Spring | Paintings by Milton Avery, 1938-1963

Milton Avery, Spring Orchard, 1959
Milton Avery,  Spring Orchard, 1959
Milton Avery, Spring in Vermont, 1945
Milton Avery, Vermont Spring, 1945
Milton Avery, Early Spring, 1944
Milton Avery, Spring Trees, 1963
Milton Avery, Spring, 1954
Milton Avery, Verdant Spring, 1938
Milton Avery, Springtime, 1943
Milton Avery, Shapes of Spring, 1952
Milton Avery, Early Spring, 1954
Milton Avery, Early Spring, 1943


Alphabetarion # Transparent | Jean Baudrillard, 1986

Henri Matisse, Femme accoudée, 1935

“Smile and others will smile back. Smile to show how transparent, how candid you are. 
Smile if you have nothing to say. Most of all, do not hide the fact you have nothing to say 
nor your total indifference to others. Let this emptiness, this profound indifference
 shine out spontaneously in your smile.”

Jean Baudrillard, America, 1986

Flick Review < US Go Home | Claire Denis, 1994

US Go Home (1994)
Director: Claire Denis
Writers: Claire Denis, Anne Wiazemsky
Cinematography: Agnès Godard
Stars: Alice Houri, Jessica Tharaud, Grégoire Colin, Vincent Gallo

Claire Denis with Vincent Gallo on the set of US Go Home, 1994

Book//mark - Look Homeward, Angel | Thomas Wolfe, 1929

Thomas Wolfe, 1937 by Carl Van Vechten                  Thomas Wolfe, Look Homeward, Angel, 1929

“. . . a stone, a leaf, an unfound door; a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces.

Naked and alone we came into exile. In her dark womb we did not know our mother's face; from
 the prison of her flesh have we come into the unspeakable and incommunicable prison of this earth.

Which of us has known his brother? Which of us has looked into his father's heart? Which of us
 has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone?

O waste of lost, in the hot mazes, lost, among bright stars on this weary, unbright cinder, lost!
 Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into
 heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?

O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again.”

"Wind pressed the boughs, the withered leaves were shaking. It was October, but 
the leaves were shaking. A star was shaking. A light was waking. Wind was quaking."

"I am, he thought, a part of all that I have touched and that has touched me, which, having for me
 no existence save that which I gave to it, became other than itself by being mixed with what I then
 was, and is now still otherwise, having fused with what I now am, which is itself a cumulation 
of what I have been becoming. Why here? Why there? Why now? Why then?"

"But we are the sum of all the moments of our lives — all that is ours is in them: 
we cannot escape or conceal it." 

“He was devoured by a vast strange hunger for life. At night, he listened to the million-noted uludation
 of little night things, the great brooding symphony of dark, the ringing of remote churchbells across the
 country. And his vision widened out in circles over moon-drenched meadows, dreaming woods,
 mighty rivers going along in darkness, and ten thousand sleeping towns. He believed in the infinite
 rich variety of all the towns and faces: behind any of a million shabby houses he believed there was
 strange buried life, subtle and shattered romance, something dark and unknown. At the moment of
 passing any house, he thought, someone therein might be at the gate of death, lovers might lie 
twisted in hot embrace . . .” 

“...he was like a man who stands upon a hill above the town he had left, yet does not say 
'The town is near,' but turns his eyes upon the distant soaring ranges.”

“The mountains were his masters. They rimmed in life. They were the cup of reality, 
beyond growth, beyond struggle and death. They were his absolute unity in the 
midst of eternal change.” 

“My dear, dear girl [. . .] we can't turn back the days that have gone. We can't turn life back 
to the hours when our lungs were sound, our blood hot, our bodies young. We are a flash of 
fire--a brain, a heart, a spirit. And we are three-cents-worth of lime and iron--which we
 cannot get back.” 

“Each of us is all the sums he has not counted: subtract us into the nakedness and night 
again, and you shall see begin in Crete four thousand years ago the love that ended
 yesterday in Texas.” 

“By God, I shall spend the rest of my life getting my heart back, healing and forgetting every
 scar you put upon me when I was a child. The first move I ever made, after the cradle, was 
to crawl for the door, and every move I have made since has been an effort to escape.”

“And who shall say--whatever disenchantment follows--that we ever forget magic; or that
 we can ever betray, on this leaden earth, the apple-tree, the singing, and the gold?”

Thomas Wolfe, Look Homeward, Angel, 1929

Έρθης δεν έρθης | Κωστής Παλαμάς, 1859-1943

Λιλή Ιακωβίδη, Κωστής Παλαμάς

Έρθης δεν έρθης, εγω θα σύρω
τἀργά τα πόδια γοργά ως εκεί,
το κουρασμένο κορμί να γείρω
στην έρμη πέτρα τη μυστική.

Και θα προσμένω και θα πεθαίνω
και θανασταίνομαι -μιλώ, μένω-
με τη μιλιά σου·
Έρθης δεν έρθης, θα σε αγκαλιάζω
και με τη σκέψη μου θα ταιριάζω
τη ζωγραφιά σου.

Νύχτα. Στο χώμα θα πάω να ψάξω
το πάτημά σου να βρω, θα δράξω
γή μέσ᾿ στη φούχτα να τη φιλήσω,
κι από κλωνάρια κι από χορτάρια
μέσα στα χέρια δροσιά θα κλείσω,
σαν απ' τη σάρκα κι απ' τη δροσιά σου.

