Mephisto Waltzes, Weinberg, Sylvie’s Bolero

煢煢

半圓形的天頂被一層月華光澤的膜緊緻地拉扯住，像一只充滿著水的氣球，虛擬著生腥的焦慮與一種無所事事的、完完全全脫離精神性的美與憂鬱。那個午后，是薄如蟬翼且裹上銀粉的新生的卵，適於討論命理與禪。雲以敏捷的腳步滑行於透明且虛弱的藍，泡沫似的溫順與漠然。青春其實是極度缺乏生命力的。在旺盛與浮躁之中貪慕假象的匱乏，而後需索從不曾或缺的旺盛；在柔弱的本質中渴求堅強與信仰，之後因對於軟弱愚蠢的不自覺與惑於自我宣稱的虛偽堅強而尋覓所謂謙恭溫潤的中庸。青春是僅只存活於對純粹的堅持下、一種具備了美卻不易碎的浪費。如果死的優雅與精神性建構了藝術中闡釋生命的美學，則生不過是為襯托死的一種附屬的存在。但是生命卻是無法磨滅的，即使蒼白而無意義，卻無止盡地散發出猩紅的血的氣味。印度神濕婆在宇宙的輪迴當中毀滅自己所創造的鏡花水月，而後使之重生，不斷重複操縱著生與死的轉輪；祂是否也感受到生命中那種匱乏虛弱的美，以及死亡中屬於生之投影的愛與信念？藍所象徵的嫌惡與非難，以清澈且充滿靈性的美存在於自然界的蒼穹。隅隅獨行的生，幾人在腐臭中仍吟哦走了調的聖詩，又幾人能擺脫所有倫常的帷幕而誠摯地憎恨與厭惡？然而這一切的思索總似時間過度充裕的青春所編織的蛛網，純白得美麗亦膚淺得軟弱。當青春終於被擺脫後，生命開始進入下一段對死複雜的戀慕和禁忌，與對消逝的水光緬懷的遺憾。





奔馬

夢先於現實。
而純粹
似花，似血，似詩
，似枯腐前消逝的生。


Runaway Horses (Realistically Synaesthetic Purity)

Dreams, a priori, then reality.
And purity
Resembles a flower, resembles blood, resembles poetry,
Resembles life, a priori, disappearing before decay.

I am lost for words when confronted (and blessed) with such exquisite magnificence—how she tames, commands, and most importantly, marries the movements with and brings out the near-noumenal essence of Ravel’s mesmerising music... I am lost for words, except that I shall miss this feral diamond—beyond doubt, one of the greatest artists of our time—and I am grateful that I have had the privilege of seeing her on stage several times, in Europe and Asia, including a performance from her bittersweet farewell tour.

Watching Sylvie dance, watching her move—it is love and fire and electricity. Thank you Sylvie, for all that you have shared with us, for all that you have given us.

❤

cxii

That Love is all there is,
Is all we know of Love;
It is enough, the freight should be
Proportioned to the groove.

～Emily Dickinson (1830–86), from Part Five of The Single Hound: Poems of a Lifetime by Emily Dickinson, Boston, Little, Brown, and Company, 1914.

我的美麗與哀愁：some fragments on poetry and soul

“Often the object of a desire, when desire is transformed into hope, becomes more real than reality itself.” 

—Umberto Eco, The Book of Legendary Lands

A poet's soul is written down in words and expressed through the soul of his poetry. A sigh becomes the poetic essence of his soul, a recognition of this delicate and evanescent beauty that is universal, paradoxically transient and eternal at the same time. A breath, the pearlescent powder on a butterfly's wing, an evening breeze, colours of the world at dusk, a mirage on sand, a thought, a melody, a poem lasting for as long as it is sung silently, soundlessly. The efflorescence of fallen petals on a floating piano in slumber of emptiness, nonchalantly awaiting reveille from repose.

