mr. Kubrick), this trip was a must (it was, in fact, what led us to renting a car and attempting to drive up to Edinburgh. But Hertfordshire would be our first stop).
When we hit a gate (pictured here), we felt it was a major drawback. Sonia let out a giant "aww" as I had traveled all this way to be blocked by a gate. I wasn't about to just open it, respectinig Mr. Kubrick and Christiane's privacy. We could see his house from the gate, but I wanted to get a view unobstructed by trees (like the one pictured here, instead maybe catch a glimpse at the tree he's buried near?) But when a neighbor saw us stranded by the very gate, she advised us that it would be okay to press the button that opens the gate and drive through, "I do it all the time" she reassured us.
So we went through. Couldn't get much further though because we were hit by a second gate, and I didn't feel like crossing over this one. It led probably to the very front of the manor... and I didn't have the guts to invade the Kubrick's privacy any further. So we reversed and headed back to leave, when...
a lady who was walking her dog near the fence saw us and stared. We drove up to her, and she said hello. We greeted her back. I felt the need to add, because of my guilt, "I'm sorry, we're just huge Kubrick fans and wanted to visit his home." She replied, very unenthusiastically, "That's nice, you do know this is private property, don't you?" We took the hint, said our good-byes and left. The guilt only grew.
Now the question is, who was this woman? When I saw her, my first thought was, she's related to Stanley -- not a doubt in my mind. She even had the same features as him... so was she Vivian? The Kubrick's second and only surviving child? (not a child anymore, as she's in her 50s) Perhaps. Maybe Katharina, Stanley's stepdaughter. I didn't have the guts to ask. There's a story about how back in the day when reporters used to come to Stanley's house to ask for interviews, they wouldn't know what he looked like because he always use to guard himself from the public eye so he used to tell them "He's not home," and then shut the door, haha. She probably would've taken a page from his book as well. Sans door. And knowing that story, I feel even worse just having being on the property. Oh well, it was fun -- and Katharina or Christiane, if you're reading this, I'm sorry for crossing the grounds (I was in the silver VW Golf). I'm just a fan, a big big fan who came all the way from Los Angeles to check out Stan-the-man's home :)
We had the 550d on the dash while we drove in, so I'll get that video up later today -- but I didn't record our encounter with Katharina, unfortunately.
I still can't believe I saw Stanley Kubrick's house, the place where he lived the last 20 years of his life, the place where his wife currently lives, and the place where he and his daughter are buried. I'm Muslim and will be going to Mecca in a few months Inshallah, but talk about a pilgrimage! ;)
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blog: modenadude.com
The Grady Twins at the Stanley Hotel. Imaged on a recent morning.
Inspired by Stanley Kubrick's film adaptation of Steven King's novel The Shining.
Uploaded at high res for the Creative Commons Attribution pool.
Please credit: Justus Hayes/Shoes on Wires/shoesonwires.com
A heavily processed photo of mold and mildew on a ceiling at what used to be Woodlands, an abandoned asylum near Vancouver, now a pile of post-conflagration rubble. There's a strange feeling I get looking at these photos of a place that no longer exists, that exists only in memory, and text, and pixels, and exposed chemicals. Truly, now, a virtual place. The rubble is still there, the Centre Building remnant, the few buildings that weren't touched. Where it has been destroyed, I look at the physical spaces in the air, the volumes that I walked along, the disintigrated corridors that I crouched and fretted and worked in. Entropy, dissolution, the desire of organization to collapse into chaos, the effort of will required to impose that order, to maintain it. How quickly that order can evaporate. One afternoon - done. And even the piles of rubble still contain some order. Bricks are still recognizable as bricks, wire can be distinguished as wire. In those immortal words, "This too shall pass." We exist in eddies, in pauses and shelves and temporary backwaters where the headlong crash towards dust is momentarily suspended. Enjoy the quiet.
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You’re scared of room 237, ain’t ya?
