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From the great Atlantic ocean to the wide Pacific shore – Sunday surprise

Monday, February 12th, 2018

[ by Charles Cameron — with an itch to ride the rails ]
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For your evening entertainment..

Easst to West, that the Wabash Cannonball, North to South, the City of New Orleans, sung by Johnny Cash and Arlo Guthrie respectively.

Sunday surprise — the demonic and the sanctified, illuminated

Monday, February 12th, 2018

[ by Charles Cameron — may you and I play always among the vertues and against the vices ]
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That we may discern the distance between the demonic and the sanctified, and play accordingly:

**

I’m curious about the elongated chess board on which our demon slaughters the very mind of the prayerful monk.

Emily?

**

Sources:

  • Emily Steiner, Twitter
  • Elizabeth Biggs, Twitter
  • The monk prays (above, sanctified), the devil slays the monk (below, demonic)

    **

    Ha!

    It is four hundred years since Caxton published this book. We may be sure that so pains»taking a man did the best he could with the spelling. The alphabet he employed was inadequate to represent the sounds of the English language, and he had no other guide than the spelling of the scribes, who represented, as well as they could, the pronunciations in use in the several counties in which they lived. In the course of two hundred and fifty years, coming down to the days of Addison and Pope, a considerable degree of uniformity had been obtained, both in pronunciation, by means of travel, and in spelling, by the desire of printers to have a standard orthography for each word, in order to save themselves the trouble of thinking and comparing various orthographies.

    That’s from The Game of the Chesse: a Moral Treatise on the Duties of Life … Reprinted which I ran across while searching (via the keywords “moral” and “chesse” for this quote:

    Meantime, the king and queen, for recreation’s sake, began to play together. It looked not unlike chesse, only it had other laws, for it was the vertues and vices one against another, where it might be ingeniously discovered with what plots the vices lay in wait for the vertues, and how to re-encounter them again. This was so properly and artificially performed that it were to be wished that we had the like game too.

    That’s from The Chymical Marriage of Johann Valentin Andreae, first published in 1616, translated into English by Ezechiel Foxcroft in 1690.

    Pray, play most assiduously.

    Sunday surprise, quick Beach Boys edition

    Monday, August 14th, 2017

    [ by Charles Cameron — enough of Bach, let’s relive the Sixties with a difference ]
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    Try this first, a capella and just a tad mind-blowing — hat tip, Critt Jarvis! —

    Now that’s a real test of musicianship! Here’s what you get when the instrumentals are included- –

    **

    It’s Sunday — maybe you have a few minutes to pick up some Good Vibrations:

    Happy daze to all ZP readers!

    Sunday surprise, my ashes when the time comes

    Monday, August 14th, 2017

    [ by Charles Cameron — the poem as guided tour ]
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    So, my son Emlyn asked me where I would like my ashes scattered when I’m gone, offering to do me that service, and the ensuing discussion made it clear I had an opportunity not only to send him to some places I’ve loved where he’d be likely to find adventure, but also to provide him with reading (or listening) along the way — again, close to my mind and heart and potentially revelatory for his.

    ^^

    I was tossing this around in my mind a day or two ago, and this poem announced itself:

    Paradise or Pasadena, since you asked

    I should like my ashes scattered in the upper atmosphere,
    in Bach to be precise,
    in deep feeling, in the St Anne Prelude and Fugue,
    in “not of this world” in other words,
    believing that if met by JSB
    at the General Resurrection, I was most choicely planted.

    Bach, seriously, is the mountain range I have assiduously
    climbed since early youth,
    and the St Anne not the most obvious,
    but among the most glorious works therein,
    though I am also vastly taken by Contrapunctus IX
    and the Dorian Toccata was my first love.

    More practically, fold me between pages of Yeats or Rilke,
    and leave me on a bench in the Huntington Gardens.

    That’s by no means my final response to Emlyn’s question, I look forward to many more hours of pondering and reminiscing. But it’s a thought..

    **

    Here, for your delight and enrichment, are the musical offerings the poem mentions:

    The St Anne Prelude and Fugue, played here by Peter Hurford:

    Contrapunctus IX from The Art of Fugue, played by Glenn Gould on piano, his usual instrument:

    and, in a rare instance for Gould, on organ:

    — and the Dorian Toccata and Fugue, my first Bach love, which I bought, treasured, and binge-listened to back in the late 50s (?) on a 45 rpm disc:

    **

    Noteworthy, the second of two images of Ton Koopman accompanying that last recording — which shows the fierce nature of Koopman when he was young — fading in right at the end of the Toccata:

    Ton Koopman

    I would love to have known him back when..

    **

    And place — the Huntington Gardens in Pasadena, which include a garden of flowers named in Shakespeare’s works, a Japanese garde, rose garden, and — my absolute favorite –the Desert Garden, containing 5,000 varieties of cactus and other xerophytes across 10 acres..

    I suspect that losing oneself in those 10 acres is the closest thing to visiting an alien planet to be found on this one…

    Once you’re in the garden and have escaped the lure of the cacti, the cool of the Huntington Library is nearby — with some stunning William Blake illuminations perhaps, and both a First Folio Shakespeare and the remarkable “bad” First Quarto of Hamlet which preceded it.

    How has the mighty soliloquy been truncated:

    To Die, to sleepe, is that all?

    **

    Cacti, roses, Folio, scholars, tea rooms — heaven, in its earthly approximation…

    Sunday surprise, Kaushiki Chakrabarty

    Monday, July 31st, 2017

    [ by Charles Cameron — lend me 18 minutes, thank me later! ]
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    I had no idea: a raga from the superb Kaushiki Chakrabarty. I have no idea why it took me seventy-plus years to know I shared the earth with such a voice — and such a beauty! — there is hope for us yet:

    With profound thanks to 3 Quarks Daily for the pointer.


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