*
A poet's soul can always foresee the aching sadness that comes with/after beauty－something that "is," and not "caused"－the featherlight imprint of a butterfly's kiss upon one's heart that weighs heavier than the blood of a velvety scarlet rose...

*
This is the moon's phosphorescence... As exquisite and mysterious as the poetry of the moon, of the stirring illusion of crazing inside jade.


I shall quote from one of the poems dearest to my heart－“Invitation to the Harp” by Rafael Alberti (translated by Mark Strand):

Go even farther away than that.
Where the moon is torn between a poplar leaf and a passionate book,
where there are midnight frosts that candelabra conceal
and where death shivers in the unsteady sleep of the candles,
where a puppet in mourning dies over a tuberose,
where a voice from oblivion stirs the sleeping water of pianos.

Go always farther away, farther away.
Go where floors retain the echoes and shadows of footsteps,
where moths watch over the silence of neckties,
where a hundred years is a harp that has been forgotten.

film x-ray radiograph of roses, by bionerd (via flickr)

“Today in my heart
a vague trembling of stars
and all roses are
as white as my pain.”

―Federico García Lorca, from “Canción Otoñal” (Autumn Song)

Mughal gem set gold mounted jade mirror, Northern India, 18th century.

We hardly ever see the moon any more
                                                          so no wonder
   it’s so beautiful when we look up suddenly
and there it is gliding broken-faced over the bridges
brilliantly coursing, soft, and a cool wind fans
       your hair over your forehead and your memories
              of Red Grooms’ locomotive landscape
I want some bourbon/you want some oranges/I love the leather
                jacket Norman gave me
                                                and the corduroy coat David
     gave you, it is more mysterious than spring, the El Greco
heavens breaking open and then reassembling like lions
                                                 in a vast tragic veldt
     that is far from our small selves and our temporally united
passions in the cathedral of Januaries


     everything is too comprehensible
these are my delicate and caressing poems
I suppose there will be more of those others to come, as in the past
                                                  so many!
but for now the moon is revealing itself like a pearl
                                                  to my equally naked heart

～Avenu A, by Frank O’Hara

*
One's heart can be a riddle to oneself. Is it possible, could it be an intimation of not loving one's own soul would there be a soulmate out there with whom one was not in love?

*

“La noche habla suspiros de hojas.

En el silencio,

una sombra camina la huella de mi susurro.”

"Walk my sigh.

I knew there was none reflected in each step."

“It was the night sea

deep breathing silence.

The message of the conch you told in your look from sirens

where dream gorges of fire.

Ancestral Elixir

walking the stone beating.”

～Three poems: Untitled i & ii, and Deep Blue by Nube Alix

from the series Dialog, 1973, by Rudolf Bonvie (via)

Spices, Perfumes, Toxins!

"Spices, Perfumes, Toxins!" by Avner Dorman: I am desperately in need of the CD or DVD of this full-length concert...








The title Spices, Perfumes, Toxins! refers to three substances that are extremely appealing, yet filled with danger. Spices delight the palate, but can cause illness; perfumes seduce, but can also betray; toxins bring ecstasy, but are deadly. The concerto combines Middle-Eastern drums, orchestral percussion, and rock drums with orchestral forces – a unique sound both enticing and dangerous.

Spices, Perfumes, Toxins! is a result of years of collaboration with PercaDu. While we were still students at the Rubin Academy of Music in Tel-Aviv, Tomer and Adi asked me to write a piece for them. All three of us aimed at a piece that would be markedly Israeli and would reflect young Israeli culture. The process of composing the piece involved working closely with PercaDu on my ideas and testing them on the instruments long before the piece was done. In hindsight, I believe that the most important choice in making the piece sound Israeli was the use of four Darbukas and Tom-Toms in addition to the Marimbas. The piece, Udacrep Akubrad (PercaDu Darbuka spelled backwards) became one of PercaDu’s signature pieces and my most performed composition and is the basis for the first movement of the concerto.

