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Avro Close Up
Francesca Woodman – fotografe
Documentaire
– Dinsdag 10 april 2012 – N2 23:00 – 00:00
– Zondag 15 april 2012 – N2 17:05 – 18:05
fleursdumal.nl magazine
More in: Art & Literature News, Francesca Woodman, Francesca Woodman
Avro Close Up
Francesca Woodman – fotografe
Documentaire
– Dinsdag 10 april 2012 – 23:00 – 00:00
– Zondag 15 april 2012 – 17:05 – 18:05
Nadat de zeer talentvolle Amerikaanse fotografe Sarah Woodman op 22-jarige leeftijd zelfmoord pleegde, kostte het haar ouders en broer – eveneens kunstenaars – jaren om in het reine te komen met haar dood. Ondertussen vergaarde Woodman postuum roem met haar mysterieuze zwart-wit foto’s van naakte vrouwen in verlaten interieurs, waarop zij zelf vaak prominent figureerde.
Francesca Woodman (1958-1981) groeide op in een gezin van zeer gedreven kunstenaars. Haar moeder, Betty Woodman, was ceramiste en haar vader, George Woodman, schilderde. Francesca bracht de zomers van haar jeugd met haar ouders en broer door in Florence, waar ze als klein meisje in musea ronddwaalde en haar schetsboeken vulde met tekeningen van vrouwen in formele kleding.
De ouders van Francesca leefden volgens het principe ‘kunst is keihard werken’ maar desondanks stonden ze verbaasd over de ambitie van hun opgroeiende dochter die haar ouders in doelgerichtheid en vastberadenheid overtrof. Als zeventienjarige werd Woodman verliefd op de fotografie en al snel ontwikkelde ze een complexe, volwassen stijl waarbij ze als haar eigen model figureerde in mysterieuze taferelen die zich afspeelden in verlaten en vervallen interieurs. In de jaren die volgden verhuisde ze naar New York waar ze in de kunstwereld als veelbelovend werd gezien, maar een doorbraak liet op zich wachten. Ondertussen worstelde Francesca met depressies, een strijd die haar zo zwaar viel dat ze in 1981 een einde maakte aan haar leven.
De documentaire ‘Francesca Woodman – Fotografe’ schetst een beeld van het uitzonderlijke talent van Francesca Woodman, van wie het werk tegenwoordig in musea hangt. De film laat ook zien hoe haar ouders en haar broer het vroegtijdig overlijden van hun dochter en zus verwerkt hebben en welke rol hun eigen kunst gespeeld heeft in een lang en pijnlijk proces.
Regie: C. Scott Willis
Een productie van C. Scott Films
Close Up: Francesca Woodman – Fotografe:
10 april 2012, 23.00 uur, Ned. 2.
Herhaling: Zondag 15 april , 17.05 uur, Ned. 2.
fleursdumal.nl magazine
More in: Art & Literature News, Francesca Woodman, Francesca Woodman
Heinrich von Kleist
(1777-1811)
Der höhere Friede
Wenn sich auf des Krieges Donnerwagen
Menschen waffnen, auf der Zwietracht Ruf,
Menschen, die im Busen Herzen tragen,
Herzen, die der Gott der Liebe schuf:
Denk´ich, können sie doch mir nichts rauben,
Nicht den Frieden, der sich selbst bewährt,
Nicht die Unschuld, nicht an Gott den Glauben,
Der dem Hasse wie dem Schrecken wehrt;
Nicht des Ahorns dunkelm Schatten wehren,
Daß er mich im Weizenfeld erquickt,
Und das Lied der Nachtigall nicht stören,
Die den stillen Busen mir entzückt.
Heinrich von Kleist poetry
fleursdumal.nl magazine
More in: Archive K-L, Heinrich von Kleist, Kleist, Heinrich von
Elizabeth (Lizzie) Siddal
(1829-1862)
Fragment of a Ballad
Many a mile over land and sea
Unsummoned my love returned to me;
I remember not the words he said
But only the trees moaning overhead.
