That said, categories do matter. People build their wardrobes, calendars and chosen families around them. Loving a kind of music becomes living a kind of life. The messages that artists send out about matters that go beyond rhythm and noise -- like what it means to be a man, for example, or how a woman should behave -- influence fans' thinking beyond the reach of their headphones.

"Rock" is a category that some fans and artists diligently police these days. Interview somebody like Austin Winkler of the band Hinder, a self-styled champion of the rock and roll lifestyle, and you'll hear the word "real" tossed around about 100 times. And the triumphant returns of both Metallica and AC/DC, two of the most self-contained, successfully formula-bound bands still working, proves that there's a huge hunger for a rock sound and style that seems pure.

But that urge is so boring. Don't we all know that rock's been about faking it ever since Elvis slipped away from his mama and pretended to be Arthur "Big Boy" Crudup in a Memphis recording booth? Mick Jagger faked being Tina Turner; David Bowie faked being a space alien, an aristocrat and Greta Garbo, all at once. Robert Plant faked being a good wizard, and Jimmy Page faked being a bad one. Angus Young is STILL faking being a naughty schoolboy, and he's older than Dumbledore.

It seems silly that rock lovers would cling to the idea that there's a right way to live the lifestyle and crunch the power chords. But more than in maybe any other pop style, rock's habits of exclusion die hard. Notice one thing about the list of legendary posers above: all white, all male.

A diferencia de otros salones automovilísticos o electrónicos que han tenido lugar últimamente -o que directamente se han anulado-, el que es uno de los encuentros más importantes de Europa dedicados al manga no sabe nada de crisis económica: este año tienen más expositores que nunca y de hecho la facturación por este concepto ha aumentado un 15%.

Así que el manga capea bien por ahora el temporal e incluso este año el Saló contará con tres exposiciones en lugar de dos: el popularísimo Doraemon será el protagonista de una de ellas, junto a otra de fotografía sobre cosplayers -los jóvenes que se disfrazan de sus personajes favoritos de manga-, góticos y lolitas, y una tercera muestra sobre la obra de las autoras chilenas Acuarela, autoras del manga Obsession (Norma).

Manga y... política. La vitalidad del manga no es extraña: quizá el signo más extremo y ejemplar de su poderío es que el actual primer ministro japonés, Taro Aso, se declare otaku, y que hay hecho campaña incluso en el distrito tokiota de Akihabara, lugar de peregrinación para la cultura otaku y geek de su país. Antes de llegar a la cúspide, Aso, como Ministro de Asuntos Exteriores, creó el Premio Internacional del Manga, una estrategia diplomática cultural para su país, que puede promocionarse mostrando su cara más amable y popular. En Japón el manga tiene un público que alcanza a toda la población: ahí están los múltiples géneros, el shonen manga - para chicos adolescentes-, el shojo manga -para chicas-, el seinen manga - para jóvenes y adultos-, el josei manga -para mujeres jóvenes y adultas-, el kodomo -para niños pequeños-, el yaoi -historia de amor entre chicos-, el hentai -historias pornográficas-... y sus adaptaciones para televisión y cine: el anime.

¿Por qué tanto éxito? Como recuerda la profesora Brigitte Koyama-Richard en Mil años de manga (Electa), que acaba de aparecer en España, para explicar el éxito del manga hay que recurrir a la cultura ancestral de Japón, cuyas caricaturas más antiguas ya estaban llenas de humor y sátira, de modo que han existido similitudes pictóricas durante silgos hasta llegar al manga actual. Curiosamente, la palabra manga la acuñó, explica, el artista Hokusai -el autor de la icónica Gran ola de Kanagawa- en el siglo XIX, como el título de sus colecciones de dibujos. La palabra está compuesta de dos ideogramas: man - ejecutado con rapidez y ligereza- y ga - dibujo- y sería en el siglo XX cuando adoptaría el significado de tira cómica y de caricatura y sátira social. Paradójicamente, asegura, la palabra manga está hoy en desuso en Japón y sólo la utilizaban los nacidos antes de la guerra: para la generación posterior la palabra es cómic. El manga les suena a las estampas de la época de Edo.

¿Un nuevo japonismo? Como ejemplo de lo anteriormente dicho, a la presentación del Saló del Manga de este año en Casa Asia acudió esta semana el Cónsul General de Japón en Barcelona, Teruaki Nagasaki, que llegó a hablar de que quizá se esté dando en estos momentos un segundo japonismo, "como hace 150 años en Europa", cuando llegaron los grabados de ukiyo-e, que influyeron en los impresionistas y más allá -y también hubo influencias de vuelta-, siendo el ukiyo-e uno de los orígenes del manga. "No sé si es un segundo japonismo, pero no está sólo el manga, la gente se interesa por la comida, el karaoke, el cosplay, la lengua...", añadió el cónsul. pón y sólo la utilizan los nacidos antes de la guerra: para la generación posterior la palabra es cómic.El manga les suena a las estampas de la época Edo.

El Saló 2008. No es extraño pues que en el Saló del Manga de este año -para el que se esperan unas 62.000 personas, menos que el año pasado porque no hay puente- vuelva a haber cursos de todo tipo, desde japonés o kanji, a concursos de cosplay y karaoke, muchos videojuegos - Ian Lovett presentará en primicia su Fable II-, actuaciones musicales a cargo de los JAM Project -autores de los temas de las series Scrapped Princess o The SoulTaker-y talleres para aprender a crear manga. Los autores invitados de esta edición son, además de las Acuarela, la joven Junko Mizuno -autora del manga de La Sirenita-, Kaiji Kawaguchi -que presentará su Eagle. la forja de un presidente o Yoshizako Yasuhiko, el popular creador de Venus Wars o Gundam: The origin (Norma). Como siempre, el viernes los disfrazados de cosplay entrarán gratis al Saló.

Justo Barranco, La Vanguardia, 30.10.08

http://www.lavanguardia.es/lv24h/20081030/53568988722.html

For many South Africans, a vote against the governing party remains an unthinkable act of apostasy. In the last election, in 2004, the A.N.C. won more than two-thirds of the vote, while the party in second place attracted a mere 12 percent.

But no one governs forever, and the prevailing wisdom has long been that the biggest threat to the A.N.C. is not so much a strengthening of the “outs” as a split among the “ins,” with the party dividing in two, amoeba-like, a political mitosis with each competing body claiming to be the more legitimate.

Such a historic split now seems to be in the works, set in motion by the A.N.C. national executive committee’s recent decision to oust President Thabo Mbeki, Mr. Mandela’s successor, before his term expired. During the past few weeks, several prominent defectors from the party — all with unimpeachable credentials from the liberation struggle — have been barnstorming the country, claiming to be the true heirs of the A.N.C. legacy and fomenting political rebellion.

This weekend, they will be holding a convention in Johannesburg, and they have already announced that a new political party will be started on Dec. 16 in Bloemfontein, the same city where the A.N.C. was founded in 1912. The defectors have yet to announce a name for their organization, but the T-shirts being distributed call the movement the South African National Congress.

“We need no favors, just the right to go into the marketplace of ideas,” said Mbhazima Shilowa, a central figure in the insurrection and the former premier of Gauteng Province, which includes Johannesburg and Pretoria.

Already, the split has provoked a cross-fire of name-calling, with the A.N.C. leadership likened to warlords and the defectors referred to as traitors and dogs. Mr. Shilowa, once the nation’s top trade unionist, has been portrayed as a sellout who is overly fond of whiskey and cigars.

Though thousands have attended some of the breakaway group’s rallies, at times tearing up A.N.C. membership cards and stomping on the party’s flag, the coming convention will be the first real head count of the rebels’ strength. Is the A.N.C. faced with a sizable split or just an annoying crack at the seams?

“The A.N.C. is not just afraid, it is terrified,” said a political analyst, Justice Malala.

An A.N.C. insider, speaking on the condition of anonymity, said, “To stop this thing, favors are being called in, favors are being granted.”

But just what is the fight about? Actually, it is hard to say. Clearly, there is a clash of titanic personalities and loyalties; whether major principles are in dispute is more ambiguous. The A.N.C. prides itself on having a wide ideological wingspan within its top ranks, at once accommodating doctrinaire Communists and millionaire businessmen.

But as with any big family, there are also long, gnarled roots of hurt, years of grievances neither forgotten nor forgiven. The common cause of the liberation struggle has given way to the daily grind of governing. Some “comrades” get plum jobs, while others are left with sour grapes. The spoils of patronage are always at stake. Bids are always in the pipeline.

Several watershed events led to the current discord. In one of the most decisive, Mr. Mbeki was wrenched from the party helm in December, losing to his nemesis, Jacob Zuma.

This left South Africa with two rival centers of power. Mr. Mbeki remained the country’s president. Mr. Zuma, tainted by 12 charges of fraud, corruption and racketeering, was the president in waiting.

The animus between the factions has stayed at a simmer, and the aggressive zeal of some of Mr. Zuma’s supporters has made many South Africans cringe: A.N.C. members have threatened to “kill” if their man is kept from ascending to power in next year’s elections; they have donned T-shirts that herald Mr. Zuma’s roots — “100 percent Zulu boy”— introducing an element of ethnic rivalry into national politics.

