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I am dying, Egypt, dying...
Mark Antony
Image from the Metropolitan Museum of Art
the PBS news hour here
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Showing posts with label mourning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mourning. Show all posts
mourning
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images: 1 Givenchy ,2 Edward Curtis- Cheyenne bridegroom
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America the beautiful
it will be some time before I can look at her in this way again.
it will be some time before I can look at her in this way again.
infanticide, fratricide, patricide, matricide.
suicide-a nation killing itself.
images: 1 Givenchy ,2 Edward Curtis- Cheyenne bridegroom
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Vale from Carthage
Vale From Carthage
Peter Viereck, 1944
I, now at Carthage. He shot dead at Rome.
Shipmates last May. "And what if one of us,"
I asked last May, in fun, in gentleness,
"Wears doom, like dungarees, and doesn't know?"
He laughed, "Not see Times Square again?" The foam,
Feathering across that deck a year ago,
Swept those five words-like seeds-beyond the seas
Into his future. There they grew like trees;
And as he passed them there next spring, they laid
Upon his road of fire their sudden shade.
Though he had always scraped his mess-kit pure
And scrubbed redeemingly his barracks floor,
Though all his buttons glowed their ritual hymn
Like cloudless moons to intercede for him,
No furlough fluttered from the sky. He will
Not see Times Square-he will not see-he will
Not see Times change;
Shipmates last May. "And what if one of us,"
I asked last May, in fun, in gentleness,
"Wears doom, like dungarees, and doesn't know?"
He laughed, "Not see Times Square again?" The foam,
Feathering across that deck a year ago,
Swept those five words-like seeds-beyond the seas
Into his future. There they grew like trees;
And as he passed them there next spring, they laid
Upon his road of fire their sudden shade.
Though he had always scraped his mess-kit pure
And scrubbed redeemingly his barracks floor,
Though all his buttons glowed their ritual hymn
Like cloudless moons to intercede for him,
No furlough fluttered from the sky. He will
Not see Times Square-he will not see-he will
Not see Times change;
at Carthage (while my friend,
Living those words at Rome, screamed in the end)
I saw an ancient Roman's tomb and read
"Vale" in stone.
Living those words at Rome, screamed in the end)
I saw an ancient Roman's tomb and read
"Vale" in stone.
Here two wars mix their dead:
Roman, my shipmate's dream walks hand in hand
With yours tonight ("New York again" and "Rome")
Like widowed sisters bearing water home
On tired heads through hot Tunisian sand
In good cool urns, and says, "I understand."
Roman, you'll see your Forum Square no more;
Roman, my shipmate's dream walks hand in hand
With yours tonight ("New York again" and "Rome")
Like widowed sisters bearing water home
On tired heads through hot Tunisian sand
In good cool urns, and says, "I understand."
Roman, you'll see your Forum Square no more;
What's left but this to say of any war?
A poem I remember in detail from high school days- this Vale from Carthage, by Peter Viereck, a haunting reminder that some things do not change- as we pass this Memorial Day 2010.
A necessary evil in such a world the American Battle Monuments Commission site HereWhere we honour our dead.
Over 125,000 American dead lie on foreign soil from three wars. Many more must be lost to the decaying earth-never claimed or marked.
These remembrances must be kept and their significance never lessened in the Hope that someday we will come to mark them with no countryman's blood shed away from Home.
Where we are needed we should go-where we are not and do not understand a culture thousands of years older than our own-We should not go. We are not marked there with stones--but unwelcome-Our living and Our dead. Now in this year of 2010- a generation as young and beautiful as any- dwindling in numbers and expectations.
in remembrance
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Though the Auden words are jarring and desolate- He expresses the initial grief that blankets us when the love of our life ceases to be. Solace will come, But, In time.
(I have lost two special friends- in the last few days, An immensely talented childhood friend, His voice in song and laughter will be sorely missed- a sacred but lamenting silence. A friend and client- his fully engaged participation and interest in the design process made this project more successful and just more fun. Both left beautifully strong women-these W H Auden words- are for them.)
Cy Twombly, "Untitled" paintings from here
Widow's Weeds Couture
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The beautiful French model, chanteuse, Lenor Scherrer has just entered the world of couture. Scherrer is certainly comfortable wearing couture-she is the daughter of Jean-Louis Scherrer-French couturier. Givenchy’s Riccardo Tisci found Lenore perfect as muse for Givenchy's recent print ads. “I’m completely in love with her,”(Women’s Wear Daily.) “For me, she represents France in all senses: the elegance, the aristocracy” — and, évidemment — “the darkness.”