A longtime and diehard fan of Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining and a bona fide Yosemite junkie, I’ve always viewed the interior of the Ahwahnee Hotel with a mixture of awe and dread. One can be forgiven if—upon first entering the grand hotel—he feels as though he’s just stepped from what John Muir called “the great temple,” into the lobby and great hall of the horrible Overlook Hotel. In fact, if there is a break in the illusion, it is that the common spaces of the Ahwahnee, rather than pregnant with foreboding silence, are overflowing with visitors.
This resemblance is no accident of course. Mr. Kubrick designed his set (especially the Colorado Room and the lobby) to mimic the Ahwahnee, and indeed, I have a hard time seeing the chandeliers, rugs, tables and windows of this hotel without imagining Mr. Torrance clacking away upon his Adler upon one of the long, sturdy tables. Smiling menacingly amidst the tourists and hikers come to catch a few moments rest by the enormous fireplace. All work and no play …
The great coup of The Shining was its replacement of Stephen King’s extensive backstory with a brooding atmosphere and a churning sense of doom. Mr. King allegedly hated it, but the rest of us fell in love with the film. No other film adaptation of Mr. King’s work risen to the mark that Stanley Kubrick set.
Now, Mr. Kubrick was a hell of a still photographer in his own right, and, for my money, it is no coincidence that he possessed a preternatural capability for creating mood. The greatest trick in still photography is to create a sense of place, to render a three-dimensional, flesh and blood world in the rectangular space of an emulsion or a computer screen replete with a taste of the subject’s emotive power. Now, there can be no argument that Mr. Kubrick achieved at least that throughout the film.
For my own part, I am fascinated with the reality that serves as the foundation for imagination and dreams. I’ve spent considerable time photographing The University of Chicago both because it served as the backdrop for a decade my own adventures and because it carries with it a germ of Oxford, one of many templates for Hogwart’s.
I can be forgiven then for long planning to shoot the Ahwahnee interiors. “But,” I always asked myself, “how to capture the silence and desolation that so defined the film?” How could I turn The Ahwahnee into The Overlook?
The answer came with a winter bug that laid me low. Feeling feverish and fortunate enough to be a guest, I sneaked out of bed late one night, closed the door gently behind me, and stepped into the long, carpeted hallways of The Overlook Hotel.
The Stanley Hotel, located at 333 Wonder View Avenue within sight of the Rocky Mountain National Park, was built and designed by Freelan O. Stanley and opened on July 4, 1909. Forced by poor health to move West, F.O. Stanley, co-inventor of the Stanley Steamer automobile, arrived in Estes Park in 1903. In 1907, he purchased 160 acres of land from Lord Dunraven and began construction on the Main Building of the hotel, one of 11 in the original complex, with timber cut from the Bear Lake burn in 1900 from land now known as Rocky Mountain National Park. The hotel, which initially included an ice pond, a water reservoir, and a 9-hole golf course, catered to the rich and famous, including early guests like Titanic survivor Margaret Brown, John Philip Sousa, Theodore Roosevelt, and the Emperor and Empress of Japan. Today, the neoclassical hotel sits on 55 acres of property with 138 guest rooms.
The Stanley Hotel is most iconic for serving as the inspiration for the fictional Overlook Hotel in Stephen King's novel, The Shining. King conceived the idea for his third novel while staying at an empty Stanley at the end of a season with his wife. Contrary to information sometimes published, King was living in Boulder at the time and did not actually write the novel at the hotel. The Shining tells the story of a writer with a wife and son who accept the job of off-season caretaker at an isolated hotel, and after a paralyzing storm becomes influenced by the supernatural presence and descends into madness. The 1997 ABC television miniseries, The Shining, was filmed at the Stanley, although Mount Hood, Oregon's Timberline Lodge, stood in as the Overlook for Stanley Kubrick's cinematic version, which is played on a continous loop on Channel 42 on guest room televisions.
Many believe that the Stanley's haunted history is not relegated to the fictional realm. It is believed that Flora, Stanley's wife, continues to play the Steinway Grand Piano, still located in the ballroom, that he bought her for the grand opening in 1901. People have reported hearing piano music, and seeing the piano keys move but someone crosses the threshold of the ballroom, the music stops. F.O. Stanley is believed to haunt the Billiard Room and Lobby. Lord Dunraven reportedly can be spotted in room 407, where he turns the lights off and on and makes strange noises. The fourth floor hallways are said to be haunted by ghost children. Kitchen staff have reported hearing a party going on in the ballroom, only to find it empty. In one guest room, people claim to have seen a man standing over the bed before running into the cupboard. This same apparition is allegedly responsible for stealing guests' jewellery, watches, and luggage.
