28 November 2006

Tudors, Me, and an Elusive Ghost

To begin with, a piece of news: I am the first person to feature on the Blog Spot this Thursday on Richard Fair's programme on BBC Radio Manchester. You can read more about the feature, about Richard (who is also a blogger), and, of course, about our beloved BBC Radio Manchester that has recently won the Station of the Year award. As Richard says in his post, you can listen to the programme online at 2pm, with a chance to listen again after the programme.

Not content apparently with making me his first game, Richard is talking to me at Ordsall Hall - Manchester's very own haunted Tudor mansion. Strictly speaking, when I say 'Tudor' I rather mean its exterior. The Hall itself, however, dates back to as early as the 12th c., and its first long-term owners, the Radclyffe family, had occupied the building and the land approx. between 1335 and 1662. The best-known owners of the Hall of that time include Sir John Radclyffe, the hero of the Hundred Years' War, whose motto - 'Caen, Crecy, Calais' - denoted his taking part in several of the pivotal battles at the beginning of war, which the English had won. Sir Alexander Radclyffe was the High Sheriff of Lancashire on four occasions. Margaret Radclyffe (d. 1599) was Queen Elizabeth's favourite Maid of Honour.

The Hall, however, is better known for two other things. In 1861 it was commemorated by the novelist William Harrison Ainsworth. The novel called Guy Fawkes, or The Gunpowder Treason used Ordsall Hall as the set, where political intrigue and romance entwined. In particular, it introduced the character of Viviana Radclyffe, daughter of Sir William Radclyffe. According to the plot, John Catesby and Guy Fawkes came to Ordsall Hall to hide from King James's pursuivants. There, while Fawkes was detailing out his plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament, John Catesby was wooing Viviana. To perfect the novel and to complete the legend, Ainsworth conjured the love triangle. He made the renowned Protestant scholar Humphrey Cheetham (whose statue you can see in the Manchester Cathedral) Viviana's secret admirer. However, she was a Catholic, thus they could not marry. When the Hall was raided by the pursuivants, Cheetham had rescued Viviana, Catesby and Fawkes via an underpassage. He spent the rest of his life in solitude, 'tinged by the blighting of his early affection'.

Secondly, the Hall is haunted. It is not exactly clear whose ghosts meet you at Ordsall, and what time these ghosts used to live when they were connected to their bodies. But the ghostcam has been working at the Hall for years, and, reportedly, the best time to try and see a ghost was on Saturday night. I must admit, I never tried to *catch* one. However, the photo below shows quite clearly that the Great Hall is indeed being well looked after (see a blueish shadow between the fireplace and a little table?)



[Courtesy of Ordsall Hall).

I shall try and take some pictures on Thursday when I go to Ordsall Hall. This will not be my first ever visit there. The first time I've been to the Hall was in July 2002, and, believe it or not, Ordsall Hall was my first ever Tudor mansion. Prior to that, I've only seen Tudor buildings in the books and on the photos on the web. My impression is that I was somewhat disturbed to go from a huge spacious Great Hall into a dim claustrophobic bedroom, whose ceiling was painted in dark-blue colour and decorated with gilded stars. The feeling of the sky coming down on you was almost palpable. As if that was not enough, the room was called 'the Star Chamber', because of the ceiling. Every Tudor historian would instantly remember that this was also the name of the Royal court that had existed between 1487 and 1641. Its meetings were held in secret, with no indictments, no right of appeal, no juries, and no witnesses. In linguistics they call this 'homonymity' - when two words have a similar spelling, but different meaning.

I chose to specialise in Tudor history because I loved England, the English language and culture, and because I adored Medieval and Early Modern History, but wanted to be closer to the modern times, thus I opted to research into the 16th c. It was an absolutely amazing period of time, as far as I'm concerned. The geographical and scientific discoveries, Renaissance and Baroque, the beginnings of cartography and research into the Solar system, on the one hand, - and Reformation, the Wars of Religion, the Inquisition, and slavery, on the other. The co-existence of the opposites has made the 16th c. irresistibly attractive. I don't think I would want to study any other time, had I been given the choice once again.


And now to something spooky


As I wrote before, I initially wanted to upload two photographs of the ghost. But when I was uploading the photo below, it only opened halfway, so the blueish figure in the dress with the train wasn't seen. Now you can see it well, which either means that the ghost decided to show herself to my readers, or that some forces from the bigger world have intervened.

