jóias de família

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O Tempo Passa, Meu Amor

O tempo passa e as memórias do amor
Regressam até mim, caríssima, não mais trocistas
Do que foram sempre; o tempo passa, nem mais lento,
Nem mais rápido, inabalável; e já não
Amargas, meu amor, as memórias do amor
Vindo dar à costa.

Como irá findar? O tempo passa e do amor as nossas travessias
Como sempre, meu amor, cegas
Como sempre foram; o tempo enlaça, desenlaça
Em redor de nós; e contudo a lembrança
Nunca menos cruel, nem a chama do amor
Menos como uma brasa.

Que será de nós? O tempo
Passa, meu amor, e nós numa cerrada
Segurança inexpugnável
À memória. Como pode findar,
Este cerco de uma costa que nenhuns receios aceraram,
Nenhumas dúvidas defendem?

"Ante el público, alguien es un poeta si escribió un buen poema. Ante sus propios ojos, un poeta sólo lo es cuando está corrigiendo la última versión de un nuevo poema. Antes de eso sólo era un poeta en potencia; después es alguien que dejó de escribir poesía, tal vez para siempre."

Classificados em DESTAK

esta posta da Cristina na edição de ontem desta publicação diária. Será que vai receber uma proposta da MC?

Giacinto Scelsi *


"Giacinto Scelsi was born as the Conte de Ayala Valva in La Spezia, Italy, on January 8, 1905. After studying harmony and composition under Sallustio in Rome and then briefly receiving instruction in composition from Walther Klein in Vienna in 1935/36 and some guidance from Egon Kohler in Geneva during the early 1930s, Scelsi led an independent existence, usually outside of Italy (Paris, London Switzerland), until 1952. During these years he circulated in the society of Pierre Jean Jouve, Paul Eluard, Salvador Dali, and Henri Michaux (a lifelong friend) in Paris, composed works in various styles (influenced initially by bruitism and neoclassicism, then by Scriabin's thought and from 1936 on by dodecaphony), and undertook extended trips to Africa and Asia.

During the late 1940s he went through a mental and physical crisis and ended up having to stay in a clinic for quite some time. He himself later traced his illness back to his work with traditional compositional techniques in particular to twelve tone technique, and his recovery to an occupation of his at the piano: for hours on end he would strike a single note and let it fade away.
After this crisis and period in which he ceased to compose, Scelsi returned to Rome for good in 1952. (...)

(...) The discovery that tone (or sound) has a third, previously neglected dimension was very significant for him: "Tone (sound) is also spherical, even when one believes while hearing that it has only two dimensions, pitch and duration. We know that the third, depth, exists, but it eludes us in a certain way." Scelsi also wrote that "I would say only very generally that classical Western music has devoted practically all its attention to the musical frame, to the so-called musical form. It has forgotten to study the laws of sound and energy, to comprehend music as energy or as life... The melodies themselves go from tone to tone, but the intervals are empty abysses because the tones are lacking in sound energy. The inner space is empty." [Giacinto Scelsi. Son et musique. Rome and Venice, 1981, pp.3, 6-7]."

Mais informação em Classical Net

Link para a página da foto: Classical-Composers

eu ainda não sei, por vezes sinto-me cansado e fico com tendencia para parar de ouvir, de falar, de ver...um pouco....até entrar no vazio, enquanto espero, que tudo recomece...

não vou!

aguasfurtadas #8
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• Affonso Romano de Sant'Anna;
• Margarida Ferra;
• João Luís Barreto Guimarães;
• Tradução inédita de "The Book of Ahania", de William Blake, da responsabilidade de Manuel Portela;
• Primeiras traduções para português da poeta iraniana Forugh Farrokhzad e do poeta de língua ladina Moshe Ha-Elion;
• Contos de Paulinho Assunção, Valério Romão, António Tavares Lopes e a estreia de Lourenço Bray;
• Uma peça de teatro inédita de Regina Guimarães e Saguenail;
• Ensaio de Jorge Mantas sobre Marcel Proust;

e ainda um CD com obras de compositores portugueses contemporâneos e as primeiras gravações da rúbrica "Ostra" (Antena 2), de Pedro Coelho.

No texto da folha de Serralves sobre o filme de Robert Bresson, Le Diable Probablement, João Bénard da Costa termina citando Jorge de Sena, "nada mais existe, nada mais tem importância/ para quem viu a treva nos intervalos das coisas".

Lembrei-me que a Cinemateca tinha reunido em livro os textos Sobre Cinema que Jorge de Sena escreveu e fui ver à estante se ainda tinha o livro e aproveitar para o reler, (fica sempre bem ter uma boa desculpa para um regresso...)

O livro foi publicado em 88 e reune os textos escritos entre 1946 e 1966, o Bresson não passa por lá, mas encontrei a lista onde Jorge de Sena, em 1968, indicou os dez filmes que levaria consigo para uma ilha deserta (!?), que era a seguinte:

• Citizen Kane, de Orson Welles;
• Les Enfants du Paradis, de Marcel Carné;
• Limelight, de Charlie Chaplin;
• The Quiet Man, de John Ford;
• Umberto D, de Vittorio de Sica;
• Rocco i sui Fratelli, de Luchino Visconti;
• Otto e Mezzo, de Federico Fellini;
• Zorba The Greek, de Michael Cacoyannis;
• Blow up, de Michelangelo Antonioni;
• Persona, de Ingmar Bergman.