National Register #85001256 (1985)
Fiquei com vontade de participar daquele projeto dos 365 dias (na verdade tinha vontade disso já faz uns anos, mas nunca me animava o suficiente), não sei se vou conseguir postar uma foto por dia durante 365 dias, mas que não arrisca não petisca, não é mesmo?
Nunca vou saber se consigo ou não sem tentar antes, então vamo que vamo!
Iniciarei o projeto com a minha primeira leitura do ano, o livro O iluminado *__*
This is not the miniature seen in the film "The Shining." Upon closer inspection, this is a dark green styrofoam rendering. Perhaps this is the one made during pre-production. Kubrick often had scale models made of his various sets in order to see how they would photograph. I did not check to see any of the descriptions of this, so I cannot be sure if this is the case here.
You’re scared of room 237, ain’t ya?
A longtime and diehard fan of Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining and a bona fide Yosemite junkie, I’ve always viewed the interior of the Ahwahnee Hotel with a mixture of awe and dread. One can be forgiven if—upon first entering the grand hotel—he feels as though he’s just stepped from what John Muir called “the great temple,” into the lobby and great hall of the horrible Overlook Hotel. In fact, if there is a break in the illusion, it is that the common spaces of the Ahwahnee, rather than pregnant with foreboding silence, are overflowing with visitors.
This resemblance is no accident of course. Mr. Kubrick designed his set (especially the Colorado Room and the lobby) to mimic the Ahwahnee, and indeed, I have a hard time seeing the chandeliers, rugs, tables and windows of this hotel without imagining Mr. Torrance clacking away upon his Adler upon one of the long, sturdy tables. Smiling menacingly amidst the tourists and hikers come to catch a few moments rest by the enormous fireplace. All work and no play …
The great coup of The Shining was its replacement of Stephen King’s extensive backstory with a brooding atmosphere and a churning sense of doom. Mr. King allegedly hated it, but the rest of us fell in love with the film. No other film adaptation of Mr. King’s work risen to the mark that Stanley Kubrick set.
Now, Mr. Kubrick was a hell of a still photographer in his own right, and, for my money, it is no coincidence that he possessed a preternatural capability for creating mood. The greatest trick in still photography is to create a sense of place, to render a three-dimensional, flesh and blood world in the rectangular space of an emulsion or a computer screen replete with a taste of the subject’s emotive power. Now, there can be no argument that Mr. Kubrick achieved at least that throughout the film.
For my own part, I am fascinated with the reality that serves as the foundation for imagination and dreams. I’ve spent considerable time photographing The University of Chicago both because it served as the backdrop for a decade my own adventures and because it carries with it a germ of Oxford, one of many templates for Hogwart’s.
I can be forgiven then for long planning to shoot the Ahwahnee interiors. “But,” I always asked myself, “how to capture the silence and desolation that so defined the film?” How could I turn The Ahwahnee into The Overlook?
The answer came with a winter bug that laid me low. Feeling feverish and fortunate enough to be a guest, I sneaked out of bed late one night, closed the door gently behind me, and stepped into the long, carpeted hallways of The Overlook Hotel.
6 (six) degrees here in Austin today, with windchill it's ~10 degrees below zero.
I know I am whining, and East Coast people will laugh, but Austin is really not equipped for this. Proof; Austin Energy just declared there will be rolling blackouts
------------------------------------
Texas Statewide Power Emergency
February 2, 2010
At about 5:40 a.m., the Electric Reliability Council of Texas (ERCOT) enacted a system-wide emergency curtailment (EEA-Level 3) due to insufficient on-line generation to meet ERCOT statewide demand. The ERCOT system must shed 1,100 MW. Austin Energy’s share of that 1,100 MW is about 80 MW.