Πέρα της χώρας ἀνάρια ἀνάρια,
παιζογελώντας με, τα λυχνάρια
θα μ᾿ αχνοστέλνουν το φάντασμά σου.
Μ' όλα της νύχτας τα λυχνιτάρια
θα ψάξω ναβρώ το πέρασμά σου.

Και με το σεῖσμα τ 'αχνού του τρόμου
ἢ με το κάρφωμα εκστατικό,
στη γνωρισμένη πλαγιά του δρόμου,
Ερθης δεν ἔρθης, θα καρτερώ.

Τρελό καρτέρι, και ολόγυρά μου
ἡ κρυφή νύχτα και ἡ σιγανή·
μόνο γιομάτη θα ειν' η καρδιά μου
από την ψάλτρα σου τη φωνή.

Και οι στρατολάτες που θα περνάνε,
και όσα τριγύρω μου ριζωμένα,
κάτι από σένα θα μου μηνᾶνε,
και θα μου παίρνουν κάτι από σένα.

Για σε ξανάβρα και ξαναπήρα
των είκοσί μου χρόνων τη λύρα,
κ' έρριξ' απάνου
στους λυγισμένους μου ώμους του πλάνου
πάθους απότομα την πορφύρα.

Τῆς ὁρμῆς εἶμ᾿ ἐγώ το παιδί,
τ 'ανἄσασμα εἶσαι τῶν ἄγριων κρίνων,
το λάτρεμα εἶσαι, το φυλαχτό
τῶν ἐρωτόπαθων πελεγρίνων.

Στερνή κατάρα, μοίρα κακή
τούτ' η λαχτάρα, κοντά, μακριά σου,
ἢ σπλαχνισμένου αγγέλου εὐκή
να ξεψυχήσω με το όνομά σου;

Έρθης, δεν έρθης, εγώ θα σύρω
τἀργά τα πόδια γοργά ως εκεί,
στην έρμη απάνου πέτρα θα γείρω,
Ἴσκιε, στα πόδια σου το κορμί...

Κωστής Παλαμάς, 1859-1943

 Κωστής Παλαμάς, Αρτεμις Ρέσσου, Αιδηψός
στα σκαλιά του ξενοδοχείου «Ηράκλειον»

The Sixties | Photos by Roger Kasparian | The Who / Marianne Faithfull / The Beatles / The Kinks / Van Morrison / The Beach Boys / The Rolling Stones / Francoise Hardy

Roger Kasparian: The Who, 18th Arrondissement, 1965
The Kinks in the lobby of Le Bourget airport, Paris, 1965
Roger Kasparian, Marianne Faithfull, Avenue Montaigne & with Eiffel Tower in background, Paris 1965
Marianne Faithfull close up, Avenue Montaigne, Paris 1965
Roger Kasparian: The Beatles in the lobby of Le Bourget airport, Paris, 1964
The Beatles, Palais Des Sports de Paris, 20 June 1965
Roger Kasparian: Beach Boys, Champs Elysees, Paris, 1964
The Beach Boys were looking at the international press at the windows of an old newsstand, Roger went in and took this picture.
Beach Boys in Paris, 18 November 1964, performing at The Olympia for their first French concert.
The Rolling Stones, near the Grand Palais, 1965
Roger Kasparian: Keith signs an autograph in the lobby of Le Bourget airport, Paris, 1964
Francoise Hardy with pigeons, Paris, April/May 1962
Francoise Hardy with her press, Paris, April/May 1962
Van Morrison, stage door, The Olympia, Paris, 1965                                 Roger Kasparian on location with Francoise Hardy


Alphabetarion # Come | Angela Davis

Stephen Shames, 1972

 “If they come for me in the morning, 
they will come for you in the night.”

 Angela Davis

Toys of the Avant-Garde (1916 - 1942) | Sophie Taeuber-Arp / Paul Klee / Minka Podhajska / Pablo Picasso / Lyonel Feininger / Luigi Veronesi / Ladisla Sutnar / Joaquin Torres-Garcia / Otto Morach / Alma Siedhoff-Busher

Joaquin Torres-Garcia, Character  (replica)                       Unknown Artist, Sky-High Building Blocks, 1920s
Sophie Taeuber-Arp, Deramo, 1918                                                                  Sophie Taeuber-Arp, Dr. Complex, 1918
Paul Klee, "Untitled" (Big Eared Clown), 1925                                            Group of hand puppets, made for Felix Klee by his father Paul Klee, 1916-25
Luigi Veronesi - “Devils"Puppets” for "The Soldier’s Tale” by Igor Stravinsky, 1942               Otto Morach, La boite a joujoux: The Blue Doll, 1918
Ladisla Sutnar - Steamroller, 1927                                                  Minka Podhajska, Series of Personifications of Childhood Misdeeds, 1930
Joaquin Torres-Garcia, Figure, 1930                                                Pablo Picasso, Figure, 1935
Pablo Picasso, Horse, 1960                                                                       Early 20th century crow pull toy
Alma Siedhoff-Busher, Ball Games, 1924                                            Lyonel Feininger, Toy Town, 1925
Minka Podhajska,  Set of Small Money Boxes, 1930


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