And he came ready to take and bear
The cross I had carried for many a year,
But words came slowly one by one
From frozen lips shut still and dumb.
How sounded my words so still and slow
To the great strong heart that loved me so,
Who came to save me from pain and wrong
And to comfort me with his love so strong?
I felt the wind strike chill and cold
And vapours rise from the red-brown mould;
I felt the spell that held my breath
Bending me down to a living death.
Elizabeth (Lizzie) Siddal poems
fleursdumal.nl magazine
More in: Archive S-T, Lizzy Siddal, Siddal, Lizzy
Elizabeth (Lizzie) Siddal
(1829-1862)
Shepherd Turned Sailor
Now Christ ye save yon bonny shepherd
Sailing on the sea;
Ten thousand souls are sailing there
But they belong to Thee.
If he is lost then all is lost
And all is dead to me.
My love should have a grey head-stonee
And green moss at his feet
And clinging grass above his breast
Whereon his lambs could bleat,
And I should know the span of earth
Where some day I might sleep.
Elizabeth (Lizzie) Siddal poems
fleursdumal.nl magazine
More in: Archive S-T, Lizzy Siddal, Siddal, Lizzy
Heinrich von Kleist
(1777-1811)
Jünglingsklage
Winter, so weichst du,
Lieblicher Greis,
Der die Gefühle
Ruhigt zu Eis.
Nun unter Frühlings
Ueppigem Hauch
Schmelzen die Ströme –
Busen, du auch!
Heinrich von Kleist poetry
fleursdumal.nl magazine
More in: Archive K-L, Heinrich von Kleist, Kleist, Heinrich von
Special event at Highgate Cemetery London
for the 150th anniversary of Lizzie Siddal’s death
February 11th is the 150th anniversary of Lizzie’s death. To commemorate this, Highgate Cemetery (Lizzie’s final resting place) is having a Talk at the cemetery on that day by Lucinda Hawksley, author of Lizzie Siddal: Face of the Pre-Raphaelites.
From the Highgate Cemetery website: This is a unique and historic occasion as it is in commemoration of the 150th anniversary of Lizzie Siddal’s death: she died on February 11th 1862 and was buried at Highgate Cemetery six days later.
Lizzie Siddal was a nineteenth-century phenomenon: a working-class girl whose beauty made her the Pre-Raphaelite movement’s most celebrated, iconic face. Dante Rossetti, founder and leading light of the movement, painted and drew her obsessively a thousand times. She soon became a poet and artist in her own right.
However, as his lover and finally his wife, Lizzie’s relationship with Rossetti was blighted by his infidelities and neglect. In despair, Lizzie resorted to laudanum to numb her senses. In 1862 she took an overdose and left a suicide note.
Lucinda’s illustrated and vivid account of Lizzie’s meteoric but brief career and her tortured relationship breathes new life into the images of Lizzie frozen in time in galleries around the world.
The talk commences at 6.30 and will last around an hour. Booking: is in advance by email only at events@highgate-cemetery.org. Tickets: cost £10 each (£8 for students) including refreshments and nibbles. Space is limited so early booking is advised.
About Elizabeth Siddal
Elizabeth Siddal (July 25, 1829 – February 11, 1862)
While working in a millinery shop, Lizzie was discovered by the artist Walter Deverell who painted her as Viola in his depiction of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. Lizzie went on to model for other Pre-Raphaelite artists and is most commonly recognized as Ophelia in the painting by John Everett Millais, but was the charismatic Dante Gabriel Rossetti who not only drew and painted her obsessively, but encouraged Lizzie in her own artwork and poetry. Their relationship was intense and rocky, with an engagement that lasted on and off for a decade. Sadly, their marriage was short. The couple suffered a stillborn child and Lizzie was seriously addicted to Laudanum. She died in 1862 due to an overdose. The rest of Lizzie’s tale is eerily famous for its gothic Victorian morbidity: Rossetti, in his grief, buried his only manuscript of his poems with Lizzie. The poems, nestled in her coffin amidst her famous red hair, haunted him. Seven years later, he had her coffin exhumed in order to retrieve the poems for publication. The story was spread that Lizzie was still in beautiful, pristine condition and that her flaming hair had continued to grow after death, filling the coffin. This, of course, is a biological impossibility. Cellular growth does not occur after death, but the tale has added to Lizzie’s legend and continues to capture the interest of Pre-Raphaelite and Lizzie Siddal enthusiasts.
