Tree on marble. Montmartre cemetery.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Light Platinum Gameshark
Wonny Song concert at the Hermitage
There was this evening at the Hermitage, a concert pianist Wonny Song, Korean-Canadian star of the international music scene. This benefit concert was organized as part of fundraising for the College Foundation of Montreal for repairs room of the Hermitage.
There was this evening at the Hermitage, a concert pianist Wonny Song, Korean-Canadian star of the international music scene. This benefit concert was organized as part of fundraising for the College Foundation of Montreal for repairs room of the Hermitage. I have not forgotten the name of Wonny Song since a friend made me listen to his beautiful recording of Pictures at an Exhibition by Mussorgsky. Immediately, I recognized two qualities rare among pianists I hear: the expressivity of touch and sheer musicality. The program this evening included works by Beethoven, Chopin and Debussy, a program rather classical sort of tribute to composer-pianists.
The concert opened with Sonata "Waldstein" by Beethoven . On the first theme of the Allegro con brio , Song said his solar presence, leaving the breath, the intensity and elegance of touch spring. The second movement, perfectly controlled, vented his light fall under the clouds. This poetry continued until Rondo allegretto , Song demonstrated that he can make the instrument sing even at full volume. Some notes side did not stop the music to go against hope, is at the heart of the listener, because the pianist had us a Beethoven more human. the Chopin Barcarolle lacks treatment as happy. Some blackouts prevented pianist to remain faithful to the beautiful sound texture of work he had undertaken. If it had not been for these excesses, oil radiant nonetheless managed to evoke that have marked each of us with a hot iron. Then the Andante and Grande Polonaise brillante spianato inspired the musician virtuosity few good chips. Performed with zeal, this piece was the shining round tone Spartan Bosendorfer concert.
Between the two pieces of Chopin, Mr. Song replied politely to questions from a student and to those present the public with total dedication.
L'isle Debussy was happy with the Waldstein, the finest moment of the evening. Finesse and tenderness Juvenile covered the atmosphere, while the pianist showed, even better than in the Andante spianato , his talent for the brilliance and beauty of tone. Despite the continuous applause at the end of the concert, the artist chose not to return.
the title suggests, the organization of intimate concerts offered a cocktail at the end of the program. I had the pleasure of speaking with Mr Wong himself, who welcomed me to the most friendly manner. This meeting confirmed to me that a concert experience can be complete only if the viewer is able to meet the artist face to face and we will not discuss the important effect of such a meeting! By being open (read: listening carefully) shows that despite the differences in the way of seeing, feeling and communicating, the artist and the audience actually speak the same language, language emotions.
After some nice exchanges after the concert, I suddenly came this thought: "Classical music is for everyone; refuse, you die a little. " Therefore we can only commend the organizers of these intimate concerts at the Hermitage, which allows the public to not only hear great artists, but also contribute to the restoration of a magnificent concert hall Montreal.
For more information, you can directly reach the College Foundation of Montreal at the following address: fondation@college-montreal.qc.ca and / or visit the website Wonny Song: wonnysong.com
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Is Brazilian Blowout Like A Texturizer
Back of My Head, EP Ben Wilkins
At the Casa del Popolo was held yesterday evening, launching Back of My Head, the new EP by singer-songwriter Ben Wilkins Montreal. The music of singer that I discovered last summer during an impromptu visit to the Coffee Convenience Store (and I commented in this post ), had stopped rocking my ears since, contributing to restore my faith in the song emerging, thanks to his exceptional gifts as a composer and arranger. At the time of going to the theater, the thermometer was close to 30 degrees below zero. We learn these days at our expense: you have to brave the cold so we want achieve the heat ...
At the Casa del Popolo was held yesterday evening, launching Back of My Head, the new EP by singer-songwriter Ben Wilkins Montreal. The music of singer that I discovered last summer during an impromptu visit to the Coffee Convenience Store (and I commented in this post ), had stopped rocking my ears since, contributing to restore my faith in the song emerging, thanks to his exceptional gifts as a composer and arranger. At the time of going to the theater, the thermometer was close to 30 degrees below zero. We learn these days at our expense: you have to brave the cold so we want achieve the heat ...
