O delima Anselma Kifera

Among the artists whose work I know, Kiefer is perhaps the most talented, ambitious and literary of them all, and maybe that is why his universe appeals to me so strongly. – Orhan Pamuk

Ne sećam se kada i gde sam prvi put videla slike (reprodukcije) Anselma Kifera ali su mi se odmah dopala monumentalna dela, skulpture, knjige, fotografije. U eri „dematerijalizacije“, u eri „digitalnog“, u eri „koncepta“, Anselm Kifer je pravi primer romantičarskog umetnika. On ne odustaje od slike, od reči, od mita, od preispitivanja, on ne odustaje od materije i metafizike. Njegove slike (smemo li napisati platna?) teške su nekoliko stotina kilograma. Na njima je puno boje, puno slame, stolica, metalnih predmeta. Kifer stvara materijalnost, sliku, konkretno, čulno, istovremeno bivajući brutalan prema materijalnosti.

Na putovanjima sam se dva puta srela sa Kiferovim delima. Prvi put u Veneciji, u „Pegi Gugenhajm“ muzeju gde sam videla platno na kojoj je arhetipska slika, veoma važna za moju ličnu mitologiju, život, pisanje, a to je opustošena njiva. Nad njom se nadvijala kosa plave Margarete, slama, i stihovi ispisani rukom, prelepim rukopisom samog slikara, koji su iz pesme „Fuga smrti“ Paula Celana.

Tvoja kosa od zlata Margreto
Tvoja kosa od pepela Sulamko

Drugi put je to bilo u Briselu kad sam u „Muzeju lepih umetnosti“ kupila tri knjige među kojima je jedna bila posvećena radu Anselma Kifera. Razmišljala sam kako je njegovo delo blisko književnosti, i ne samo po upotrebi jezičkih elemenata, već u celini. Ono nije narativno ali poziva čitaoca da pejsaž dopuni prošlim i budućim. Delo je uvek tu, u sadašnjem, u zamrznutom, u trenutku koji je istovremeno i večnost. Večna sadašnjost.

Naišla sam na nekoliko zanimljivih tekstova i video zapisa o Kiferu. Jedan je tekst Kristofa Ransmajera, drugi je Orhana Pamuka, savremenog turskog pisca, jednog od Kiferovih umetničkih pandana. Njegov citat sledi u nastavku. Takođe, pored dokumentarnog filma „Remembering the Future“, naišla sam i na tri videa nastala povodom Kiferove izložbe u bečkom muzeju „Albertina“. Svi ovi tekstovi i filmovi mogu biti, uz moje upravo predočeno sećanje, početni impuls i uvid u dalje istraživanje ovog umetnika.

I found myself thinking once again that perhaps the reason why I loved these paintings so much was the artist’s ability to demonstrate the kinship of words and images, legends and landscapes. All these words, letters, trees, mountains, frail flowers and forgotten roads were part of a single text, and shared a common texture. All I wanted was to be able to read these paintings and the forceful brushstrokes that had formed them.

Izvor citata: The Guardian

Podmornice na njivi: Anselm Kifer i Velimir Hlebnjikov

I think in pictures. Poems help me with this. They are like buoys in the sea. I swim to them, from one to the other. In between, without them, I am lost. They are the handholds where something masses together in the infinite expanse. – Anselm Kiefer

Navršilo se sto godina od Oktobarske revolucije (Rusija, 1917). Tim povodom je u Ermitražu održana izložba Anselma Kifera koju je posvetio ruskom futurističkom pesniku Velimiru Hlebnjikovu. Naredni citati predočavaju inicijalnu ideju slikara koji je, baš kao i pesnik kojim je bio inspirisan, zaokupljen istorijom i njenim stalnim, tragičnim ponavljanjem.

In 2016, inspired by a visit to St Petersburg, Anselm Kiefer produced a new exhibition project for the Hermitage. In a three-part space specially fitted out for the exhibition in the Nicholas Hall, Kiefer presents a series of new works that are important for him and are dedicated to the Russian Futurist poet and experimental wordsmith Velimir Khlebnikov (1885–1922).

One of the central ideas for Khlebnikov – an endless cycle of decisive military clashes that take place on land and water once every 317 years – provided Kiefer with a basis for reflections on the theme of war and peace, the transient and finite character of all human undertakings, the mercilessness of fate. At the same time, the exhibition „Anselm Kiefer, for Velimir Khlebnikov“ is a picturesque ode to the beauty of rusting ships that once inspired terror but have now been abandoned by their creators at the very end of the earth.

Khlebnikov’s initial motivation was a highly personal response to Russian defeat in the Russo-Japanese War: „I wanted to discover the reason for all those deaths.“ Kiefer is actually denying Khlebnikov. Kiefer’s ironic use of Khlebnikov’s predictive models reflects his conviction that history can never be programmed or given a fixed form.

Velimir Hlebnjikov je smatrao da se određeni istrijski događaji ponavljaju svakih 317 godina. Kifer, međutim, smatra da se istorijski događaji ponavljaju, ali da se njihov ritam ne može lako utvrditi i da njihova cikličnost nije izvesna, bar ne na isti način i predvidiva.

Ko god je čitao poeziju Velimira Hlebnjikova neće prepoznati istu na Kiferovim platnima. Ono što je posebno interesantno jesu podmornice koje, poput nasukanih kitova, napuštene, oronule, kao stran predmet na telu zemlje, leže u sred njiva i pustih polja. I ne samo podmornice, koje je na jednoj izložbi u Londonu umetnik izdvojeno postavio, već i knjige. Teške, olovne knjige.

Podmornice su moćno oružje, strah tokom rata svih onih što pored mora iščekuju mir. Mene su uvek asocirale na putovanja, ne na rat, što je posledica čitanja Žila Verna. Podmornice na Kiferovim slikama simbol su starog, iskorišćenog, besmislenog u neku ruku. Čemu sada ta ogromna, nekada uništilačka, skalamerija služi? Jesu li podmornice istorija? Šta je istorija? Kakvi predmeti, kakvi ljudski izumi utiču na naše živote?

Bitno je dovoditi rad jednog umetnika u vezu sa radom njegovih prethodnika i njegovih savremenika, nezavisno od umetnosti kojima su se oni drugi, sa kojima ga poredimo, bavili. U našem slučaju i Orhan Pamuk i Velimir Hlebnjikov bili su umetnici pisane reči. Međutim, to ne treba da nas zavara. Kiferovo delo komunicira sa mnogo drugih umetnika, ali čini se da je češće u dijalogu sa pesnicima i filozofima, pre nego sa drugim slikarima.

