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Tag: music

“Poem for Piano in C# minor” – Arno Babajanian‏

Corneille - "Music" (1949)

Music (1949)

Corneille

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in the spirit of unusual juxtapositions,
the very stuff, let me suggest, of art,
here’s a Poem for Piano, in C# minor“,
by Arno Babajanian, an Armenian
composer, 1921 to 1983, played by a
countryman of his, Armen Babakhanian

a Poem for Piano begs the question,
what is a poem, can a poem be devoid
of stanzas and words, can music be a
poem

you tell me

Richard

psst: can music, incidentally, be a painting,
see here, or above

“Music”

Gustav Klimt's "Music"

Music (1895)

Gustav Klimt

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not for lack of imagination, lately, but for,
rather, lack of confidence, the complaint
of any would-be poet, the complaint of
any proponent of oneself, one’s persona,
one’s own, however benign, however even
benevolent, ideas, I retreated into myself,
surrendering to forthright inspiration for
any, elusive enough, courage

inspiration, through its usual unsuspected
channels, and as ever categorically, gave
me, reliably, Music“, Klimt‘s ineluctable
masterpiece, not even for its iconic image,
but for its transcendental comment on
art’s interpretive counterpart, music

world’s meld

a “magical mystical miracle” happens, as
Katharine Hepburn, in her utterly
enchanting movie, Summertime“,
would have it, irrepressible as ever

I had to share

Richard

psst: note the juxtaposition of contrasting
colours, patterns, impressions, note
the Baroque presentation of Classical
imperatives, touched with Romantic
sensibilities, kicking off, not
incidentally, Modernism

Brahms piano concerto no 1 in D minor, opus 15‏

this morning as I washed the dishes – nary a butler had 
managed to show, nary a merciful maid – I thought I’d,
as often I do, put on some Classical music, Romantic,
Impressionist, something, to tide me through the tedium  
 
there was a Brahms Piano Concerto no 1 to look into I’d
set aside, his opus 15, in D minor, Emanuel Ax with
Bernard Haitink
 
Emanuel Ax – a man I’ve come to admire above all other
musical giants for his humble roots, Winnipeg trained, and
for the dizzying heights he’s reached in the musical 
firmament, humbly, not so austere, not so patrician as his
European counterparts, and obviously, maybe consequently,
finding joy in, not empire over, the music – does the pianistic
honours
 
Bernard Haitink conducts in perfect synchronicity, leading
the impeccable Chamber Orchestra of Europe, at London’s
Royal Albert Hall, August 18, 2011 
 
 
by the third movement my hands were out of the water,
dry, my undivided attention was riveted, ready to all out 
applaud a thrilling concert, which indeed I did, long, loud, 
and with all my heart
 
you too likely will 
 
 
Richard 
 
 
 
 

drums, revisited

on the subject of drums a friend sent me an interesting
corroborative reply, a drum extravaganza, something
for me to chew on 
 
I wondered what this would be called
 
a symphony, though of even all the same instruments,
by definition would require harmonization of sounds,
but their conformity here precludes that, there are
no sounds, nor even complementary beats, to
harmonize  
 
an orchestra requires more than one instrument, here
there is but one  
 
nor do we have a concerto for having only a single
musical segment, should we allow, for that matter,
for the very term music 
 
I confess, however, that I distinctly hear here a tango
 
therefore music
 
 
a tattoo is an outdoor military pageant, according to
Webster’s dictionary 
 
I would think the actual rhythmic composition could
be called by the same name, a tattoo, written by, if
one were looking for a composer, as when we look
for painters in the art of the Early Middle Ages, no
one known, anonymous for being functional only
rather than arresting as of yet or sufficiently
individually remarkable 
 
will this change 
 
 
Richard
 
psst: thanks Jim for the reference
 
 
 
 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Raphael – The Sistine Madonna

  Raffael 051.jpg                 

                          Sistine Madonna, c.1512-1514

                                         Raphael

                                      (1483-1520)

                             _______________________

                                                                                                                                      in my search for what is beautiful, in my unending, my unyielding quest for the sublime, I’ve come upon many things that ‘ve been awesome, before the Venus de Milo I trembled, stood silent, reverent before her incandescent aura, in consternation before her shimmering grace, marvelled that time alone, I supposed, and magnificence could so irradiate, create actual energy
 
in Dresden the Sistine Madonna did the same, the only other work ever to so palpably illuminate

during the late Beethoven string quartets I cried, especially the fourteenth, but who wouldn’t, they are masterpieces
 
on first looking into Homer I confirmed indeed the promise of Keatsnearly subscribed to the gods of Olympus, would’ve converted to their convincing myths, but Proust finally remains my true religion, the reflection of all I believe, the poet aspiring to be a philosopher, the philosopher aspiring to be a poet, where Truth and Beauty inextricably intermix, interweave and inspire  

for a while I had my doubts, art, music, literature seemed seductive enough, even important, but not urgent, not necessary, there would be life without art, I rued, but hadn’t been able to pursue it further

then in a revelation someone somewhere said, without art there would be no civilization, and I regained forthwith my faith

earnestly I’ve returned to its service

                                                                                                                                     yours in art                                                                                                                                                                    richibi

 

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