Whatever is the reason for such metamorphosis, it still proves, in the words of Krzysztof Kieslowski, the Polish cinema genius, that 'something exists beyond this saucer'. Indeed, it does.

27 November 2006

80 Years of Quiet Flows the Don Autograph

As you know, Quiet Flows the Don was written by Mikhail Sholokhov between 1926 and 1940 (vols. 1-3 were written between 1926 and 1928, and the 4th volume was published in 1940). However, throughout his life Sholokhov was plagued by the accusations of plagiarism, mainly because he was very young at the time of composition, and because the narrative had suggested an in-depth awareness of the events and the life experience, which seemed impossible for a 21-year-old.

The first tide of rumours came in 1929, which led Stalin to order a special investigation. The investigation completed, Sholokhov's authorship was proved and upheld. Since the 1960s, however, there had been many attempts to disprove his authorship, most of them dissatisfactory, since they mostly included the analysis of the printed texts.

Both critique and the defense of Sholokhov's authorship were jeopardised by the disappearing of the author's manuscript. His archive was destroyed in a bomb raid during the war, and only the 4th volume has survived. The authographs of the first two volumes, however, were entrusted by Sholokhov to his friend, Vassily Kudashov, who was killed in the war. Since his death, the autograph had been looked after by Kudashov's widow, who for some reason never disclosed the fact of owning it.

The manuscript was only rescued in 1999, with the help of the Russian Government. The subsequent analysis of the novel has unambiguously proved Sholokhov's authorship. The manuscript consists of 885 A-4 pages, the writing paper dates back to the 1920s. 605 pages are in the writer's own hand, and 285 are transcribed by his wife, Maria, and his sisters. The main body of the manuscript is the draft text, which gives a unique opportunity to follow the author's work on the novel.

What prompted me to write this post, however, is not only the chance to introduce the PDF. copies of the manuscript of this genuine novel. You can browse them here. There is something more symbolic. The date on the top of the first page reads '15 November 1926', which makes it (almost) exactly 80 years since Sholokhov had begun to work on Quiet Flows the Don. And whether or not you understand enough Russian to read the text, you can still observe the author's 'workshop' below.

[This post uses the text of the address of Felix Kuznetsov at the 10th Congress of Russian Writers, 1999 (in Russian)].



[Courtesy of the Fundamental Electronic Library].

25 November 2006

Je Suis Une Polnareffienne, and I Am Proud!

This seems to be a very recent addition [and addiCtion] to the world of those who adore Michel Polnareff - a video montage of his photographs. His song 'Voyages' is used as a soundtrack. There is also this website about Michel - http://polnarevolution.skyblog.com. It is in French, but has got a page or two in English, particularly the biography page.

As for me, one of my poems is called 'Listening to Kama Sutra' (Слушая Kama Sutra/Ecoutant Kama Sutra), and it was inspired by Polnareff's song under the same name. But I will not post the translation in this post because this post is for the Amiral only!

Many thanks to the YouTube user bbabybat.

22 November 2006

To * * * (E. A. Poe)

As many readers have unanimously declared, this is everyone's favourite poem by E. A. Poe - after The Raven, of course! However, the Russian translations of which I was aware did not convey the poem's original rhythm and meter, so this became my challenge. After several different attempts I hope I succeeded. And it is a good addition to Notebooks's Literature label.


I heed not that my eathly lot
Hath little of Earth in it;
That years of love have been forgot
In the hatred of a minute.
I mourn not that the desolate
Are happier, sweet than I,
But that you sorrow for my fate,
Who am a passer-by.


Пусть слишком тяжек для Земли
Вес моего удела;
Отвергнуты года любви
В одну минуту гнева;
Пускай отчаянные все
Счастливее меня;
Жалеешь странника во мне, -
Об этом плачу я.

Julie Delvaux/Жюли Дельво
(© Julia Shuvalova 2006).




21 November 2006

Robert Altman

Several directors, with whom I've spoken, cited Robert Altman as their inspiration and teacher. Marc Rothemund, the director of the Oscar-nominated Sophie Scholl - Die letzten Tage, did not hesitate for a second, when I asked him about his favourite film directors. Robert Altman was a huge figure for him.

Robert Altman was one of the cinema giants, influencing generations of filmmakers and film aficionados. In March 2006, he'd received an Honorary Oscar from the Academy. Looking at his jovial face during the ceremony and hearing the jokes about his young heart, one would think that this recognition of his role in modern cinema was a little belated. Now, it seems to be have been just in time.

