Pastels & Aquarelles. No Poetry.

Save your criticism! Never painted before!

Community – Communication – Forgotten Means of Getting in Touch

No Comments.
…..just one more thing: stop Facebooking! By doing that you create your own dossier and make the fbi’s job so much easier….

Intimate Portraits of Sycamore Trees

….just like people, pain and sadness is hard to hide…

"As I Walked Out One Evening"

...The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world."
But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
"O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time....
"O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you've missed...

W.H. Auden(1937)

Per te, amore…

Io non so parlar d'amore
l'emozione non ha voce
E mi manca un po il respire
Se ci sei c'e troppa luce

La mia anima si spande
Come musica d'estate
Poi la voglia sai mi prende
E mi accende con i baci tuoi

Io con te saro sincero
Restero quel che sono
Disonesto mai lo giuro
Ma se tradisci non perdono

Ti saro per sempre amico
Pur geloso come sai
Io lo so mi contraddico
Ma preziosa sei tu per me…

“Late Night Departure”

…We sit on the floor,
The room is dark and weary,
I lit up a cigarette
And place between your lips…

So much to explain, to say
But talk we’d rather not…
This room will hold my scent
Long after I am gone…

I decode your thoughts
In your kind grey eyes –
How trivial uttering words
When the two can read each other’s mind…

In silence you gaze
Memorizing my face…
Am still amused and I smile -
How easy to read your mind!…

One thought made me quiver with pain,
“Will I ever see him one more time?”
“Will I ever touch her again?” –
Your thought is echoing mine…
**********************
The room is dark and weary…
Between your face and mine
A cloudy, smoky veil,
In this haze we’re slowly drifting apart…
August 1980

A little update from the Greek section at the Met… Among others, a papyri fragment of “Iliad”…

The Central Park, NYC, on a soft May 1st, 2009

Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio

Be your own art expert. Two paintings posted side by side, one – the original, the second is a copy (the “Doria version”, some do suggest that Caravaggio himself had copied his own work):
“…here’s the boy’s gaze caught the viewer directly, mockingly, whereas the eyes of the Doria boy seemed slightly averted, the smile distinctly less open…”

…he (Caravaggio) had been resurrected from obscurity, in large part by Roberto Longhi, who had written in 1941 that Caravaggio was “one of the least known painters if Italian art”. His eclipse occurred with astonishing rapidity. Caravaggio’s realism had initially attracted many followers – the Caravaggisti.
…By the end of the XVII century, he was regarded as a minor painter of low repute. The years passed and few connoseurs bothered to take a note of him. One who did , the nineteenth-century English critic John Raskin, wrote in disgust that “Caravaggio fed “upon horror and ugliness, and filthiness of sin.”

When Longhi put together his Caravaggio exhibition in Milan in 1951, many of the visitors, art historians among them, knew little or nothing about the artist. His paintings had long been consigned to the back rooms and storage bins of galleries and museums…

Regarding this painting, St. John, most art historians thought Caravaggio had stolen the pose from Michelangelo, from a nude in the Sistine Chapel.

(from the book by Jonathan Harr, “The Lost Painting”)

Michal Kleofas Oginski - Polonaise "Farewell to the Homeland"

Michal Kleofas Ogiñski (born October 7, 1765, Guzów near Warsaw - died October 10, 1833, Florence, Italy) was both Belarusian and Polish statesman, rebel, composer, most known for his polonaise Po¿egnanie Ojczyzny / Farewell to the Homeland.
Ambassador, composer, the General Paymaster of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania.
He was born in Guzów near Warsaw. Graduated at home. Was good at music and foreign languages especially.

Happy Spring To All! Happy Travel to Some!

"There are souls, in these noise-tired times, that turn aside into unfrequented lanes, where the deep woods have harbored the fragrances of many a blossoming season. Here the light, filtering through perfect forms, arranges itself in lovely patterns for those who perceive beauty..."
Roy J. Cook

Anna Akhmatova:

"There are the words that couldn’t be twice said,
He, who said once, spent out all his senses.
Only two things have never their end –
The heavens’ blue and the Creator’s mercy."

Tribute to Mysterious Hafiz…

“…Keep perfumes away from our feast tonight
The fragrance of your hair, our feast will grace.
Speak not to me of sweetness of candy and sugar;
Since my lips, sweetness of your lips, did once trace.
Your treasures are hidden in the ruins of my heart
And my path to the tavern has now become sacred space.
Speak not of disgrace; that's my fame and my base
And fame and high place, I despise and debase.
Drunk and disconcerted and demented and deceived
Show me one who's not, within our town and our race.
Fault not the pious one, because he, also, like us,
Is seeking love and grace, in his own way, at his own pace…”

Estas Tonne (acustic guitar)

Most amazing guitarist of our time plays "Russian Nostalgia"...

La Place Rouge (Nathalie)

Le soir Nostalgie....
Very few people know this song by it’s original name, “La Place Rouge” – to every Russian Natasha, this the song is about her and to her… To all Nathalies!

Oleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!

Los Farruco – the first family of flamenco dance – is a famous flamenco dynasty known for its electrifying performances of Spanish Gypsy art. Conceived and directed by Farruquito, grandson of the legendary patriarch El Farruco, this program features La Farruca, daughter of El Farruco, noted for her passionate dancing; her son, Farruco, a rising star in flamenco known for his remarkable footwork; La Faraona, dubbed “the mother of buleria” by her father El Farruco; Barullo, grandson of El Farruco, who maintains the elegance of traditional flamenco dance