Spices – the first movement draws its inspiration from the music of our region (extending its boundaries to the east as far as the Indian sub-continent). The piece is largely based on Middle-Eastern and Indian scales and uses the Indian system of Talas for rhythmic organization. I use these elements within a large-scale dramatic form and employ repetitive minimalism as it appears in the music traditions of the East and in the works of Western minimalists of the past forty years. Approximately at the movement’s golden section there is a cadenza that precurses the last movement of the concerto.

In Perfumes, the sonic world changes as one of the percussionists leaves the marimba and plays on a vibraphone. In Perfumes I use what I call multicultural polyphony. The opening theme of the movement (in the marimba) is reminiscent of Baroque arias. The three flutes that accompany the melody (regular, alto, and bass) echo the ornamental nature of the melody and transform it into lines characteristic of Middle-Eastern folk music. At the same time, the bass line borrows its sound from the world of Jazz. Each part of the texture contributes the “soul” of its genre, so to speak, in an effort to create a humanistic whole that express the diversity of our time and culture. As the movement progresses the soloists and orchestra embark on a colorful journey from the seductive to the dangerous.

In Toxins! the soloists use the entire variety of percussion instruments at their disposal. The movement is based on alternation between an aggressive rhythmic pattern (played on drumsets) and passionate outbursts in the orchestra. It swings like a pendulum between extreme joyous ecstasy and obsessive anxiety, pain, and delusions. As the movement develops, the music becomes increasingly fanatical until the final outburst of catharsis and death.

{*text via Avner Dorman website linked above}

Piazzolla's Saudades for Oblivion: emotional soundscapes of his poetry...

"I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another… then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes."

― James Joyce, closing line of Ulysses

“I loved her enough to forget myself, my self pitying despairs, and be content that something she thought happy was going to happen.”

― Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany's

"His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead."

― James Joyce, closing line of 'The Dead' from Dubliners


〝醉生夢死不過是她跟我開的一個玩笑。有些事情你越想忘記，就會記得越牢。當有些事情你無法得到時，你唯一能做的，就是不要忘記。＂ 
"Living a befuddled and intoxicated life is merely a joke she made with me. The harder you try to forget about some things, the harder you remember them. When there’s something you can never get, the only thing you can do is not to forget."

― from the film Ashes of Time directed by Wong Kar-Wai


＂你知不知道有一種鳥沒有腳的？他的一生只能在天上飛來飛去。一輩子只能落地一次，那就是他死的時候。＂
"Do you know there’s a kind of bird without legs? All its life it only flies in the sky. All its life only one time it lands on earth – that is the time it dies."

(...also Wong Kar-Wai, forgot which film it is from...)

La Mélancolie (detail), by Lucas Cranach the Elder, 1532
*image via Wikipedia

One of the beautiful Piazzolla songs used in Wong Kar-Wai's Happy Together, a film about longing, time, memories, love, loss, chance, and "the end of the world"...

Wong, in regards to the interpretation of the film said: "In this film, some audiences will say that the title seems to be very cynical, because it is about two persons living together, and at the end, they are just separate. But to me, happy together can apply to two persons or apply to a person and his past, and I think sometimes when a person is at peace with himself and his past, I think it is the beginning of a relationship which can be happy, and also he can be more open to more possibilities in the future with other people." (via)




Santiago Cimadevilla performing Astor Piazzolla's "Oblivion." With the Liepaja Symphony Orchestra (Latvia), conductor Imants Resnis. Live performance in Liepaja, December 2007.

