Poinciana-(Ahmad Jamal)
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Saturday, January 2, 2010
Literary Pick (**** 1/2)
A Tree Grows In Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
Francie Nolan, avid reader, penny-candy connoisseur, and adroit observer of human nature, has much to ponder in colorful, turn-of-the-century Brooklyn. She grows up with a sweet, tragic father, a severely realistic mother, and an aunt who gives her love too freely--to men, and to a brother who will always be the favored child. Francie learns early the meaning of hunger and the value of a penny. She is her father's child--romantic and hungry for beauty. But she is her mother's child, too--deeply practical and in constant need of truth. Like the Tree of Heaven that grows out of cement or through cellar gratings, resourceful Francie struggles against all odds to survive and thrive. Betty Smith's poignant, honest novel created a big stir when it was first published over 50 years ago. Her frank writing about life's squalor was alarming to some of the more genteel society, but the book's humor and pathos ensured its place in the realm of classics--and in the hearts of readers, young and old.
--Emilie Coulter
Francie Nolan, avid reader, penny-candy connoisseur, and adroit observer of human nature, has much to ponder in colorful, turn-of-the-century Brooklyn. She grows up with a sweet, tragic father, a severely realistic mother, and an aunt who gives her love too freely--to men, and to a brother who will always be the favored child. Francie learns early the meaning of hunger and the value of a penny. She is her father's child--romantic and hungry for beauty. But she is her mother's child, too--deeply practical and in constant need of truth. Like the Tree of Heaven that grows out of cement or through cellar gratings, resourceful Francie struggles against all odds to survive and thrive. Betty Smith's poignant, honest novel created a big stir when it was first published over 50 years ago. Her frank writing about life's squalor was alarming to some of the more genteel society, but the book's humor and pathos ensured its place in the realm of classics--and in the hearts of readers, young and old.
--Emilie Coulter
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Cultural News
Why Van Gogh cut his ear: new clue Still-life painting depicts letter with news of his brother's engagement
An envelope depicted in a Van Gogh painting provides a clue that could help to explain why the artist slashed his ear. The envelope, in Still Life: Drawing Board with Onions, 1889, is addressed to Vincent from his brother Theo. Until now, no one has considered whether the artist was illustrating a specific letter. The letter in the painting probably arrived in Arles on 23 December 1888, the fateful day when Vincent mutilated his ear in the late evening. It almost certainly contained news that Theo had fallen in love with Johanna (Jo) Bonger, and Vincent was fearful that he might lose his brother’s emotional and financial support. In the still-life, the handwriting on the envelope is clearly Theo’s, and the letter is addressed to Vincent in Arles. Although the postmarks lack a legible date, one contains the number “67”, enclosed in a circle. This was used by the post office in Place des Abbesses, close to Theo’s Montmartre apartment. The postmark directly over the two postage stamps reads “Jour de l’An” (New Year’s Day). This was spotted by Dutch specialists working on the new edition of Van Gogh’s letters, which was published in October. They concluded that the letter had been posted during “the busy period around New Year” and it had possibly arrived on 23 December, the date Vincent received his 100 francs financial allowance from Theo by post. The letter was probably posted the day before from Paris. The established view is that Vincent did not learn of Theo’s engagement until after he mutilated his ear, but our research suggests that news of the love affair reached him on 23 December. Theo and Jo had met (for a second time, after a long break) in Paris in mid-December and decided to marry just a few days later. On 21 December Theo wrote to his mother, asking for permission. His brother must surely have been among the next to know. It seems Vincent already knew of the impending engagement when Theo visited him in hospital on Christmas Day. In a recently published letter, Theo wrote to his fiancée about the brief hospital visit: “When I mentioned you to him he evidently knew who and what I meant and when I asked whether he approved of our plans, he said yes, but that marriage ought not to be regarded as the main object in life.” On Christmas Day Vincent was suffering from a life-threatening wound and was in considerable mental distress, so it seems unlikely that Theo would have broken the news about his engagement. Although it was briefly discussed, this was presumably because Vincent had already known. Still Life: Drawing Board with Onions was painted just a few days after Vincent returned to the Yellow House on 7 January 1889. News of the love affair could well have been a trigger for the self-mutilation, although there was probably no one simple explanation for the incident and there were also serious tensions with Gauguin. Vincent may have feared (wrongly) that he would lose the support of Theo. For years, Theo had provided money and friendship. Vincent’s feelings must have been complex, and by January 1889 he may well have become reconciled to the engagement, following reassurances from his brother. The very fact that he included the envelope in the still-life suggests a message of hope. Although it is speculation, the postmark on the envelope might represent a coded message that the strong links between the two brothers would survive. The Musée de La Poste in Paris told us that although “Jour de l’An” postmarks were widely used in the run-up to Christmas and New Year in the 1880s, most are fairly small marks, rather than the more prominent words inscribed by Van Gogh. This suggests that the personalised postmark may have been Vincent’s way of stressing to Theo that the letter depicted was a very particular one—and that he wished his brother well for the new year. The painting, on loan from the Kröller-Müller Museum in Otterlo, will form the centrepiece of “The Real Van Gogh: the Artist and his Letters”, opening at London’s Royal Academy on 23 January. -TAN
