| Copyright © 2006-2014 Anna MR. All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or in part without permission is prohibited. (All comments © the individual authors.) |
| Copyright © 2006-2014 Anna MR. All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or in part without permission is prohibited. (All comments © the individual authors.) |
14 comments:
With you x
- and remembering also these words by Bertholt Brecht:
In the dark times
Will there also be singing?
Yes, there will be singing
About the dark times.
x
Nicola, Signs - kiitos.
x x
Ah, Johann Sebastian....
I go on coming back to this, just to listen. So very un-English and, pictorially, mythically beautiful...if that makes any sense at all. More a sense than anything verbally explicit. Words, much as I worship them, so often fail.
(And, yes, you and Signs, I know I have broken all the rules regarding adverbs!)
Yes, Kanikoski (hello, incidentally, lovely to see you, long time no see, pitkä aika, ei merta, and we'll conveniently not mention the fact I've left you and plenty of other people here for an absolute age, because it's such a disgrace we cannot possibly mention it, k? K), it's Johann Sebastian himself, or Bach, fach as those who dwell under Milk Wood might say (and do, upon stumbling on his ghost in the night of a Welsh graveyard. And what's more, they say it every time).
I really like this piece of music. I like it with the bones of my soul, if you like - I am nowhere near as knowledgable in music as, say, you, or as I should and ought, but this is one that I'm familiar with since tremendously early childhood and it says things words don't reach. And that's why it's here.
However, words do reach some things and we mustn't slag them off entirely, since it's words we are exchanging here, too, and it's pleasant to do so. Thank you for coming and I hope to see you soon (and yes, I will do my utmost not to leave everybody flailing about in the nooks and crannies of my blog house, beautiful though it is (don't you think so too? Because I sincerely like the place, although sometimes I am riddled by anxiety at the mere thought of coming here).
Which segues me nicely on to meet you, Nicola (hello and hei) - you seem to be smacking words sharply in your comment, too, and so you should - those insolent little things, always winding one up and claiming to be able to say it all and then allowing us, the writers and users and consumers of words, to feel both short-changed, and like we've somehow fallen short. I'm glad you keep coming back to this to listen, gladder still you like, and I feel certain Signs will back me up when I say (Signs? Back me up on this) feel perfectly free to do whatever your heart desires with adverbs. Go, Nicola, go, and let me come and look.
Hugs to you both
x x
I think this was used in the film Jesus of Montreal, and sung by a woman. For my money, the counter tenor is much better than an alto.
Beautiful. My Mum (who's a music teacher) is in Hong Kong for my birthday and this had her swooning too.
Anna, I have ridden here on the wings of Pegasus, so to speak. And find I can say nothing but esokatzf and no, you jolly well can't do whatever you like with adverbs. Unless you are Nicola or similarly word-sensitive. So you're ok too, Sees. In this and everything else, I reckon. Mwah!
Gloriously, delightfully, enthrallingly, magically (no, not that one!), touchingly good to have you back for a while.
Are you looking, Anna? x
(Signs, it says unbfly - what does that mean? x)
Anna, you seem to have unleashed something unmistakeably adverbial in our good sister here - it might get out of control so better come and see to it. Nicola, I think the word ver leprechauns are being deeply esoteric here (don't worry, you'd need to be fairly advanced in word verology to know that) - something about states of being and non-being. If you are a fly. Or a blogger who makes only occasional appearances, you get my drift? You both are and are not and it's all cool.
Lottie - lovely to see you, glad you liked the piece (and likewise a big hello to your mum, too). Yes, I vastly prefer it sung by a man - it's just better that way, isn't it? I saw the Matthew Passion being performed last Easter, and I could have killed the woman who sung this - she was on loan from the opera, and had the typical diva attitude. Her voice was nice enough (for a woman, ha), but she treated this as Her Big Solo and was hitting on the conductor something chronic right the way through, and it just ruined it for me. Ruined.
However. Thank you for letting me know about Jesus of Montreal. I was totally unaware of it until now, but I went and watched the opening scene on youtube and it looked like a Jesus film I'd like to see (unlike, say, the Mel Gibson atrocity which I refuse to see on grounds of prejudice against him, and everything I've heard about it). Whether they use this in it or not I don't know, the scene I watched had Pergolesi, but this is used in what, for me, is the definitive Jesus film - the Pasolini one, Il Vangelo Secondo Matteo. As it is your birthday (Happy Birthday, girl, and remember Picasso's words "It takes a long time to become young"), I will hereby give you one of my favourite scenes, as a present, here. Watch how his camera loves the beautiful, ugly faces of the real people eating their humble olives. I love this film, and bought it on dvd a few years ago.
(God, I hope you like it too, at least a little bit. But happy birthday, for real, Lottie, and many, many, many happy returns.)
x
Signs astride Pegasus, phew and what a relief that you've given us the right of way on the adverbial highway, both yours truly and the fair Nicola (hei, Nicola). (But listen, Nicola. What's this about it not being magically good to see me? Hmmm? I think you'll find I'm very magical indeed, in fact there's a rumour going round (in the comments page a post or two down from here) that I'm a great religious prophet. So there, Nicola, I think that's magical enough for anyone. Granted, I started the rumour myself, but still - no smoke without fire, all that.)
And as for unbfly, both of you - Signs is right about both being and not being, and of being a blogger who makes sudden, freak, not to say miracle appearances (exclusively). For when one truly is pretty fly, one doesn't have to be fly. If you catch my drift.
Mwah and mweh to you both, I remain, yours magically
xx
Thank you. That sent shivers down my spine, especially at the end, when he strides away down the hill. Stripped of context, you really have to watch the faces for signs of what's going on.
And call me shallow, but what a man.
I've just worked out how to put vidoes on my blog, and have put another piece of music there, inspired by you.
I had a wonderful birthday, thank you.
Cx
Hei Lottie, I hope you enjoyed the spine-shivers - if you did, I'm glad you got them. And I don't see any reason for calling you shallow, so shan't.
Glad you had a wonderful birthday. It's as it should be. I shall nip over to yours right now to see what you've posted - I've been totally crap and hibernating/hermitting for the longest while, doing precious few blog visits for months on end, but I'm on my way now.
x
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