This means Austin Energy – on a rotating basis- must turn off about 40 circuits (we have 350 circuits) for about 30 minutes at a time following a pre-designed plan that distributes the circuit outages evenly throughout our service area. A circuit powers between 1,000 - 3,000 customers. The plan avoids critical loads such as hospitals and emergency resources.
There is no need to call in outages. Once power is off, customers are asked to turn off as many electronic appliances as is reasonably possible to make it easier to power Austin Energy circuits back up.
All generators in ERCOT are required to participate – regardless of whether Austin Energy has sufficient power in our community (which we do). This emergency is due to an imbalance in the statewide electric grid between the power being demanded statewide and the generation online at this time. More information as it becomes available.
austinenergy.posterous.com/statewide-power-emergencyhttp:...
I am REALLY loving the panorama and content fill features that Photoshop CS5. Both do outstanding work. This is a good example - I shot the two shots stitched together here fairly badly. I didn't leave enough overlap, and I apparently lifted the camera between the two shots when I turned it on the tripod (hence the black zone in the upper left). Also that stairwell railing has a lot of repetitive detail. I didn't expect PS could knit this together, but it proved me spectacularly wrong! There was also a black zone on the lower right but I used Content Fill to fill it (you can tell where it is as the lines of detail in the carpet suddenly becomes a bit of a jumble, but still, impressive). Unfortunately, content fill couldn't do anything about the missing ceiling.
Anyway, this is the haunted main staircase in the Stanley Hotel. I've featured it before but I thought I'd post this as the panorama gives a very different view. The side on the left here is where the spirit of Lord Dunraven will occasionally harass female guests, groping them and stealing their jewelry as they walk up the stairs.
Perspective isn't the key here, as is size, or scale. Now that we have two people posing next to the mural, we can see just how large it is in the gallery, and how it pretty much dominated that room. The fact that is in black and white and is not in bold shades makes it look ghostly, and a bit creepy as well, which is what I believe the exhibit creators had in mind.
You’re scared of room 237, ain’t ya?
A longtime and diehard fan of Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining and a bona fide Yosemite junkie, I’ve always viewed the interior of the Ahwahnee Hotel with a mixture of awe and dread. One can be forgiven if—upon first entering the grand hotel—he feels as though he’s just stepped from what John Muir called “the great temple,” into the lobby and great hall of the horrible Overlook Hotel. In fact, if there is a break in the illusion, it is that the common spaces of the Ahwahnee, rather than pregnant with foreboding silence, are overflowing with visitors.
This resemblance is no accident of course. Mr. Kubrick designed his set (especially the Colorado Room and the lobby) to mimic the Ahwahnee, and indeed, I have a hard time seeing the chandeliers, rugs, tables and windows of this hotel without imagining Mr. Torrance clacking away upon his Adler upon one of the long, sturdy tables. Smiling menacingly amidst the tourists and hikers come to catch a few moments rest by the enormous fireplace. All work and no play …
The great coup of The Shining was its replacement of Stephen King’s extensive backstory with a brooding atmosphere and a churning sense of doom. Mr. King allegedly hated it, but the rest of us fell in love with the film. No other film adaptation of Mr. King’s work risen to the mark that Stanley Kubrick set.
Now, Mr. Kubrick was a hell of a still photographer in his own right, and, for my money, it is no coincidence that he possessed a preternatural capability for creating mood. The greatest trick in still photography is to create a sense of place, to render a three-dimensional, flesh and blood world in the rectangular space of an emulsion or a computer screen replete with a taste of the subject’s emotive power. Now, there can be no argument that Mr. Kubrick achieved at least that throughout the film.
For my own part, I am fascinated with the reality that serves as the foundation for imagination and dreams. I’ve spent considerable time photographing The University of Chicago both because it served as the backdrop for a decade my own adventures and because it carries with it a germ of Oxford, one of many templates for Hogwart’s.
I can be forgiven then for long planning to shoot the Ahwahnee interiors. “But,” I always asked myself, “how to capture the silence and desolation that so defined the film?” How could I turn The Ahwahnee into The Overlook?