An envelope depicted in a Van Gogh painting provides a clue that could help to explain why the artist slashed his ear. The envelope, in Still Life: Drawing Board with Onions, 1889, is addressed to Vincent from his brother Theo. Until now, no one has considered whether the artist was illustrating a specific letter. The letter in the painting probably arrived in Arles on 23 December 1888, the fateful day when Vincent mutilated his ear in the late evening. It almost certainly contained news that Theo had fallen in love with Johanna (Jo) Bonger, and Vincent was fearful that he might lose his brother’s emotional and financial support. In the still-life, the handwriting on the envelope is clearly Theo’s, and the letter is addressed to Vincent in Arles. Although the postmarks lack a legible date, one contains the number “67”, enclosed in a circle. This was used by the post office in Place des Abbesses, close to Theo’s Montmartre apartment. The postmark directly over the two postage stamps reads “Jour de l’An” (New Year’s Day). This was spotted by Dutch specialists working on the new edition of Van Gogh’s letters, which was published in October. They concluded that the letter had been posted during “the busy period around New Year” and it had possibly arrived on 23 December, the date Vincent received his 100 francs financial allowance from Theo by post. The letter was probably posted the day before from Paris. The established view is that Vincent did not learn of Theo’s engagement until after he mutilated his ear, but our research suggests that news of the love affair reached him on 23 December. Theo and Jo had met (for a second time, after a long break) in Paris in mid-December and decided to marry just a few days later. On 21 December Theo wrote to his mother, asking for permission. His brother must surely have been among the next to know. It seems Vincent already knew of the impending engagement when Theo visited him in hospital on Christmas Day. In a recently published letter, Theo wrote to his fiancée about the brief hospital visit: “When I mentioned you to him he evidently knew who and what I meant and when I asked whether he approved of our plans, he said yes, but that marriage ought not to be regarded as the main object in life.” On Christmas Day Vincent was suffering from a life-threatening wound and was in considerable mental distress, so it seems unlikely that Theo would have broken the news about his engagement. Although it was briefly discussed, this was presumably because Vincent had already known. Still Life: Drawing Board with Onions was painted just a few days after Vincent returned to the Yellow House on 7 January 1889. News of the love affair could well have been a trigger for the self-mutilation, although there was probably no one simple explanation for the incident and there were also serious tensions with Gauguin. Vincent may have feared (wrongly) that he would lose the support of Theo. For years, Theo had provided money and friendship. Vincent’s feelings must have been complex, and by January 1889 he may well have become reconciled to the engagement, following reassurances from his brother. The very fact that he included the envelope in the still-life suggests a message of hope. Although it is speculation, the postmark on the envelope might represent a coded message that the strong links between the two brothers would survive. The Musée de La Poste in Paris told us that although “Jour de l’An” postmarks were widely used in the run-up to Christmas and New Year in the 1880s, most are fairly small marks, rather than the more prominent words inscribed by Van Gogh. This suggests that the personalised postmark may have been Vincent’s way of stressing to Theo that the letter depicted was a very particular one—and that he wished his brother well for the new year. The painting, on loan from the Kröller-Müller Museum in Otterlo, will form the centrepiece of “The Real Van Gogh: the Artist and his Letters”, opening at London’s Royal Academy on 23 January. -TAN
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Monday, December 28, 2009
Honor Spotlight
Yoko Ono
Yoko Ono is one of the most famous widows in the world. Her name is synonymous with the Beatles and John Lennon. She began making films in the 1960's and made substantial contributions to the avant garde genre of film. When Yoko Ono began this part of her life, she was already an established artist playing an active role in the world of music, most well known by her "primal scream" or high pitched wails. In the early 1960's, Ono became part of a group known as Fluxus, whose artists were "dedicated to challenging conventional definitions in the fine arts, and conventional relationships between artwork and viewer." The artwork that Yoko made in the early 1960's required the viewer to complete the process. "Painting to See a Room Through," made in 1961, was a canvas with an almost invisible hole through which the viewer could see the room. "Painting to Hammer a Nail In," also made in 1961, was a white wood panel that the audience hammered a nail into with an attached hammer. In the mid 1960's Yoko began to write mini film scripts. She contributed three films to the Fluxfilm Program in 1966. Two of these films, Eyeblink and Match, are one shot films shot at 2000 frames per second. She also included No. 4, or Bottoms, in her contribution. Yoko continued to make films through the early 1970's, many of which she collaborated with her husband, John Lennon. Her films can be divided into themes. The first of which, like bottoms, consists of close examination of the naked human body. The second category are theoretical films. They have a theme of movement and change. The last category are documentaries. Bed-In made in 1969, is the filming of the peace event Ono and Lennon staged on their honeymoon. Yoko Ono can be viewed as a radical artist, someone who requires an open mind in order to have her work appreciated. She stretches the limits of what society views as acceptable and never ceases to create an opportunity for the viewer to step back and reflect.