The piano was placed to the left of the stage. At right, four chairs awaited the arrival of a string quartet, behind a battery was circumvented by two microphones, and a little right, a small space for the bassist. Although the presence of classical instruments was obvious, the aura radiated training of pop music. Ben Wilkins tells it on his Facebook page, " Back of My Head was recorded with real instruments played by real musicians." A statement which is not trivial, considering the amount of artists, often very famous, which, increasingly, are using the mail rather than real musicians to record their material.
singer-songwriter seemed taciturn and sociable at once seized by this major event, the arrival of this first installment in the music scene. Quickly returned to a clear appreciation, Wilkins, whose voice betrays his natural gifts as a singer, has invaded the sound space through songs that have the gift of surprise, even after several hearings. Enriched by the presence of talented Quartet Portrait of a Lady (these 4 musicians each taking their bow showed an unprecedented musicality), these songs were a canvas full of colors, shades and cadenzas warm and slightly devilish, evoking both the penetrating charm of classical music that groove of a Stevie Wonder or Jamiroquai. Side of the instrumentation, bass, drums and piano trio were in complicity, while arrangements for strings, Ben Wilkins signed, we confirmed, once again, the undeniable talent of the songwriter for the writing music; inventive counterpoint, clarity of inner voices, patterns in succession forced us to never get away from the central core of the music simple and complex at once. Wilkins is a composer born, the likes of those capable of bringing out a new musical idea every 10 steps. Result? music of astonishing simplicity and that's good.
I could not help but slip a word to the singer after delivery. "You made my month," I told him, still crossed by his best tunes. Friends were waiting at the bend, and I was getting ready to face the cold again. These songs are so beautiful that I want 30 more like that, "I started Shefteshy Pascal, co director of the EP, with Wilkins. Shefteshy told me quietly that the Montreal musician already has several new songs in the bank. What would I not give to hear them now! Was I so thirsty? Without doubt, and the reason is quite simple, is that I rarely come across a source of this quality. I prefer to quench my thirst so immediately, because as we know, time passes and the music, the real, is increasingly rare.
I could not help but slip a word to the singer after delivery. "You made my month," I told him, still crossed by his best tunes. Friends were waiting at the bend, and I was getting ready to face the cold again. These songs are so beautiful that I want 30 more like that, "I started Shefteshy Pascal, co director of the EP, with Wilkins. Shefteshy told me quietly that the Montreal musician already has several new songs in the bank. What would I not give to hear them now! Was I so thirsty? Without doubt, and the reason is quite simple, is that I rarely come across a source of this quality. I prefer to quench my thirst so immediately, because as we know, time passes and the music, the real, is increasingly rare.
I say again and again: THE songwriter Ben Wilkins is now to discover here and elsewhere.
Useful links: http://www.benwilkinsmusic.com/
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
Cost To Have Ptosis Surgery
A first book of poetry for Marie-Pierre Sirois
In resolve internally, Marie-Pierre Sirois time scans of the body's own, but also that of hope, in verses here and there that marks the use of adjectives to the effect sometimes lower bound: "In this luxurious secular cloister / stainless modulates the Light" or "while / the top of my window industrial / I spied the corner of his eye." It opens the door more difficult of these poems that speak of objects and where the musical is not always continuous. We hear still the engine of the "resolve", which happens most often outside (rather than domestic). We love these poems, however, more direct, less embellished form, those who hold a silence or the voice that proclaims nothing, but shows itself more naturally through the counting of its enunciation "Read a page or two on a rock / for the rest of the river / of course Hi ', or to other students:" this long forest where I advance / in heavy turtle caps / she is silent for I support it? I expect that the bear is the bear / man for whom I sing "
This report (and others) can be read on the website of The Rookie of the Month http://larecrue . net /
.
In resolve internally, Marie-Pierre Sirois time scans of the body's own, but also that of hope, in verses here and there that marks the use of adjectives to the effect sometimes lower bound: "In this luxurious secular cloister / stainless modulates the Light" or "while / the top of my window industrial / I spied the corner of his eye." It opens the door more difficult of these poems that speak of objects and where the musical is not always continuous. We hear still the engine of the "resolve", which happens most often outside (rather than domestic). We love these poems, however, more direct, less embellished form, those who hold a silence or the voice that proclaims nothing, but shows itself more naturally through the counting of its enunciation "Read a page or two on a rock / for the rest of the river / of course Hi ', or to other students:" this long forest where I advance / in heavy turtle caps / she is silent for I support it? I expect that the bear is the bear / man for whom I sing "This report (and others) can be read on the website of The Rookie of the Month http://larecrue . net /
.
resolve internally
Marie-Pierre Sirois
Hexagon, 2010
112 p.
Hexagon, 2010
112 p.
Recovery After A Brazilian Wax
The geese can not tell us (poetry)
We talk about migration, the mother of a paternal presence bales of nature, exile, and many other things in The geese can not tell us first book of poetry by Mireille Gagné. Here and there, the author sends images figuratively, sometimes plays with the terms: "I hunt in the snow gun / pulls the river to scare the ice, returns to childhood, which is probably the central theme of book. It is in the finesse that begins and continues to this expedition LBS heart of nature, which is reminiscent of a paradise lost. Without lunar gravity, without shimmer in the ontological, the author discusses life, reminding us of the death of things better than ours.