The Art of Sun Zi in Vadim Repin's Sibelius

故其疾如風，其徐如林，侵掠如火，不動如山，難知如陰，動如雷震。

～《孫子兵法：軍爭篇》

軍旅行動時，快速如風；靜止時，肅穆嚴整如林木一般；進球敵人時，如燎原烈火，猛不可當；防守時，如山岳一樣，不可動搖；隱蔽時，如烏雲遮天，使敵人無從知曉；快速動作起來，如迅雷不及掩耳，使敵人無從退避。

Ring, 5th-4th century B.C.E., Eastern Zhou dynasty.
Glass, H: 4.0cm, China.
Freer & Sackler Gallery, Smithsonian's Museums of Asian Art (via)

A set of six graduated bells (yong zhong),
ca. 6th century B.C.E., Eastern Zhou dynasty
Bronze, H: 28.7cm, W: 13.0cm, D: 10.3cm, China
Freer & Sackler Gallery, Smithsonian's Museums of Asian Art (via)

Let your rapidity be that of the wind, 
your compactness that of the forest.
In raiding and plundering be like fire, 
in immovability like a mountain.
Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, 
and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.

~Sun Zi, The Art of War; Chapter vii: Military Combat
(English translations by Lionel Giles)

Ring, 5th-4th century B.C.E., Eastern Zhou dynasty.
Glass, H: 4.0cm, China.

Freer & Sackler Gallery, Smithsonian's Museums of Asian Art (via)

Pendant (long pei) in the form of a dragon,
5th century B.C.E., Eastern Zhou dynasty
Jade, H: 3.6 W: 5.4 D: 0.5 cm, China
Freer & Sackler Gallery, Smithsonian's Museums of Asian Art (via)

One of the most intoxicating qualities of Vadim Repin's interpretation is his freedom and effortlessness, together with the utmost passion (yet always in a wonderfully relaxed, zen manner), as if he was forever deeply in love with the music...

"Music is Russian violinist Vadim Repin’s mother tongue. He is a virtuoso of many voices, and his astonishing ability to draw a rich palette of sound from his instrument, together with his dazzling technique, has enthralled audiences around the globe. Fiery passion with impeccable technique, poetry and sensitivity are Repin’s trademarks." (via)


Vadim Repin plays Sibelius Violin Concerto in D Minor, conducted by Valery Gergiev, Orchestra of the Mariinsky Theatre, Saint Petersburg, Russia. (Prom 48, live at the Royal Albert Hall, 2006.)

Nathan Milstein and Beethoven's Kreutzer

Isolde's Liebestod

Tristan and Isolde (1912), by John Duncan

"As I have never in life felt the real bliss of love, I must erect a monument to the most beautiful of all my dreams, in which, from beginning to end, that love shall be thoroughly satiated. I have in my head 'Tristan and Isolde,' the simplest, but most full-blooded musical conception. With the black flag which floats at the end of it I shall cover myself to die."

~ Richard Wagner in a Letter to Liszt

Herbert von Karajan conducts the prelude of Tristan und Isolde.




Karajan rehearses a performance of Richard Wagner's Isoldes Liebestod ("The Love-Death of Isolde") with Jessye Norman, followed by the actual concert.




Bernstein conducts the finale of Tristan und Isolde.




(Isolde, aware of nothing round about her, fixes her gaze with mounting ecstasy upon Tristan's body.)

Isolde's Aria

How softly and gently
he smiles,
how sweetly
his eyes open -
can you see, my friends,
do you not see it?
How he glows
ever brighter,
raising himself high
amidst the stars?
Do you not see it?
How his heart
swells with courage,
gushing full and majestic
in his breast?
How in tender bliss
sweet breath
gently wafts
from his lips -
Friends! Look!
Do you not feel and see it?
Do I alone hear
this melody
so wondrously
and gently
sounding from within him,
in bliss lamenting,
all-expressing,
gently reconciling,
piercing me,
soaring aloft,
its sweet echoes
resounding about me?
Are they gentle
aerial waves
ringing out clearly,
surging around me?
Are they billows
of blissful fragrance?
As they seethe
and roar about me,
shall I breathe,
shall I give ear?
Shall I drink of them,
plunge beneath them?
Breathe my life away
in sweet scents?
In the heaving swell,
in the resounding echoes,
in the universal stream
of the world-breath -
to drown,
to founder -
unconscious -
utmost rapture!

(Isolde sinks gently, as if transfigured, in Brangaene's arms, on to Tristan's body. Those standing around are awed and deeply moved. Mark blesses the bodies. - The curtain falls slowly.)

