Rilke, from "Auguste Rodin"
“Things were made very early, with difficulty, after the pattern of natural things already existing; utensils and vessels were made, and it must have been a strange experience to see the made object as a recognized existence, with the same rights and the same reality as the thing already there. Something came into existence blindly, through the fierce throes of work, bearing upon it the marks of exposed and threatened life, still warm with it—but no sooner was it finished and put aside than it took its place amongst the other things, assumed their indifference, their quiet dignity, and looked on, as it were, from a distance and from out its own permanence with melancholy consent.
This experience was so remarkable and so great that we can understand how things soon came to be made solely for its sake. For the earliest images were possibly nothing but practical applications of this experience, attempts to form out of the visible human and animal world something immortal and permanent, belonging to an order immediately above that world: a thing.”
Robert Therrien - No title (angel on yellow) - 2017
Vincenco Carcavallo - Napoli, Teatro San Carlo
Marc Chagall - "The Heart of the Circus" (1967)
Milind Kulkarni - "Raag Shuddhasarang"
All praise to WPRB and the Sangeet show
Steven Shearer - "Teresa's Trip" (2024)
Anibal Carracci - The Virgin and Child with the Infant Saint John the Baptist (1599)
On Madame Psychosis, From "Infinite Jest" - David Foster Wallace
“She’s mostly alone in there when she’s on-air. Every so often there’s a guest, but the guest will usually get introduced and then not say anything. The monologues seem both free-associative and intricately structured, not unlike nightmares. There’s no telling what’ll be up on a given night. If there’s one even remotely consistent theme it’s maybe film and film-cartridges. Early and (mostly Italian) neorealist and (mostly German) expressionist celluloid film. Never New Wave. Thumbs-up on Peterson/Broughton and Dali/Bunuel and -down on Deren/Hammid. Passionate about Antonioni’s slower stuff and some Russian guy named Tarkovsky. Sometimes Ozu and Bresson. Odd affection for the hoary dramaturgy of one Sir Herbert Tree. Bizarre Kaelesque admiration for goremeisters Peckinpah, De Palma, Tarantino. Positively poisonous on the subject of Fellini’s 8 1/2. Exceptionally conversant w/r/t avant-garde celluloid and avant- and apres-garde digital cartridges, anticonfluential cinema, Brutalism, Found Drama, etc. Also highly literate on U.S. sports, football in particular, which fact the student engineer finds dissonant. Madame takes one phone call per show, at random. Mostly she solos. The show kind of flies itself. She could do it in her sleep, behind the screen. Sometimes she seems very sad.”
Lynn Geesaman - "Topiary Garden, Longwood Gardens, Kennett Square, Pennsylvania, 1984"
The Allman Brothers Band - "You Don't Love Me" (Live from Fillmore East, 1971)
Noah Davis - 1975, nos. 8 and 9
William Eggleston - Untitled (Graceland)
Jessica Scicchitano, from "*"
“Our bodies are holy
and not separate.”
The karate bows in "Boogie Nights" & "One Battle After Another"
Marguerite Yourcenar, from "Memoirs of Hadrian"
“I have so often lost sight of Lucius, then found him anew in the course of the years which followed, that perhaps I retain an image of him which is made up of memories superimposed, a composite which corresponds to no one phase of his brief existence.”
Sonia Gechtoff - "Flight" (1998)
Johannes Vermeer - Girl Reading a Letter at an Open Window (1659)
Felix Edouard Vallotton - Two Paintings
Interior with Woman in Red, 1903
The Red Room, Etretat (1899)
Marguerite Yourcenar, from "Memoirs of Hadrian"
“I knew almost nothing of these women; the part of their lives they conceded to me was narrowly confined between two half-opened doors; their love, of which they never ceased talking, seemed to me sometimes as light as one of their garlands; it was like a fashionable jewel, or a fragile and costly fillet, and I suspected them of putting on their passion with their necklaces and their rouge. My own life was not less mysterious to them; they hardly desired to know it, preferring to dream vaguely, and mistakenly, about it; I came to understand that the spirit of the game demanded these perpetual disguises, these exaggerated avowals and complaints, this pleasure sometimes simulated and sometimes concealed, these meetings contrived like the figures of a dance. Even in our quarrels they expected a conventional response from me, and the weeping beauty would wring her hands as if on the stage.”