It was when her father asked her to accompany him to Yves Saint Laurent's burial that Lenore realized there was little befitting such an occasion. "There was a time when "a widow’s mourning dress was closely observed,” says Lenor Scherrer.
Goya’s painting of the Duchess of Alba illustrates Scherrer's vision.
Scherrer imagines Lenor Funeral Couture will lure a different designer to dress a widow of means each season. It would follow they will be waiting reverently for their call. Perhaps a word with fashion chameleon Daphne Guinness would be appropriate.
The New York Times Moment ( Stephen Heyman) writes-
"Her line even comes complete with its own fragrance, Maximilia, named after Maximilian Kolbe, the Polish friar who took the place of a condemned man at Auschwitz. Scherrer’s lavish youth is a roman à clef waiting to happen: Catholic school, a caretaker named Guigui, her father’s boutique on the Avenue Montaigne, which, she notes, was once called “L’Allée des Veuves” or “Widows’ Way.” Lately, she’s been dabbling in music, and one of the tracks off her forthcoming album is a cover of Schubert’s Death and The Maiden."
Death becomes her.
read more about Mademoiselle Scherrer here at Paris Originals & at Model's Own here
see the many images of Daphne Guinness at Scala Regia here there are lots, but SR must get some of Lenore Scherrer
images from French Vogue with Scherrer here
accompanying her father to receive the French Medal of Honour here
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photograph by Sofia Sanchez & Mauro Mongiello
from NYT the moment here
The beautiful French model, chanteuse, Lenor Scherrer has just entered the world of couture. Scherrer is certainly comfortable wearing couture-she is the daughter of Jean-Louis Scherrer-French couturier. Givenchy’s Riccardo Tisci found Lenore perfect as muse for Givenchy's recent print ads. “I’m completely in love with her,”(Women’s Wear Daily.) “For me, she represents France in all senses: the elegance, the aristocracy” — and, évidemment — “the darkness.”
It was when her father asked her to accompany him to Yves Saint Laurent's burial that Lenore realized there was little befitting such an occasion. "There was a time when "a widow’s mourning dress was closely observed,” says Lenor Scherrer.
Goya’s painting of the Duchess of Alba illustrates Scherrer's vision.
Scherrer imagines Lenor Funeral Couture will lure a different designer to dress a widow of means each season. It would follow they will be waiting reverently for their call. Perhaps a word with fashion chameleon Daphne Guinness would be appropriate.
Guinness in Alexander McQueen here
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(at the designer's funeral early this year)
The New York Times Moment ( Stephen Heyman) writes-
"Her line even comes complete with its own fragrance, Maximilia, named after Maximilian Kolbe, the Polish friar who took the place of a condemned man at Auschwitz. Scherrer’s lavish youth is a roman à clef waiting to happen: Catholic school, a caretaker named Guigui, her father’s boutique on the Avenue Montaigne, which, she notes, was once called “L’Allée des Veuves” or “Widows’ Way.” Lately, she’s been dabbling in music, and one of the tracks off her forthcoming album is a cover of Schubert’s Death and The Maiden."
Death becomes her.
read more about Mademoiselle Scherrer here at Paris Originals & at Model's Own here
see the many images of Daphne Guinness at Scala Regia here there are lots, but SR must get some of Lenore Scherrer
images from French Vogue with Scherrer here
accompanying her father to receive the French Medal of Honour here
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Regina Angelorum at McQueen
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images of McQueen's collection are from style.com
for more of hans memling.org.
from Jean Fouquet's Melun Diptych Madonna and Child
a supposed portrait of Agnes Sorel, confidante & mistress of Charles VII
image from here
image from here
Kyrie, eleison.
Christe, eleison.
Kyrie, eleison.
Christe, audi nos.
Christe, exaudi nos.
Christe, eleison.
Kyrie, eleison.
Christe, audi nos.
Christe, exaudi nos.
Pater de caelis, Deus, …………………. miserere nobis.
Fili, Redemptor mundi, Deus,
Spiritus Sancte, Deus,
Sancta Trinitas, unus Deus,
Sancta Maria, ………………………….. ora pro nobis.