Paralele su prisutne. Pamukovo oduševljenje literarnim u Kiferovom delu korespondira sa Kiferovim citatom na početku, kada slikar kaže da njemu poezija pomaže da razmišlja u slikama, one su za njega kao bove u vodi koje mu pomažu da se u beskraju orjentiše. Najzad, kao završnicu ove objave, izrazila bih jednu svoju zapitanost koja je u vezi sa slikarevom inspiracijom: zašto Hlebnjikov a ne Mandeljštam?

Slike: The State Hermitage Museum (1, 2)

Preporuka: Panathinaeos

Image result for anselm kiefer velimir chlebnikovImage result for anselm kiefer velimir chlebnikov

Poezija posvećena grčkoj boginji Persefoni

Kore from the Acropolis, 6th century BCE, marble. New Acropolis Museum, Athens.

EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY: PRAYER TO PERSEPHONE

Be to her, Persephone,
All the things I might not be;
Take her head upon your knee.
She that was so proud and wild,
Flippant, arrogant and free,
She that had no need of me,
Is a little lonely child
Lost in Hell, – Persephone,
Take her head upon your knee;
Say to her, „My dear, my dear,
It is not so dreadful here.“

 

CECILIA WOLOCH: HADES

Where we go when he closes my eyes
and under what country:
some blue darkness, farther than hell;
a landscape of absence and root and stone.
There are no bodies here,
we dream shapeless dreams –
a constant, cloudless storm.

Mother, I’ll never wake up from him,
I have already traveled too far.
My mouth is the color of his mouth
and his arms are no longer his arms;
they’re mute as smoke, as my first white dress,
and the spear of his name, once ferocious,
dissolves on my tongue
like sugar, like birdsong, I whisper it:
Hades.

 

NIKITA GILL: CONVERSATIONS WITH PERSEPHONE

I asked Persephone,

„How could you grow to love him?
He took you from flowers to a kingdom
where not a single living thing can grow.“

Persephone smiled,

„My darling, every flower on your earth withers.
What Hades gave me was a crown
made for the immortal flowers in my bones.“

 

LOUISE GLÜCK: A MYTH OF DEVOTION

When Hades decided he loved this girl
he built for her a duplicate of earth,
everything the same, down to the meadow,
but with a bed added.

Everything the same, including sunlight,
because it would be hard on a young girl
to go so quickly from bright light to utter darkness

Gradually, he thought, he’d introduce the night,
first as the shadows of fluttering leaves.
Then moon, then stars. Then no moon, no stars.
Let Persephone get used to it slowly.
In the end, he thought, she’d find it comforting.

A replica of earth
except there was love here.
Doesn’t everyone want love?

He waited many years,
building a world, watching
Persephone in the meadow.
Persephone, a smeller, a taster.
If you have one appetite, he thought,
you have them all.

Doesn’t everyone want to feel in the night
the beloved body, compass, polestar,
to hear the quiet breathing that says
I am alive, that means also
you are alive, because you hear me,
you are here with me. And when one turns,
the other turns.

That’s what he felt, the lord of darkness,
looking at the world he had
constructed for Persephone. It never crossed his mind
that there’d be no more smelling here,
certainly no more eating.

Guilt? Terror? The fear of love?
These things he couldn’t imagine;
no lover ever imagines them.

He dreams, he wonders what to call this place.
First he thinks: The New Hell. Then: The Garden.
In the end, he decides to name it
Persephone’s Girlhood.

A soft light rising above the level meadow,
behind the bed. He takes her in his arms.
He wants to say I love you, nothing can hurt you

but he thinks
this is a lie, so he says in the end
you’re dead, nothing can hurt you
which seems to him
a more promising beginning, more true.

 

JO WALTON: HADES AND PERSEPHONE

You bring the light clasped round you, and although
I knew you’d bring it, knew it as I waited,
Knew as you’d come that you’d come cloaked in light
I had forgotten what light meant, and so
This longed for moment, so anticipated,
I stand still, dazzled by my own delight.

I see you, and you see me, and we smile
And your smile says you are as pleased as me
With everything and nothing still to say
All that we’ve saved and thought through all this time
Boils down to affirmation now as we
Stand here enlightened in my realm of grey.

Cerberus wags his solitary tail,
And though the dust of Hell lies round our feet
Your flowers are already sprouting through.
“You came,” “I said I would,” “You didn’t fail,”
“And you’re still here,” “Of course. We said we’d meet.”
“Yes,” “Yes!” “You’re really here! “And so are you!”

We don’t say yet that you will have to go
And Hell return inevitably black
Your flowers fade when parted from your tread
Though this is something we both surely know,
As certain as you come, you must go back,
And I remain alone among the dead.

They say I snatched you from the world above
Bound you with pomegranates, cast a spell
Bribed you with architecture. It’s not so.
Friendship is complicated, life is, love,
Your work the growing world, my task is Hell
You come back always, always have to go.

But here and now, this moment, we can smile,
Speak and be heard, this moment we can share
And laugh, and help each other to be great,
And talk aloud together, all worthwhile,
Our work, our worlds, and all we really care,
Each word shines golden, each thought worth the wait.

And Hell’s poor souls whirl round us as they glide
Off up to Lethe to begin again,
On to new lives, new dawns beyond Hell’s night.
We walk among your flowers, side by side,
Such joys we share are worth a little pain.
You come back. And you always bring the light.

 

RITA DOVE: PERSEPHONE, FALLING

One narcissus among the ordinary beautiful
flowers, one unlike all the others! She pulled,
stooped to pull harder—
when, sprung out of the earth
on his glittering terrible
carriage, he claimed his due.
It is finished. No one heard her.
No one! She had strayed from the herd.

(Remember: go straight to school.
This is important, stop fooling around!
Don’t answer to strangers. Stick
with your playmates. Keep your eyes down.)
This is how easily the pit
opens. This is how one foot sinks into the ground.

Izvor poezije: Pinterest, Poetry Foundation

Slika: Mermerna sklptura Kore (devojke), 6. vek pre nove ere, Atina.