Then came the public humiliation of Mr. Mbeki. After he stepped down as president in late September, the A.N.C. replaced him with a caretaker. Throughout, Mr. Mbeki has obeyed the party dictate and has played no visible role in the rebellion.

But others within the Mbeki faction have felt no similar constraints. The most visible rebel has been Mosiuoa Lekota, until recently the nation’s minister of defense. He earned the nickname Terror as a rampaging soccer player, and his speaking style is similarly combative, repeatedly punching all the hot buttons about Mr. Zuma: the Zulu boy T-shirts, the loose talk about “killing,” the lingering criminal allegations against him.

“It is said that there needs to be a political solution to Comrade Zuma’s legal troubles,” he said wryly in one speech. “What does this mean? Are you not then saying that when we all are caught stealing we will all be entitled to a political solution?”

The splintering of the A.N.C. makes riveting political theater, and many champions of democracy find the goings-on all to the good, like an antitrust suit to break up a monopoly. Two strong political parties would serve the people better than one, they say.

Others are warier. The country has “a propensity for violence,” wrote Mondli Makhanya, the editor in chief of The Sunday Times, warning of “just how easily the blood tap can be turned back on.”

Last week, Mr. Lekota traveled to Orange Farm, a destitute township south of Johannesburg. As he spoke inside a community center, a small pro-Zuma crowd stood outside the front gate, waving A.N.C. placards and dancing the toyi-toyi, a step made popular during anti-apartheid protests.

The more belligerent among them occasionally chanted, “Kill Lekota! Kill Shilowa!” Some, like Johnny Radebe, made bold threats: “If Terror Lekota comes here again, we will take up arms. We will shoot to kill.”

But as such things go, the protest was actually quite mild and certainly not the slugfest portrayed in some of the South African news media. Lost in the overheated reporting was the fact that most of the crowd was there out of curiosity rather than pugnacity. Unemployed, they had nothing else to do.

However much traction the new party is able to muster — against long odds with an election likely within the next six months — the political battle lies with winning over people who take liberation for granted and wonder when they will be lifted out of their appalling poverty.

“People in Orange Farm have been ignored forever,” said Lebohang Tsotetsi, 20, as he dawdled among the weary, sun-parched crowd. “Whether it’s the A.N.C. or not, what does it matter? We’re just waiting for a government that cares.”

Barry Bearak, The New York Times, 31.10.08

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/31/world/africa/31safrica.html?pagewanted=1&ref=africa

Selon cette étude, si les Français avaient dû voter à la mi-septembre pour le premier tour de l'élection présidentielle, 13% auraient donné leur suffrage au facteur révolutionnaire. Et ce, quel que soit le candidat du Parti socialiste.

69% des sympathisants de gauche ont une bonne image du leader de la LCR. A leurs yeux, il est "sympathique" (86%), "proche des gens" (83%), "courageux" (83%) et "honnête" (77%). L'explication de cette empathie : pour une grosse majorité de sympathisants de gauche, le postier "s'exprime avec des mots simples", est "intéressant" et "convaincant". Cette popularité reste cependant très attachée à la personne de M. Besancenot, tempère Vincent Tiberj, chercheur au Centre d'études de la vie politique française (Cevipof). "Du potentiel électoral au vote, il y a une marge", précise le politologue.

L'étude dessine en creux les défauts des autres leaders de gauche, en particulier ceux du PS. Quand on interroge les Français sur l'image donnée par M. Besancenot comme opposant à Nicolas Sarkozy, ils sont 71% à trouver qu'il "critique à juste titre le manque de réactions du PS" et 70% qu'il est toujours "aux côtés de ceux qui combattent les réformes du gouvernement". La proportion pour ces deux questions monte à 81% et 79% pour les sympathisants de gauche.

Le reproche en pointillé est encore plus criant quand les auteurs de l'étude ont demandé aux sondés ce qu'ils pensaient de l'utilité pour la gauche du leader de la LCR. Pour 73% des sympathisants de gauche, il "pousse le Parti socialiste à prendre en compte ses propositions" et fait bien le jeu de la gauche en étant "complémentaire des autres leaders de l'opposition". La critique d'un Besancenot allié objectif de M. Sarkozy, voire dangereux pour la gauche, ne prend pas.

"LE PS NE FAIT PAS SON BOULOT"

Dès la mi-septembre, les électeurs de gauche attendaient des réponses plus radicales et le disaient. 65% considéraient que "la France a besoin d'un parti anticapitaliste" et plébiscitaient les slogans de la LCR, comme l'interdiction des licenciements et, dans une moindre mesure, l'augmentation de 300 euros net de tous les salaires.

83% des sympathisants socialistes pensaient déjà que l'interdiction des licenciements devait être défendue par l'ensemble de la gauche. "Besancenot est populaire parce que le PS ne fait pas son boulot. L'enquête confirme que les électeurs du PS restent fidèles aux valeurs de gauche", remarque M. Tiberj. Les études sur la proximité partisane le montrent : seuls 4% des Français se disent proches de l'extrême gauche.

Le facteur révolutionnaire est perçu comme un leader à prendre au sérieux. Dans la même étude d'Opinion Way, 84% des électeurs de gauche estiment que le PS devrait "dialoguer" avec lui, au lieu de l'ignorer, "pour rechercher d'éventuelles alliances électorales". M. Besancenot a beau répéter qu'il souhaite "rester totalement indépendant", les sympathisants de gauche souhaitent son ancrage dans un rassemblement de l'opposition. 55% (62% au PS) estiment qu'en 2012, M. Besancenot devrait "appeler à voter clairement pour le candidat" du PS.

Ses partisans ne sont que 42% à partager cette opinion. Mais ils jugent qu'en cas de victoire de la gauche en 2012, leur champion devrait participer au gouvernement. Cette attente d'alliances souligne un peu plus le fossé entre les sympathisants de la gauche et leurs leaders. Y compris M. Besancenot.

Sylvia Zappi, Le Monde, 31.10.08

http://www.lemonde.fr/politique/article/2008/10/31/olivier-besancenot-a-gagne-en-credibilite-parmi-les-sympathisants-de-gauche_1113177_823448.html

"Vicky Cristina Barcelona es un bodrio al 100%. Más si cabe porque me concierne: afirmo que esa pelicula insulsa está basada en mi novela 'Goodbye, Barcelona', que ha sido plagiada descaradamente. Si la peliculita de Allen es un verdadero engendro es porque además mi novela ha sido desfigurada para evitar obviamente cualquier queja por mi parte", apunta Villar.

El escritor afirma que la novela 'Goodbye, Barcelona' está registrada en el Ministerio de Cultura desde el 1987, estuvo entre las finalistas al Premio Planeta de ese año y con ese título y quedó entre las 4 finalistas al Premio Plaza & Janés del 1989.

Además, denuncia que 'Goodbye, Barcelona' estuvo en lectura en numerosas editoriales españolas y extranjeras y en varias productoras cinematográficas.

"Evidentemente fuí el único no invitado a la ceremonia de lanzamiento de 'Vicky Cristina Barcelona', título que por cierto fue cambiado sobre la marcha por el horrendo actual sin duda para distanciarlo de mi novela, ya que al menos fonéticamente en habla inglesa se parecían demasiado", afirma. Y añade: "Soy un escritor maldito y arruinado porque en general todos los editores y productoras me han tomado el pelo toda la vida. Pero aunque maldito tengo el derecho al pataleo, por eso entre otras cosas está Internet, para dar voz a los que silencia el sistema monocorde imperante. Y no me voy a callar, jamás, por simple dignidad… Los jueces decidirán en breve".

La Vanguardia, La Vanguardia, 30.10.08

http://www.lavanguardia.es/lv24h/20081030/53570212677.html

Pour osées quelles soient, les démonstrations ne sont pas réellement convaincantes. Troublantes, parfois. Reste que réunir soixante-dix tableaux de Rouault, tous provenant de la collection de l'industriel japonais Sazo Idemitsu (1885- 1981), et surtout une quarantaine de toiles et de dessins de Pollock, dont une douzaine proviennent de ses héritiers, est aujourd'hui un exploit qu'il convient de saluer. Surtout pour un lieu privé, qui se passe des aides de l'Etat.

Chaque parcours se déploie sur un étage de l'immeuble de la place de la Madeleine. L'accrochage des Rouault est classique, celui de Pollock beaucoup moins. Car pour ce dernier, le parcours serpente au sous-sol du bâtiment, alternant les oeuvres de l'Américain, auxquelles ont été adjointes des tableaux du surréaliste André Masson, et des objets rituels des cultures amérindiennes.

L'historien d'art californien Stephen Polcari, commissaire de l'exposition, et Marc Restellini, le directeur des lieux, ont choisi une répartition thématique des oeuvres de Pollock, commençant par une rotonde où de longs textes dévoilent le contexte, les influences et les références de l'exposition. Un souci de didactisme louable, mais qui entraîne pour le public quelques bouchons.

Les salles suivantes égrènent des thèmes-clés de l'initiation d'un sorcier, comme "Le sacrifice et la mort", "La fusion de l'homme et de l'animal", ou encore "Germination et naissance". Il s'agit de montrer, comme l'écrit Marc Restellini, que les "drippings", les tableaux peints à plat, sur lesquels Pollock laisse s'écouler la peinture liquide, dans une gestuelle qui tenait effectivement de la danse, ne sont pas des oeuvres purement abstraites, comme on le pensait jusqu'alors, mais qu'elles peuvent receler des symboles et obéir à un rituel de type chamanique.