(A word to the publishing house, we could do without a back cover my faith very syrupy, who wants too take the reader by the hand: "The writing of these deals [...] Terrible things are essential, and illuminates the close relationship between humans and nature. "It's going for the relationship between humans and nature, but in terms of writing which "deals with serious matters, core", which of us, intelligent reader would expect a poet talking about something other than that, serious things, essential?)
The geese can not tell us
Mireille Gagné
Hexagon, 2010
72 per
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Truffles In Pregnancy
Beethoven / Kafka and greed
This morning, I assure the bridge between two authors, the first composer and the second author. That's Sonata Appassionata Beethoven which leads me to writing this post. My walk up coffee the house was already beautified by trees and branches coated with snow, when Beethoven arrived to drop just enough music to start a Sunday in peace.
The Appassionata Sonata is the first I ever heard of Beethoven. This was part of a 33 rpm of piano pieces that gave me for Christmas many years ago - I was about eight or nine years. I believe that the discovery of Beethoven's "Pianist" (instead of Beethoven 's "orchestra") made me more sensitive to the tragedy of his deafness. It never ceases to repeat, the Beethoven symphony (which is also the concertos) is a beethoven outside and shallower than the Beethoven inside the same one found in most piano sonatas and the last string quartets. Like many musicians and music lovers, I have an overdose of Beethoven as a teenager, not recovering until several years later, this time with an incomparable happiness. What should I thank? The last three piano sonatas. That said, we need another ear to listen to the latest works of the great Deaf, simply because this music takes its source from the confines of the pure silence. With this single organ uptake What sound mind, Beethoven found the joys of another world, a world that, to listen, clearly more perfect (you'll forgive me this oxymoron) "livable" than ours. To listen to
Sonata Appassio nata performed by Alfred Brendel is here.
my Avid
e is not that music this morning (few minutes ago I already closed the window music me, because I can not to write with happiness when there is music, especially large). In his Journal Kafka beautifully expresses her eagerness for books. I read this passage a few years ago, when I was on vacation in the Iles-de-la-Madeleine. This week, by searching, I came the first blow to the page where it was! I will copy here, believing that these words speak to anyone other than me.
"I will try to gradually develop a list of all the things that are certain in me will come later ones are credible and which ones are possible, etc.. What is certain is that my craving for books. I will not have both read or see that, that I convinced of their existence in the window of a bookstore. If it is somewhere more copies of the same book, each of them delighted me. It is as if the greed part of the stomach, as if it was a misguided appetite. The books I have give me less joy than the others, those of my sisters, however, already make me happy. The desire to possess is a desire incomparably lower, it is almost absent. "(Journal Kafka) 
This morning, I assure the bridge between two authors, the first composer and the second author. That's Sonata Appassionata Beethoven which leads me to writing this post. My walk up coffee the house was already beautified by trees and branches coated with snow, when Beethoven arrived to drop just enough music to start a Sunday in peace. The Appassionata Sonata is the first I ever heard of Beethoven. This was part of a 33 rpm of piano pieces that gave me for Christmas many years ago - I was about eight or nine years. I believe that the discovery of Beethoven's "Pianist" (instead of Beethoven 's "orchestra") made me more sensitive to the tragedy of his deafness. It never ceases to repeat, the Beethoven symphony (which is also the concertos) is a beethoven outside and shallower than the Beethoven inside the same one found in most piano sonatas and the last string quartets. Like many musicians and music lovers, I have an overdose of Beethoven as a teenager, not recovering until several years later, this time with an incomparable happiness. What should I thank? The last three piano sonatas. That said, we need another ear to listen to the latest works of the great Deaf, simply because this music takes its source from the confines of the pure silence. With this single organ uptake What sound mind, Beethoven found the joys of another world, a world that, to listen, clearly more perfect (you'll forgive me this oxymoron) "livable" than ours. To listen to
Sonata Appassio nata performed by Alfred Brendel is here.
* * *
my Avid
e is not that music this morning (few minutes ago I already closed the window music me, because I can not to write with happiness when there is music, especially large). In his Journal Kafka beautifully expresses her eagerness for books. I read this passage a few years ago, when I was on vacation in the Iles-de-la-Madeleine. This week, by searching, I came the first blow to the page where it was! I will copy here, believing that these words speak to anyone other than me. "I will try to gradually develop a list of all the things that are certain in me will come later ones are credible and which ones are possible, etc.. What is certain is that my craving for books. I will not have both read or see that, that I convinced of their existence in the window of a bookstore. If it is somewhere more copies of the same book, each of them delighted me. It is as if the greed part of the stomach, as if it was a misguided appetite. The books I have give me less joy than the others, those of my sisters, however, already make me happy. The desire to possess is a desire incomparably lower, it is almost absent. "(Journal Kafka)
Monday, January 10, 2011
Can Piston Rings Stick
consolation
What if the real console feeling to know better?