A . A . A u antologiji „Somehow“

Novosadski dizajnerski studio Peter Gregson osmislio je koncept za časopis (antologiju) koji bi sadržao eseje, poeziju, studije, odlomke. Švajcarski proizvođač nameštaja Woak podržao je ovu ideju.

Na sajmu nameštaja u Kelnu, koji je u toku, kupci i posetioci izlagačkog prostora ovog proizvođača moći će da dobiju knjigu, u kojoj sam i ja participirala jednim tekstom. Antologija je nazvana Somehow i sadrži dvanaest priloga koji su na engleskom jeziku.

Na preporuku prijateljice napisala sam esej o holandskoj mrtvoj prirodi, slikarskom fenomenu 17. veka. Ponosna sam, zahvalna i srećna! Već osećam energiju svog nepoznatog, dalekog čitaoca. Esej ću uskoro objaviti i na blogu, na srpskom jeziku, u okviru serije tekstova pod nazivom Barok nedeljom.

Isprva sam za potrebe antologije napisala dva eseja, od kojih je jedan prihvaćen. Drugi je, takođe, o holandskoj umetnosti 17. veka, s tim što je u fokusu tog rada prikaz egzotičnih ptica na platnima nekoliko holandskih i flamanskih slikara toga doba. Taj rad ću objaviti, isto tako, u okviru serije objava pod nazivom Barok nedeljom

Zamislila sam četri eseja kao četri različita platna u tamnoj sobi. Bio je to moj mali, privatni muzej. U formi tetraptiha bih holandsku umetnost zlatnog doba povezala sa istorijskim, ekonomskim i građanskim tekovinama koje su je uslovile i oblikovale. Posmatrač bi u tu sobu ušao i, krenuvši s leva na desno, kretao bi se ovako: prvo krilo tetraptiha su Rembrantovi ženski portreti, preciznije haljine Rembrantovih portretisanih. Drugo krilo su egzotične ptice u izmaštanim vrtovima koje su na ogromnim platnima bile deo enterijera prve moderne evropske građanske klase. Treće krilo je ovo o kome je reč: mrtva priroda, mnoštvo hrane i predmeta na stolovima u tamnim sobama. Četvrto krilo, još uvek „nenaslikano“, biće esej o kabinetima kurioziteta, o sobama i škrinjama mnogobrojnih ličnosti koje nalikuju Šekspirovom Prosperu. To su sobe putnika, kolekcionara i ezoterika, sakupljača, fetišista, zaljubljenika u materijalno, u predmete, ali ne u onakve kakve viđamo na platnima mrtve prirode, već bizarne, neobične, „kuriozitetne“. Sobe pune prepariranih životinja, korala, lobanja, predmeta iz prirode, ali odvojenih iz svog prirodnog staništa i stavljenih u potpuno novi kontekst.

Esej o haljinama Rembrantovih portretisanih je objavljen na blogu A . A . A. Sledeći na redu za objavljivanje, u okviru pomenute serije Barok nedeljom, jeste esej o egzotičnim pticama. Zatim ću objaviti ovaj esej o mrtvoj prirodi (na srpskom jeziku, samo za ovu priliku je objavljen na engleskom) i, najzad, esej o kabinetima kurioziteta koji ću, u međuvremenu, napisati. On će se poklopiti sa mojim doktorskim istraživanjima koja se tiču nekih Šekspirovih drama, naročito „Bure“.

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Henri Rid o Marselu Prustu (Henry Reed: „Proust’s Way“)

Naišla sam na ovaj skenirani isečak iz novina na nekom internet mestu kome, sada, ne umem da uđem u trag. Sve što ima veze sa Marselom Prustom privlači mi pažnju iako, shodno neminovnosti svakodnevnih obaveza, „kutija sa kuriozitetima“ (desktop folder) mora da sačeka na konačnu afirmaciju koja se ogleda, prvo u čitanju, a potom i u objavljivanju na ovom mestu (fotografija na kojoj je tekst stajala je na mom desktopu više od deset meseci). Nisam mogla da u celosti čitam to što je napisano jer mi čitanje na ekranu ne odgovara pa sam, stoga, odlučila da prekucam tekst ne bih li spoznala da li je vredan objave. Ispostavilo se da jeste.

Henri Rid bio je engleski pesnik, radio voditelj i prevodilac. Ovde, on piše povodom objavljivanja dva dela o Prustu. Prvo je prevod Prustovih različitih spisa koje je preveo na engleski Žerar Hopkins. Drugo se odnosi na kritičku studiju „The Two Worlds of Marcel Proust“ koju je napisao Harold Marč (oba dela pomenuta su u podnaslovu). Ovaj prikaz pomalo se čini nedovršenim (možda postoji nastavak?), ali je svakako koristan kao znak recepcije Prusta u Engleskoj.

Rid već na početku pominje Šekspira. Njegova komparativna preporuka nije slučajna. Naslov prvog prevoda Prustovog dela na engleski bio je, zapravo, Šekspirov stih Remembrance of Things Past (Sonet 30):

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past

Kad u veću misli utišane
Probude dane što odoše hujem
(prevod Živojina Simića i Stevana Raičkovića)

Kad zovem spomen dragih prošlih dana
Pliju me misli i slatke i nijeme
(prevod Danka Angjelinovića)

Prvi prevodilac Prustovog dela na engleski jezik bio je Scott Moncrieff. Tek 1992. godine, sedamdeset godina posle prvog izdanja, naslov biva zamenjen prikladnijim, vernijim orginalu, sa In Search of Lost Time. Prvobitni naslov maši suštinu izvornog naziva dela i navodi na potpuno promašene interpretacije. Englezi ne mogu bez samoisticanja, stvarajući od Prusta Šekspira i namećući jednu Prokrustovu postelju daljim interpretacijama. I danas se mogu pronaći tekstovi u kojima se ovaj prevod slavi kao jedan od najboljih na svetu (!), zanemarujući na taj način mnoge druge jezike i prevodioce, ističući po ko zna koji put anglocentričnost i slepilo jedne nacije za druge nacije i kulture. Neverovatno.

