J[A-Z]Z / p1ck ( Freund - Mangelsdorff - Sextett | Freund - Mangelsdorff - Sextett, 1957

Freund - Mangelsdorff - Sextett, 1957


Joki Freund, Albert Mangelsdorff Sextett /  Domicile, 1957
Written by Joki Freund 


Recorded on June 8th, 1957 at the 5th German Jazz Festival, 
Frankfurt am Main, Kongresshalle, Germany


 Emil Mangelsdorff - Alto Saxophone  
Marcel Rigot - Bass  
Rudi Sehring - Drums  
Pepsi Auer - Piano  
Joki Freund - Tenor Saxophone  
Albert Mangelsdorff - Trombone 

Letter to Tatyana Yakovleva | Vladimir Mayakovsky, 1928

 Tatyana Yakovleva, 1906-1991 


In the kiss of hands
lips,
in body tremors
close to me
red
Colour
my republics
too
should
blaze.
I dont like
Parisian love:
any female
decorate with silk
stretching, dozing,
saying -
tubo -
dogs
ferocious passion.
You are the only one for me
straight growth,
get close
with an eyebrow,
give
about this
important evening
tell
more human.
Five hours,
and from now on
verse
of people
dense forest,
extinct
populated city,
I hear only
whistle dispute
trains to Barcelona.
In the black sky
lightning step,
thunder
ugly
in heavenly drama -
not a thunderstorm
and this
simply
jealousy moves mountains.
stupid words
don't trust raw materials
don't get confused
this shaking,
I bridle
I will humble
feelings
offspring of the nobility.
passion measles
come down with a scab,
but joy
inexhaustible
I'll be long
I'll just
I speak in verse.
Jealousy,
wives,
tears...
well them! -
swollen eyelids,
fit Viu.
I'm not myself
and I
jealous
for Soviet Russia.
Saw
on the shoulders of the patch,
them
consumption
licks with a sigh.
What,
we are not to blame
hundred million
was bad.
We
now
so tender -
sports
straighten not many, -
you and us
needed in Moscow
lacks
leggy.
Not for you,
in the snow
and in typhoid
walking
with these legs
here
for caresses
give them away
in dinners
with the oilmen.
Don't you think
just squinting
from under straightened arcs.
Go here,
go to the crossroads
my big
and clumsy hands.
Do not want?
Stay and winter
and this
insult
we will lower it to the general account.
I don't care
you
someday I'll take
one
or together with Paris.


Vladimir Mayakovsky, c 1928


 Tatyana Yakovleva, 1906-1991                     Vladimir Mayakovsky, 1893-1930

Mayakovsky met with Tatyana Yakovleva in 1928 at the house of Lily Brik's sister Elsa Triolet.
 The poet fell in love at first sight. He spent a little more than a month in Paris, devoting all his 
free time to long walks around the city together with Tatiana. Tall and handsome, they were a
 handsome couple. " You alone are my height", - he wrote in a poem addressed to her. But 
Mayakovsky had to return to the USSR, he long persuaded her to go with him, but she refused.

Before leaving, Mayakovsky left a large sum in one of the Parisian greenhouses with a request
 to send bouquets every Sunday to Yakovleva's address with his business card. The firm was
 respectable and carried out an assignment on a weekly basis: even after the death of the poet, 
Tatyana continued to receive flowers from him.

Although Yakovleva refused to leave after Mayakovsky, she claimed that she was in love with 
him. In a letter to her mother, she confessed: “He is so colossal both physically and mentally
 that after him there is literally a desert. This is the first person who managed to leave a mark 
on my soul.". The lovers wrote letters to each other, in which they did not tire of confessing 
their love to each other. The poet wrote: “ You can't retell and rewrite all the sadness that 
makes me more silent". Unfortunately, Tatyana Yakovleva's letters have not survived - Lilya 
Brik, who gained access to the poet's archive after his death, obviously destroyed all evidence 
of his love for another woman - she herself should have remained the only muse. Shortly 
before her death, Tatyana Yakovleva said: “ I am grateful to her for that. Otherwise, I would 
have returned to the USSR for Mayakovsky, I loved him so much. And would inevitably 
perish in the meat grinder of 1937».

In October 1929, Lilya Brik, not without gloating, told the poet the news that his new muse 
was about to marry Viscount Bertrand du Plessis, although there was no talk of a wedding at 
that time. Later, Tatyana nevertheless became his wife, and this marriage became, in her words,
 "an escape from Volodya." She understood that she would no longer see him - Mayakovsky was 
no longer allowed to go abroad (according to rumors, Lilya Brik took care of this). The poet's 
friend Natalya Bryukhanenko recalled: “ In January 1929, Mayakovsky said that he was in love 
and would shoot himself if he could not see this woman soon.". And in April 1930 he pulled the
 trigger. What circumstances prompted him to take this step, and whether it was suicide - 
biographers argue to this day.