What if the real console feeling to know better?
Yesterday, I yelled, I screamed, I shouted (without telling you) and this morning too. I understand Rimbaud which bases the beauty on her knees and insult. All these poets are one when it comes to his own life, I speak of the inner life, she who, since the world began, was in fact nothing to hide, therefore nothing to suffer.
With the hostile cold days, I thought the winds of snorting thunder that some members of my family, this fatigue that wins too often a sincere heart, to the streets of Chicago that I stalled in my head, Brahms and Schumann are, well, well away from me for some time. This morning I expected nothing and that's when I started to heal. When it comes, healing always amazes me. It is as if it came from another world, in exile from his own heritage. Sometimes I ask her if she is right to insist on her flower unrepentant. She always tells me the same thing, she only comes when I call. That's when I realized that the call is always stronger in spite of us and without our knowledge.
This morning, coffee Kilo Street St. Laurent, I wrote the coda of a moment of darkness. I can not remember its melody, but it is there still unintelligible, waiting patiently for a moment of light. When light comes, I will write another coda to the dark projection. She, again, that enlightens me, so much so that I will not even need to talk on this blog.
good it is to be indignant! It is good to hear once and for all the great cry of rebellion in us! On the bus this morning, the windows castigated my despair. Leaning on the bench, I felt there was not a single drop of my blood was at the height of the beauty of the woman sitting opposite me. But something kept me from the abuse, and it was perfect like that.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Story Behind The Cape Cod Bracelet
Energy is scarce early this year. Fertilizes my patience, as my hours spent resting. These hours do not seem to accumulate but toning her man. I get up, morale has resigned and the mouth to find his body in the sun. We account for the years, those of the past, and we wish to find this music, Mozart or someone else, that will rekindle the fires of glory.
Fortunately, the sacred writing keeps me warm. The desire to write powerful and healing, is beautiful and well presented, honest like a captain which has nothing to lose. My instincts are becoming clearer, but I'm still losing something, vitality, perhaps, or courage, or both. Mornings are my struggles, my evenings are indolent, and I think it is often the case in January. Nevertheless, a book with me. It's still there we can learn something.
As usual, I will not force the melancholy, for good laughs are still there, somewhere, waiting around the bend. The best is to go outside and see, feel, get caught up in the music of the sky and clouds. These days, more than any other music lulls me that Beethoven his Quartet in B flat major op. 130 , dating from his last creative period.
spleenique Despite a ticket, I hope that 2011 can go and on about febrile better and it pushes you to work with joy and abandon. Health will do the rest!
Claudio
Monday, January 3, 2011
Will Tanning Help Acne Scars
2011 Reading List 2010
There were few significant readings for me in 2010. Throughout the year, I had the impression of being constantly in search of moving book, engaging, this book makes you say I liked to write this one . Nevertheless, I was treated to some beautiful moments of reading. Here is the list, followed very soon ticket commenting my favorites and my rant of the year. In the meantime, let me wish you a happy new year 2011!
On reading (Marcel Proust) ****
Animal Farm (Orwell) ****
The Lover (Marguerite Duras) ****
Existentialism is a humanism (Sartre) *** 1 / 2
Struggle and Other Stories (Patrick Suskind) *** 1 / 2
fixed Passion (Philippe Sollers) *** 1 / 2
Mahler (Marc Vignal) collection Solfèges ****
Dangerous Liaisons (Laclos) *** A
The Princess of Cleves) ***
Lancelot or the Knight of the Cart (Chretien de Troyes) *** 1 / 2
Words on Work (Philip Roth) ***
Adolphe (Benjamin Constant) ***
The Myth of Sisyphus (Camus) *** 1 / 2
Writing (Duras) ****
Demian (Hesse) *** 1 / 2
Neiges ( Maxence Fermine) *** 1 / 2
How to Make Love with a negro without getting tired (D. Laferriere) *** 1 / 2
The missing (Camille Allaire) ***
The last days of Stefan Zweig (Lawrence Seksik) ***
Cahiers octavo (1916-1918) (Kafka) *** 1 / 2
English is not a language magic (Jacques Poulin) ***
Our need for consolation is impossible to satisfy (Stig Dagerman) ****
Invisible (Paul Auster ) ****
Tonio Kröger (Thomas Mann) ***
Thieves beauty (Pascal Bruckner) ** 1 / 2
The journey into the past (Stefan Sweig) ***
Chilean Nocturne (Roberto Bolano) ***
Amok (Stefan Zweig) ***
Love is very overrated (Brigitte Giraud) *** 1 / 2
Walls (Olivia Tapiero) ****
The Red Book (Paul Auster) ****
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