CALLIGRAPHIE JAPONAISE

Or, si l'intérêt de Pollock pour les arts amérindiens est avéré, il est plus délicat de faire fi du contexte de l'abstraction américaine d'après-guerre, où les enjeux se situaient ailleurs, du côté de Picasso, du surréalisme, et d'une conquête d'une indépendance artistique vis-à-vis de l'Europe. Nul doute que le livre que Stephen Polcari prépare sur le sujet sera âprement discuté par la communauté des historiens d'art.

Sorti des caves aux chamanes, le visiteur peut débuter son ascension vers Rouault. Elève de Gustave Moreau (l'homme qui, selon le mot féroce de Degas, "mettait des chaînes de montre aux dieux"), ami et condisciple de Matisse, Rouault a exploré le monde interlope du Paris de la fin du XIXe siècle, avant de se concentrer sur des tableaux d'inspiration religieuse. Le tirer vers le shintoïsme est impossible : seuls les natifs du Japon peuvent entretenir des rapports avec les kami, ces dieux qui sont aussi leurs cousins.

Pourtant, c'est ainsi que des Japonais eux-mêmes l'ont perçu : découvrant au début des années 1970 cette peinture aux couleurs cernées de noir, Sazo Idemitsu, qui collectionnait l'art de son pays et ne s'était jamais intéressé aux oeuvres occidentales, y vit des similitudes avec la calligraphie japonaise. Au point de devenir, avec un ensemble de 400 oeuvres, le plus important collectionneur privé de Rouault.

Harry Bellet, Le Monde, 31.10.08

http://www.lemonde.fr/culture/article/2008/10/30/exposition-pollock-et-rouault-deux-peintres-sorciers_1112905_3246.html#ens_id=1112978

En su estrategia, Rusia abarca desde Brasil a Argentina, pero sus principales pilares son Venezuela y Cuba, con los que ha formado un triángulo para "debilitar la influencia norteamericana", afirma Vladímir Simago, vicepresidente del consejo empresarial ruso-venezolano. El origen de este triángulo, opina, es "la irritación casi personal" que la política exterior de Bush ha provocado al jefe del Gobierno ruso, Vladímir Putin.

El resultado es una cierta simetría de actuación. Movido por los "sentimientos" de Putin, el Kremlin reproduce en América Latina su propia versión de los irritantes generados por Washington y sus aliados atlantistas en torno a las fronteras rusas en Europa y en el Cáucaso.

El presidente de Venezuela, Hugo Chávez, "golpeó largos años" las puertas de Rusia, mientras la prensa le trataba como "un personaje impulsivo y algo chalado", dice Simago. "El Kremlin frenaba sus relaciones con Venezuela para no estropear las relaciones con EE UU, lo que molestaba mucho a Chávez", añade. Pero la preocupación por la imagen se ha disipado. El venezolano ha estado dos veces en Rusia este año y el presidente, Dmitri Medvédev, que planea visitar Perú en noviembre para asistir al Foro de Cooperación Económica Asia-Pacífico (APEC), podría visitar también Venezuela.

Entre el 10 y el 14 de noviembre Rusia y Venezuela realizarán en el Caribe maniobras navales conjuntas que, de prevalecer el deseo de colaborar con Washington, podrían convertirse, según Simago, en una "invitación a la lucha conjunta contra la piratería marítima".

Los intercambios de Rusia con América Latina en su conjunto son algo mayores que con España, país que en 2007 supuso el 1,4% del volumen del comercio exterior ruso. Brasil, con un 1%, va a la cabeza, seguido de Argentina con un 0,3%, y México y Chile, con un 0,1%, respectivamente. No obstante, los planes son ambiciosos. Rusia ha firmado con Venezuela un memorando para crear un consorcio entre la compañía estatal de Petróleos de Venezuela (PDVSA) y un grupo de empresas rusas liderado por el monopolio del gas Gazprom.

El capítulo más sólido de la cooperación con América Latina es el de venta de armas, a través de Rosoboronexport, consorcio sancionado por EE UU por sus tratos con Irán. En los últimos tres años, Rusia y Venezuela han firmado contratos por más de 3.400 millones de euros que incluyen la venta de cazas Su-30MKV, helicópteros Mi-17, fusiles Kaláshnikov y una planta para fabricar estas armas.

Moscú prevé conceder a Caracas un crédito de unos 800 millones de euros para nuevas compras de armamento y negocia el suministro de Tanques T-72M y sistemas de defensa antiaérea.

La relación económica ruso-venezolana se ha hecho "más cerrada y más estatal" desde que Igor Sechin se ha convertido en el jefe de la comisión mixta ruso-venezolana, opina Simago. Sechin, que como Putin procede de los servicios de seguridad (el antiguo KGB), es el viceprimer ministro responsable de la política energética, y es considerado el principal artífice del acoso que llevó a la ruina a la petrolera Yukos en beneficio de la estatal Rosneft. La centralización de las relaciones económicas ruso-venezolanas "viola el principio del libre comercio y descuida los intereses de las pequeñas y medianas empresas y de las regiones de Rusia interesadas en Venezuela", afirma Simago.

La actividad de los allegados y paisanos de Putin en Latinoamérica es impresionante a juzgar por sus viajes. En menos de dos meses, Sechin, que preside también la comisión mixta intergubernamental ruso-cubana, ha estado dos veces en La Habana (una a fines de julio y otra en septiembre), y esta semana estará de nuevo en Caracas. Nikolái Pátrushev, jefe del Consejo de Seguridad, visitó Venezuela, Argentina y Ecuador en octubre tras estar en Cuba en julio (con Sechin). En La Habana, los altos funcionarios rusos abogaron por el restablecimiento y profundización de las "relaciones tradicionales" entre los dos países "en todas las esferas".

En Buenos Aires, Pátrushev mostró interés por el Consejo de Defensa Suramericano, un proyecto de la Unión de Naciones Suramericanas (Unasur) y solicitó incorporarse como observador, según el Ministerio de Defensa de Argentina. El periódico oficial Parlámentskaia Gazeta presentó la eventual incorporación de Moscú al grupo como una iniciativa de los "países latinoamericanos". Esto podría generar una cierta rivalidad con Brasil, que es el principal productor de armas en América Latina, afirma Simago. Precisamente, Río de Janeiro ha sido el lugar elegido por Gazprom para establecer su principal sede de Latinoamérica.

La solidaridad de Venezuela o Cuba con Moscú no ha llegado hasta el punto de reconocer a Osetia del Sur y Abjazia como Estados, cosa que sí ha hecho Nicaragua. "Venezuela no se lo puede permitir por sus tensiones internas y Cuba, por el respeto al principio de la integridad territorial", afirmaba una fuente latinoamericana. La ofensiva rusa incluye también a la Iglesia ortodoxa, que ha inaugurado un templo en La Habana y se plantea incrementar su red de parroquias en Latinoamérica.

Moscú mueve ficha

Seven months down the line, however, soft-drink company Dr Pepper's smug show of hip bravado in promising to give a free soda to everyone in America if Guns N'Roses' long-awaited Chinese Democracy album got released before the end of the year, may end up costing the company a pretty penny. Because, against all the odds, the notoriously fractious, deadline-dodging hard rock band finally got off its collective rear and announced that the album would indeed become fact rather than rumour this November. "We never thought this day would come," admitted Tony Jacobs, vice-president of marketing at Dr Pepper (though not, perhaps, for much longer).

To convince the sceptical, and frankly to indulge in a bit of melodramatic self-promotion, the band have placed a digital clock on their official website, counting down the days, hours, minutes and, yes, seconds until the album's release: the last time I checked it was arriving in 25 days, seven hours, one minute and 34 seconds... 33... oh, you get the idea.

Doubtless there are some fans whose computers will be permanently linked to the website, heavy metal fans being, as a rule, more stubborn in their devotion than the average punter. And hey, you get to hear the title track over and over again, so, given an infinite number of plays, you might eventually be able to make sense of what frontman (and sole surviving founder member) Axl Rose is jabbering on about. At the moment, I'm still trying to figure out the connection between this putative "Chinese Democracy", the Falun Gong cult, an iron fist and masturbation, these being the most prominent references discernible in the performance, apart from Rose's repeated claim that "it doesn't really matter". One suspects that, in this respect at least, he's getting close to the truth.

It's not hard to see why Dr Pepper got caught out by this sudden and uncharacteristic burst of activity on the band's part. Chinese Democracy has been some 14 years in the making, and rumoured to be imminently appearing for most of that time. It had become something of a standing music-biz joke, akin to "when hell freezes over". Nobody really expected it to see the light of day, especially since Rose had hired and fired so many musicians during its gestation that it would have surprised nobody if he had gone and fired himself, too. And when/if the album finally appears, it will be the first collection of new, original Guns N'Roses material since the two bloated double-albums Use Your Illusion I and II were released on the same day in 1991, a hiatus of almost Steely Dan proportions (they waited 20 years to follow up 1980's Gaucho).