Naravno, ovde nije reč o tome da je sam prevod loš, iako naslov, uprkos svojoj lepoti i poetičnosti, nije odgovarajući, već je reč o isticanju bahatosti koja ne nailazi na odobravanje. Iako to nema veze sa Ridovim tekstom, ipak se mora pomenuti kada je o njemu reč, jer Rid osim tog prevoda, kao i autori knjiga koje on komentariše, nemaju drugog izvora pred sobom. Ridov tekst sam namerno ostavila na engleskom, ne bavim se prevođenjem, iako savršeno razumem napisano, a nadam se da će isti slučaj biti i sa čitaocima ovog bloga. Pored Šekspira, Rid pominje i više puta Raskina, ali je ta komparacija u potpunosti opravdana jer je Raskin u mnogo čemu bio Prustov duhovni učitelj od čijih uticaja francuski pisac nije zazirao i čiji je uticaj ne mali broj puta i sam isticao.

O pomenutom engleskom prevodu možete čitati na sajtu Public Domain Review, u tekstu „Lost in Translation: Proust and Scott Moncrieff„.

.

Proust, like Shakespeare, should be read as early as possible, and should be read entire. For the rest of life each of them provides a coprehensive and enduring world wich you can re-enter, briefly or at lenght, at whatever point you choose. After each new encounter you emerged dazed, happy and iluminted, with something learnt afresh or for the first time. A complete re-reading will make a new man of you.

In Mr. Gerard Hopkin’s selection of pieces from Pastiches et mélanges and elsewhere we have the charming experience of meeting Proust  – as we cannot, alas, meet Shakespeare – outside the turmoil of creation, chatting, confiding, preparing. Many of the pieces in this book, it is true, are prised by Proust himself out of the Temps Perdu and got up for breakfast reading in the Figaro; these are perhaps preferable in their true context.

The book also contains the magnificent Filial Sentiments of a Parricide, whose final paragraph Proust never bettered for tragic insight and power. Yet as a whole it is the essays centered on Ruskin, and the informal pieces about Baudelaire and Flaubert, that move one most: and it is still the write we know that move us. The same character, the same voice, that come through the translation of Scott-Moncrieff come through Mr. Hopkin’s no less sensitive versions.

In one of his Ruskin essays Proust points out how Ruskin’s enthusiasm may be held to excuse certain of his more dubious judgments. Enthusiasm combined with kinship of both the spirit and the nerves, produces his own brilliant pages on Baudelaire; and these in their turn remind us on how much Proust himself awaits a critic similarly equipped. „I want love, love, love, fire, enthusiasm, life!“, cried Leopardi to his brother; and it might be an artist appealing to his critic.

Mr. March’s painstaking study of Proust seems prompted by none of these things. It is dutiful, opaque, dull … and indispensable. For where else shall we find collected all the information he gives us? His opening chapter on the intelectual background and analogues might well have been reduced to a parenthesis elsewhere; the more so, since this is all Freud gets later. (Mr. March has apparently not been told that love and time are Freud’s themes no less than Proust’s).

The real value of his book lies in the biographical chapters, where he gave us an account of some of Proust’s „originals“. Here the facts, alone, are enough to grip and harrow us. Especially absorbing are the pages on the curious development of the text of Temps Perdu: it is a staggering thought that the whole of what Proust regarded as the virtually complete MS of the work was ready for publication by 1913; and that Albertine – that eternal image of the Hardyesque well-beloved – was not there at all!

Lav Tolstoj i tenis

When Tolstoy was in his forties, he thought tennis was a faddish luxury, a pastime of the new rich, something imported, inauthentic.

Gerald Marzorati napisao je tekst, nedavno objavljen na sajtu magazina The New Yorker, o Tolstojevoj odluci da počne da igra tenis. Evo odlomka o tom događaju:

What brought Tolstoy to tennis so late in his life? Or, better, what brought him around to the game? When he was in his forties, he thought tennis was a faddish luxury, a pastime of the new rich, something imported, inauthentic – a child’s game enthused about by well-to-do grownups who refused to grow up. We know this from Part 6, Chapter 22, of Anna Karenina, which he was writing in the eighteen-seventies, when the modern game of ‘lawn tennis’ was developed and patented by Major Walter Clapton Wingfield, a British Army officer.

Autor u tekstu pominje i scenu koja se pojavljuje u romanu Ana Karenjina, a koju je kasnije i Nabokov komentarisao. Upitanju je igra tenisa koju posmatra Doli, gošća Ane i Vronskog.

After a formal dinner party that tires and deflates Dolly – who in this chapter, a reader presumes, embodies Tolstoy’s own point of view – the guests stroll to the tennis court and begin to play. Before long, it is mostly the men who are playing: running, laughing, shouting, perspiring in their frock coats. Nabokov, who loved tennis and loved Tolstoy, and who was perhaps the greatest reader of Anna Karenina, wrote in a note that I found buried in the manuscript of his Lectures on Russian Literature: ‘Now comes a nice detail: the men with the ladies’ permission took their coats off and played in their shirt sleeves.’ Watching them, Dolly senses her mood darkening. The ‘unnaturalness of grown-ups when they play at a children’s game by themselves, without children’, has made her unhappy. And the tennis gets her to thinking that the players she’s watching are players off the court, too – that Vronsky and his friends are new types, modern bourgeois strivers who are in all aspects of their lives ‘actors’, and for whom all settings are essentially ‘theatre’. You’d think, from all this, that Tolstoy despised tennis and all he thought it represented.

Izvor: The New Yorker

Fotografija: Lav Tolstoj igra tenis, kraj 19. veka.

Lav Tolstoj i vožnja bicikla

Na internet sajtu magazina The New York Times nedavno je objavljena lista umetnika koji su u kasnom dobu započeli sa određenom aktivnošću. Među njima našao se i ruski pisac Lav Tolstoj koji je sa šezdeset i sedam godina naučio da vozi bicikl. Vožnja bicikla je, pored jahanja i tenisa, bila deo njegove jutarnje rutine. Evo odlomka o tome:

The author of War and Peace took his first bicycling lesson at age 67, only a month after the death of his 7-year-old son, Vanichka. He was still grieving, and the Moscow Society of Velocipede-Lovers provided him a free bike and instruction along the garden paths on his estate. He became a devotee, taking rides after his morning chores. Count Leo Tolstoy . . . now rides the wheel, declared Scientific American in 1896, much to the astonishment of the peasants on his estate. A close friend noted: ‘Tolstoy has learned to ride a bicycle. Is this not inconsistent with Christian ideals?

Fotografija: Lav Tolstoj, 1895.