Alphabetarion # Modesty | Margaret Atwood, 1985

 Robert Mapplethorpe, Calla Lily, 1988

“Modesty is invisibility. Never forget it. 
To be seen—to be seen—is to be penetrated.”

Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid's Tale, 1985

Also:

True Poetry is Antibiographical | Paul Celan, 1920-70

Paul Celan, 1920-70                                                      Paul Celan, Microliths, 2020

"True poetry is antibiographical. The poet’s homeland is his poem and changes from one
 poem to the next. The distances are the old, eternal ones: infinite like the cosmos, in which 
each poem attempts to assert itself as a — minuscule — star. Infinite also like the distance 
between one’s I and one’s You: from both sides, from both poles the bridge is built: in the 
middle, halfway, where the carrier pylon is expected, from above or from below, there is the
 place of the poem. From above: invisible and uncertain. From below: from the abyss of 
hope for the distant, the future-distant kin."

Paul Celan, from “Microliths”
 trans Pierre Joris

Also:

Winder days | Photos by Pentti Sammallahti, 1978-2016

Pentti Sammallahti, Sulhanen, Lapinlahti, 1981 
Pentti Sammallahti, Unionnikatu, Kluuvi, Helsinki, 1978
Pentti Sammallahti, Kymintie, Kumpula, 1987
Pentti Sammallahti, Iso Puistotie, Kaivopuisto, 1997
Pentti Sammallahti, Tamminiementie, Meilahti, 1996
Pentti Sammallahti, Dog on Road Finström, Arland Island, Finland 1978
Pentti Sammallahti, Helsinki, Finland, 2016                           Pentti Sammallahti, Finström, Åland, Finland, 1981

Pentti Sammallahti, Gotland, Sweden, 1997
Pentti Sammallahti,  Jurmo, Finland 1973

Also:

Alphabetarion # Commerce | Matt Haig, 2015

Ellsworth Kelly, Colors on a Grid (Axsom 140), 1976 

“The World Is increasingly designed to depress us. Happiness isn’t very good for the economy.
 If we were happy with what we had, why would we need more? How do you sell an anti-ageing
 moisturiser? You make someone worry about ageing. How do you get people to vote for a political
 party? You make them worry about immigration. How do you get them to buy insurance? By making
 them worry about everything. How do you get them to have plastic surgery? By highlighting their
 physical flaws. How do you get them to watch a TV show? By making them worry about missing 
out. How do you get them to buy a new smartphone? By making them feel like they are being left
 behind. To be calm becomes a kind of revolutionary act. To be happy with your own non-upgraded
 existence. To be comfortable with our messy, human selves, would not be good for business.”

 Matt Haig, Reasons to Stay Alive, 2015

Silence | Lucian Blaga, 1919

Radu Belcin, Alter Ego I, 2015


Such a deep silence surrounds me, that I think I hear
moonbeams striking on the windows.

In my chest,
a strange voice is awakens
and a song plays inside me
a longing that is not mine.

They say that ancestors, dead before their time,
with young blood still in their veins,
with great passion in their blood,
with the sun still burning in their blood
come,
come to continue to live
within us
their unfinished lives.

Such a deep silence surrounds me, that I think I hear
moonbeams striking on the windows.

O, who knows, soul of mine, in which chest you will sing
you also, after centuries,
in soft ropes of silence,
on harps of obscurity – the drowned longing
and the pleasure of living torn? Who knows?
Who knows?

Lucian Blaga, Silence, 1919


Lucian Blaga (1895 – 1961) was a Romanian philosopher, poet, playwright, 
poetry translator and novelist.

Also:

Window shopping | Paintings by August Macke, 1910s

August Macke, Fashion store, 1914
August Macke, The Hat Shop, 1913                                   August Macke, Two women in front of a hat shop, 1914
August Macke, Bright woman in front of a hat store, 1913                August Macke, Woman in front of a large illuminated window, 1910s
August Macke, Hat shop, 1914                                              August Macke, Fashion Window, 1910s

Also:


J[A-Z]Z / p1ck ( Waltz for Debby | Monica Zetterlund / Bill Evans, 1964

Monica Zetterlund / Bill Evans - Some Other Time (1964)
1992 reissue cover

 
Monica Zetterlund / Bill Evans - Some Other Time (1964)
 (Leonard Bernstein, Betty Comden, Adolph Green)

Recorded on August 29, 1964 in Stockholm, Sweden  

Bill Evans – piano
Monica Zetterlund – vocals
Larry Bunker – drums
Chuck Israels – bass

Monica Zetterlund / Bill Evans
Photo: Kjell Elgstam

Also:

Alphabetarion # Health | Robert Bly, 1926-2021

Kenneth Noland, Flutter, 1960

 “I know men who are healthier at fifty than they've ever 
been before, because a lot of their fear is gone.

