Razvan
“Omule : What did u use to hate and u now like?”
“Razvan : Wow. So this is gonna be that kind of interview. I have no idea, uhm. I think I’ll just have to go with vinaigrette. I think it just grows on u, right? Oh, and the track Exorciseur, by La Femme. And sleeping late. Drinking. Having a nose bleed. Feet. Falling on the asphalt. Leather jackets. Waking up early, tho I can’t be expected to, ever. Missing her. Uhm. Running shoes. Going to the dentist’s. Hearing myself talk, haha, get it? Being slapped senseless, I’d have to add. It takes an amazing gurl to smack some taste into ur face, I’ll give u that. À trois heures du matin.”
“Omule : Five things you can’t live without.”
“Razvan : Numer one. Nightmares. Not by choice, amirite. Am just stating the facts. Number two. Lying. Number three. Poetry. Number four. Hope. Hope that… that one day maybe the world… ahhahah-ahha-ha. No. Number five. This desire to possess her as a wound. Not even my words, thanks.”
“Omule : What superpower would you like to have and why?”
“Razvan : When I was a kid i thought, ‘Man, being invisible would mean like, seeing people undress at every given chance, knowing where my friends are most times and hearing what people speak of me when I’m not there’ but then instagram came and pretty much sorted that out for me. I don’t know, man, I’m kind of in a hole now so, yeah, I’d really be thankful for at the very least some regular power right now. The kind we think we have but we don’t, u knoe, like, rrreally being able to get thru to someone, for Christ’s sake, like, has anyone noticed how much of a private party an individual’s mind is? Like, u can talk to someone for hours, tell the truth and so on, and they’ll never trust u once their mind is set, u knoe. No, scratch that. I’d very much like to be left alone. I’d like some sleep. The power of decent sleep, there we have it. How about the power to say ‘no’, how about that? How about the power to say ‘Fuck it, I won’t have any of this anymore’ and just head on home for some youtubing myself to sleep. À trois heures du matin. I’d settle for that, thank u.”
“Omule : Best experiences you had onstage as an actor.”
“Razvan : Well, in all honesty, there were two. Don’t get me wrong, the stage was wicked fun most times. It’s mostly a game, and u kinda get lost in that and forget games have a way of framing u for failure. Other than that, audiences tick quite easily and are less pretentious than u’d ever imagine. But here they are.
First, there was this bit I was doing, really an intermezzo where all I had to do was walk up the stage alone and pretend play the accordion while most other stage partners were getting ready for act two. They let me improvise, because we were in too much of a rush to actually prep something and it was only supposed to last for about twenty seconds so I, I just walked up the stage and started dramatically playing the accordion when wham, it broke down right in my hands, can’t remember how, but next thing I know is I’m going full French where’s-my-croissant-faché mode and people start chuckling and I’m breaking down in laughter and the charade is in full view of everyone but they start clapping and I’m there yapping and ahhahahahing and breaking character and still getting a nice round of applause. We were, well, u knoe, together. That was nice.
Then there was one time I kinda silenced the audience with my bit. They believed me. I think they actually did. And there was a bit of suspense around where my character was headed. Curiosity. It mattered to them. Couldn’t pull it off ever again.
So I quit.”
“Omule : Who is on your list for the most awesome dinner party ever.”
“Razvan : U knoe how everyone replies to this question with ‘Jesus and Einstein’? Haha. I’d get Kanye West, u knoe. Kanye Fucking West and Salvador Dali, and just watch them battle over the ‘Most Arrogant Public Figure of the Fucking Century’ Prize. Then I’d get Brad Pitt too. He’s a good eater. Quiet. Elegant. Sensual. We’d very munch enjoy the show. Haha, get it? Get what i did there?”
“Omule : What do you think cats dream about?”
“Razvan : I was making a Schroedinger joke in the original draft. I was. No turning back, I guess. It’s just who I am now.”
“Omule : You have a tattoo shop. Who do you want to work with on a permanent deal. Who are your guests? ”
“Razvan : Well, I’d definitely work with the people whose work shaped mine. Bianicon, Ilyia Brezinski, Hanaro Shinko, Ylitenzo, Alex Badea, _367 or whatever his name is, Emily Malice, to name a few. Oh, and The Cursed Lover. That guy would be hillarious. Have u seen his instagram stories? Oh, man. Look them up. They’re almost demigods.
Guest spots, on the other hand, would be filled by rookies all over the world. Talented punks, but rookies, like, I mean absolute fucking rookies, the kind that tattoo so badly they give u fucking blood poisoning! I’d then market them as ‘THESE GUYS WILL GIVE U FUCKING BLOOD POISONING. THAT IS NO PARTY, FRIEND. THAT IS GOING TO THE DOCTOR’S 24 H AFTER COMING TO THE SHOP, LIKE, ARE U INSANE?!’, because it’s fun to watch people ignoring all the heads up u can possibly give them and still want to meet à trois heures du matin and treat u like a legit business just because u are a legit business. Why? But why? ”
“Omule : What is the biggest enemy to ur creative process?”
“Razvan : Sunlight. I can’t function unless I’m the only one awake.
Clients. I swear to Dog I can never make anything decent on request.
Thinking I got it. Worrying about failure is always a boot in the butt.
Gracie Hartzel.”
“Omule : All-time favorite sneakers. ”
“Razvan : I like how Chucks trash.”
“Omule : What are ur current projects? What is ur dream project and where?”
“Razvan : I’m currently having some fun around tattoos, illustration and raising this clothing brand I’ve started. What I’d actually like to do, tho, is just spoil these industries for everyone. I’d like to ruin something for a change. Seems quite fun.”
“Omule: If u were a movie director and you had to pick three actors slash actresses for a movie about your work, what would your pick be?”
“Razvan : It’s a very flattering question, but no, I’m not ur guy. I wouldn’t want to bore anyone with a lousy biopic. Gun to my head, tho, I’d actually just, like, rather to be the Studio, if possible. I’d hire a screenwriter, a director and a casting director that hate each other and just watch them try to not ruin their careers on this movie. I’d also put bombs in the final edit and seed untruths around origin stories. Don’t give me that power, man, I warned u.”
“Omule : All-time favorite albums?”
“Razvan : I’d have to say In the Hell of Patchinko, by Mano Negra. It’s so stupid and aggressive and naïve.
The Firstborn is Dead, by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. Bastard-Gospel-Smth-Blues at its finest.
Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?, by Of Montreal. Won’t even explain it.
Jesus Christ Superstar OST, cause it’s Andrew Lloyd Webber and I also had to cheat on this question. But, really, that Tim guy, the one that wrote the lyrics, did an amazing goddamn job. Really, look into it.
Oh, and also, there’s The Bedside Drama. A Petite Tragedy, by a young Of Montreal. A work of mild genius and naïveté. It’s about hooking up and breaking up. I’m now at track #10. Where are u, huh?”
“Omule : Finally, where does sartrowski come from. Why pick a different name to sign your work?”
“Razvan : Well, I don’t tell this to many people, but right before the flight scene in Fight Club, u knoe, the one where the Narrator meets Tyler Durden, we have Ed Norton dragging himself thru the check-ins, and just briefly standing behind some no-faced guy in the line, all dressed up in a very cheap suit, shirt hanging out of his pants, coat round his arm and a Starbucks cup in his hand. On the cup, his name is written in sharpie. Sartrow. I liked this no-faced loser. I thought ‘Boy, if I’m anyone in this movie, I’m that guy. Just briefly in the proximity of something worth mentioning. À trois heures du matin.
Thank u.”
“Omule : Thank you man.”
