Monday, March 23, 2020

Today's ear-worm ... MISALLIANCE by Flanders and Swann

Misalliance Lyrics















The fragrant honeysuckle spirals clockwise to the sun,
And many other creepers do the same.
But some climb anti-clockwise, the bindweed does, for one,
Or Convolvulus, to give her proper name.
Rooted on either side a door, one of each species grew,
And raced towards the window-ledge above.
Each corkscrewed to the lintel in the only way it knew,
Where they stopped, touched tendrils, smiled, and fell in love.

Said the right-handed honeysuckle to the left-handed bindweed,
"Oh, let us get married, if our parents don't mind, we'd
Be loving and inseparable, inextricably entwined, we'd
Live happily ever after" said the honeysuckle to the bindweed.

To the honeysuckle's parents it came as a shock.
"The bindweeds," they cried, "are inferior stock!
They're uncultivated, of breeding bereft,
We twine to the right and they twine to the left."
Said the anti-clockwise bindweed to the clockwise honeysuckle,
"We'd better start saving, many a mickle macks a muckle,
Then run away for a honeymoon and hope that our luck'll
Take a turn for the better" said the bindweed to the honeysuckle.

A bee who was passing remarked to them then,
"I've said it before and I'll say it again,
Consider your offshoots, if offshoots there be,
They'll never receive any blessing from me".
"Poor little sucker, how will it learn,
When it is climbing, which way to turn?
Right, left, what a disgrace,
Or it may go straight up and fall flat on its face!"

Said the right-hand-thread honeysuckle to the left-hand-thread bindweed,
"It seems they're against us, all fate has combined.
Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Colombine,
Thou art lost and gone forever, we shall never intertwine".

Together, they found them, the very next day,
They had pulled up their roots and just shrivelled away.
Deprived of that freedom for which we must fight,
To veer to the left or to veer to the right!

Sunday, March 22, 2020

paradise lost ... illustrations by william blake, but not his first attempt ... this set commissioned by his friend thomas butts in 1808 ... nine are held in boston ... one in the huntington library ... another is in the V&A ... if i can find decent images of all then i'll try to put them in blake's order at a later date ... perhaps when i've finished reading milton's original
























Christ accepting the Office of Redeemer (Book 3, l. 227). Satan floats below God and his angels, with a spear in his hand.


https://www.bl.uk/collection-items/william-blakes-illustrations-for-paradise-lost-1808#
























“Satan watching the Endearments of Adam and Eve” 20 × 15 1/16 (50.7 × 38.2)



























Adam and Eve Sleeping (Book 4, l. 798). The angels Ithuriel and Zephon hover above them. 



























vi“Raphael warns Adam and Eve” 19 9/16 × 15 5/8 (49.7 × 39.7)


























vii“The Rout of the Rebel Angels” 19 5/16 × 15 1/16 (49.1 × 38.2)



























viii“The Creation of Eve” 19 11/16 × 15 3/4 (49.9 × 40)



























ix“The Temptation and Fall of Eve” 19 5/8 × 15 1/4 (49.7 × 38.7)



























xi“Michael foretelling the Crucifixion” 19 3/4 × 15 (50.1 × 38.1)


























xii“The Expulsion of Adam and Eve” 19 11/16 × 15 1/4 (50 × 38.8)



the huntington's butts
























ii“Satan, Sin and Death” 19 1/2 × 15 7/8 (49.5 × 40.3)



the V&A's butts
























i“Satan arousing the Rebel Angels” 20 3/8 × 15 1/2 (51.8 × 39.3)






also ... was there a twelfth illustration ?

the judgement ...

right date, right style and format

currently looking for a larger image



























http://bq.blakearchive.org/6.2.butlin


















later still, found that wikipedia carries a very useful article ...