The answer came with a winter bug that laid me low. Feeling feverish and fortunate enough to be a guest, I sneaked out of bed late one night, closed the door gently behind me, and stepped into the long, carpeted hallways of The Overlook Hotel.
I do not envy the poor woman who had to type page after page after page of this for the movie. I hope she got paid per word, but knowing Kubrick's work methods he probably paid her by the hour -- especially if she was a fast typist. I think anyone would go on a killing spree after doing so many pages of this stuff.
You’re scared of room 237, ain’t ya?
A longtime and diehard fan of Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining and a bona fide Yosemite junkie, I’ve always viewed the interior of the Ahwahnee Hotel with a mixture of awe and dread. One can be forgiven if—upon first entering the grand hotel—he feels as though he’s just stepped from what John Muir called “the great temple,” into the lobby and great hall of the horrible Overlook Hotel. In fact, if there is a break in the illusion, it is that the common spaces of the Ahwahnee, rather than pregnant with foreboding silence, are overflowing with visitors.
This resemblance is no accident of course. Mr. Kubrick designed his set (especially the Colorado Room and the lobby) to mimic the Ahwahnee, and indeed, I have a hard time seeing the chandeliers, rugs, tables and windows of this hotel without imagining Mr. Torrance clacking away upon his Adler upon one of the long, sturdy tables. Smiling menacingly amidst the tourists and hikers come to catch a few moments rest by the enormous fireplace. All work and no play …
The great coup of The Shining was its replacement of Stephen King’s extensive backstory with a brooding atmosphere and a churning sense of doom. Mr. King allegedly hated it, but the rest of us fell in love with the film. No other film adaptation of Mr. King’s work risen to the mark that Stanley Kubrick set.
Now, Mr. Kubrick was a hell of a still photographer in his own right, and, for my money, it is no coincidence that he possessed a preternatural capability for creating mood. The greatest trick in still photography is to create a sense of place, to render a three-dimensional, flesh and blood world in the rectangular space of an emulsion or a computer screen replete with a taste of the subject’s emotive power. Now, there can be no argument that Mr. Kubrick achieved at least that throughout the film.
For my own part, I am fascinated with the reality that serves as the foundation for imagination and dreams. I’ve spent considerable time photographing The University of Chicago both because it served as the backdrop for a decade my own adventures and because it carries with it a germ of Oxford, one of many templates for Hogwart’s.
I can be forgiven then for long planning to shoot the Ahwahnee interiors. “But,” I always asked myself, “how to capture the silence and desolation that so defined the film?” How could I turn The Ahwahnee into The Overlook?
The answer came with a winter bug that laid me low. Feeling feverish and fortunate enough to be a guest, I sneaked out of bed late one night, closed the door gently behind me, and stepped into the long, carpeted hallways of The Overlook Hotel.
On my trip up to England this past week, I had one main priority: go to Stanley Kubrick's house.
Like most film lovers, I love Mr. Kubrick. I love all his movies and think he was a genius of his craft. The best that ever lived. Watch a movie every July 26th to celebrate his life and career. So naturally, when talks came up of me visiting my friend Sonia up in England (who shares a birthday with Mr. Kubrick), this trip was a must (it was, in fact, what led us to renting a car and attempting to drive up to Edinburgh. But Hertfordshire would be our first stop).
When we hit a gate (pictured here), we felt it was a major drawback. Sonia let out a giant "aww" as I had traveled all this way to be blocked by a gate. I wasn't about to just open it, respectinig Mr. Kubrick and Christiane's privacy. We could see his house from the gate, but I wanted to get a view unobstructed by trees (like the one pictured here, instead maybe catch a glimpse at the tree he's buried near?) But when a neighbor saw us stranded by the very gate, she advised us that it would be okay to press the button that opens the gate and drive through, "I do it all the time" she reassured us.
