"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture
and, if possible, speak a few reasonable words." ~Goethe

~ also, if possible, to dwell in "a house where all's accustomed, ceremonious." ~Yeats

Showing posts with label Marc Chagall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marc Chagall. Show all posts

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Arranging a Window

ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS
Window Over a Garden ~ by Marc Chagall, 1887 - 1985
Beloved Russian painter of both the quotidian and the fantastic

I have long admired Chagall's magical, unusual paintings, the flexible ballerinas and vividly colored violins; but I also love the usual - ness of his interiors, such as the above window scene. I am especially drawn to this sturdy, ordinary doll, dressed in her homespun clothes, perched in her toy chair perched on the table's edge, just waiting for some real life to come along and happen! The stationary kitchen table and chairs are not floating fantastically but quietly awaiting some everyday diners, such as the little person whose head appears right outside the window. The natural landscape beyond the room, the simple curtains and ceiling lamp are lovely but entirely real and expected.

I also like the way that this blue window goes perfectly with the following poem of spring by E. E. Cummings. The view is doubly mesmerizing because we get to look and stare -- just like the people in the poem -- into the room as well as out of the window to the woods beyond. If we "stare carefully" enough at the painting, we might see what Spring sees, some of everything: "a strange thing and a known thing . . . New and Old things."

We are used to the image of Spring bursting upon us, but in this poem Spring is so subtle, so careful:

Spring is like a perhaps hand
(which comes carefully
out of Nowhere)arranging
a window,into which people look(while
people stare
arranging and changing placing
carefully there a strange
thing and a known thing here)and

changing everything carefully

spring is like a perhaps
Hand in a window
(carefully to
and fro moving New and
Old things,while
people stare carefully
moving a perhaps
fraction of flower here placing
an inch of air there)and

without breaking anything.


by E. E. Cummings, 1894 - 1962
Popular, unconventional American poet

Window in the Country

" . . . arranging
a window,into which people look . . . "

[See the two faces, lower right corner?]

I've had several favorite Chagalls over the years, including for a time Le Grand Cirque, which hung in the Snite Museum of Art when I was a graduate student at Notre Dame. How lucky I was to be able to wander into the art museum for free at anytime and sit on a bench in front of this exuberant painting while grading freshman essays. Alas, since that time, Le Grand Cirque, as well as a Picasso and another very small painting that I loved called The Nights of Penelope, have all been relocated to other venues.

Le Grand Cirque


In those days of proximity to these priceless treasures, it never crossed my mind that any of them were not part of the permanent collection at Notre Dame; so it was with some disappointment that I entered the Snite last Spring with my friend Megan only to discover that all my favorites were missing. Yet another incident of being met at the door by that old disheartening maxim: "You can't go home again." Turns out these words also stand true for museums -- and coffee shops!

Here I am with my friend Lisa,
wearing my Notre Dame Chagall shirt in 1987!


If I had realized that the painting was not part of the permanent collection, I would have taken better care of the shirt as a keepsake, and bought a few extras for future use or resale! Unfortunately, I had only the one, now, sadly, worn completely out. I let my sons use it as a paint shirt. I guess Chagall would be cool with that!


Le Grand Cirque, detail

SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS FOR MY
Next Fortnightly Post
Sunday, April 14th

FOR MORE SPRING PAINTINGS by CHAGALL & POEMS by CUMMINGS
Take a look at: "In Just Sweet Spontaneous Spring"
on the THE QUOTIDIAN KIT
(my blog of shorter almost daily posts)

P.S.

Previous Chagall Posts on this blog:
"Except Thou Bless Me"
"Dagmar's Birthday"

& on The Quotidian Kit:
"Jacob's Ladder"
"Except Thou Bless Me"
"Happy 448th to William Shakespeare"
"Chagall Four Seasons Mosaic"
"Life and Good"

Previous Cummings Posts on this blog:
"The Syntax of Love"
"Hominy, Horseradish, and Buffalo Bill"
"Rocky Road"

& on The Quotidian Kit
"The Syntax of Love"
"Little Tree ~ I Will Comfort You"
"Full Moon, Full Heart"
"The Trees Stand"

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Dagmar's Birthday

ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS

Dagmar loved having lunch outside at little places like this!
Photo above taken in Brookston, Indiana
By Dagmar Murray, October 2010

Lunch Friends: Dagmar, Kitti, Katy, Cathy
(My Birthday Last Year)

I'm posting a day early this time ~ on the 13th instead of the 14th ~ because my friend Dagmar was born on April 13th, 1959, and today would have been her 52nd birthday.