His latest Oscar-nominated drama Gosford Park was a brilliant 'whodunit' movie, but for me as a person who has always been particularly attentive to an actor's play, this film provides one of the best examples of extracting the top level performances from every single actor. The chance to forget that you are watching famous faces and to get immersed in the story of their characters is occasionally something to wish for, and Altman hardly ever failed to capture the viewer's focus.

It is a great shock to all cinema fans to know that this brilliant director has now left us. Our condolences certainly go to his family. It is probably trivial to mention that his legacy lives on and will continue to inspire actors and filmmakers. There is a strange feeling of void that comes onto you with this piece of news, and all of a sudden you feel like you have lost something yourself. In fact, you just once again realise that time never stops, but sometimes it introduces the most unexpected pause.

A Pearl of Wisdom

This is a phrase from a more or less confidential source, which means I cannot disclose the author's identity or tell you more about the context of the phrase. But if you're in for a puzzle, then here it is:

It's like making an egg without flower and cake, it's more than impossible.

It's rhythmic, it's rhymed, it's a what you call 'one-liner'. Very eloquent, eh? One thing lacks: sense.

And another one, which I'm sure I've seen somewhere on the web. I'm not sure what it referred to exactly, although I feel it might have had to do with pet grooming.

Why be a copy cat? Experience the divine canine!



18 November 2006

Exercises in Loneliness - III

Generally, I love sleepless nights. I love the time when I can read or write, without being disturbed. There is only one exception - I prefer when I am actually enjoying either writing or reading. At the moment, I'm about to embark on a very lengthy text on the topic of martyrdom in Sikhism. And although I already know and understand how the text should be written, I find it daunting to write because - God knows! - I'd prefer to write about something else. More inspiring. More creative.

To stay up in the night has never been difficult for me. I don't even know how I came to develop such ability. When I was a student, however, my mates at the Uni used to ask me (quite seriously!), what to do in order to stay awake. The question would normally rise during the exam session. I could never give any sound advice, and from what I know, they never actually stayed up.

Writing daunting texts is also nothing new. Back in 2000, I was in my third year and had been writing an essay on Soviet literature between 1925 and 1935. Or, I'd better say, I'd been trying to write such essay. I knew the topic very well, but, strangely, the knowledge had put me off writing the text. The final day of submission was 15 May. 14 May was my mother's birthday, and we had guests. They left at about 9pm, and I went to the computer. Ten hours later I had written 30 pages - exactly what was required. I took it to the tutor. A week later she told me that she absolutely loved my work and couldn't find words to express her regret that we hadn't discuss my essay in our seminar. Well... Perhaps, I'll rework it for an article one day. :))

The text I need to write now is exactly a half of those 30 pages. The topic - martyrdom - borders on history, philosophy and religion, and I'm looking at the whole of the 17th c. Of course, Asia is not Europe, but the 17th c. is not something totally inconceivable. I think it's because of him. He is Pascal Quignard. Ever since I read 'Terrace a Rome' I wanted to find and read as many of his works, as possible. I couldn't start reading, but I actually found the Russian translation of 'Tous les Matins du Monde' (All the World's Mornings/Все утра мира) and a couple of extracts from his essay 'Le Sexe et L'Effroi' (Sex and Terror/ Секс и страх). And it's because I'd rather read these works that I find it difficult to write about those Sikh martyrs.

In my life as a reader I went through a series of very intense 'love affairs' with different authors. Those whose works I most hungrily devoured were Gorky, Chekhov, Bulgakov, de Sade, Henry Miller, Maugham, Sueskind, Marquez, Llosa, and Vonnegut. Oh, yes, also Wilde, Prevert, and most Russian poets. I've got to stop here, otherwise martyrdom will be completely forgotten.

Anyway, I know what I'm going to add to my birthday/Christmas/New Year list. It's the works of Pascal Quignard. In English, French or Russian, it doesn't matter.

And an extract from one of his interviews. You can read the article in full here.



Wandering Shadows or the insecurity of thinking

I certainly was not planning to embark on anything so long, I wanted to write books that did not exceed the capacity of my head, if I can put it that way, that I could skim through panoptically. But something like a wave began to get bigger and bigger and to engulf me, as though it was saying to me "Don’t be so cautious with your own life."