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Blake%27s_illustrations_of_Paradise_Lost




Friday, March 20, 2020

Friday, March 13, 2020

irving penn ... one of the gods of 20th century photography
























https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Irving_Penn

https://www.latimes.com/entertainment/arts/la-me-irving-penn8-2009oct08-story.html

http://www.aaulens.com/ph-692/2017/9/18/irving-penn-and-platinum-printing



his marvellous missus ...
























https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lisa_Fonssagrives



a point-of-view appreciation by tom zimberoff  ...
































Last February, I was happy to discover a seasonal encomium published in The New Yorker for a portrait by Irving Penn (1917 - 2009).
In the “Photo Booth” section of the magazine, writer Rachel Symes marked the onset of frigid winter weather by citing her perennial touchstone: Penn’s depiction of a giant man, “swaddled in a colossal polar-bear coat, and [his wife] so tiny, in her pert black suit and pearls.” I encourage you to read her beautifully evocative writing. But halfway into the first paragraph, she pushed my curmudgeon button with the word snapshot she used to describe the photograph. I had to scold her.
Maybe she was thinking of a “snapshot in time,” given the sitters’ dated getup. Still, to call such a deliberately executed photograph a snapshot — indeed, a work of art by one of portraiture’s greatest exponents — was insensitive. A snapshot is, unambiguously, a perfunctory expression of photographic technology with little regard for the inherent value of the photograph itself, other than sentimentality. And a vintage snapshot at that! Does one appreciate a Vermeer because it’s old? Besides, vintage means something specific contextually to photographers and collectors; and it doesn’t necessarily imply age. It refers to prints created contemporaneously, or nearly so, with their corresponding negatives. Sure, it’s more likely that prints made from film are of an age. But I digress. The article went on to say, “Penn used the same austere style for all his subjects, shooting them with a bank of lights …”
Actually, Penn used natural light for this and virtually all his studio portraits; a window, a skylight actually, whose grimy and north-facing panes could neither incandesce nor flash as implied by the writer’s use of the phrase “bank of lights.” And far from being austere, Penn’s light was soft. It came from the north, to avoid the east-to-west transit and direct glare of the sun. Picture a painter’s atelier in your mind’s eye. Penn did. He used this “northlight” to caress his subjects (very much like Vermeer or Rembrandt), and to emphasize shapes and contrast by exploiting shadow where light was absent. This technique, together with a plain backdrop to isolate his subjects, and an almost gratuitous but genius inclusion of scratchy bolts of canvas, defined a sui generis motif.
Penn’s compositions were austere (if not his lighting), but in a minimalist sense. His subjects wore sober expressions and posed with meticulously arranged but spare props and wardrobe (sometimes street garb, sometimes couture, sometimes nothing at all), surrounded by empty space within a two-dimensional frame. Their postures suggest an almost architectural sensibility. Penn conceived portraiture as the still-life of living beings; and his actual still-life studies of cosmetics, foodstuffs, and close-up studies of detritus found in the street appear, to me, as portraits of inanimate things.














Iwish writers without firsthand experience practicing photography, no matter how much they admire it, would not try to deconstruct it. This happens often; particularly because few people under the age of forty have seen an actual photograph, having gotten used to seeing images: the simulacra of photographs on screens, on pages in print, and, of course, glossy snapshots. It’s rare to see a matted, mounted, signed, luminous, exquisitely textured, museum-quality photograph sized to scale, whether hanging on a wall under glass in a frame or otherwise.




persons ...








































































in peru ...


























































































colour still life, 1947 ...

























still life, 1977 ...


























cornered portraits ...

















































































































dancers and co ...




















































































haute couture ...








































































































































platinum prints ? ... memento mori ?

https://youtu.be/PxFlLyNRM0w








































































































flowers and fruit, whatever ...






















































































and irving penn quite definitely had a sense of humour ...









































the MET in New York have a huge collection of Penn's work

you can skim through the catalogue online to get some idea of the scope of his career and interests ...

https://www.metmuseum.org/search-results#!/search?q=irving%20penn&orderByCountDesc=true&page=1&searchFacet=All%20Results