Sancta Dei Genetrix,
Sancta Virgo virginum,
Mater Christi,
Mater divinae gratiae,
Mater purissima,
Mater castissima,
Mater inviolata,
Mater intemerata,
Mater amabilis,
Mater admirabilis,
Mater boni consilii,
Mater Creatoris,
Mater Salvatoris,
Virgo prudentissima,
Virgo veneranda,
Virgo praedicanda,
Virgo potens,
Virgo clemens,
Virgo fidelis,
Speculum iustitiae,
Sedes sapientiae,
Causa nostrae laetitiae,
Vas spirituale,
Vas honorabile,
Vas insigne devotionis,
Rosa mystica,
Turris Davidica,
Turris eburnea,
Domus aurea,
Foederis arca,
Ianua caeli,
Stella matutina,
Salus infirmorum,
Refugium peccatorum,
Consolatrix afflictorum,
Auxilium Christianorum,
Regina Angelorum,
Regina Patriarcharum,
Regina Prophetarum,
Regina Apostolorum,.
Regina Martyrum,
Regina Confessorum,
Regina Virginum,
Regina Sanctorum omnium,
Regina sine labe originali concepta,
Regina in caelum assumpta,
Regina sacratissimi Rosarii,
Regina pacis,
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,
parce nobis, Domine.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,
exaudi nos, Domine.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,
miserere nobis.
Fili, Redemptor mundi, Deus,
Spiritus Sancte, Deus,
Sancta Trinitas, unus Deus,
Sancta Maria, ………………………….. ora pro nobis.
Sancta Dei Genetrix,
Sancta Virgo virginum,
Mater Christi,
Mater divinae gratiae,
Mater purissima,
Mater castissima,
Mater inviolata,
Mater intemerata,
Mater amabilis,
Mater admirabilis,
Mater boni consilii,
Mater Creatoris,
Mater Salvatoris,
Virgo prudentissima,
Virgo veneranda,
Virgo praedicanda,
Virgo potens,
Virgo clemens,
Virgo fidelis,
Speculum iustitiae,
Sedes sapientiae,
Causa nostrae laetitiae,
Vas spirituale,
Vas honorabile,
Vas insigne devotionis,
Rosa mystica,
Turris Davidica,
Turris eburnea,
Domus aurea,
Foederis arca,
Ianua caeli,
Stella matutina,
Salus infirmorum,
Refugium peccatorum,
Consolatrix afflictorum,
Auxilium Christianorum,
Regina Angelorum,
Regina Patriarcharum,
Regina Prophetarum,
Regina Apostolorum,.
Regina Martyrum,
Regina Confessorum,
Regina Virginum,
Regina Sanctorum omnium,
Regina sine labe originali concepta,
Regina in caelum assumpta,
Regina sacratissimi Rosarii,
Regina pacis,
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,
parce nobis, Domine.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,
exaudi nos, Domine.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,
miserere nobis.
V. Ora pro nobis, sancta Dei Genetrix.
R. Ut digni efficiamur promissionibus Christi.
R. Ut digni efficiamur promissionibus Christi.
Oremus. Concede nos famulos tuos, quaesumus, Domine Deus, perpetua
mentis et corporis sanitate gaudere, et gloriosae beatae Mariae semper
Virginis intercessione, a praesenti liberari tristitia, et aeterna perfrui
laetitia. Per Christum Dominum nostrum.
R. Amen.
mentis et corporis sanitate gaudere, et gloriosae beatae Mariae semper
Virginis intercessione, a praesenti liberari tristitia, et aeterna perfrui
laetitia. Per Christum Dominum nostrum.
R. Amen.
The Virgin of Chancellor Rolin
Jan Van Eyck (image from here)
Hans Memling
The Mystic Marriage of St Catherine of Alexandria
image from here
Hans Memling (detail)
images of McQueen's collection are from style.com
for more of hans memling.org.
Beauty,Truth and Paradise
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* The God MAAT''s feather was the measure that determined whether the souls (residing in the heart) of the departed would reach the paradise of afterlife successfully.
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I died for beauty but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.
He questioned softly why I failed?
"For beauty," I replied.
"And I for truth, the two are one;
We brethren are," he said.
"For beauty," I replied.
"And I for truth, the two are one;
We brethren are," he said.
And so, as kinsmen met a night,
We talked between the rooms,
Until the moss had reached our lips,
And covered up our names.
We talked between the rooms,
Until the moss had reached our lips,
And covered up our names.
~Emily Dickinson
Paradise
by Alexander McQueen
the heart is weighed in balance against the feather-together the two symbolizing truth-
from the Egyptian Spells of Coming Forth by Day*
* The God MAAT''s feather was the measure that determined whether the souls (residing in the heart) of the departed would reach the paradise of afterlife successfully.