Robert Bly, 1926-2021

Book//mark - The First Men in the Moon | H.G. Wells, 1901

The First Men in the Moon, 1901                                                                 H.G. Wells, 1901


“What is this spirit in man that urges him forever to depart from happiness and security, to toil, to place
 himself in danger, even to risk a reasonable certainty of death? It dawned upon me up there in the
 moon as a thing I ought always to have known, that man is not made simply to go about being safe
 and comfortable and well fed and amused. Against his interest, against his happiness he is constantly
 being driven to do unreasonable things. Some force not himself impels him and go he must.”

“One can't always be magnificent, but simplicity is always a possible alternative.”

“He showed it to me with all the confiding zest of a man who has been living too much
 alone. This seclusion was overflowing now in an excess of confidence, and I had the good
 luck to be the recipient.”

“So utterly at variance is Destiny with all the little plans of men.”

“Over me, about me, closing in on me, embracing me ever nearer, was the Eternal, that which was
 before the beginning and that which triumphs over the end; that enormous void in which all light 
and life and being is but the thin and vanishing splendour of a falling star, the cold, the stillness,
 the silence, - the infinite and final Night of space.”

“I perceived with a sudden novel vividness the extraordinary folly of everything I had ever done.”

“It is really in the end a far more humane proceeding than our earthly method of
 leaving children to grow into human beings, and then making machines of them.”

“The sense of my utter loneliness had been agony.”

“Sooner or later it must come out, even if other men rediscover it. And then...Governments and
 powers will struggle to get hither, they will fight against one another and against these moon 
people. It will only spread warfare and multiply the occasions of war. In a little while, in a very
 little while if I tell my secret, this planet to it's deepest galleries will be strewn with human 
dead. Other things are doubtful, but this is certain...It is not as though man had any use for the
 moon. What good would the moon be to men? Even of their own planet what have they made 
but a battleground and theatre of infinite folly? Small as his world is, and short as his time, he 
has still in his little life down there far more than he can do. No! Science has toiled too long 
forging weapons for fools to use. It is time she held her hand. Let him find it out for himself 
again-in a thousand years' time.”

It's [the moon] dead - dead! Vast extinct volcanoes, lava wildernesses, tumbled wastes 
of snow, or frozen carbonic acid, or frozen air, and everywhere landslip seams and cracks 
and gulfs. Nothing happens. Men have watched this planet systematically with telescopes
 for over two hundred years. How much change do you think they have seen? None.

"Those who have only seen the starry sky from the earth cannot imagine its appearance 
when the vague half-luminous veil of our air has been withdrawn. The stars we see on
 earth are the mere scattered survivors that penetrate our misty atmosphere."


H.G. Wells, The First Men in the Moon, 1901

Also:

Art Nouveau Combs by René Lalique, 1890s-1900s

 Rene Lalique, 1897-1898                              Rene Lalique, Orange Sun Landscape, 1895
René Lalique, Deux Fleurs hair comb, 1900
René Lalique, Jewellery comb "Bathing Naiads", 1900                            * René Lalique, Lalique horn, 1898
René Lalique, Daffodil comb, carved horn and amethyst, 1900
 Rene Lalique, Sea Holly, 1900            Rene Lalique, A tiara comb carved in horn, 1890
 Rene Lalique, Trois Perles Suspendues, 1904
 Rene Lalique, Le peigne aux abeilles, 1900                                  Rene Lalique, Design of two raptors, 1900
 Rene Lalique, Tortoiseshell enameled bats, 1900
 Rene Lalique, Lily of the Valley comb, 1900                Rene Lalique, Masque With Pairs of Dancing Nymphs And Serpents, 1900
 Rene Lalique, Scrolls And Wheat, 1900
Two entwined snakes each biting the same ball shaped object, 1900     Winged Women Comb, 1900


Also:

Stereosc2pe + | Man with Pipe | Paul Cézanne, 1891-1896

Paul Cézanne, Man with Pipe, 1892-1896                              Paul Cézanne, Man Smoking a Pipe, 1891




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