Les Ombres Errantes is the book that has the greatest biographical content. It is important to me that a thought is totally involved in the life you are leading. In this book, I make clear my determination to create a hermitage within the modern world where I praise insecurity of thinking, while the societies in which we live advocate the opposite. The same thing happened at the end of the Roman Empire: in order to counter the return of religious monotheism and imperial pacification, many hermitages were created. The values that are now coming back are all the ones I detest. The return of faith terrifies me and I am filled with despair to see my own friends becoming believers and doctrinarians. We are living in 1571. This St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre atmosphere had to be described. The Wars of Religion are beginning again. Woman is being deified. Death adored. Democracy more violent and inegalitarian than in Pericles’ day. Technology, the object of all worship, and the all-pervasive cult of youth is worse than primitive - it is untamed, psychotic.

Interview conducted by Catherine Argand




16 November 2006

A Very Depressing Short Film

Apparently - to judge by some comments on YouTube - this video has affected some people profoundly. So much so that some vowed to never carve a pumpkin again. Of course, it's very likely they forget their promise by the next Hallowe'en, but in the meantime certain individuals are experiencing frustration and remorse.

The video has won the Best Short Film and Best Concept at the Chicago Horror Film Festival in October 2006, which you can check out here. The credits for the movie are:

Directed by Aaron Yonda
Voice of Pumpkin...Matt Sloan
Demon 1...Ouisia Whitaker-Devault
Demon 2...Maya Whitaker-Long
Demon 3...Carmen Prater-Bellver
Demon 4...Sara Prater-Bellver
Kidnapper 1...Nick Drake
Kidnapper 2...Aaron Yonda
Disemboweler 1...Matt Sloan
Disembowler 2...Aaron Yonda
Produced by...Erik Gunneson, Aaron Yonda
Cinematographer...Erik Gunneson
Assistant Cinematographer...Doug Chapin
Written by...Aaron Yonda, Benson Gardner
Sound Recordist...Erik Gunneson
Music By...Alpha Consumer-JT Bates, Michael Lewis, Jeremy Ylvisaker
Sound and Video Editor...Aaron Yonda
Set Design and Props...Tona Williams
Grips...Stew Fyfe, Meg Hamel, Nate Matteson, Justin Sprecher
Special Thanks...Julie Whitaker, Hermanson Pumpkin Patch, University of Wisconsin-Madison Department of Communication Arts
2006

To find out more about those responsible for making people pumpkin-friendly, visit http://www.splu.net.


Many thanks to Daniel Jones for sending the link to this video. And now it's over to you...


15 November 2006

Rupert a Cossack? Why Not?!!

So, Quiet Flows the Don has finally burst onto Russian screens, but only to attract a lot of criticism. Admittedly, everything I've heard so far has not been particularly convincing. As the article by Andrew Osborn in The Independent (12 Nov. 2006) stated, the main reason why Rupert Everett's Grigory is not being accepted by the Cossacks (or, perhaps, by the most radical of them) is the fact that he is gay (Everett, that is). A similar protestation was expressed on 12 Nov. on The Echo of Moscow radio station.

My opinion, as you might guess, is nothing similar in this case. First of all, Everett's new biography apparently commemorates the actor's intimate relationships with Susan Sarandon and Paula Yates. Osborn writes that one of the criticisms leveled against Everett is that, since he is gay, he cannot "feature in a love story", because "he doesn't know what a woman is". Well, it looks like he does, after all. Secondly, to judge an actor's potential by whom he/she spends their nights with is totally unacceptable. We're talking talent and art here, and hence sexual 'orientation' must not be used as a sole factor (especially negative) to form an opinion about someone's creative potential.


This is the only thing I would pass a comment on so far, since anything else seems to depend largely on a viewer's point of view, and I haven't got any at the moment because I’m sitting in Manchester. I'll only put up this link to an interview with Rupert Everett, which otherwise may get lost somewhere on this blog. It is in Russian, although Everett repeats certain things he's said in the past. Many thanks to the anonymous user who'd sent the link.

I must say that I approach this film very openly, at the same time I've never had any too unrealistic hopes invested in it (like with any other film), despite the fact that I’ve been looking forward to it for years. I obviously allow for the possibility that certain things will not be the way I would expect them to be, but, knowing the book well, I would try and understand why this film is the way it is.

The reason why I am being so open-minded is not simply that I am generally open-minded. The first version of Quiet Flows the Don was made in 1931, by Ivan Pravov and Olga Preobrazhenskaya. 1957 saw the second, famous version by Sergei Gerasimov. It is said that Sergei Bondarchuk had been thinking of taking his vision to screen for about twenty years, but only got the chance to do so at the turn of the 1990s. Although it is only now that his work has finally reached the audience, he had finished shooting his film in 1993.