*Translations of libretto via.


Jessye Norman performing "Mild und leise wie er lächelt" (Isoldes Liebestod), with Wiener Philharmoniker, conducted by Herbert von Karajan. (C) 2005 DOR Films




Isolde's Liebestod (The Love-Death of Isolde)




Pas de deux from the ballet "Tristan and Isolde," staged by choreographer Krzysztof Pastor to the music of Richard Wagner, performed by Svetlana Zakharova and Andrei Merkuriev.

I had the pleasure of seeing this performance in person on the "Homage to Nureyev" gala evening at the London Coliseum on 21/March/2010. One online review reads, "Zakharova was fluid, willowy, with great extensions and… well, she just reminded me of a naiad in a painting by Waterhouse." I cannot agree more. I feel that Svetlana, as one of the best ballerinas of our time, is still getting better and better. In the gala performance of Tristan and Isolde, she was like water, like prana, like 'chi,' she was one with her dance and her dance was an extension of her.




All about Wagner's Tristan und Isolde:

Bilingual side-by-side German English Libretto (also in Italian)
Wagner Operas. A comprehensive website featuring photographs of productions, recordings, librettos, and sound files.
Richard Wagner - Tristan und Isolde. A gallery of historic postcards with motifs from Richard Wagner's operas.
Recordings of Tristan and Isolde rated. Recordings reviewed by Geoffrey Riggs.
Discography of Tristan und Isolde. List of recordings and videos from 1901–2004 by Jonathan Brown.
Wagner's Tristan and Isolde BBC / Metropolitan Opera synopsis
Tristan und Isolde resource site Comprehensive website containing source material and musical motives
Tristan und Isolde Performance Watch the opera free of charge
Seattle Opera Performance Seattle Opera link
Tristan und Isolde on Wikipedia

Tristan and Yseult (1887), by Jean Delville

Viennese Romance

I cannot stop reminiscing about Vienna and all of its beauty after watching the 2010 New Year's Concert video... For me, Vienna is like the jewel on an exquisite crown - perfectly elegant, and as the Chinese adage goes, "paints the eyes of the dragon."

I have combined these gorgeous short clips from Vienna's New Year Concerts with some lovely paintings which I find to be emanating the same fragrance and aura.





Franz Xavier Winterhalter, L'Impératrice Eugénie et ses dames de compagnies (The Empress Eugénie Surrounded by Her Ladies in Waiting), 1855, Château de Compiègne. Taking its inspiration from 18th-century bucolic scenes, this monumental composition sets the sovereign and her entourage against the backdrop of a shady clearing in a forest. However, the composition is very artificial and formal. The empress, slightly to the left of center, is encircled by and dominates the group. {via Wikipedia}

Franz Xavier Winterhalter, Elisabeth of Bavaria, Empress of Austria, with Diamond Stars on Her Hair, 1865, Hofburg, Vienna.

Gustav Klimt, Portrait of Mada Primavesi, 1912.





(*All paintings below by Edgar Degas)

Der Abschied (we miss you...)

The sun departs behind the mountain
In all the valleys, evening descends
With its cooling shadows
O look! Like a silver boat
The moon floats on the blue sky-lake above
I feel the fine wind wafting behind the dark spruce
The brook sings loudly through the darkness
The flowers stand out palely in the twilight
The earth breathes, full of peace and sleep
And all yearning wishes to dream now
Weary men go home
To learn in sleep forgotten happiness and youth
The birds crouch silently in their branches
The world is asleep

It blows coolly in the shadows of my spruce
I stand here and wait for my friend
I wait to bid him a last farewell
I yearn, my friend, at your side
To enjoy the beauty of this evening
Where do you tarry? You leave me alone for so long!
I wander up and down with my lute
On paths swelling with soft grass
O beauty! O eternal love!
Eternal, love-intoxicated world!

