Tuesday, October 12, 2021

Tuesday, July 10, 2018

Σινόπουλος / Ρίτσος / Escher - Παρόμοιες Πλεύσεις


"Άλλοι κατέβαιναν στο βάθος, άλλοι ανεβαίνανε μεμιάς στα ύψη. Όλοι τους άγγελοι. Και δύσκολο να ξεχωρίσεις - τί να ξεχωρίσεις;"
Τάκης Σινόπουλος "Ο Χάρτης" (1977)

"Ταπεινά - ταπεινά, εδώ να μείνεις - είπε· - εδώ· τι τάχα
εδώ ή εκεί; - κατεβαίνουν εκείνοι, ανεβαίνουν οι άλλοι 
την ίδια σκάλα· - δε χαιρετιούνται. Ένα παράθυρο κλείνει,
άλλο παράθυρο ανοίγει. Ίδια η θέα : πεδιάδα, λόφος,
ένας γέροντας πάει μέσα στο δείλι, μόνος, με το ραβδί του,
λιόδεντρα, αμπέλια, ο κρεμασμένος, κυπαρίσσια, η λεύκα,
καμπαναριό, το ποτάμι, το σκυλί, το λεωφορείο, ένα λαγήνι,
αγάλματα, μεγάλες μαρμάρινες φτερούγες - 
κι αν τις φορέσεις στους ώμους σου, πώς να πετάξεις;"

Γιάννης Ρίτσος "Ο Τοίχος Μέσα Στον Καθρέφτη" (1974)

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Mémo - A short animation


Η παραπάνω ταινία μου έφερε στο νου ένα ποίημα του Μίλτου Σαχτούρη που έχει τον τίτλο "Ημερολόγιο":

Ημερολόγιο (του Μίλτου Σαχτούρη)

Δεν είναι καλοκαίρι
δεν είναι άνοιξη
είναι χειμώνας
περνάν τα χρόνια

περνούν οι εποχές
κι αυτή η καρδιά
ώς πότε θ’ αντέξει;
σήμερα είδα έναν άνθρωπο
φώναζε

στριφογύριζε μ’ ορμή
το σακάκι του
και φώναζε
για το Διάβολο
και το Θεό

κι εγώ με το μπερέ
και το κόκκινο κασκόλ
ξεχνάω
ολοένα ξεχνάω
σε λίγο θα ξεχάσω

και ποιός είμαι
και τότε…

Monday, March 13, 2017

Monday, February 6, 2017

Σεφέρης




"Πότε θα ξαναμιλήσεις;
Είναι παιδιά πολλών ανθρώπων τα λόγια μας.

Σπέρνουνται γεννιούνται σαν τα βρέφη
ριζώνουν θρέφουνται με το αίμα.

Όπως τα πεύκα
κρατούνε τη μορφή του αγέρα

ενώ ο αγέρας έφυγε, δεν είναι εκεί
το ίδιο τα λόγια

φυλάγουν τη μορφή του ανθρώπου
κι ο άνθρωπος έφυγε, δεν είναι εκεί."
 

Γιώργος Σεφέρης, «Επί σκηνής», ΣΤ΄, 1-10. Τρία κρυφά ποιήματα, 1966. Ποιήματα. Ίκαρος, 1974. 290.

 

MIning Poems Or Odes

Monday, October 31, 2016

Peter Hammill's "(No More) The Sub-Mariner"



(No More) The Sub-Mariner (1974)

"In my youth, I played at trains: now all steam is gone.
In my dreams, brief shelter from the rain,
I try to catch the fireglow...
With Dinky Toys, I thought that I was Stirling,
With cricket bat, I saw myself as Peter May;
Now, with all these images returning,
I wonder who I am today?

As a child, I refought the war
With plastic planes and imagination:
I sank Tirpitz, blew up the Mohne dam, all these and more,
I was the saviour of the Nation!
Oh! To be the captain of a ship of war!
The pilot of a Tempest or a York!
To hold my trench against the Panzer Korps
Instead of simply being one who talks
And reminisces of his fantasies,
As though life was nothing but to lose...
These only antecede the knowledge that, eventually,
He must choose.

It's a hallmark of adulthood
That our options diminish
As our faculties for choice increase,
Till we choose everything and nothing,
Too late, at the finish.

In my youth, I held belief: my faith and thought were strong.
But now I'm stripped of every leaf,
And it robs me of the sight of right and wrong.
Oh! To be the son of Che Guevara!
One unit in the serried ranks of black!
A Papist or an Orangeman, a eunuch...
Then doubt would never cast the dagger in my back.
Oh! To be King John or Douglas Bader,
Humphrey Bogart or Victor Mature!
Which one is false and easy,
Which one harder?
Of that,
Of this,
Of me
I'm really not too sure."

Listen to:
Peter Hammill - (No More) The Sub-Mariner

Thursday, October 20, 2016

The grains of sand on Van Gogh's painting



Recently, a painting of Vincent Van Gogh was recovered in Naples among others stolen in December 2002. The painting is called "View of the Sea at Scheveningen". It was painted by Vincent van Gogh on location in 1882, at a beach resort near the Hague. 

While living in the Hague, Van Gogh made regular trips to Scheveningen, a nearby fishing village. He had begun to experiment with oil paint, and he set up his easel close to the beach and worked directly on his canvas in the windblown sand. He fought against the raging elements while applying thick and expressive colours and rough brushstrokes to evoke them. The rough sea, the dark menacing sky and the gusting wind progressively stopped hindering him and started to embed themselves in the painting. Flying sand stuck to the wet paint and became part of it. The grains of sand can still be seen in some of the paint layers today.

It is those grains of sand, stuck on that canvas in 1882 that attest that, even by that early time (he had just started to paint one year ago), Van Gogh had succeeded in finding the holy grail of painting. To transpose a living scene on canvas, not as a picture, but as a direct experience that can be relived from then on to eternity. It's as if nature itself had lend a hand to perfect this painting, opening up its secrets to the eyes of this man on that desolate beach. As soon as Van Gogh put the finishing touches to this painting, he managed to get a glimpse of William Blake's auguries of innocence and saw a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a wild flower. He held infinity in the palm of his hand and eternity in an hour...