So we went through. Couldn't get much further though because we were hit by a second gate, and I didn't feel like crossing over this one. It led probably to the very front of the manor... and I didn't have the guts to invade the Kubrick's privacy any further. So we reversed and headed back to leave, when...
a lady who was walking her dog near the fence saw us and stared. We drove up to her, and she said hello. We greeted her back. I felt the need to add, because of my guilt, "I'm sorry, we're just huge Kubrick fans and wanted to visit his home." She replied, very unenthusiastically, "That's nice, you do know this is private property, don't you?" We took the hint, said our good-byes and left. The guilt only grew.
Now the question is, who was this woman? When I saw her, my first thought was, she's related to Stanley -- not a doubt in my mind. She even had the same features as him... so was she Vivian? The Kubrick's second and only surviving child? (not a child anymore, as she's in her 50s) Perhaps. Maybe Katharina, Stanley's stepdaughter. I didn't have the guts to ask. There's a story about how back in the day when reporters used to come to Stanley's house to ask for interviews, they wouldn't know what he looked like because he always use to guard himself from the public eye so he used to tell them "He's not home," and then shut the door, haha. She probably would've taken a page from his book as well. Sans door. And knowing that story, I feel even worse just having being on the property. Oh well, it was fun -- and Katharina or Christiane, if you're reading this, I'm sorry for crossing the grounds (I was in the silver VW Golf). I'm just a fan, a big big fan who came all the way from Los Angeles to check out Stan-the-man's home :)
We had the 550d on the dash while we drove in, so I'll get that video up later today -- but I didn't record our encounter with Katharina, unfortunately.
I still can't believe I saw Stanley Kubrick's house, the place where he lived the last 20 years of his life, the place where his wife currently lives, and the place where he and his daughter are buried. I'm Muslim and will be going to Mecca in a few months Inshallah, but talk about a pilgrimage! ;)
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blog: modenadude.com
The Stanley Hotel shows the uncut R-rated version of Stanley Kubrick's The Shining on a continuous loop on Channel 42 on guest room televisions. The hotel served as inspiration for the fictional Overlook Hotel in Stephen King's novel, The Shining. King conceived the idea for his third novel while staying at an empty Stanley at the end of a season with his wife. Contrary to information sometimes published, King was living in Boulder at the time and did not actually write the novel at the hotel. The Shining tells the story of a writer with a wife and son who accept the job of off-season caretaker at an isolated hotel, and after a paralyzing storm becomes influenced by the supernatural presence and descends into madness. The 1997 ABC television miniseries, The Shining, was filmed at the Stanley, although Mount Hood, Oregon's Timberline Lodge, stood in as the Overlook for Kubrick's cinematic version.
The Stanley Hotel, located at 333 Wonder View Avenue within sight of the Rocky Mountain National Park, was built and designed by Freelan O. Stanley and opened on July 4, 1909. Forced by poor health to move West, F.O. Stanley, co-inventor of the Stanley Steamer automobile, arrived in Estes Park in 1903. In 1907, he purchased 160 acres of land from Lord Dunraven and began construction on the Main Building of the hotel, one of 11 in the original complex, with timber cut from the Bear Lake burn in 1900 from land now known as Rocky Mountain National Park. The hotel, which initially included an ice pond, a water reservoir, and a 9-hole golf course, catered to the rich and famous, including early guests like Titanic survivor Margaret Brown, John Philip Sousa, Theodore Roosevelt, and the Emperor and Empress of Japan. Today, the neoclassical hotel sits on 55 acres of property with 138 guest rooms.
Many believe that the Stanley's haunted history is not relegated to the fictional realm. It is believed that Flora, Stanley's wife, continues to play the Steinway Grand Piano, still located in the ballroom, that he bought her for the grand opening in 1901. People have reported hearing piano music, and seeing the piano keys move but someone crosses the threshold of the ballroom, the music stops. F.O. Stanley is believed to haunt the Billiard Room and Lobby. Lord Dunraven reportedly can be spotted in room 407, where he turns the lights off and on and makes strange noises. The fourth floor hallways are said to be haunted by ghost children. Kitchen staff have reported hearing a party going on in the ballroom, only to find it empty. In one guest room, people claim to have seen a man standing over the bed before running into the cupboard. This same apparition is allegedly responsible for stealing guests' jewellery, watches, and luggage.
National Register #85001256 (1985)