夕陽度西嶺  群壑倏已暝  松月生涼夜  風泉滿清聽
僬人歸欲監  煙鳥棲初定  之子期宿來  孤琴候蘿徑

At Parting

The drink of parting
He asked him where he would go, and also why it must be
He spoke, his voice was choked
My friend, on this earth, fortune has not been kind to me!
Where do I go? I will go wander in the mountains
I seek peace for my lonely heart

下馬飲君酒  問君何所之  君言不得意  歸臥南山陲  但去莫復問  候雲無盡時

The Song of the Earth, choreographed by Kenneth MacMillan and set to Gustav Mahler's music, is amongst my most beloved ballets. The Farewell (Der Abschied), final movement of the music Das Lied von der Erde, is based on two Chinese poems written in the Tang Dynasty:
1. “At the Mountain-lodge of the Buddhist Priest Ye Waiting in Vain for My Friend Ding” by Meng Haoran
2. “At Parting” by Wang Wei
The poems were first translated into French, and were edited by Hans Bethge (in German) thereafter. The German version was then adapted by Gustav Mahler when he composed the final movement of Das Lied von der Erde in 1908.

Former Royal Ballet Prima Ballerina Darcey Bussell chose this piece as her swansong, her farewell to a dazzling career in the ballet world (she was Principal of the Royal Ballet since age 18). As Judith Mackrell wrote, "It was such an eloquent statement of the fact that dance's power lies so uniquely in the physical present, its beauties impossible to preserve because they rest on what is most vulnerable and perishable - the human body. Bussell knew that her own body was on the cusp of its powers. And she decided to leave before its decline was evident to anyone else."
(*From - Darcey: We miss you already)

17th May 1966: Anthony Dowell and Marcia Haydee in the ballet, 'Song of the Earth'. Music by Gustave Mahler, choreography by Kenneth MacMillan. (Photo by Erich Auerbach/Getty Images)

Rehearsal footage of Darcey's final performance (see also here - Song of the Earth: Introduction and Rehearsals)


My favourite scene from The Sleeping Beauty...

And, one of the Balanchine pieces very dear to my heart...

A Million Kisses to My Skin

David and I went out this evening for a very lovely dinner date at the wonderful French restaurant/bistro Le Boudin Blanc. We had beautiful food including a divine chestnut crème gateau with spices and dark chocolate sorbet (my obsession with Indian chai these days has given me a penchant for everything exotically fragranced). In a way the ambiance in this little gem of a restaurant neatly tucked away on a cobble-stoned alley felt even a teeny bit more French than being in Paris (ah, the blasphemy!)...

On our drive back home Bach's Piano Concerto No. 1 in D Minor was playing on the radio. I instantly turned up the volume as I've loved this gorgeous piece ever since I first heard it, and even more so after seeing David Dawson's ballet "A Million Kisses to My Skin" which he created for Dutch National Ballet in 2000. I went to the performance when Dutch National Ballet toured Sadler's Wells in London. The precision and athleticism does not wane its artistic and emotional quality in anyway, as far as I am concerned. Instead, I find a beautiful parallell between the dancer's movements and what attracts me so much to Bach's music (as well as numerous contemporary choreographers/musicians/composers). An emotional complexity and profundity achieved not through the least bit of sentimentalism, but via a channel that is controlled, balanced, subtle/implicit, at times intellectually challenging, or even 'digital' and rigid. Yet this communicative channel delivers something that is infinitely timeless, glowing intrinsically with qualities that are transcendent. How Bach's music moves me.

David mentioned one of his favourite books dealing with a similar subject, which he thinks I will love - Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid, a Pulitzer Prize-winning book described as "a metaphorical fugue on minds and machines in the spirit of Lewis Carroll." It is to be included in my ever growing book list, and I am not a fast reader at all!

As Random Dance Artistic Director and Royal Ballet Resident Choreographer Wayne McGregor eloquently puts it, “I think there’s something wonderful about these dancers, how they’re able to take dislocating, disorienting physical language and imbue it with emotional resonance. I’m a great believer, as was Merce Cunningham, in that the human body can never be without meaning, that the body can never be abstract. The body is inherently literal.”