But the Pepper people overlooked the inhuman stamina of heavy metal bands, who are the cockroaches of the music world: unchanged since primitive times, and virtually impossible to kill. Just look at Ozzy Osbourne, who's sustained as concerted a campaign of serious self-harm as seems humanly possible, yet still refuses to turn up his toes. Pump him full of drugs, pickle him in booze, force him to eat bats, crush him under a quad-bike, and still he'll get up, scratching his head blankly, and stumble into the next disaster.

Just look at Dave Mustaine of Megadeth, who told me that when he was pulled over in his car and arrested, he was under the influence of nine different chemicals.

Just look at Def Leppard's drummer: lost an arm in a car crash, and still carried on drumming, regardless.

Just look at Lemmy – no, on second thoughts, don't bother. Staring at the naked sun would be less harmful.

You see, there's simply no way of stopping a heavy metal band, if they don't want to stop. Take the case of Canadian band Anvil, formed way back in the mists of time – well, the late Seventies, at least. But, despite a lack of interest on the part of the paying public, they never considered jacking it in and becoming decorators or IT consultants.

Instead, Anvil plodded gamely on, releasing an album every two or three years, watching their appeal becoming ever more selective, to use the appropriate Spinal Tapism. Until one wonderful day – and frontman Steve "Lips" Kudlow has admitted weeping tears of gratitude and joy that day – film director Sacha Gervasi, an Anvil fan since meeting the band when he was a 15-year-old Westminster schoolboy, told them he'd like to make a documentary about them. The result, Anvil! – The Story of Anvil, has been widely acclaimed as a real-life Spinal Tap saga with a touching subtext of artistic dedication, and looks set finally to secure a grateful trio of superannuated longhaired rockers their day in the sun after three decades of disappointment.

It's this kind of perseverance against all odds that means no heavy metal band ever truly dies – as the joke goes, they just smell that way. However inactive they may appear to the casual observer, they have never actually quit. Occasionally, you can glimpse the furious underwater paddling required to sustain the surface cool, most intriguingly in the documentary Some Kind of Monster, which Metallica hoped would chart the triumphant progress of their recording the long-awaited follow-up to their Load and ReLoad albums, but which instead revealed a degree of creative bankruptcy so pronounced that they were forced to hire a "performance-enhancing coach". The resulting album, 2003's St Anger, was generally regarded as one of the poorest of their career. Five years later, their Death Magnetic was not awaited with quite the same eagerness.

Sometimes, it's just a matter of playing the waiting game, and playing it long enough. When Aussie rockers AC/DC, the biggest-selling heavy metal band in the world, with album sales in excess of 200 million, signed a huge multi-album deal with Sony in 2002, some observers believed both parties were being disingenuous about their real motives, with the band grabbing one last big pay-day, and the label grabbing the rights to remastered reissues of rock's most successful back catalogue. After all, AC/DC hadn't released anything since the patchily received Stiff Upper Lip in 2000. The game appeared to be more or less up.

As the years passed, people simply assumed AC/DC had settled into retirement. Band members would talk of working on a 16th album, but most readers took this with a pinch of salt. The lengthening delay was blamed on business matters, then on bassist Cliff Williams's injured hand. Another AC/DC album wasn't so much long-awaited as unexpected. But then, a leisurely eight years on, out of the blue came their Black Ice album, which unlike its immediate predecessor became a global hit. Exactly why remains a mystery: Black Ice isn't a significantly better or more appealing effort than Stiff Upper Lip, and it wasn't as if the band had been on the road, stirring up interest. As with Guns N'Roses, AC/DC's sole promotional gambit in recent years was the inclusion of one of their songs in the Rock Band 2 videogame – and unlike GN'R, who whetted appetites with a new track from Chinese Democracy, they were represented by the hoary old crowd-pleaser "Let There Be Rock". Sometimes, it seems, simply being absent for long enough is itself enough to spark a revival of interest.

Few bands, though, have been absent for as long as Guns N'Roses. After a while, it seemed that their productive period had simply been a blip in their longer-term career of inactivity punctuated by bouts of mutual antipathy and recreational drug use on a heroic scale. One by one, Rose alienated the other members until they quit the band.

First to go was guitarist Slash, the main rival to Rose's dominance, who later admitted feeling "suicidal" when the singer rejected his songs then, without consultation, brought in a replacement guitarist. Slash was followed by the other members, while Rose exerted increasingly dictatorial control over a string of replacements, who had to submit to character analyses by the singer's guru. The most intriguing new member was the avant-garde rock guitarist Buckethead, so named for his habit of wearing a KFC bucket on his head; one can only imagine the personal quirks of those prospective band members who failed the guru's supposed "psychic inspections".

Rejecting his record label's suggestions that he work with a reputable producer, Rose assumed complete control over the recording process, employing the crew and musicians on costly retainers, but himself appearing less and less frequently at the studio, as he slipped into a prolonged reclusion that made it increasingly unlikely anything would come from the sessions. That something eventually did can surely be attributable, at least in part, to Rose's new alliance with über-manager Irving Azoff, formidable helmsman of the careers of such as The Eagles, Steely Dan, Christina Aguilera, Seal, Neil Diamond and, more recently, Morrissey. Whatever Rose's personal foibles, it's unlikely that a mover and shaker of Azoff's power would be willing to sit by and let such a potentially profitable project wither on the vine. Just seven months after Rose became Azoff's client, the album's release was finally announced.

So it's now only a matter of days until Chinese Democracy appears. A landmark of sorts, I suppose, but by no means the most eagerly anticipated of comeback heavy rock albums. There's one that's been "long awaited" now for over a quarter of a century – and with Robert Plant refusing to get involved, it looks like we'll just have to wait a few years longer.

Andy Gill, The Independent, 31.10.08

http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/features/the-monsters-of-rock-return-979860.html

C'était le premier jour de neige de l'hiver, quinze jours avant Noël dernier. En rentrant à la maison où elle vivait avec sa sœur et sa nièce dans un quartier du nord-ouest de Detroit, Sandra Hines a trouvé tous leurs meubles et leurs affaires dans deux bennes posées dans la rue. «Des objets venant de ma mère, les albums photos de famille, c'est toute votre vie que vous retrouvez là, sur le trottoir», se souvient cette femme de 54 ans. Six mois plus tôt, les deux sœurs avaient reçu une notification d'expulsion à la suite d'impayés sur leur emprunt. La maison de style colonial, dans la famille depuis quarante ans, était pourtant payée depuis longtemps. Mais la sœur de Sandra l'avait donnée en garantie d'une hypothèque sur un emprunt souscrit lorsque sa pension d'invalidité versée par General Motors a diminué de moitié. Comme souvent dans ces prêts «toxiques», le montant du remboursement a bondi tout d'un coup de 500 à 800 dollars par mois, tandis que Sandra perdait son emploi d'assistante sociale dans une école lors d'une vague de réductions d'effectifs municipaux. Depuis, les sœurs Hines ont trouvé refuge chez un neveu. «Sans lui, nous serions à la rue. Perdre sa maison, c'est comme mourir. Vous perdez tout, vos souvenirs, vos voisins, votre emploi, vous ne pouvez plus compter sur personne», témoigne Sandra. Estimée à 100 000 dollars au moment de l'emprunt, sa maison, devenue propriété de la banque, est à vendre pour… 14 000 dollars, et tombe en décrépitude faute d'acheteur.

Moratoire de 90 jours

Lundi dernier, avec une poignée d'autres militants, Sandra manifestait devant la mairie de Detroit pour réclamer un moratoire de deux ans sur les expulsions. Le sénateur démocrate de la ville, Hansen Clarke, a proposé au Congrès du Michigan un projet de loi en ce sens, qui suscite l'opposition des républicains. Obama, lui, a repris la proposition d'Hillary Clinton d'un moratoire de 90 jours. Certains États ont déjà adopté des mesures de ce type, permettant au nombre de saisies de ralentir de 12 % en septembre par rapport à août - même si elles ont augmenté de 21 % par rapport à septembre 2007.

Plus de 2,3 millions de logements ont fait l'objet d'une procédure de saisie depuis le début de l'année dans le pays. Le Michigan est le sixième État américain le plus touché, après le Nevada, la Floride, la Californie, l'Arizona et la Géorgie. Une maison sur 194 est concernée dans le comté de Wayne, où se trouve Detroit. En septembre, les prix de l'immobilier ont chuté de 34 % dans la ville. Deux tiers des transactions immobilières portent sur des saisies. L'Agence fédérale de garantie des dépôts bancaires, à Washington, travaille sur un plan de 40 milliards de dollars d'aide aux propriétaires qui peinent à rembourser leurs prêts, l'une des causes de la crise économique et financière.

Florentin Collomp, Le Figaro, 31.10.08

http://www.lefigaro.fr/elections-americaines-2008/2008/10/31/01017-20081031ARTFIG00019-expropries-ils-craignent-de-ne-pas-pouvoir-voter-.php

John Podesta, a former chief of staff to Bill Clinton, is heading the team and has been tasked with supplying names which are being vetted for a high level of security clearance by the FBI and the Department of Homeland Security, for inclusion in a new Democratic administration. Secrecy surrounding the arrangements governing the 11-week transition from election to inauguration is such that it is described as "a black box" by one individual familiar with the arrangements.