Intervju: Silvija Plat i Ted Hjuz (BBC, 1961)

Intervju naslovljen „Two of a Kind: Poets in Partnership“, snimljen je 18. januara 1961. godine, a emitovan 31. januara iste godine. BBC novinar bio je Owen Leeming. U nastavku slede dva citirana odgovora. Prvi odgovor dala je Silvija Plat na pitanje o vezi svog deteinjstva i potrebe za stvaranjem:

I think I was happy up to the age of about nine — very carefree — and I believed in magic, which influenced me a great bit. And then, at nine, I was rather disillusioned — I stopped believing in elves and Santa Claus and all these little beneficent powers — and became more realistic and depressed, I think, and then, gradually, became a bit more adjusted about the age of sixteen or seventeen. But I certainly didn’t have a happy adolescence — and, perhaps, that’s partly why I turned specially to writing — I wrote diaries, stories, and so forth. I was quite introverted during those early years.

Drugo pitanje koje ovde izdvajam odnosilo se na Teda Hjuza. Engleski pesnik dao je odgovor na pitanje kako vidi vezu između njega i Silvije Plat, između dva snažna stvaralačka bića. Da li je konfliktna ili je, naprotiv, usklađena.

We’re very alike — we like the same things, live at the same tempo, have the same sort of rhythm in almost every way. But obviously this is a very fortunate covering for temperaments that are extremely different. But they lead secret lives, you see — they content themselves in an imaginative world, so they never really come into open conflict.

Izvor: Brain Pickings

Silvija Plat na blogu A . A . A   |   Ted Hjuz na blogu A . A . A

Umberto Eko o fenomenu spiskova

U nastavku sledi deo intervjua koji je italijanski pisac i književni znalac Umberto Eko dao za nemački list Spiegel Online povodom otvaranja izložbe u Luvru koja se bavila fenomenom spiskova u zapadnoj umetnosti, a čiji je Eko bio kustos.

The list is the origin of culture. It’s part of the history of art and literature. What does culture want? To make infinity comprehensible. It also wants to create order — not always, but often. And how, as a human being, does one face infinity? How does one attempt to grasp the incomprehensible? Through lists, through catalogs, through collections in museums and through encyclopedias and dictionaries. There is an allure to enumerating how many women Don Giovanni slept with: It was 2,063, at least according to Mozart’s librettist, Lorenzo da Ponte. We also have completely practical lists — the shopping list, the will, the menu — that are also cultural achievements in their own right.

The list doesn’t destroy culture; it creates it. Wherever you look in cultural history, you will find lists. In fact, there is a dizzying array: lists of saints, armies and medicinal plants, or of treasures and book titles. Think of the nature collections of the 16th century. My novels, by the way, are full of lists.

The Baroque era was an age of lists. Suddenly, all the scholastic definitions that had been made in the previous era were no longer valid. People tried to see the world from a different perspective. Galileo described new details about the moon. And, in art, established definitions were literally destroyed, and the range of subjects was tremendously expanded. For instance, I see the paintings of the Dutch Baroque as lists: the still lifes with all those fruits and the images of opulent cabinets of curiosities. Lists can be anarchistic.

My interests change constantly, and so does my library. By the way, if you constantly change your interests, your library will constantly be saying something different about you. Besides, even without a catalogue, I’m forced to remember my books. I have a hallway for literature that’s 70 meters long. I walk through it several times a day, and I feel good when I do. Culture isn’t knowing when Napoleon died. Culture means knowing how I can find out in two minutes. Of course, nowadays I can find this kind of information on the Internet in no time. But, as I said, you never know with the Internet.

Bob Dilen i Suzi Rotolo

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Sa dvadeset dve godine Bob Dilen objavio je svoj drugi album „The Freewheelin’ “ na čijoj je naslovnoj strani fotografija njega i njegove tadašnje devojke Suzi Rotolo. U nekoliko navrata Dilen se osvrtao na njihovu vezu, poetski izražavajući svoje utiske:

I couldn’t take my eyes off her… The air was suddenly filled with banana leaves. We started talking and my head started to spin. Cupid’s arrow had whistled past my ears before, but this time it hit me in the heart and the weight of it dragged me overboard.

Meeting her was like stepping into the tales of 1,001 Arabian nights. She had a smile that could light up a street full of people and was extremely lively, had a particular type of voluptuousness—a Rodin sculpture come to life. She reminded me of a libertine heroine. She was just my type.

Toni Morison i razotkrivanje američkog mita sreće

U nastavku sledi odlomak iz intervjua koji je američka spisateljica Toni Morison dala za magazin Interview. Odlomak – jedno od mnogobrojnih pitanja na koja je spisateljica odgovorila – odnosi se na razotkrivanje iluzije i pogrešne percepcije o američkoj kulturi pedesetih i šezdesetih godina 20. veka sa zaključkom da „Every nation teaches its children to love the nation. I understand that. But that doesn’t mean you can gloss over facts.“

BOLLEN: We have a tendency to romanticize the stability of the ’50s in the same way that we romanticize the upheaval of the ’60s. You’ve spoken out about how a certain consumer-friendly, drug-induced version of the ’60s has obscured the real social changes that occurred during that decade. Was Home your attempt to rewrite the ’50s away from the favored version?

MORRISON: Somebody was hiding something—and by somebody, I mean the narrative of the country, which was so aggressively happy. Postwar, everybody was making money, and the comedies were wonderful . . . And I kept thinking, That kind of insistence, there’s something fake about it. So I began to think about what it was like for me, my perception at that time, and then I began to realize that I didn’t know as much as I thought. The more one looks, the more that is revealed that’s not so complimentary. I guess every nation does it, but there’s an effort to clean up everything. It’s like a human life— “I want to think well of myself!” But that’s only possible when you recognize failings and the injuries that you’ve either caused or that have been caused to you. Then you can think well of yourself because you survived them, confronted them, dealt with them, whatever. But you can’t just leap into self-esteem. Every nation teaches its children to love the nation. I understand that. But that doesn’t mean you can gloss over facts. I was an editor in the school department of [publisher] L.W. Singer Co. for a year before I came to Random House. I edited 10th- to 12th-grade literature books. For Texas books, we were forbidden to say “Civil War” in the text. We had to write “war between the States.” And of course we had to take out all sorts of words that Whitman wrote. There were caveats, constantly, when you sold text-books to Texas. And they’re still doing it, just with religion. I understand they’ve taken the word slavery out and replaced it with something to do with trade . . .

Izvor: Interview Magazine

Slika: Edward Hopper, „Carolina Morning“, 1955.