By only looking at the dates - 1931, 1957, 1993 - one can see that what we're talking here is a truly notable case of bringing the same novel to screen by two generations of film directors (Pravov was born in 1901, Gerasimov in 1906, and Bondarchuk in 1920). Of these versions, neither could be totally unbiased or uninfluenced by the time. My argument is simple: rather than in direct comparison to the previous films, one should view the current version of Quiet Flows the Don in the context of Sholokhov’s novel, Russia’s ever-changing political and cultural climate, and Bondarchuk’s own legacy. There are bound to be changes in our reading of Quiet Flows the Don now, in comparison to even the early 1990s. And it is very unlikely that the changes in Russia's political climate from the 1960s until the 1990s would not have impacted Bondarchuk’s own reading of Sholokhov's novel.


Now, anyone living in Russia and receiving the ‘Kultura’ (Culture) channel can watch the 1931 film this Friday, November 17, at 11am. This screening commemorates the centenary of the birth of the film’s leading actor, Andrei Abrikosov, whose career in cinema had started with him playing Grigory Melekhov. The article accompanying the announcement says that Abrikosov called his son Grigory (also an actor) after the novel’s protagonist.

I am glad this first film is being screened, for those viewers who’ve been watching Bondarchuk’s film and have previously seen Gerasimov’s version will now (potentially) gain full perspective of how Sholokhov’s masterpiece had been read during the 20th c. I am also hoping that perhaps Gerasimov’s version will stop – for some time, at least – being regarded as the only possible dramatization out there. One must recognize the fact that what we’ve got now is a complete manifestation of the continuity of interest in Sholokhov’s novel, and no constraints can or must be put to this. (Shall we compare this to the British, and indeed universal, obsession with Shakespeare's Hamlet?) One should therefore approach each dramatization historically, i.e. to be aware of the time when it was made because it is absolutely unlikely that time had left any version unscathed.


Also, on the film front - the Indian epic, Makhabkharata, is to begin to be filmed in 2008. Meanwhile, the director of the very successful TV series under the same name is going to write the script. He promises to embellish the Bollywood film with the special effects comparable to those in The Lord of the Rings. The TV series has been so popular that the Indian railways reportedly had to change timetables because people refused to travel during the screening of episodes. Well, while the Bollywood is planning to shoot the Indian epic, the Anglo-Saxon Beowulf is now in post-production in Hollywood. And a much awaited premiere of Russian fantasy story Wolfhound is currently being scheduled for the early 2007. Cannot all this, together with three versions of Quiet Flows the Don, be a better proof that history matters?



11 November 2006

Procession (by Jacques Prévert)

As I said in the previous post, I couldn't find the translation of Prévert's poem Cortège on the web, so I decided I would have a go at translating it. I finished one of my projects, so I had the right amount of time to immerse in the process of rendering the French text into English. I'll republish both French and Russian versions in this post, so that those who possibly know all three languages could compare the translations.


A golden oldster with a watch in grief
A labourer of England with an unskilled queen
And the workers of peace with the guardians of the sea
A hussar of cat with a paw of death
A coffee serpent with a bespectacled grinder
A tight-rope hunter with a head walker
A Meerschaum marshal with a retired pipe
A brat in tuxedo with a gentleman in undershirt
A composer of gallows with a bird of music
A spiritual collector with an advisor of cigarette butts
A sharpener of Coligny with an admiral of scissors
A nun of Bengal with a tiger of Saint Vincent de Paul
A professor of pottery with a repairer of philosophy
A controller of the Round Table with the knights of the Gas Company
A duck in Saint Helena with a Napoleon in orange sauce
An inspector of Samothrace with a Winged Victory of cemetery
A tug of many with a father of the tides
A member of prostate with an enlargement of the French Academy
A large horse in partibus with a great circus bishop
A comptroller of the Wooden Cross with a little singer of the bus
A dentist terrible with an enfant surgeon
And the general of oysters with an opener of Jesuits.