Mr Podesta, who is also the head of a Washington-based think-tank, the Centre for American Progress, has already distributed a 26-page document to top campaign aides. It describes in fine detail everything the last five presidents did on each day of the transition period from election day to the inauguration on 20 January 2009. Democrats are anxious to avoid a repeat of the Bill Clinton transition in 1992 which did not begin properly until after the election and resulted in a difficult first 100 days.

John McCain has been mocking his opponent for prematurely engaging in a "victory lap", after reports emerged that a draft speech has already been written by Mr Podesta for his inauguration. But Mr McCain also has a transition team in place which is led by the former Navy secretary John Lehman.

Whoever becomes president will face an unprecedented set of challenges ranging from containing the fallout from the global economic mayhem to the war in Iraq, halting Iran's race for nuclear weapons, and the increasingly worrying situation in Afghanistan and Pakistan. All that is without an unexpected domestic crisis rearing up.

Democrats worry also that George Bush could use the transition period to try to secure his own legacy by handcuffing his successor with policy changes forced through by executive order. Political appointees considered ideologically questionable by Democrats are also "burrowing in" to secure career appointments in the federal bureaucracy. Among those lining up to secure high-profile jobs in an Obama administration are many dinosaurs familiar from Bill Clinton's second term, including Mr Podesta himself, and Madeleine Albright, the former secretary of state.

But there is also much to suggest that Mr Obama wants a fresh start. For the past two years he has been surrounded by a tightly knit group of advisers. These include Mark Lippert, his longest-serving foreign policy adviser, who is also an Iraq war veteran. Though hardly a household name, diplomats do not discount the possibility that Mr Lippert could emerge at the head of Mr Obama's team of 300 foreign affairs advisers to be named secretary of state.

As Washington indulges in a frenzy of rumour about the make-up and policies of a possible Obama administration, hot off the presses comes Changing America, a 50-chapter book by Mr Podesta advising the Illinois senator how to run a new Democratic administration.

Mr Obama might ignore Mr Podesta's detailed departmental suggestions, but he and his aides are expected to give serious consideration to many of them. Some indication of Mr Obama's priorities for government came in an answer he gave during the final presidential debate. Asked what sacrifices he would expect of Americans to get the country moving, Mr Obama cited reform of energy consumption. With an economic hurricane battering the country, plans for health care reform may have to make way for keeping people in their homes.

Mr Podesta created the Centre for American Progress think-tank just over four years ago to provide an antidote to the Heritage Foundation, the conservative intellectual powerhouse of the right. Today it has 150 staff and spends more than $25m a year.

Jennifer Palmieri, another former Clinton White House official and now spokeswoman for the centre, describes the organisation as a Democratic "government in waiting". But she expects it to speak out if it disagrees with an Obama administration.

"There will be times we will be an irritant," said Ms Palmieri.

Regime change: How past presidents chose their teams

Jimmy Carter Elected 2 November 1976

A stranger to Washington and anxious to avoid the bunker mentality of the Nixon presidency, Jimmy Carter chose his cabinet well before announcing his White House staff. Five weeks after the election, Cyrus Vance was named as secretary of state. By 23 December, Carter had completed his cabinet selections.

Ronald Reagan Elected 4 November 1980

Reagan's team opened the doors to ideologues from the Heritage Foundation who set about instituting the "Reagan Revolution". Led by Reagan's chief of staff in Sacramento, Ed Meese, the transition team filtered nominees through a "kitchen cabinet" of Reagan's California friends. On 22 December, Reagan added a lone black (Samuel Pierce, housing and urban development) and lone woman (Jeane Kirkpatrick, United Nations) to his cabinet.

Bill Clinton Elected 3 November 1992

The Clinton transition was downright chaotic. In 1992, Warren Christopher ran Bill Clinton's drama-filled transition team and his vice-presidential search.

The first few weeks of the Clinton administration were packed with crises, starting with the nomination of Zoe Baird as his Attorney General. It turned out she had hired two illegal immigrants to work in her home and not paid social security taxes.

Leonard Doyle, The Independent, 31.10.08

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/as-voting-begins-obama-plans-transition-to-the-white-house-980260.html

Pourtant, en cette matinée du mercredi 29 octobre, une foule nombreuse se presse dans le hall central de Tempelhof : des curieux, Berlinois pour la plupart, venus dire adieu à cet aéroport mythique situé en plein coeur de la capitale allemande. Quatre-vingt-cinq ans après sa mise en service, Tempelhof devait fermer définitivement jeudi soir à minuit.

Au début du XXe siècle, il était le plus grand aéroport d'Europe. Mais ce symbole de la mégalomanie d'Adolf Hitler, avec son monumental terminal de 1,2 km de long construit par les nazis, n'était plus adapté : trop coûteux, et, surtout, trop enchâssé dans le tissu urbain. En 2007, il n'a accueilli que 350 000 passagers, contre 19 millions à Tegel et Schönefeld, les deux autres aéroports de la ville. D'ici à 2011, la municipalité prévoit d'ouvrir un aéroport unique, le Berlin-Brandebourg-international (BBI), sur le site de Schönefeld.

C'est une page d'histoire qui se tourne. Dans le coeur des Berlinois, Tempelhof est d'abord l'aéroport du pont aérien, qui permit aux habitants de l'Ouest de résister au blocus soviétique de 1948-1949. A l'époque, les avions américains atterrissaient toutes les quatre-vingt-dix secondes, chargés jusqu'à la gueule en ravitaillement.

QUE VA DEVENIR CET ESPACE ?

"Je vivais à Berlin-Est, mais, parfois, j'apercevais les appareils. C'était réconfortant : le monde ne nous oubliait pas", se souvient Gerd Wegemann, retraité berlinois. "Cette fermeture est dans l'ordre des choses. Mais nous sommes là car voulions nous imprégner encore une fois de l'atmosphère de ce lieu", complète son épouse Anne. Le couple est venu participer à un dernier vol touristique à bord d'un vieux DC-3 à hélices, l'un de ces fameux "Rosinenbomber" (littéralement "bombardier de raisins secs"), en référence aux friandises que les pilotes américains lançaient depuis les airs aux enfants de la capitale.

Tous les Berlinois ne se montrent pas aussi résignés que les Wegemann. L'aéroport devait accueillir, jeudi soir, une cérémonie d'adieu. Au même moment, des centaines d'opposants à la fermeture ont prévu de manifester, en signe de protestation. Au printemps, ces "défenseurs de Tempelhof" avaient organisé un référendum pour tenter de le maintenir en activité. Sans succès.

Et après ? Que va devenir cet espace de 380 hectares, avec son terminal classé monument historique ? Espace vert, parc d'attractions, centre culturel... Pour l'heure, rien n'est arrêté, et le Sénat de Berlin a lancé un appel à projets. Parmi les idées qui ont filtré, le Herta, l'équipe de football de la capitale classée en première division, se verrait bien y installer son nouveau stade.

Marie de Vergès, Le Monde, 31.10.08

http://www.lemonde.fr/europe/article/2008/10/30/les-berlinois-disent-adieu-a-tempelhof-l-aeroport-symbole-du-pont-aerien_1112858_3214.html#ens_id=1112941

"Conscientes de las enormes deudas que aún tenemos, pero orgullosos de haber puesto la piedra basal de la democracia para siempre en Argentina", así describió ayer, en un artículo publicado por el diario Crítica, cómo se sentía el radical Raúl Alfonsín, que ganó las elecciones presidenciales del 30 de octubre de 1983 por el 51% de los votos contra el 40% del peronista Ítalo Luder. "Costó 50 años de golpes entender que sólo el pueblo decide su destino", añadió el ex presidente.

Anoche, la Unión Cívica Radical (UCR), que aún es la segunda fuerza parlamentaria pese a su debilitamiento de los últimos años, organizó una celebración en la que confiaban juntar a unas 10.000 personas. Esperaban además, al cierre de esta edición, que Alfonsín, de 81 años y muy grave de salud, pudiese finalmente asistir. Al acto también iban a concurrir dos ex dirigentes radicales de peso en la actualidad política: el vicepresidente argentino, Julio Cobos, que llegó a ese cargo en alianza con la presidenta Cristina Fernández, y la líder de la segunda fuerza de las elecciones presidenciales de 2007, Elisa Carrió (Coalición Cívica).

En una manifestación de respaldo a Alfonsín, jóvenes radicales se instalaron desde la mañana frente a su domicilio, en la avenida de Santa Fe 1600, en el Barrio Norte porteño, con una bandera gigante roja y blanca y la leyenda "¡Fuerza, Raúl!".

A principios de octubre, la presidenta Fernández lo había recibido a Alfonsín en la Casa Rosada para rendirle homenaje. "Como presidente, es usted el símbolo del retorno a la democracia de la República Argentina", le dijo la jefa de Estado.

Alfonsín comentó a Efe que después de 25 años de democracia aún falta en Argentina "pan, techo y trabajo". En declaraciones a la misma agencia, la líder de Madres de Plaza de Mayo Línea Fundadora, Tati Almeida, destacó: "A una le parece mentira que podamos festejar estos gobiernos constitucionales, poder elegir después de tanto horror, de ese genocidio. A esta democracia hay que cuidarla y defenderla". No obstante, lamentó que "Alfonsín perdió la oportunidad de pasar a la historia, porque con una mano firmó el juicio a las juntas militares y con la otra las leyes de impunidad", que beneficiaron a unos mil subordinados de las fuerzas de seguridad.