*Since embedding is disabled, please click here to watch the first movement of David Dawson's A Million Kisses to My Skin, performed by Dresden Semperoper Ballett in 2008, starring Natalia Sologub, Jiri Bubenicek, Olga Melnikova, Maximilian Genow, Elena Vostrotina, Claudio Cangialosi, Julia Carnicer, Giselle Doepker and Arika Togawa. Also visit the gallery for some excellent photographs of this ballet.




Glenn Gould plays Bach Piano Concerto No. 1 in D minor, BWV 1052

Poetry (iv)

...I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.

~T. S. Eliot, The Waste Land, 1922.

*

On the Nature of Daylight, from the album "The Blue Notebooks," composed by Max Richter.



Also watch David Dawson's ballet set to Richter's hauntingly beautiful score.

藍

Between all the different shades of blue, there is form. And then there is the absence of form ― a freedom from resolution. There is music.

清 刺繡 峰頭十丈 Embroidery painting from Qing Dynasty, China.

Girl with a Pearl Earring, 1665, by Johannes Vermeer (1632-1675).

Vase of Flowers with Blue Ground, 1956, by Sanyu 常玉。

“... if you then consider none but those whose discriminating vision has been refined through contact with literature and art, he was convinced that the eye of that individual who dreams of ideal beauty, who craves illusions, who seeks some mystery in his women, is as a rule attracted to blue and its derivatives...” 

― Joris-Karl Huysmans, À rebours, 1884

+

Pierre Fournier plays Zoltán Kodály Sonata for Solo Cello, Opus 8. Recorded in November, 1960.

北宋 官窯青瓷 Guan ware, Northern Song Dynasty, China.

元 鈞窯 天藍紫斑如意枕 Jun ware, Yuan Dynasty, China.

The Painter to the Moon, 1917, by Marc Chagall (1887-1985).

+

Arnold Schoenberg: String Quartet No. 3, Op. 30, Movement I (1927). Recorded in 1937 by the Kolisch Quartet under Schoenberg's supervision.




Arnold Schoenberg: String Quartet No. 4, Op. 37 (1936). Recorded in 1969 by LaSalle Quartet.

Turquoise Wine Jar, Ming Dynasty, China.

Althea, 1895, by John White Alexander (1856-1915).

+

Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov: Scheherazade, Symphonic Suite, Opus 35. The Sea and Sinbad's Ship/ Conductor: André Previn; Orchestra: Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra.

北宋汝窯青瓷橢圓洗/ Ru ware, Northern Song Dynasty, China.

Blue Waterlilies, 1919, by Claude Monet

“The word itself has another color. It’s not a word with any resonance, although the e was once pronounced. There is only the bump now between b and l, the relief at the end, the whew. It hasn’t the sly turn which crimson takes halfway through, yellow’s deceptive jelly, or the rolled-down sound in brown. It hasn’t violet’s rapid sexual shudder or like a rough road the irregularity of ultramarine, the low puddle in mauve like a pancake covered in cream, the disapproving purse to pink, the assertive brevity of red, the whine of green.”

― William H. Gass, On Being Blue: A Philosophical Inquiry, 2007.

+

Hilary Hahn plays Schoenberg Violin Concerto, Op. 36 (1936). Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Esa-Pekka Salonen.




Leonard Pennario plays Sergei Prokofiev Vision Fugitives, Opus 22.
Complete score: 1. Lentamente 1:10, 2. Andante 1:20, 3. Allegretto 0:49, 4. Animato 0:40, 5. Molto giocoso 0:27, 6. Con eleganza 0:37, 7. (Arpa) Pittoresco 1:30, 8. Comodo 1:10, 9. Allegretto tranquillo 0:56, 10. Ridicolosamente 0:40, 11. Con vivacita 0:59.