Antígona

Sai do escuro e caminha
À nossa frente algum tempo
Amigável, com o passo leve
Da bem decidida, terrível
Aos terríveis.

Tu que te voltas, eu sei
Como temias a morte, mas
Mais temias ainda
Vida indigna.

E não passaste por nada
Aos poderosos, nem te igualaste
Aos enredadores, nem jamais
esqueceste insulto e sobre o seu crime
Não lhes cresceu erva.

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"How players respond to pressure determines the standard they reach even more than their talent. Borg and McEnroe responded in different ways. McEnroe, cursed with inexplicable skill that obliged him to grapple with equally powerful egos in front of thousands of spectators, externalised the pressure he felt, to a histrionic degree.
He was a character from one of John Cassavetes's emotional movies, a mess of a human being, his rants a way to authenticity. 'I believe in the validity of a person's inner desires,' Cassavetes said. 'And those inner desires, whether ugly or beautiful, are pertinent to each of us and are probably the only things worth a damn.'

The Swede, on the other hand, was like one of the actors, or 'human models', in Robert Bresson's austere, spiritual films: 'The thing that matters is not what they show me but what they hide from me and, above all, what they do not suspect is in them ... It is the flattest and dullest parts that have in the end the most life.' To McEnroe's complexity, Borg offered depth. (...)

(...) 'Freed from self,' wrote the 14th-century mystic Meister Eckhart, 'you are self self-possessed. And as you are self-possessed you possess God and all creation.'

'It should be joy,' Borg has said, explaining his retirement. 'It should be in the heart.'

If it is given to certain athletes to move between normal consciousness and a state of grace, then what do they do, what can they hope for, once their bodies let them down from Olympian heights? The saint may be ready to dissolve his body into the essence of the elements and enter the Body of Light. It's not so easy for the accidental mystic.

Some, perhaps, are destined to follow the path of an Augustine or Siddhartha, of dissolution before enlightenment, but in reverse."

Tim Pears
Guardian Unlimited © Guardian Newspapers Limited 2005

A googlar... uma pérola do jornalismo desportivo...

Charles : Ce qui est magnifique c'est que pour rassurer les gens il suffit de nier l'évidence.
Michel : Quelle évidence ? On est en plein surnaturel, rien n'est visible. Les gouvernements ont la vue courte.
Passager n°1 : N'accusez pas les gouvernements ! Dans le monde entier, à l'heure actuelle, personne ne peut se venter de gouverner. Ce sont les masses qui régissent les évènements ; des forces obscures dont il parfaitement impossible de connaître les lois.
Passagère n°2 : C'est vrai que quelque chose nous pousse contre ce que nous sommes.
Passager ° 3 : Il faut marcher, marcher.
Passager n°4 : En marchant, je peux être celui qui rouspète toujours ? (phrase assez indistincte)
Passagère n°2 : Qui est-ce donc qui s'amuse à tourner l'humanité en dérision ? Oui, qui est-ce qui nous manœuvre en douce ?
Passager n°1 : Le diable probablement.

"What I am looking for, it's not really the expression through gesture, words, mimics, but expression through rhythm and a combination of images, through their position, their relation and their amount. Before anything else, the purpose of an image must be the exchange. But for that exchange to be possible, it is necessary that these images have something in common, that they participate together in a sort of union. [...]"

"[...] Yes, for me, the image is like a word in a sentence. Poets elaborate a vocabulary. They willingly use desperately common words. And it's the most common word, the most used, which, because it's in its right place, all of a sudden shines extraordinarily."

Robert Bresson

A oportunidade de ver um dos maiores mestres do cinema e não só... no Auditório de Serralves,
dia 13 às 21h30.

Com razão ou talvez sem ela... quando penso nos filmes do Bresson, acabo por ter que me debater com Eckhart...

Quando todos deixarmos de fumar, que será feito dos cinzeiros, os mais fieis depositários de milhares de milhões de universais pensamentos.....
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"(...)I believe that you are sincere and good at heart. If you do not attain happiness, always remember that you are on the right road, and try not to leave it. Above all, avoid falsehood, every kind of falsehood, especially falseness to yourself. Watch over your own deceitfulness and look into it every hour, every minute. Avoid being scornful, both to others and to yourself. What seems to you bad within you will grow purer from the very fact of your observing it in yourself. Avoid fear, too, though fear is only the consequence of every sort of falsehood. Never be frightened at your own faint-heartedness in attaining love. Don't be frightened overmuch even at your evil actions. I am sorry I can say nothing more consoling to you, for love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared with love in dreams. Love in dreams is greedy for immediate action, rapidly performed and in the sight of all. Men will even give their lives if only the ordeal does not last long but is soon over, with all looking on and applauding as though on the stage. But active love is labour and fortitude (...)"