The story of Lizzie’s life is punctuated with dramatic episodes such as falling ill as a result of modeling as Ophelia,, the tales of Rossetti’s dalliances, and her grief at the loss of their stillborn daughter. Our modern society is much more aware and educated than the Victorians regarding mental health issues. Unfortunately for Elizabeth Siddal, she lived in a time where addiction was a taboo subject and little was known about post-partum depression. Lizzie lived within a cycle of illness, addiction and grief with no resources available to her. And although she did have a creative outlet while most women were denied modes of self expression, Lizzie was never able to move beyond the addiction that claimed her life.
Source: website LizzieSiddal.com
fleursdumal.nl magazine
More in: Galerie des Morts, Lizzy Siddal, Siddal, Lizzy
Oscar Wilde
(1854-1900)
The Grave of Keats
(sonnet)
Rid of the world’s injustice, and his pain,
He rests at last beneath God’s veil of blue:
Taken from life when life and love were new
The youngest of the martyrs here is lain,
Fair as Sebastian, and as early slain.
No cypress shades his grave, no funeral yew,
But gentle violets weeping with the dew
Weave on his bones an ever-blossoming chain.
O proudest heart that broke for misery!
O sweetest lips since those of Mitylene!
O poet-painter of our English land!
Thy name was writ in water – it shall stand:
And tears like mine will keep thy memory green,
As Isabella did her Basil tree.
Rome
Oscar Wilde
Het graf van Keats
(sonnet)
In de nieuwe vertaling van Cornelis W. Schoneveld
Van ‘s werelds onrecht en zijn pijn bevrijd,
Rust hij op ‘t laatst onder God’s hemelbaan:
Uit liefde en leven, nieuw nog, heengegaan
Ligt hier de jongste lijder neergevlijd,
Schoon als Sebastiaan, even jong ook dood.
Hier geeft cipres noch taxus schaduw af,
Maar waar viooltjes wenen op zijn graf
Is zijn gebeente nooit van bloei ontbloot.
O hart vol trots dat brak door hoe het leed!
O stem die ‘t zoetst sinds Mytylene’s is!
O schilder-dichter van ons Engeland!
Je schreef je naam in water-hij houdt stand:
En ook mijn traan steunt jouw gedachtenis,
Zoals Isabella’s balsemkruid dat deed.
Rome
VALLEND BLOEMBLAD
Verzameling van 90 korte gedichten van OSCAR WILDE
Vertaald door Cornelis W. Schoneveld
tweetalige uitgave, 2011
ongepubliceerd
fleursdumal.nl nagazine
More in: John Keats, Keats, John, Wilde, Wilde, Oscar
Amy Winehouse new release
Lioness, Hidden Treasures
Just released: a 12 track collection of previously unreleased tracks of Amy Winehouse, alternate versions of existing classics as well as a couple of brand new Amy compositions. It has been compiled by long-time musical partners Salaam Remi and Mark Ronson in close association with Amy’s family, management and record label Island Records. “Lioness : Hidden Treasures” proves a fitting tribute to the artist, the talent and the woman and serves as a reminder of Amy’s extraordinary powers as a songwriter, a singer and an interpreter of classics.
Tracklisting:
1. Our Day Will Come
2. Between The Cheats
3. Tears Dry (Original Version)
4. Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? (2011)
5. Like Smoke Feat. Nas
6. Valerie (’68 Version)
7. Girl From Ipanema
8. Half Time
9. Wake Up Alone (Original Recording)
10. Best Friends, Right?
11. Body And Soul With Tony Bennett
12. A Song For You
Amy Winehouse: Lioness Hidden Treasures album comes with an exclusive poster. £1 of every sale in UK/Eire goes to the Amy Winehouse Foundation, set up in Amy’s memory to support charitable activities that can provide help, support or care for young people, especially those who are in need by reason of ill health, disability, financial disadvantage or addiction.