Tilda Svinton o romanu „Orlando“ Virdžinije Vulf

Engleska glumica Tilda Svinton u filmu „Orlando“ rediteljke Sali Poter, snimanom po motivima istoimenog romana Virdžinije Vulf, odigrala je nekoliko uloga po kojima će biti upamćena kao jedna od ikona sedme umetnosti. U tekstu objavljenom na internet sajtu magazina Telegraph ona evocira svoje impresije o ovoj knjizi:

A tourist guide to human experience, the best of wise companions. At least, it was my first: a message in a bottle from an imaginary friend.

I reread it now, 35 years later, and I am struck by its capacity to change like a magic mirror. Where I had originally seen it as a book about writing, about becoming a writer, I now see it as a book about reading, about taking one’s place in the chain. Where I once assumed it was a book about eternal youth, I now see it as a book about growing up, about learning to live.

For five years I was privileged to work alongside Sally Potter’s development of her feature-film adaptation of this book. I played the part of Orlando. Twenty years later, Orlando is still the name by which I am best known in Russia, to which I readily answer on streets throughout the world. In my attic is a box containing two of the costumes Orlando wore in the film. One day, I know my son will find them and try them on. One day – soon, I expect – my poetry-writing daughter, his twin, will pick up Woolf’s book and try it on for size.

Džon Maksvel Kuci o Geteovom romanu „Jadi mladog Vertera“

U tekstu „Storm Over Young Goethe“  južnoafričkog nobelovca Džona Maksvela Kucija objavljenom na sajtu NY Review of Books piše:

Two energies go into the making of Werther: the confessional, which gives the book its tragic emotional force, and the political. Passionate and idealistic, Werther is representative of the best of a new generation of Germans sensitive to the stirrings of history, impatient to see the renewal of a torpid social order. An unhappy love affair may precipitate his suicide, but the deeper cause is the failure of German society to offer young people like him anything but what Goethe would later call “dull, spiritless citizen life.

Izvor: NY Review of Books

Slika: Kleine Charlotte

Alhemija i knjiga „Čarobnjak iz Oza“

wizard-of-oz-original1

Nedavno sam na facebook stranici The Ritman Library pročitala sledeće zanimljivosti u vezi sa klasikom književnosti za decu koji je napisao Frenk Baum:

This American classic with its famous characters Dorothy Gale from Kansas, Tin Man, Scarecrow and Cowardly Lio is known all over the world and was released more than a century ago. Its author, Frank Baum, was a member of the Theosophical Society in Chicago and consciously or unconsciously integrated theosophical teachings in ‘The Wonderful Wizard of Oz’.

In the American Theosophist no. 74 of 1986, ‘The Wizard of Oz’ is regarded as a Theosophical allegory, pervaded by theosophical ideas from beginning to end. Baum himself states that the inspiration for writing the book came to him out of the blue: ‘I think that sometimes the Great Author has a message to get across and He has to use the instrument at hand. I happened to be that medium, and I believe the magic key was given me to open the doors to sympathy and understanding, joy, peace and happiness’.

Dorothy’s Quest can be understood as an allegorical tale of the Soul’s path to illumination. The story takes off with a tornado or cyclone spiralling upward and lifting her from her Kansas farm to the enchanted Oz. The ‘Yellow Brick Road’ of Oz also starts as an outwardly expanding spiral. In occult symbolism, this spiral represents the evolving ‘Self’, the Soul ascending from matter into the spirit world. Many more theosophical and occult symbolism is present in the story: from Dorothy’s Quest to the ‘Emerald City’, her silver (chord) shoes to her encounters with Scarecrow, Tin Man and Cowardly Lion who are respectively searching for a brain, a heart and courage.

Paul Kle: Putovanje u Egipat

Paul Klee, Evening in Egypt, 1929

 Ono što čovek može da zamisli obično prevazilazi ono što on vidi, budući da mašta po svom obimu prevazilazi stvarnost, osim kada je u pitanju Kairo, gde čovek vidi ono što ne može da zamisli.

Ibn Haldun, arapski istoričar, 14. vek

Na sajtu Kunstsammlung.org nedavno se pojavio tekst koji predstavlja izložbu dva nemačka slikara različitih umetničkih provenijencija – Maksa Zlegvorta i Paula Klea. Zajedničko obojici umetnika je putovanje u Egipat kao deo obrazovnog procesa koji će za obojicu biti višestruko koristan.

Posetioci će posredstvom izlaganja dela oba umetnika moći da uoče generacijsku razliku, kao i istorijske okolnosti koje su uslovile, između ostalih, formalne razlike njihovih slika. Zlegvort putuje 1914, u doba kada je on još uvek engleska kolonija a Nemačka imperijalna sila. Kle putuje između 1928. i 1929. tokom potpuno drugačije umetničke i društvene klime obe zemlje. Evo jednog odlomka sa sajta:

This exhibition juxtaposes the works of a pair of artists who, although coexisting during the same period, exemplify highly divergent pictorial traditions and intellectual worlds. Not only did Slevogt and Klee experience Egypt differently, they processed their artistic perceptions in markedly contrasting ways. Slevogt journeyed to Egypt in spring of 1914, when the country was still under British colonial rule. His journey (which also took place during the German Imperial era), stood in the tradition of the Grand Tour typically undertaken by painters of the Orient. Fifteen years later, during the turn from 1928 to 1929, Paul Klee followed the same route from Alexandria via Cairo and Luxor to Aswan. Now under altered political and social conditions, his journey took him to a country that had achieved independence in 1922. With the foundation of the Weimar Republic at the end of World War I, Germany too experienced a political reorientation.

Both artists had been familiar with the culture of ancient Egypt through exhibitions held in Germany after major excavations such as those at Tell el-Amarna, where the celebrated Bust of Nefertiti was discovered in 1912. Slevogt’s image of Egypt was also stimulated by fantastical tales such as The Thousand and One Nights, which captivated him already as a child, and served as a continuous source of inspiration for paintings and illustrations. As early as the period around 1900, Klee had incorporated forms into his works that are reminiscent of the pyramids and hieroglyphs. A trip to Tunisia in 1914 further fueled his interest in North Africa and the Orient. The impressions Slevogt received in Egypt sparked a hitherto unprecedented coloristic and compositional virtuosity. Not the historic ruins, the pyramids and temple remains, stood at the center of Slevogt’s interest, but instead the people, everyday life at the marketplaces, along with the endless desert landscape. Unlike Slevogt, Klee traveled to Egypt alone and with minimal luggage. Klee produced almost no work in Africa, instead reflecting upon and transforming the visual stimuli he received there in a series of new works only after returning to his studio.  *

Slika: Paul Kle: Paul Klee, „Veče u Egiptu“, 1929.