Julie Delvaux/Жюли Дельво
© Julia Shuvalova 2006



Un vieillard en or avec une montre en deuil
Une reine de peine avec un homme d'Angleterre
Et des travailleurs de la paix avec des gardiens de la mer
Un hussard de la farce avec un dindon de la mort
Un serpent à café avec un moulin à lunettes
Un chasseur de corde avec un danseur de têtes
Un maréchal d'écume avec une pipe en retraite
Un chiard en habit noir avec un gentleman au maillot
Un compositeur de potence avec un gibier de musique
Un ramasseur de conscience avec un directeur de mégots
Un repasseur de Coligny avec un amiral de ciseaux
Une petite sœur du Bengale avec un tigre de Saint-Vincent-de-Paul
Un professeur de porcelaine avec un raccommodeur de philosophie
Un contrôleur de la Table Ronde avec des chevaliers de la Compagnie du Gaz de Paris
Un canard à Sainte-Hélène avec un Napoléon à l'orange
Un conservateur de Samothrace avec une Victoire de cimetière
Un remorqueur de famille nombreuse avec un père de haute mer
Un membre de la prostate avec une hypertrophie de l'Académie française
Un gros cheval in partibus avec un grand évêque de cirque
Un contrôleur à la croix de bois avec un petit chanteur d'autobus
Un chirurgien terrible avec un enfant dentiste
Et le général des huîtres avec un ouvreur de Jésuites.

(Courtesy of http://perso.wanadoo.es/joan-navarro/tigre/tigre5/prevert.htm).



Скорбящие часы с золотым стариком
Потная королева с английским ломовиком
И труженики мира со стражами моря
Надутый эскадрон с индюком смерти
Очковая мельница с ветряной змеей
Канатный охотник с плясуном за черепами
Пенковый маршал с трубкой в отставке
Дитя во фраке с джентльменом в пеленках
Сочинитель сволочи с последней музыкой
Собиратель лиц с духовными окурками
Уличный адмирал с точильщиком флота
Бенгальская монашка с католическим тигром
Профессор по фарфору с художником по философии
Инспектор Круглого Стола с рыцарями Газовой Компании
Утка под Ватерлоо с Наполеоном под соусом
Самофракийская крыса с церковной Никой
Крестный буксир с морским отцом
Член простаты с гипертрофией Французской академии
Приходская лошадка с цирковым священником
Контролер на похоронах с плакальщиком в автобусе
Вопящий хирург с ребенком-дантистом
И магистр улиток с поедателем Ордена кармелиток.

(Courtesy of http://anch.info/reader/french_poetry/prevert/)


A few comments on the translation. Although Prévert''s poem is seemingly absurd, its play on words is sometimes exemplary in re-discovering of some familiar idioms or collocations. I tried, for the most part, to remain faithful to the text, except for when I decided to translate 'dindon de la farce' as 'cat's paw', actually reversing it, to make it 'a paw of cat', so that to mix it with 'hussard de la mort'. I also reversed the parts of the second line, because in the French text one can find some occasional (and mostly acoustic) rhymes, so I tried to do just that in the English text.

Also, in the line

Un contrôleur à la croix de bois avec un petit chanteur d'autobus

Prévert refers to Les Petits Chanteurs a la Crois de Bois, a boy choir that was founded in 1906 and exists until this day. As a matter of fact, this reference is omitted in Russian translation.

'Bespectacled serpent' is, of course, a cobra; 'gibier de potence' is translated as 'a gallow bird'. 'Un grand eveque in partibus' is a bishop of the see that doesn't actually exist or is situated in the 'unchristian' part. In partibus is an abridgement of in partibus infidelium (Latin), i.e. in the lands of the unfaithful. Vincent de Paul is a well-known Catholic saint, who devoutedly supported and founded various charities, some of which continue to exist. His name is widely known in the West, including America, which is why I left a reference to him in the text. 'Admiral of Coligny' is Gaspard de Coligny, whose brutal assassination was one of the acts of the dance macabre of St. Bartholomew's Night of 1572.

10 November 2006

Sur Jacques Prévert

Alors, here are several sites on one of my favourite poets (or my favourite, par excellence), Jacques Prévert. Hommage a Jacques Prévert is predominantly in French and may provide a good start for those who are just discovering the pearls of his genuine talent. The site has also got a section called 'Prévert en musique' (Prévert in music), which contains the recordings of several songs. Helas, it doesn't have the recording of 'Les feuilles mortes' (The autumn leaves/Осенние листья), sung by the adorable Yves Montand. As a matter of fact, almost five years ago I was searching all over Moscow for a CD or an audio cassette with Yves Montand's songs, and only managed to find one (it did have 'Les feuilles mortes', though). This very song inspired Serge Gainsbourg to write his 'La Chanson de Prévert', which I really love for its melancholy. Back to the Hommage a Jacques Prévert, I quite like 'Charmes de Londres'. The site has also got a forum, which is regularly visited, and which you may wish to join.