--Shahbeila Bateman
Yoko Ono is one of the most famous widows in the world. Her name is synonymous with the Beatles and John Lennon. She began making films in the 1960's and made substantial contributions to the avant garde genre of film. When Yoko Ono began this part of her life, she was already an established artist playing an active role in the world of music, most well known by her "primal scream" or high pitched wails. In the early 1960's, Ono became part of a group known as Fluxus, whose artists were "dedicated to challenging conventional definitions in the fine arts, and conventional relationships between artwork and viewer." The artwork that Yoko made in the early 1960's required the viewer to complete the process. "Painting to See a Room Through," made in 1961, was a canvas with an almost invisible hole through which the viewer could see the room. "Painting to Hammer a Nail In," also made in 1961, was a white wood panel that the audience hammered a nail into with an attached hammer. In the mid 1960's Yoko began to write mini film scripts. She contributed three films to the Fluxfilm Program in 1966. Two of these films, Eyeblink and Match, are one shot films shot at 2000 frames per second. She also included No. 4, or Bottoms, in her contribution. Yoko continued to make films through the early 1970's, many of which she collaborated with her husband, John Lennon. Her films can be divided into themes. The first of which, like bottoms, consists of close examination of the naked human body. The second category are theoretical films. They have a theme of movement and change. The last category are documentaries. Bed-In made in 1969, is the filming of the peace event Ono and Lennon staged on their honeymoon. Yoko Ono can be viewed as a radical artist, someone who requires an open mind in order to have her work appreciated. She stretches the limits of what society views as acceptable and never ceases to create an opportunity for the viewer to step back and reflect.
--Shahbeila Bateman
Reading of the Day
Preparation for Death
St. Alphonsus Liguori XXVI (1758)
What is this inferno? It is the place of torment[...]And the more someone has offended God in some way, the more torments he will suffer [...]The sense of smell will be tormented. What punishment would it be to find oneself closed in a room with a rotten corpse [...] The damned must reside amidst many millions of other damned souls, alive for the punishment, but cadavers for the stench they give off [...] They will suffer all the more (I say) for their stench, for the screaming, for the crowds, because in hell, they will be one on top of the other, like sheep crowded together in winter time [...] from this then will come the punishment of immobility [...]since the damned soul will then fall into hell on the last day, so he will have to remain, without ever changing it's place and without being able to move his foot, or his hand, as long as God is God.
His hearing will be tormented with the continuous cries of those poor desperate souls. The demons will clamour continuously[...]what punishment is it when one wants to sleep and one hears an invalid who complains continuously, a dog barking, a little child crying?
Wretched damned, who must hear the noise and cries of those tormented constantly and for all eternity! the throat will be tormented with hunger, the damned will be hungry as wolves [...] but he will never have so much as a crumb of bread. He will feel such thirst, that not even all the water in the sea would be enough to slake it, but he will not have so much as a drop; the glutton ask for a drop, but he hasn't had it yet, and he never, will [...]