Another friend ~ www.jandonley.com ~ also born in April and often mentioned on my blogs, sent a link to the following poem the other day on facebook. Jan wasn't sending the poem, which she describes as "short and so, so beautiful," just to me. Nor did she send it in connection with Dagmar, who died last month, sadly and suddenly. However, as so often happens, Jan's message seemed to come at precisely the right time, thus I share Rilke's poem here today in honor of Dagmar's birthday:

Let This Darkness Be a Bell Tower

Quiet friend who has come so far,
feel how your breathing makes more space around you.
Let this darkness be a bell tower
and you the bell. As you ring,

what batters you becomes your strength.
Move back and forth into the change.
What is it like, such intensity of pain?
If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.

In this uncontainable night,
be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,
the meaning discovered there.

And if the world has ceased to hear you,
say to the silent earth: I flow.
To the rushing water, speak: I am.


by Rainer Maria Rilke
from his Sonnets to Orpheus II, 29
translation by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows

Dinner Dance Friends: Dagmar, Katy, Cathy, Kitti
(Keith, Peter, Jack, Gerry)

Dinner Theatre Friends: Dagmar, Kitti, Katy, Cathy, Leta
(2 husbands visible; 3 others taking photographs)


***********************

I also spent an afternoon last week reading Maya Angelou 's Letter to My Daughter because I wanted to find the sections that I heard Dagmar's daughters read at her memorial service. I believe these are the lines:

"I find it very difficult to let a friend or beloved go into that country of no return. I answer the heroic question, 'Death, where is thy sting?' with 'It is here in my heart, and my mind, and my memories.' I am besieged with painful awe at the vacuum left by the dead. Where did she go? Where is he now? . . . I find relief from the questions only when I concede that I am not obliged to know everything. I remind myself it is sufficient to know what I know, and that what I know, may not always be true.

"When I find myself filling with rage over the loss of a beloved, I try as soon as possible to remember that my concerns and questions should be focused on what I learned or what I have yet to learn from my departed love. What legacy was left which can help me in the art of living a good life?

"Did I learn to be kinder,
To be more patient,
And more generous,
More loving,
More ready to laugh,
And more easy to accept honest tears?

"If I accept those legacies of my departed beloveds, I am able to say, Thank You to them for their love and Thank You to God for their lives."
(107 - 08)

And this:

"Condolences: For a too brief moment in the universe the veil was lifted. They mysterious became known. Questions met answers somewhere behind the stars. Furrowed brows were smoothed and eyelids closed over long unblinking stares.

"Your beloved occupied the cosmos. You awoke to sunrays and nestled down to sleep in moonlight. All life was a gift open to you and burgeoning for you. Choirs sang to harps and your feet moved to ancestral drumbeats. For you were sustaining and being sustained by the arms of your beloved.

"Now the days stretch before you with the dryness and sameness of desert dunes. And in this season of grief we who love you have become invisible to you. Our words worry the empty air around you and you can sense no meaning in our speech.

"Yet we are here. We are still here. Our hearts ache to support you.

"We are always loving you.

"You are not alone."
(111 - 12)

Millennium Park Mirror Ball, Chicago
Photo by Dagmar Murray, February 2009

Back in June 2009, when I started my daily blog ~ The Quotidian Kit ~ I asked Dagmar if I could use her photo of our reflections in the giant mirror ball as the header, because it goes so well with the quoted passage from Quinton Duval. The city looks to me like a big, rounded jar where big ideas might huddle, along with the miniaturized images of our lunch group. We may appear very tiny, but we are not alone!

Here are a couple more pictures taken on the same day:

Riding the Train to Chicago . . .
to have lunch at the Italian Village and see "Jersey Boys"


Dagmar, Kitti, Cathy . . .
at the Chagall Four Seasons Mosaic
First National Plaza
Corner South Dearborn & West Monroe Streets



"The stars were my best friends.
The air was full of legends and phantoms,
full of mythical and fair-tale creatures,
which suddenly flew away over the roof,
so that one was at one with the firmament."

Marc Chagall


SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS FOR MY
Next Fortnightly Post
Thursday, April 28, 2011

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
www.dailykitticarriker.blogspot.com

Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST
my running list of recent reading
www.kittislist.blogspot.com