Después de la crisis económica que terminó con el Gobierno de Alfonsín, el peronista Carlos Menem (1989-1999) indultó a los líderes de la dictadura. Después llegó el turno del radical Fernando de la Rúa (1999-2001), cuya gestión acabó con otra crisis no sólo económica sino política, en la que se sucedieron varios presidentes en pocas semanas hasta que asumió el poder el también peronista Eduardo Duhalde (2002-2003), elegido por el Congreso. Después fue votado Néstor Kirchner (2003-2007), que es reconocido por los organismos de derechos humanos por su impulso a la reanudación de los juicios contra todos los criminales de la última dictadura (1976-1983).

El vicepresidente del Gobierno de Alfonsín, Víctor Martínez, también aportó su balance sobre los 25 años de democracia: "Es un festejo que no deja de tener momentos ingratos. Se han debilitado muchas instituciones de la democracia. Hoy seguimos teniendo pobreza. Hoy hay más concentración de riqueza, nada parecido a la justicia social".

Alejandro Rebossio, El Pais, 31.10.08

http://www.elpais.com/articulo/internacional/25/anos/record/democratico/elpepuint/20081031elpepuint_2/Tes

But she also had the ability to self-destruct. Falling into a vicious downward spiral of drink and drugs, the navy officer's daughter ended up amid the rough and tumble of Delhi's side streets. Her only accessory there was an open palm that begged for money.

Now Ms Nagpal is back on the gossip pages of India's newspapers, but for reasons other than she might prefer. A movie called Fashion that highlights the dark side of the industry and is allegedly partly based on her rise and fall, is due to open across the country this weekend and a debate has broken out over whether the 32-year-old former model is being further exploited.

The controversy began last week when it was reported that the actress Kangana Ranaut had told an interviewer that her part in Fashion was based on the experiences of Ms Nagpal. This news was instantly seized upon by the Delhi Commission for Women (DCW), a group that had helped Ms Nagpal when she was discovered on the streets of the capital last year. Its chairwoman, Barkha Singh, made clear that they were not trying to ban the film outright but were concerned that the movie might portray the young woman in a bad way and that her recovery from a mental breakdown could be set back.

"From the court hearings to the rehabilitation centre, it was the commission that took care of Gitanjali," Ms Singh told reporters last week. "Now she is trying to recuperate away from public life. We want to be sure the film in question does not show anything that is objectionable or derogatory to Gitanjali Nagpal's image or character, which in turn may affect her physical or mental health adversely."

There was plenty of reason to be concerned. In September 2007 when Ms Nagpal was discovered on south Delhi's streets by journalists she could have been a million miles from the catwalks she once sashayed down. While the woman who had attended the city's Lady Shri Ram College – one of India's leading universities – still retained some of her natural looks, her hair was matted in dreadlocks, her clothes were dirty and doctors who later inspected her said her body was covered with sores.

She had apparently been living in parks and temples in the Hauz Khas area of the city, a part of south Delhi filled with old buildings dating to the Moghul empire. The woman who had once modelled high-end designer couture for the fashionistas of Mumbai said she had been working as a maid and prostituting herself to finance an addiction to drugs and alcohol. Asked if she still enjoyed fashion, she replied: "I like fission, nuclear fission." Asked about her current hobbies, she responded: "Hobbies as in Calvin and Hobbes?" Yet for all her seeming ability to shoot back with smart answers, it was terribly clear that something was wrong. "I have no clue where I am going," she said. "I have a hotel in outer space."

Precisely what condemned Ms Nagpal to such a wretched life is unclear. Newspaper reports at the time said she had lived a "tempestuous" decade riddled with failed relationships, career setbacks and a drug habit. She apparently had an estranged husband who was living with their son in Germany and more recently had been living with a British boyfriend she had met in Goa. They had been living in an area of Delhi beloved by backpackers and famous for its cheap guesthouses and hotels.

When they split up she had nowhere to go other than the city's ubiquitous temples. It was at that point that the women's commission got involved in Ms Nagpal's life. Physically shepherding her, first to a police station and then to the Vidyasagar Institute of Mental Health and Neuro Sciences, a hospital that specialises in the issues that the convent-educated young woman was facing, the organisation sought to keep her away from the spotlight.

They also obtained a court order allowing them to obtain medical help for Ms Nagpal, who required sedatives. "She was violent and had to be forced into the hospital," a member of staff told journalists. "She was administered certain psychotropic drugs after which she slept for eight hours."

Twelve months later – as a movie subtitle might say – Ms Nagpal is out of hospital and living with her mother in the town of Haridwar, located alongside the cold, clean waters of the Ganges in the foothills of the Him-alayas. Neither she nor her mother give interviews and she does not want to be reminded of the past.

It was at this point that the commission learnt of the imminent release of Fashion and of Kangana Ranaut's purported interview claiming that her role in the film was inspired by Ms Nagpal's life. What they were not aware of, however, was that the film's director, Madhur Bhandarkar, had insisted that the movie was not based on the young woman's misfortunes. There were many young models who had fallen foul of the fashion industry, said Bhandarkar, and his tale was generic rather than specific. "I know the fashion industry is very apprehensive about my film," he said. "But they are also eager to know what Fashion is all about and how I've treated it on celluloid. My films just hold up a mirror to society."

Asked directly about the inspiration for Ranaut's character, he replied: "Kangana Ranaut's role was written much before the entire Gitanjali Nagpal episode. The only common chord between them is probably the hairdo – the curly hairstyle. I don't know why the media started portraying them like Siamese twins. Kangana's role is not inspired by Gitanjai Nagpal."

This week Bhandarkar agreed to be summoned by the commission and its chairwoman, Barkha Singh, to explain his film. He left after three hours, having apparently persuaded the members that while his movie might throw some light on the seedier side of the fashion industry, it was not going to further humiliate the young women they had worked to help. Members of the commission will see the film, also starring Priyanka Chopra, over the weekend and decide for themselves.

Speaking last night, Ms Singh said: "He told us that there are lots of models who share the same story [as Ms Nagpal]. He spoke for three hours and he has given us his word in writing that it is not based on Gitanjali."

Asked about the young model who so dramatically fell from the catwalk to the gutter, she said: "She is OK but she is upset. She wants to keep a low profile."

Fashion victims Models who buckled

* Gia Marie Carangi was one of the top models of the 1970s and 1980s, whose picture graced the covers of Cosmopolitan and Vogue. But the Italian-American supermodel became addicted to heroin and died of Aids aged 26. Angelina Jolie played Carangi in a biographical film in 1988.

* The Bristol-born model Sophie Anderton was addicted to cocaine which caused her weight to drop to six and a half stone. She recovered and took part in ITV's I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here! in 2005. But she says the enormous pressures to stay thin in the industry encourage models to take an illegal substance that is well known for suppressing appetite.

* A Russian Vogue cover girl, Ruslana Korshunova, committed suicide last June by falling from her ninth-floor Manhattan apartment. The 20-year-old from Kazakhstan had complained of stomach aches after losing weight and dropping to a size four, in the month before her death. Her ex-boyfriend said she had trouble balancing her personal life with work.

Andrew Buncombe, The Independent, 31.10.08

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/asia/flashback-for-a-model-who-fell-off-the-catwalk-980267.html

À soixante-sept ans, brusquement, tout change. L'amour, l'amour absolu, lui tombe dessus sans crier gare. La responsable s'appelle Jeanne Loviton. Elle signe ses romans d'un nom masculin, Jean Voilier. Les photographies, qui datent de la guerre, laissent entrevoir une belle brune aux cheveux courts et à la silhouette dynamique. C'est une croqueuse d'hommes qui séduit un grand écrivain au soir de sa vie. Il a le double de son âge. Dans une lettre, il s'en émeut  : « Ah ! l'affreux trop tard ! » pour succomber un mot plus loin : « Et t'aimer ». Enfin, il laisse son cœur parler. Leur liaison durera sept ans. Elle illuminera les dernières années de Valéry, qui se met à écrire des poèmes transis d'amour et de sensualité avec la fougue d'un adolescent débordé. « Jeanne, ton corps me suit. Ô mains pleines de Jeanne / Ô pensée où revient ton silence et ta voix. »

Naîtront plus de cent cinquante poèmes et un millier de lettres qui rythmeront leurs semaines et se glisseront entre leurs rendez-vous dominicaux. Le poète de l'intellect se livre comme jamais dans ces écrits. On y découvre un être hypersensible, malicieux, à la plume volontiers voluptueuse, parfois teintée d'une touchante naïveté et qui, bientôt, montrera l'étendue de sa souffrance. Car cette parenthèse se clôt quelques mois avant la mort de Paul Valéry. Jean Voilier le quitte pour l'éditeur Robert Denoël. Effondré, le vieil homme, malade, prend le temps de relire tous ces poèmes et de les commenter, sa lucidité intellectuelle intacte. Voulait-il en réserver la publication à un cercle d'intimes ? Il n'aura pas le temps de décider puisque la mort le saisit au printemps de 1945.