Amy Winehouse (14 September 1983 – 23 July 2011)
Amy Winehouse released her critically acclaimed debut album, Frank, in 2003, an album that introduced a truly singular talent and earned. the then 20 year-old a nomination for the prestigious Mercury Music Prize. It was however in 2006, with the release of the universally lauded Back to Black, that Amy became widely recognised, by the critics and public alike, as arguably the greatest British artist to emerge in generations. Back To Black received an astonishing six Grammy Award nominations winning five, tying the then record for the most wins by a female artist in a single night. Amy became the first British female to win five Grammys, including three of the “Big Four”: Best New Artist, Record of the Year and Song of the Year.
On 14 February 2007, she won a BRIT Award for Best British Female Artist and was also nominated for Best British Album. She won the Ivor Novello Award three times, one in 2004 for Best Contemporary Song (musically and lyrically) for “Stronger Than Me”, one in 2007 for Best Contemporary Song for “Rehab”, and one in 2008 for Best Song Musically and Lyrically for “Love Is a Losing Game”, among other distinctions. In August 2011 her album Back to Black became the UK’s best selling album of the 21st century.
fleursdumal.nl magazine
More in: Amy Winehouse, Amy Winehouse, Exhibition Archive
Emily Brontë
(1818-1848)
The Night-Wind
In summer’s mellow midnight,
A cloudless moon shone through
Our open parlour window
And rosetrees wet with dew.
I sat in silent musing,
The soft wind waved my hair:
It told me Heaven was glorious.
And sleeping Earth was fair.
I needed not its breathing
To bring such thoughts to me,
But still it whispered lowly,
“How dark the woods will be!
“The thick leaves in my murmur
Are rustling like a dream,
And all their myriad voices
Instinct with spirit seem.”
I said, “Go, gentle singer,
Thy wooing voice is kind,
But do not think its music
Has power to reach my mind.
“Play with the scented flower,
The young tree’s supple bough,
And leave my human feelings
In their own course to flow.”
The wanderer would not leave me;
Its kiss grew warmer still –
“O come,” it sighed so sweetly,
“I’ll win thee ‘gainst thy will.
“Have we not been from childhood friends?
Have I not loved thee long?
As long as thou hast loved the night
Whose silence wakes my song.
“And when thy heart is laid at rest
Beneath the church-yard stone
I shall have time enough to mourn
And thou to be alone.”
1840
Emily Brontë
De nachtwind
In ‘t milde zomer-nachtuur
Scheen ‘t maanlicht helderblauw
Door de openstaande tuindeur
En rozenboom vol dauw.
Ik zat in rust te mijmeren,
Mij roerde zacht de wind:
Hij vond de Hemel roemrijk,
d’ Aard’, slapend, welgezind.
Zijn adem kon ik missen
Voor zo ‘n gedachtenlijn,
Maar toch sprak hij weer zachtjes,
“Het bos zal donker zijn!
“Het loof ritselt als schimmen
Door mijn geruis geraakt,
En al hun stemmen schijnen
Door geesten wijs gemaakt.”
Ik zei, “Ga, goede zanger,
Al klinkt je vlei-lied zoet,
Meen niet dat jouw nocturne
Mijn denken wankelen doet.
“Bespeel geurende bloemen,
Raak jonge twijgen aan,
Maar laat mijn mens-gevoelens
Hun eigen weg inslaan.”
De zwerver wou niet heengaan;
Zijn kus nam toe in gloed –
“O kom,” zuchtte hij zachtjes,
“Ik win je, wat je ook doet.
“Was jij van jongsaf niet mijn vriend?
Mind’ ik je niet allang?
Zo lang je al dol bent op de nacht
Wekt stilte daar mijn zang.
“En als op ‘t kerkhof in je graf
Je hart is neergevleid
Heb ik veel tijd voor rouwbeklag
En jij voor eenzaamheid.”