Dokumentarni film o Liv Ulman i Ingmaru Bergmanu

 

Filming for me is an illusion planned in detail, the reflection of a reality which the longer I live seems to me more and more illusory. – Ingmar Bergman

Trejler za dokumentarni film Liv&Ingmar koji jerežirao Dheeraj Akolkar.

Ingmar Bergman na blogu A . A . A | Preporuka: Barcarole

O romanu „Orkanski visovi“

 

Profesor Džon Boven, o kome je bilo reči u tekstu O tri engleska gotik romana ovoga puta govori o elementima specifičnog prostora koji se uklapa u gotski senzibilitet romana Orkanski visovi. O romanu sam pisala i ja, iz ugla teme kojom se već dugo bavim, a koja se tiče različitih oblika koje junaci dati kao putnici u književnosti 18. i 19. veka zadobijaju. Tim povodom pisala sam o Hitklifu, junaku romana Emili Bronte, u tekstu pod nazivom Putnik Hitklif. Na sajtu The British Library piše:

Professor John Bowen considers Emily Brontë’s combination of fantasy and reality in Wuthering Heights and the way in which fairy tale and Gothic elements ‘haunt the edges’ of the novel. Filmed at the Brontë Parsonage, Haworth. Explore more films, together with thousands of Victorian and Romantic literary treasures, at the British Library’s Discovering Literature website.

O tri engleska gotik romana

Ova objava donosi dva znanja: jedno je profesora Džona Bovena o ključnim motivima gotik žanra, izloženog kroz priloženi video, kratak uvod o fenomenu književnosti nastale u 18. veku; drugo je profesora Džona Mulana koje je izloženo u pisanom obliku. Odlomci priloženi u nastavku objave, kao i fotografije prvih izdanja knjiga, preuzete su sa sajta British Library i nalaze se u okviru članka The Origins of the Gothic koji je napisao profesor Džon Mulan.

Odlomci na engleskom jeziku deo su pomenutog teksta i ukratko opisuju neke od osnovnih odlika prvih gotskih romana koji su se pojavili u Engleskoj sredinom 18. veka. U pitanju su dela „Zamak Otranto“ Horasa Volpola, „Misterije Udolfa“ En Redklif i „Monah“ Metju Luisa. U Mulanovom tekstu pominju se i drugi romani koji pripadaju tradiciji gotskog žanra poput dela „Northangerska opatija Džejn Ostin, „Frankenštajn“ Meri Šeli, „Orkanski visovi“ Emili Bronte, kao i kasnije napisanim knjigama – „Velika očekivanja“ Čarlsa Dikensa, „Drakula“ Brema Stokera ili „Doktor Džekil i mister Hajd“ R. L. Stivensona.

Generally regarded as the first Gothic novel, The Castle of Otranto was first published in 1764. Its author is Horace Walpole (1717-97), but it purports to be a translation of a work printed in Naples in 1529 and newly discovered in the library of ‘an ancient Catholic family in the north of England’. The novel relates the history of Manfred, the prince of Otranto, who is keen to secure the castle for his descendants in the face of a mysterious curse. At the beginning of the work Manfred’s son, Conrad, is crushed to death by an enormous helmet on the morning of his wedding to the beautiful princess Isabella. Faced with the extinction of his line, Manfred vows to divorce his wife and marry the terrified Isabella himself. The novel had a major effect on the reading public throughout Europe, with the poet Thomas Gray commenting to Walpole that it made ‘some of us cry a little, and all in general afraid to go to bed o’nights.’

The Mysteries of Udolpho is a Gothic novel by Ann Radcliffe, published in 1794. It was one of the most popular novels of the late 18th and early 19th centuries. It was then and continues to be widely regarded as a key text in the development of the Gothic genre.

The Mysteries of Udolpho is set in France and Italy in the late 16th century. The main character is Emily St. Aubert, a beautiful and virtuous young woman. When her father dies, the orphaned Emily goes to live with her aunt. Her aunt’s husband, an Italian nobleman called Montoni, tries to force Emily to marry his friend. Montoni is a typical Gothic villain. He is violent and cruel to his wife and Emily, and locks them in his castle. Eventually Emily escapes, and the novel ends happily with Emily’s marriage to the man she loves.

Like other Gothic novels, The Mysteries of Udolphocontains ruined castles, beautiful countryside, a virtuous heroine and a villain. There are a number of strange occurrences in the novel which seem to be supernatural, but which are revealed to have rational explanations. This too is a common theme in Gothic novels, although other examples of the genre (such as Horace Walpole’s The Castle of Otranto and Matthew Lewis’s The Monk) do feature the genuinely supernatural.

Matthew Lewis’s novel The Monk (1796) marked a turning point in the history of Gothic literature. With its emphasis firmly on the horrific and the shocking, the book moved Gothic away from the gentle terrors of earlier authors such as Horace Walpole and, instead, confronted readers with an onslaught of horror in the form of spectral bleeding nuns, mob violence, murder, sorcery and incest. Unsurprisingly the book met with outrage and condemnation from critics. Equally unsurprisingly it was hugely popular with the public.

With its twin themes of erotic obsession and the corrupting influence of power, The Monk deals with important issues and contains moments of impressive psychological insight. At heart, however, it remains a morality tale about one man’s fall from grace through greed, pride and lust.

Izvor: British Library

Gotski roman na blogu A . A . A

Preporuka: Tragom Lovkrafta

O Blejkovoj pesmi „Jerusalim“

Ovako je izgledala kuća engleskog pesnika Vilijama Blejka i njegove supruge u vreme njegovog rada na pesmi „Jerusalim“ koja je deo Blejkove poeme Milton. Legenda kaže da je u bašti, u časovima predaha, Blejk čitao svojoj supruzi stihove iz Miltonovog epa Izgubljeni raj. Naravno, oboje su poput biblijskih grešnika Adama i Eve bili potpuno nagi. Posle skoro 90 godina Blejkova kuća je opet data na prodaju. Tome je i posvećen članak u magazinu Guardian:

In his lifetime Blake lived in nine houses. Only two survive. The other house is in London, and people are always welcome there to talk about Blake, but it’s not a museum and has a very small capacity. The idea is to link these two remaining houses where Blake lived, said Heath. Literary houses can have a detached connection to their author, but for Blake place was so important that it seems extraordinary that in Britain we don’t celebrate these two extraordinary houses.