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the ornithologists
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'My relationship with McQueen began in 1994, when I went to a Saint Martins graduate show. I couldn't get a seat, so I sat on the stairs and I was just watching, when I suddenly thought: I really like those clothes, they are amazing. It was his first collection.‘It was the tailoring and the movement which initially drew me to them. I tried to get hold of him and I kept calling his mother, but he was on holiday.She kept saying: 'He's not here, he's not here.' She told him: 'This crazy person is trying to get hold of you.' I eventually got to meet him and I decided to buy the collection: I bought one thing a month and paid him £100 a week. He'd bring an outfit in a bin liner, I'd look at it and then he'd come to the cashpoint with me.'
~ isabella blow
McQueen images from Style.com
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"And as a bird each fond endearment tries
To tempt its new-fledg'd offspring to the skies,
He tried each art, reprov'd each dull delay,
Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way."
~ Oliver Goldsmith
from Greek: ὄρνις, ὄρνιθος, ornis, ornithos, "bird"; and λόγος, logos, "knowledge
Antonio Valli da Todi 1601
they shared many things-
a love of ornithology
McQueen's Spring 2008 Collection
dedicated to Isabella Blow
Like a bird she seems to wear gay plumage unconsciously,
as if it grew upon her.
~Henry Ward Beecher
Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
I
Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing Was the eye of the blackbird.
II
I was of three minds,
Like a tree In which there are three blackbirds.
III
The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.
IV
A man and a woman Are one.
A man and a woman and a blackbird Are one.
V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling Or just after.
VI
Icicles filled the long window With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood Traced in the shadow An indecipherable cause.
VII
On thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet Of the women about you?
VIII
I know noble accents And lucid,
escapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved In what I know.
IX
When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge Of one of many circles.
X
At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply.
XI
He rode over Connecticut In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook The shadow of his equipage For blackbirds.
XII
The river is moving. The blackbird must be flying.
XIII
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat In the cedar-limbs.
-Wallace Stevens
Now came still evening on, and twilight gray
Had in her sober livery all things clad;
Silence accompany'd; for beast and bird, T
hey to their grassy couch, these to their nests,
Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale;
She all night long her amorous descant sung;
Silence was pleas'd.
Now glow'd the firmament With living sapphires;
Hesperus, that led The starry host,
rode brightest, till the moon,
Rising in clouded majesty,
at length.Apparent queen unveil'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.
~Milton
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die,
Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly.
~Langston Hughes
a hd versa tube
Eagle Sculpture
inspired by McQueen & Blow's mutual love of ornithology
Spring2008 Collection
'My relationship with McQueen began in 1994, when I went to a Saint Martins graduate show. I couldn't get a seat, so I sat on the stairs and I was just watching, when I suddenly thought: I really like those clothes, they are amazing. It was his first collection.‘It was the tailoring and the movement which initially drew me to them. I tried to get hold of him and I kept calling his mother, but he was on holiday.She kept saying: 'He's not here, he's not here.' She told him: 'This crazy person is trying to get hold of you.' I eventually got to meet him and I decided to buy the collection: I bought one thing a month and paid him £100 a week. He'd bring an outfit in a bin liner, I'd look at it and then he'd come to the cashpoint with me.'
~ isabella blow
The stripped and shapely Maple grieves
The ghosts of her Departed leaves.
ground is hard, As hard as stone.
The year is old, The birds are flown.
~John Updike
Sonnet: To a Child
Sweet is your antique body, not yet young;
Beauty withheld from youth that looks for youth;
Fair only for your father. Dear among Masters in art.
To all men else uncouth; Save me, who know your smile comes very old,
Learnt of the happy dead that laughed with gods;
For earlier suns than ours have lent you gold;
Sly fauns and trees have given you jigs and nods.
But soon your heart, hot-beating like a bird's, Shall slow down.
Youth shall lop your hair; And you must learn wry meanings in our words.
Your smile shall dull, because too keen aware;
And when for hopes your hand shall be uncurled,
Your eyes shall close, being open to the world.
~Wilfred Owens
McQueen images from Style.com
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A Genius Exits
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his Spring 2010 Collection now to be talked about forever.
/all images from style.com
read General Lee, NYTIMES article from September 2009
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requiescat in pace
His death comes days before London Fashion Week, and as final preparations were being made for a spring collection to be unveiled in Paris-his Spring 2010 Collection now to be talked about forever.
/all images from style.com
read General Lee, NYTIMES article from September 2009
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