Edvard Munch, Kiss by the Window, 1892, oil on canvas, 73 x 92cm, The National Museum of Art, Architecture and Design, Oslo.

Pablo Picasso, La soupe (The soup), 1902-1903, oil on canvas, 38.5 x 46cm, Art Gallery of Ontario, Toronto, Canada.

Claude Monet, Water Lilies, 1915, oil on canvas, 151.4 x 201cm, Neue Pinakothek, Munich, Germany.

Dance of Mandala

As though moving in a dream, she sank to a chair. The room was losing shape; it was dark and getting darker and there was nothing to be done about it; she could not lift her hand to light a lamp.

Suddenly, closing her eyes, she felt an upward surge, like a diver emerging from some deeper, greener depth. In times of terror or immense distress, there are moments when the mind waits, as though for a revelation, while a skein of calm is woven over thought; it is like a sleep, or a supernatural trance; and during this lull one is aware of a force of quiet reasoning: well, what if she had never really known a girl named Miriam? that she had been foolishly frightened on the street? In the end, like everything else, it was of no importance. For the only thing she had lost to Miriam was her identity, but now she knew she had found again the person who lived in this room, who cooked her own meals, who owned a canary, who was someone she could trust and believe in: Mrs. H. T. Miller.

(From Miriam, by Truman Capote, 1945)

+++

I was fortunate enough to see one of Damien Hirst's "mandalas" in London (from memory it was either at Stephanie Hoppen Gallery or Gagosian Gallery). It was a special experience to view the painting in person, up close—various pastel hues in beautiful harmony; yet slightly darkened, as if the colours had caught a cold, as if bloodletting had been performed on the artwork. It takes up an entire wall—quieting and commanding simultaneously.


*Be sure to click on all the images for enlargement of stunning details. You can read more about Damien Hirst here.

Damien Hirst, Psalm Print: Exaudi, Domine, 2009. 740 mm x 715 mm paper size. Silkscreen print with glaze.

Damien Hirst, Tranquility, from the Butterflies series, 2008. Butterflies and household gloss on canvas, 231.6 x 323 x 13 cm.

Damien Hirst, Ascended.

A butterfly piece by Damien Hirst, part of the Superstition installation series at the Gagosian Gallery, 17-19 Davies Street, London. Photo via flickr.

Damien Hirst, Cathedral Print, St Peter's, 2007. 1200 x 1200 mm. Silkscreen print with glazes and pearlised colours.

Damien Hirst, Cathedral Print, St Paul's, 2007. 1200 x 1200 mm. Silkscreen print with glazes and pearlised colours.

Damien Hirst, Cathedral Print, Orvieto, 2007. 1200 x 1200 mm. Silkscreen print with glazes and pearlised colours.

Damien Hirst, Cathedral Print, Palais des Papes, 2007. 1200 x 1200 mm. Silkscreen print with glazes and pearlised colours.

Damien Hirst, Butterfly Wallpaper, 2004.

Damien Hirst, Psalm Print: Exaudi, Domine (diamond dust), 2009. 740 mm x 715 mm paper size. Silkscreen print with glaze.

Butterflies, by Damien Hirst. Gloss Household Paint and Collage on Canvas, 9 x 12", 2007.

Damien Hirst, Soul, 2006. Silk screen on 410gsm Somerset Tub Sized paper, print and paper size 420mm x 297mm.

*

Sarabande, Giga and Badinerie by Arcangelo Corelli, one of my favourite Baroque composers.




Arcangelo Corelli's Sonata VII in D minor: Preludio (Vivace), Corrente (Allegro), Sarabanda (Largo) & Giga (Allegro). Performed by: Andrew Manze (historical violin), Richard Egarr (historical harpsichord); label: Harmonia Mundi. Corelli's Opus 5 is a set of 12 sonatas for violin and cello or harpsichord, although only violin and harpsichord settings were agreed upon by performers as written in their liner notes. Published on the first of January, 1700, the set of sonatas quickly became famous and are the only violin sonatas from Corelli.