Blake wrote to his friend John Flaxman on his arrival in the cottage that “Felpham is a sweet place for Study because it is more Spiritual than London … Heaven opens here on all sides her golden Gates”, also singing its praises in poetry: “Away to sweet Felpham, for Heaven is there / The ladder of Angels descends through the air.

William Blake – Jerusalem

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England’s mountains green:
And was the holy Lamb of God,
On England’s pleasant pastures seen!

And did the Countenance Divine,
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here,
Among these dark Satanic Mills?

Bring me my Bow of burning gold;
Bring me my Arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of fire!

I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:
Till we have built Jerusalem,
In England’s green and pleasant Land *

Klavirski virtuoz Frederik Šopen

Listova muzika opčinjava duh a Šopenova govori srcu. Ako inspiracija kod jednog ne ide uvek u korak sa čudnom lakoćom izražavanja, kod drugog ona nikad ne izneverava. Rođen u Želazova-Volja, kod Varšave, 1810. godine, Frederik je po ocu poreklom Francuz. Virtuoz od svoje osme godine, on preduzima, kao List turneje koncerata po Evropi. Napušta Varšavu 1830. i odlazi u Pariz, gde ga primaju oni koji zapažaju u njemu više nego običan talenat. Posećuje Lista, Berlioza, Hajnea, Majerbera, i radije izvodi svoja dela u užem krugu publike. Posle jednog putovanja u Drezden, gde se upoznaje s Marijom Vodžinskom, koju ne može da dobije za ženu, on odlazi u Lajpcig, gde nalazi u Klari Vik idealnog interpretatora svojih dela. Zaljubljuje se u Žorž Sand (1836) sa kojom odlazi da provede zimu na Balearskim ostrvima. Ali Šopen, nagrižen bolešću koja ne oprašta, vraća se samo još više bolestan. Ljubavnici žive u Parizu, ili u Noanu, do dana raskida (1847). Posle putovanja u Englesku i Škotsku, Šopen se vraća u Pariz, i tu, sasvim zahvaćen tuberkulozom, umire ubrzo (1849).

Njegova klavirska dela odaju brižnog umetnika koji pati. Nesumnjivo je da se u njima mogu naći mnogobrojne reminiscencije iz njegovog rodnog kraja, izvesna slovenska nostalgija, ritam u osnovi poljski. Ali ima i nečeg više: prisna veza između umetnika, sanjalice, i njegovog omiljenog instrumenta, klavira. Čovek čija je osetljivost neobično utančana crpe iz svoje ljubavi prema Sandovoj stvaralačke snage koje mu inspirišu najslavnija dela: Etide, Preludije, Sonate, Balade, Berseze, dva Koncerta. Romantičar po imaginaciji, neki put klasičar po oblicima koje obrađuje, često inspirisan igrom, ovaj pesnik klavira govori svojim jezikom, sa osetljivošću i prefinjenošću tako ličnom da njegovo celokupno delo, kao kod Baha ili Mocarta, dostiže od prve krajnju granicu lepote. Ima u njegovim Valcerima, Mazurkama, Polonezama, onoliko poezije koliko i u njegovim Impromptima, Nokturnima. Svaka etida, svaki preludij sačinjava jedan potpun i savršen svet. Emocija je izvor njegove umetnosti, a zvučan izraz je njen krajnji cilj. Izrazita melodija, sa svojom osobenom figuracijom, novim ukrasima, koji zahvataju često više oktava, veoma retko osećanje za modulaciju, izvesna tendencija da se insistira na nekom motivu na kome pisac voli da se zadržava, arpeđirani akordi, to su karakteristične osobine ove muzike, u isto vreme i bujne i prijatne, diskretne i strasne, čežnjive i snažne, koja nosi pečat genijalnosti.

*

I tell my piano the things I used to tell you.

U nastavku sledi jedno pismo poljskog kompozitora, na engleskom, upućno nepoznatoj osobi koje otkriva umetnikov senzibilitet, uklopiv u raspoloženja romantičarskih junaka. Ovi crteži, zajedno sa prepiskom i mazurkama, predstavljaju kuriozitet za istraživanje ovog umetničkog i intelektualnog pokreta, ali i za ljubitelje klasične muzike.

Poetski citat na početku koji je floberovski, ako smem impresionistički da ostavim svoj utisak, a bez odgovarajućih dokaza, svedoči o odnosu umetnika i njegovog instrumenta. Za pisca je to papir, za pijanistu klavir, za slikara platno, za skulptora kamen ili glina. Tako klavir postaje dnevnički zapisnik, najbliži poverenik, deo tela.

How strange! This bed on which I shall lie has been slept on by more than one dying man, but today it does not repel me! Who knows what corpses have lain on it and for how long? But is a corpse any worse than I? A corpse too knows nothing of its father, mother or sisters or Titus. Nor has a corpse a sweetheart. A corpse, too, is pale, like me. A corpse is cold, just as I am cold and indifferent to everything. A corpse has ceased to live, and I too have had enough of life….

Why do we live on through this wretched life which only devours us and serves to turn us into corpses? The clocks in the Stuttgart belfries strike the midnight hour. Oh how many people have become corpses at this moment! Mothers have been torn from their children, children from their mothers – how many plans have come to nothing, how much sorrow has sprung from these depths, and how much relief!…

Virtue and vice have come in the end to the same thing! It seems that to die is man’s finest action – and what might be his worst? To be born, since that is the exact opposite of his best deed. It is therefore right of me to be angry that I was ever born into this world! Why was I not prevented from remaining in a world where I am utterly useless? What good can my existence bring to anyone? …

But wait, wait! What’s this? Tears? How long it is since they flowed! How is this, seeing that an arid melancholy has held me for so long in its grip? How good it feels – and sorrowful. Sad but kindly tears! What a strange emotion! Sad but blessed. It is not good for one to be sad, and yet how pleasant it is – a strange state…

Citat: Norbert Dufourcq, Mala istorija muzike u Evropi, preveo Mirko G. Avakumović, Nardona prosvjeta, Sarajevo, 1959.

Izvor: SlikePismo