Vertaling Cornelis W. Schoneveld
Uit: Bestorm mijn hart, de beste Engelse gedichten uit de 16e-19e eeuw gekozen en vertaald door Cornelis W. Schoneveld, tweetalige editie. Rainbow Essentials no. 55, Uitgeverij Maarten Muntinga, Amsterdam, 2008, 296 pp, € 9,95 ISBN: 9789041740588
fleursdumal.nl magazine
More in: Anne, Emily & Charlotte Brontë, Archive A-B, Brontë, Brontë, Anne, Emily & Charlotte
Percy Byssche Shelley
(1792-1822)
To Night
Swiftly walk o’er the western wave,
Spirit of Night!
Out of the misty eastern cave,
Where, all the long and lone daylight,
Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear,
Which make thee terrible and dear, –
Swift be thy flight!
Wrap thy form in a mantle grey,
Star-inwrought!
Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day;
Kiss her until she be wearied out –
Then wander o’er city, and sea, and land,
Touching all with thine opiate wand –
Come, long-sought!
When I arose and saw the dawn,
I sighed for thee;
When light rode high, and the dew was gone,
And noon lay heavy on flower and tree,
And the weary Day turned to his rest,
Lingering like an unloved guest,
I sighed for thee.
Thy brother Death came, and cried,
Wouldst thou me?
Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed,
Murmured like a noontide bee,
Shall I nestle near thy side?
Wouldst thou me? – And I replied,
No, not thee!
Death will come when thou art dead,
Soon, too soon –
Sleep will come when thou art fled;
Of neither would I ask the boon
I ask of thee belovèd Night –
Swift be thine approaching flight,
Come soon, soon!
1821
Percy Byssche Shelley
Aan de nacht
Jaag snel over de westgolf voort,
Geest van de Nacht!
Uit de mistgrot van ‘t oosters oord,
Waar, ‘t daglicht lang, jij eenzaam wacht,
En bange en blije dromen weeft,
Wat angst, en vriendschap, voor je geeft, –
Snel zij je jacht!
Neem ‘n mantel, grijs, met sterbeslag,
Sla hem om!
Blinddoek met j’ haardos eerst de Dag;
Kus haar dan moe, weerom en weerom –
Ga daarna stad, en land, en zeeën af,
‘t Al rakend met je opiumstaf –
Gezochte, kom!
Toen de ochtend gloorde voor mijn oog,
Gold jou mijn zucht;
Toen dauw weg was, en het daglicht hoog,
Toen ‘t groen leed door de middaglucht,
En toen moe de Dag zocht naar zijn rust,
Dralend als ‘n gast, lang weggekust,
Gold jou mijn zucht.
Je broer de Dood kwam, en vroeg,
“Zocht je mij?”
Je zoet kind Slaap, die ‘n oogfloers droeg,
Gonsde als een middagbij:
“Wou jij dat ik naast je sliep?
Zocht je mij?” – Waarop ik riep,
“Weg hier, jij!”
Dood komt na jouw laatste zucht,
Gauw, te gauw –
Slaap komt als jij bent gevlucht;
De gunst die ik nu vraag van jou
Vraag ik hun niet, geliefde Nacht –
Eindig hier gezwind je jacht,
Kom gauw, gauw!
Vertaling Cornelis W. Schoneveld
Uit: Bestorm mijn hart, de beste Engelse gedichten uit de 16e-19e eeuw gekozen en vertaald door Cornelis W. Schoneveld, tweetalige editie. Rainbow Essentials no. 55, Uitgeverij Maarten Muntinga, Amsterdam, 2008, 296 pp, € 9,95 ISBN: 9789041740588
Kempis.nl poetry magazine
More in: Archive S-T, Percy Byssche Shelley, Shelley, Shelley, Percy Byssche
photos anton k.
Amy Winehouse graffiti
Its not the choice that breaks you, its the decision rather you want to be broken.
Amy 1983-2011 R.I.P.
Graffity, Tilburg NL, August 2011
flleursdumal.nl magazine
More in: Amy Winehouse, Amy Winehouse, Graffity, Street Art, Urban Art
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