Another site, in French, is called La Poesie Que J'Aime (The Poetry That I Love), and is in fact a marvellous resource. It's got author's profiles, an impressive links list, a forum, but - most importantly, for us - it has got a lot of poems by Jacques Prévert, one of which I'll post below.

Finally, this website, called Jacques Prévert: Oeuvre Complete (Jacques Prévert: The Collected Work), doesn't actually have his poems, but is otherwise impressive, containing the bibliography of his works and his bio-bibliography. It has also got this lovely photo, which I had to post here.

Pablo Picasso and Jacques Prévert (courtesy of http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Academy/5520/)


Finally, a poem, called Cortège (Procession/Шествие), which, I'm sure, you'll like just as much as I do. Unfortunately, I couldn't find its English translation, so I'll follow this post up in the near future with my own rendering of this poetic phantasmagory. At the moment, you can enjoy it in either French or/and Russian.


Un vieillard en or avec une montre en deuil
Une reine de peine avec un homme d'Angleterre
Et des travailleurs de la paix avec des gardiens de la mer
Un hussard de la farce avec un dindon de la mort
Un serpent à café avec un moulin à lunettes
Un chasseur de corde avec un danseur de têtes
Un maréchal d'écume avec une pipe en retraite
Un chiard en habit noir avec un gentleman au maillot
Un compositeur de potence avec un gibier de musique
Un ramasseur de conscience avec un directeur de mégots
Un repasseur de Coligny avec un amiral de ciseaux
Une petite sœur du Bengale avec un tigre de Saint-Vincent-de-Paul
Un professeur de porcelaine avec un raccommodeur de philosophie
Un contrôleur de la Table Ronde avec des chevaliers de la Compagnie du Gaz de Paris
Un canard à Sainte-Hélène avec un Napoléon à l'orange
Un conservateur de Samothrace avec une Victoire de cimetière
Un remorqueur de famille nombreuse avec un père de haute mer
Un membre de la prostate avec une hypertrophie de l'Académie française
Un gros cheval in partibus avec un grand évêque de cirque
Un contrôleur à la croix de bois avec un petit chanteur d'autobus
Un chirurgien terrible avec un enfant dentiste
Et le général des huîtres avec un ouvreur de Jésuites.

(Courtesy of http://perso.wanadoo.es/joan-navarro/tigre/tigre5/prevert.htm).



Скорбящие часы с золотым стариком
Потная королева с английским ломовиком
И труженики мира со стражами моря
Надутый эскадрон с индюком смерти
Очковая мельница с ветряной змеей
Канатный охотник с плясуном за черепами
Пенковый маршал с трубкой в отставке
Дитя во фраке с джентльменом в пеленках
Сочинитель сволочи с последней музыкой
Собиратель лиц с духовными окурками
Уличный адмирал с точильщиком флота
Бенгальская монашка с католическим тигром
Профессор по фарфору с художником по философии
Инспектор Круглого Стола с рыцарями Газовой Компании
Утка под Ватерлоо с Наполеоном под соусом
Самофракийская крыса с церковной Никой
Крестный буксир с морским отцом
Член простаты с гипертрофией Французской академии
Приходская лошадка с цирковым священником
Контролер на похоронах с плакальщиком в автобусе
Вопящий хирург с ребенком-дантистом
И магистр улиток с поедателем Ордена кармелиток.

(Courtesy of http://anch.info/reader/french_poetry/prevert/)

07 November 2006

...Won't You Please, Please...

... exactly, HELP ME! Under the work load this is the song that comes to mind, and I found this rare video on YouTube (thanks to modcentric, whose blog you can read). On modcentric's account on YouTube there is also a wonderful video of the Awesome Four eating fish&chips, while also singing I Feel Fine. The video is called The Beatles Fish & Chips Intertel Video.

Back to HELP, my Irish neighbour, a musician, has always been saying that this song affected him a lot in his youth because it sounded very sincere. As for me, I was introduced to The Beatles by my father, who was (and still is) a huge fan of Paul McCartney. The introduction took place in about 1990, when I didn't know English half as well as I do now. The first two albums he gave me to listen to were recorded on an audio cassette, A Hard Day's Night on side A, and Let It Be on side B. And I vividly recall trying to log the lyrics of the song I Me Mine, literally pressing my ear against the tape recorder. Like I said, I knew very little English then, which is why I couldn't make out most of the song.