Vente aux enchères

Commence alors la seconde histoire, celle de la mise au tombeau de ces documents et de leur redécouverte par l'éditeur Bernard de Fallois, qui les publie aujourd'hui. « Les spécialistes de Valéry connaissaient leur existence, souligne Michel Jarrety, auteur d'une biographie consacrée à l'écrivain sortie en avril dernier chez Fayard. Sa famille, c'est-à-dire sa femme puis sa fille, a toujours voulu une certaine discrétion sur le sujet. Aujourd'hui, sa petite-fille porte forcément un regard plus distancié sur ces poèmes, dont la publication apporte une pierre à la connaissance de l'auteur. Lui-même y pensait. Il avait demandé à sa maîtresse de lui renvoyer certains d'entre eux pour qu'il puisse les retravailler. »

Il a donc fallu attendre plus de soixante ans pour les redécouvrir, alors qu'ils n'étaient même pas cachés. Jean Voilier, en femme de tête et… d'affaires avisée, avait en effet vendu ces documents aux enchères, en 1979 à Paris et en 1982 à Monte-Carlo. Un grand nombre des poèmes avait alors rejoint l'université Keio, au Japon. Michel Jarrety, dans sa biographie de Valéry, et Célia Bertin, dans son livre sur Jean Voilier, parus tous deux cette année, les évoquent. C'est là qu'intervient Bernard de Fallois. Piqué par la curiosité à la lecture de ces ouvrages, l'éditeur a succombé. Il raconte sa révélation dans la postface du recueil tout neuf de Corona et Coronilla. « On les cherche, on les trouve, on s'étonne qu'ils soient si nombreux », écrit-il, visiblement charmé. Il ne conçoit pas, dès lors, que ces poèmes puissent rester dans l'ombre, eux qui éclairent d'une lumière si douce le grand homme rattrapé par l'amour.

Françoise Dargent, Le Figaro, 30.10.08

http://www.lefigaro.fr/livres/2008/10/30/03005-20081030ARTFIG00356-valery-chantre-de-l-amour-fou-.php

Tanto portavoces de la Fuerzas Armadas de la RDC como de la guerrilla del Congreso Nacional de la Defensa del Pueblo (CNDP) confirmaron hoy a medios locales que no han mantenido enfrentamientos desde ayer, cuando el líder de los rebeldes, general Laurent Nkunda, declaró un alto el fuego.

Sin embargo, según la emisora local Radio Okapi, patrocinada por la ONU, Bertrand Sisimwa, portavoz del CNDP, señaló que las fuerzas gubernamentales han aprovechado el alto el fuego para mejorar la situación de sus tropas, lo que, según dijo, puede provocar una escalada de la violencia.

El temor a nuevos combates ha llevado a que más de 65.000 personas de la región se concentren en los campos de desplazados cercanos a la ciudad de Goma, capital de Kivu Norte, según un comunicado remitido a Efe por Oxfam Internacional.

En la nota, Oxfam señala que sus trabajadores extranjeros, junto a los de otras organizaciones no gubernamentales (ONG), han recibido instrucciones de abandonar la zona, mientras el personal local ha sido enviado a sus casas.

La organización indica que repartió el martes combustible y equipos para depurar el agua, que permitan recibir suministro en los campos durante dos semanas, tiempo en el que esperan poder volver para reanudar su ayuda, al tiempo que hace un llamamiento a los beligerantes para que cesen las hostilidades y reanuden el diálogo.

Medios locales de la RDC han señalado también que miles de desplazados del este han empezado a llegar a las cercanas fronteras de Ruanda y Uganda, para buscar refugio en esos países, y que con ellos van grupos de trabajadores de organizaciones humanitarias.

En Goma, hoy se vive una jornada de calma, después de una noche de caos, en la que al menos nueve personas han muerto en actos de pillaje realizados por soldados incontrolados.

La ciudad sigue amenazada por los rebeldes del CNDP, que tras declarar ayer el alto el fuego se situaron a siete kilómetros de la población.

"Goma no ha sucumbido, está hoy bajo el control de las Fuerzas Armadas de la República Democrática de Congo (FARDC), apoyadas por la tropas de la Misión de la ONU para Congo (MONUC)", dijo hoy a Efe por teléfono Julien Paluku, gobernador de Kivu Norte.

Las declaraciones de Paluku coinciden con las de Gilbert Bujirir, un pastor protestante congoleño que dijo a Efe por teléfono que la pasada madrugada en Goma fue "de tiros y pillaje", aunque el día se ha presentado tranquilo.

"Aunque las tiendas y escuelas siguen cerradas y hay un gran número de desplazados, la situación de calma se mantiene y los militares de las FARDC y la MONUC patrullan las calles", precisó Bujirir.

El general Vainqueur Mayala, comandante de la región militar de Kivu, confirmó a Efe que sus tropas controlan Goma, aunque admitió que algunos soldados habían huido y que el pillaje de la noche anterior se había debido a militares "incontrolados".

Por su parte, según medios locales, el líder del CNDP, general Laurent Nkunda, que ayer declaró el alto el fuego en Goma, ha reiterado hoy que su intención no es atacar a la población, sino que su enfrentamiento es con el Gobierno.

Nkunda acusó al Gobierno del presidente Joseph Kabila de no defender a la minoría tutsi de la RDC y propugno unas negociaciones directas con las autoridades de Kinshasa sobre los beneficios de las riquezas mineras del país.

El jefe de operaciones militares de la MONUC, teniente coronel Samba Tall, por su parte, ha acusado al CNDP de utilizar los campamentos de desplazados como "bases para sus ataques" a las FARDC y las tropas de la ONU, en violación de los acuerdos humanitarios internacionales.

Tall aseguró que, pese a la actual situación, la MONUC "mantendrá su mandato" de proteger a la población civil y a las decenas de miles de desplazados que huyen de los combates en la región.

Invitación al dialogo a gobierno y rebeldes

El comisario europeo de Desarrollo y Ayuda Humanitaria, Louis Michel, invitó hoy al Gobierno y a los rebeldes del Congreso Nacional para la Defensa del Pueblo (CNDP) a volver a la mesa de las negociaciones para lograr una salida pacífica al conflicto de en la República Democrática de Congo (RDC).

Michel, que llegó el miércoles a Kinshasa para una breve visita, abogó en la capital de la RDC por "una solución diplomática" que calificó de "más eficiente que la opción militar".

Según el alto cargo europeo, la población civil es la que más sufre los efectos del conflicto que ocasiona, desde hace muchos años, el retraso del desarrollo económico y social de Kivu Norte, donde se han registrado fuertes combates desde la semana pasada.

"Es la responsabilidad de las partes en conflicto volver a la razón y a la mesa de las negociaciones", sostuvo Michel, convencido de que el recurso a las armas no es nada más que una forma de "retrasar una discusión ineluctable".

Michel abandonó hoy la capital de la RDC con destino a Kigali para reunirse con el presidente Paul Kagame, acusado por las autoridades de Kinshasa de respaldar la rebelión encabezada por Laurent Nkunda.

La Vanguardia, 30.10.08

http://www.lavanguardia.es/lv24h2007/20081030/53570165962.html

"I just needed 200 quid and the use of an editing room to get the film finished," says Nick Broomfield, who, almost 40 years after shooting that film, Who Cares, has become one of Britain's foremost documentary-makers. Help for Broomfield came after a meeting with the grandee of British documentary, the late Sir Arthur Elton, who directed the student to the doors of the British Film Institute. After a series of meetings, Broomfield had his money and his studio. A career was born.

Today's documentary film industry has changed almost beyond recognition since Broomfield cut his teeth. Some say we are enjoying a golden age of British documentary. If they are right (and others think the art form is in peril), then boom town is surely Sheffield. Next Wednesday, the South Yorkshire city will open its doors to the biggest wigs and brightest hopes in international documentary-making, providing a platform for the budding Broomfields of today to share their work with audiences and industry leaders.

"There was no such thing as Sheffield back when I was starting out," Broomfield recalls. Indeed, it wasn't until 1994 that the British documentary film industry got its own festival. Now in its 15th year, Sheffield Doc/Fest, as the five-day event is now called, has become the most important entry in the calendar of film-makers, producers, directors, buyers, commissioners and distributors, not only from Britain but all over the world.

For Nick Fraser, editor of the BBC's lauded documentary strand Storyville, Sheffield offers something other festivals don't. "The Edinburgh television festival has become fantastically corporate," he says. "The bulk of people who go there come from marketing departments of big independent film companies or the networks. They're not so interested in discussions about serious TV and factual film and what they're supposed to do. Sheffield has taken over that role."

Broomfield and Fraser are not alone in singing the praises of Doc/Fest. And if it is an industry barometer, this could indeed be called a golden age. Excitement surrounding British documentary-making probably peaked earlier this year when Man on Wire, a documentary about the quixotic performer Philippe Petit's 1974 wire-walk between the two towers of the World Trade Centre in New York, became a hit. Last week the film, which swept the awards when it premiered at this year's Sundance Film Festival, had taken a healthy $4.3m (£2.8m) worldwide. Critics on both sides of the Atlantic heaped praise on the film, which was directed by Cornish-born James Marsh and produced by another Briton, Simon Chinn.