The punishment that most torments the senses of the damned is the fire of hell, which torments the torch [...] in this land punishment by fire is the worst of all, but there is a great deal of difference between our fire and that of hell, which St. Augustine has said makes ours seem as if painted [...] therefore the wretched will be surrounded by fire, like wood inside a furnace. The damned soul will find himself within an abyss of fire below, an abyss above, an abyss all around him. If he touches, sees, breathes, he does not touch, see or breath anything but fire. He will exist in fire like a fish in water. But this fire will not only surround the damned, it will enter into his guts to torment him from within. His body will become entirely made of fire, so that his guts will burn inside his stomach, his heart inside his chest, his brain inside his scull, his blood inside his veins, even his bone marrow inside his bones; each damn soul will become a furnace of fire [...] If hell were not eternal, it would not be hell. The punishment that does not last for long, is not much of a punishment. On an infirm man you may lance an abscess, on another gangrene breaks out; the pain is great, but because it ends quickly it's no great torment. But what punishment would it be, if that cut or that operation with fire continued for a week, for an entire month? When the punishment is very long, even when it is light, like discomfort in the eyes, or the pain of a great weight, it becomes unbearable. But why stop at pain? Even a play or music that lasts too long, or continues for an entire day, would be unbearably tedious. And what if it lasted a month? or a year? What would hell be like? It is not the place where one watches the same play, or hears the same music; there is not only a discomfort in the eyes, or a great weight; one does not feel merely the torment of a cut, or a hot iron, but rather all the torments, all the pain, and for how long? for all of eternity[...]
[...]death in this life is the thing most feared by sinners, but in hell it will become the most desired[...] and how long will their misery last? for ever and ever [...], the damned will ask the demons; where is the night [...] where does it end? Where do these shadows lift, where do these cries, this stench, these flames, these torments end? And they will answer; 'Never, Never.' And how long will it last? 'for ever and ever'.
-quoted from "On Ugliness" by Umberto Eco
St. Alphonsus Liguori XXVI (1758)
What is this inferno? It is the place of torment[...]And the more someone has offended God in some way, the more torments he will suffer [...]The sense of smell will be tormented. What punishment would it be to find oneself closed in a room with a rotten corpse [...] The damned must reside amidst many millions of other damned souls, alive for the punishment, but cadavers for the stench they give off [...] They will suffer all the more (I say) for their stench, for the screaming, for the crowds, because in hell, they will be one on top of the other, like sheep crowded together in winter time [...] from this then will come the punishment of immobility [...]since the damned soul will then fall into hell on the last day, so he will have to remain, without ever changing it's place and without being able to move his foot, or his hand, as long as God is God.
His hearing will be tormented with the continuous cries of those poor desperate souls. The demons will clamour continuously[...]what punishment is it when one wants to sleep and one hears an invalid who complains continuously, a dog barking, a little child crying?
Wretched damned, who must hear the noise and cries of those tormented constantly and for all eternity! the throat will be tormented with hunger, the damned will be hungry as wolves [...] but he will never have so much as a crumb of bread. He will feel such thirst, that not even all the water in the sea would be enough to slake it, but he will not have so much as a drop; the glutton ask for a drop, but he hasn't had it yet, and he never, will [...]
The punishment that most torments the senses of the damned is the fire of hell, which torments the torch [...] in this land punishment by fire is the worst of all, but there is a great deal of difference between our fire and that of hell, which St. Augustine has said makes ours seem as if painted [...] therefore the wretched will be surrounded by fire, like wood inside a furnace. The damned soul will find himself within an abyss of fire below, an abyss above, an abyss all around him. If he touches, sees, breathes, he does not touch, see or breath anything but fire. He will exist in fire like a fish in water. But this fire will not only surround the damned, it will enter into his guts to torment him from within. His body will become entirely made of fire, so that his guts will burn inside his stomach, his heart inside his chest, his brain inside his scull, his blood inside his veins, even his bone marrow inside his bones; each damn soul will become a furnace of fire [...] If hell were not eternal, it would not be hell. The punishment that does not last for long, is not much of a punishment. On an infirm man you may lance an abscess, on another gangrene breaks out; the pain is great, but because it ends quickly it's no great torment. But what punishment would it be, if that cut or that operation with fire continued for a week, for an entire month? When the punishment is very long, even when it is light, like discomfort in the eyes, or the pain of a great weight, it becomes unbearable. But why stop at pain? Even a play or music that lasts too long, or continues for an entire day, would be unbearably tedious. And what if it lasted a month? or a year? What would hell be like? It is not the place where one watches the same play, or hears the same music; there is not only a discomfort in the eyes, or a great weight; one does not feel merely the torment of a cut, or a hot iron, but rather all the torments, all the pain, and for how long? for all of eternity[...]
[...]death in this life is the thing most feared by sinners, but in hell it will become the most desired[...] and how long will their misery last? for ever and ever [...], the damned will ask the demons; where is the night [...] where does it end? Where do these shadows lift, where do these cries, this stench, these flames, these torments end? And they will answer; 'Never, Never.' And how long will it last? 'for ever and ever'.
-quoted from "On Ugliness" by Umberto Eco
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