"This is a really exciting time for British documentary," says Jess Search, head of the Channel 4 British Documentary Film Foundation and the BritDoc Festival, where Man on Wire won best film last summer. "We have no problem getting top US buyers coming to BritDoc because they know we've got the best film-makers in the world right now. The Brits are taking over."

Mark Cousins, the film-maker and co-author (with Touching the Void director Kevin Macdonald of Imagining Reality: Faber Book of the Documentary) says it is "no accident" that the industry is thriving. "Britain is a good training ground for this kind of work," he says. "There's something about the modesty of film-making ambition here; they think that if they keep close to the contours of the real world and stick to real stories, then they can do something splendid. I think that's what's happening here. Man on Wire or Touching the Void are stories from the real world."

Touching the Void, the heart-stopping account of two climbers' fateful (and near-fatal) Andean expedition, is the film to which Man on Wire is most often compared. Both were low-budget films with big-budget qualities that told uplifting tales of the deeds of extraordinary men, using a mix of reconstructed footage and interviews. Both were hugely successful, and are held up as the shiniest British nuggets of this supposed golden era.

But not everyone is convinced that those taking the pulse of the industry are listening in the right place. "I'm delighted by what Man on Wire did, but you have to realise that this is a niche of a niche," says Nick Fraser, who helped to fund the film (Storyville, the UK Film Council and the US studio Discovery Films split the bill). "It will make money and be shown in God knows how many countries, but I still say that documentary as a whole is up against it. It's a very tough environment."

And Fraser knows a tough environment when he sees one. Storyville, which he founded more than 10 years ago, started its latest run on BBC4 last week with the first of 25 films to be shown over the next year rather than the usual 40. A year ago, the BBC cut Fraser's budget from £2.2m to a little over £1.5m.

The move outraged viewers and the industry. Thousands signed a "Save Storyville" petition, and Macdonald called the cuts "nothing short of vandalism". The director Werner Herzog said it would be "a catastrophe".

The episode showed two things: first, that Storyville, whose more than 340 films (they include Hoop Dreams, The Fog of War and When the Levees Broke) have won five Oscars and two Emmys, has become one of the most respected names in the industry and a byword for cutting-edge documentary; and second, that if such a big hitter should come under threat, the art form is indeed facing a serious funding crisis.

"I think there was a moment, about four years ago, when I thought it would become less difficult. But it hasn't," says Fraser. "Getting hold of enough cash to do that enormous film about Polanski [Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired opened the new Storyville run last week] was very difficult. You can still do it and we're not at death's door; it's just that each year it gets slightly harder." And it's tougher for people without Fraser's name or experience. "Young people who are quite talented give up because they think they can't do it, and that's sad," Fraser says.

There's no doubt a recession will be bad news for documentary, but some say there's more to the funding shortfall than the credit crunch. Broomfield believes that much of the money is still there; it's just harder to get at. "In the earliest days, documentaries were much more part of our culture and were funded largely by the government or by public institutions – the classic Night Mail [1936] was made by the Post Office which, like most institutions, had its own film unit. Today, the UK Film Council doesn't seem to think documentary is its responsibility. It's happy to put money into Man on Wire, which is obviously a commercial film, but what about the small documentaries?"

Broomfield says institutions that used to give a leg-up to budding documentary-makers now look to television to foot the bill. But the TV companies are also making cuts as falling advertising revenues lead to dwindling budgets across the media. And, Broomfield says, they have other priorities: "TV is a big hungry beast, but reality shows, which are cheap, charlatan shows masquerading as documentary, have taken over. Film-makers coming out of film school are offered rubbish to do by TV that is way under their training."

This, Broomfield and Fraser say, is why Sheffield Doc/Fest has become so vital. "It helps people to get in touch with potential backers," Fraser says. "They have a thing called the MeetMarket where you can meet overseas funders. It's also about finding out what people are thinking and what they want to do. I get to meet a lot of people who desperately want to tell me about V C their films and even if I can't help, I can suggest someone else."

This new approach to funding has resulted in far more collaborations than there used to be. Cash-strapped networks club together and, if their money turns out to be well spent, they share the plaudits.

Lean times are leading to other innovations, including a return to the sponsored feature. Classics such as Karel Reisz's We Are the Lambeth Boys (1958) and Humphrey Jennings's Listen to Britain (1942) were sponsored (by Ford and the government respectively). Though not a documentary, Shane Meadows's recent feature Somers Town was sponsored by the Eurostar train service. A special session at Sheffield will discuss what role sponsorship might play in the future of British documentary.

Heather Croall, director of Sheffield Doc/Fest, is the person credited with breathing new life into the event. For her, it's about much more than money. "In general, film-makers go a few years between productions and the survival rate is quite low. You have to do whatever you can when you're not getting the chance to make the documentaries you want to make. Sheffield is the one time when they can walk away feeling re-energised, invigorated and inspired."

But inspiring young film-makers to keep going is one thing; engaging young viewers is quite another. Croall is tackling this challenge with missionary zeal. She's right to be concerned; according to a survey carried out for the BritDoc festival, 60 per cent of TV documentary viewers are aged 55 to 64. "Where are the audiences of the future?" Croall asks. "Today, you're competing with thousands of different things appealing to young people. We have to be innovative to capture them."

Innovation at Sheffield comes in the form of DigiDocs 360, the festival's attempt to match traditional documentary-makers with people from the digital world. "Sometimes they take some convincing, but when the industries come together you get innovative work," Croall says. She admits that nobody knows exactly where this marriage will take the industry, but cites one recent project run by the BBC's Natural History Unit. A group of schoolchildren were given hand-held units that showed images of the African savannah. As the children roamed their playground, they discovered new beasts and were quizzed about them. The only way to get better at the game was to go back into the classroom to learn more.

The DigiDocs scheme might be far removed from the kinds of films that define the genre, and Croall is keen to promote those as well. At every festival, a youth jury selected from applicants at road shows across the country give their verdict on a handful of films from the line-up. Before the festival the 12 jurors, aged 17 and 18, go to a summer workshop attended by some of the big names in the industry. "It's an amazing opportunity," Croall says.

Just what Croall and Sheffield can do to address the crisis in funding and the apparent disengagement of young people remains to be seen, but those who work in the industry do not doubt that it is vitally important to protect the genre. "We sometimes forget that the true purpose of documentary is to record the history of our time and country," says Broomfield, whose most recent film, Battle for Haditha, is among the 100 films showing in Sheffield. "These things might not always be the most obviously entertaining, but it is nonetheless incredibly important to record our national heritage."

Simon Usborne, The Independent, 31.10.08

http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/films/features/the-greatest-docushow-on-earth-980001.html

Ce récit est né d'une colère : Atiq Rahimi a été marqué par l'assassinat d'une poétesse afghane par son mari. Personne n'a rien trouvé à redire dans ce pays où l'on peut échanger sa fille contre une dette de jeu. Alors, l'auteur a décidé de donner la parole à une femme. Syngué sabour est une confession, les mots révèlent un emprisonnement, une révolte contenue qui peut s'exprimer enfin - mais seulement dans le silence des hommes. « Tu ne m'as jamais écoutée, tu ne m'as jamais entendue ! », lance-t-elle au moribond, avec lequel elle est mariée depuis dix ans, pour moins de trois de vie commune. Parce que c'est un soldat en guerre : « Le Héros ! Et, comme tous les héros, absent ! » Elle parle d'honneur, la belle affaire que l'honneur, pense-t-elle.

Huis clos

Pour elle, ce sentiment - masculin - rime avec malheur. Elle ose évoquer le sexe, qui n'est jamais lié au plaisir, plutôt un instrument de domination, de vengeance, ou l'expression d'une honte. On comprend ce que signifie Syngué sabour au milieu du récit : une pierre magique qui écoute et à qui l'on peut confier ses secrets et ses malheurs. Ici, le mari mourant jouant ce rôle. Si le contenu est fort, l'écriture, simple et poétique, ajoute à la densité. Tout cela donne au lecteur l'impression d'assister à un huis clos où l'on entend jusqu'aux respirations. Quelle pièce de théâtre ferait ce texte !

À quarante-sept ans, Atiq Rahimi, tient une place singu­lière. Né à Kaboul, en Afghanistan, il est obligé de fuir son pays et demande l'asile politique à la France. En 2000, son premier roman Terre et cendres (P.O.L) est un succès critique et public. Ce livre relate, à travers le regard d'un enfant qui devient sourd, l'Afghanistan envahi par l'Union soviétique. On y lit une phrase terrible : « Les morts sont plus heureux que les vivants. » Cinéaste, il l'adapte lui-même pour le grand écran. Le film est sélectionné à Cannes en 2004, et reçoit le prix du regard vers l'avenir. Ce livre, comme les deux suivants, était traduit du persan. Syngué sabour est écrit en français. C'est par cette langue que la femme s'exprime, qu'elle se libère petit à petit d'un carcan. Existe-t-il plus belle déclaration d'amour à la langue française ?

Syngué sabour, pierre de patience d'Atiq Rahimi P.O.L, 156 p., 15 €.

Mohammed Aïssaoui, Le Figaro, 30.10.08

http://www.lefigaro.fr/livres/2008/10/30/03005-20081030ARTFIG00348-les-confessions-d-une-afghane-.php