Of course, I listened to a lot of music during my school years, but The Beatles have had the decisive influence. I was the best pupil in my year, and everyone thought I spent days and nights studying. Little did they know that I used to do away with my homework as quickly as possible, sometimes even forgetting about it and leaving it until late in the evening. What I did instead was turning the tape recorder on as soon as I'd get home from school. There is no wonder therefore that I knew all Beatles' albums by heart by the time I went to the University.

However, my favourite Beatle has always been John Lennon. I loved his talent, his music, his lyrics, his appearance, and that has never had anything to do with the fact that I was born on December 9, 1980. [My looking all over Moscow for round specs did, though]. I do regret slightly that Imagine has become so popular because, I think, people occasionally begin to take it as a commonplace. And, yes, there is a lot of idealism about Lennon, but now and again I find myself thinking things many people would not share. So, in his words, 'you may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one'.

Anyway, enjoy the movie, and I'll get back to my work...


05 November 2006

A Day in the Life with the Blue Lyre

Yes, there was a post under such title already on this blog, but, since I've taken part in the History Matters campaign and my entry has been uploaded to their page, I thought I would post it here, too. You can read as many other entries, as you wish, by clicking here. I've got to say, some comments are totally amazing, especially those written by children.

You will notice that my 'one day in history' is anything, but down-to-earth. There's no mention of how I brushed my teeth, 'dragged the comb across my head', and, since it was my day-off, I spent it at home. I noted what I had for tea, however. The major part of the entry is dedicated to my recalling of what I did in terms of reading, thinking and writing. I shall explain, why I did so. As you know, I am an historian, and for years I've been researching into intellectual history, or history of ideas (very broadly speaking). This field borders on both philosophy and art, which is one of the reasons why it fascinates me so much. Consequently, I jotted down, as briefly and clearly as possible, what I thought and felt on October 17th, 2006. What you're reading, therefore, is a writer's alienating themselves from their ideas and occupations and looking at these through an historian's specs.

So, this is a retrospective view of one single day, 17th October 2006.


When I was an adolescent and tried to write a diary, I hated it. But recently I began to write a blog, and I am actually enjoying it. However, I don’t write about commonsensical things there. For this reason I’ll only briefly mention such unimportant details, as my getting up at 10am (because the 17th was my day-off, and the night before I stayed up late); having breakfast; checking my email; having lunch later on; then boiling chicken breasts and eating one of them for tea; and eventually going to bed. I don’t boil chicken breasts every day, and I don’t get up at 10am every day, but the rest I am doing day-in, day-out.

I have always been attracted to history, even before I went to study it. History was always linked to philosophy and art, and was about people, what and how they think and feel, and why. The arts, especially literature, have been my main interest and preoccupation since I was 6, so I ended up as a specialist in intellectual history. Back in 1997, in Moscow, and wanting to be a writer, I went to read History to gain the knowledge of life (in the broadest sense) and to generate my understanding of it, so I would have something to write about. Gradually I began to discover and sometimes to face the memories of my own past. Thinking about it, this is exactly what historians do – they collect information from elsewhere, whilst waiting for the archives to be opened. I don’t know exactly what has opened my archives, but perhaps I just forgot about it now?

This is what I thought on October 17. What did I feel? I felt love. Around that date I was in love with ‘Terrace in Rome’ by Pascal Quignard. The book was short enough to be swallowed in a couple of hours, but sometimes it is short or simple pieces that mesmerise you and touch your very core. Having finished it, I spent the next two days in a state close to cathartic. Even now I am not completely over it. For me as an artist, it is essential that I am in love, as love, whether shared or unrequited, is the source of inspiration. There is nothing particularly original about this view. Likewise, love doesn’t have to be associated with any particular person; the object of love can be a late writer or a book. Love in this case is a mixture of empathy, fantasy and passion, neither of which needs to be directly expressed or fulfilled. But it is essential that such object exists in my life, as something that attracts, challenges, inspires, and ultimately changes me. I don’t think, however, that love is a fleeting feeling; after all, I am faithful to my art.

In the afternoon I found an article about one classic Russian film, which I subsequently blogged. I’ve also posted an announcement on my blog (Notebooks) about this campaign. Later in the afternoon I received a totally unexpected email from a fellow artist. It mentioned his interview in The Wire; I found a couple of tracks on The Wire website and thought that ‘Lords of Fear’ was especially interesting.

In the evening I was again pondering on how to rewrite a cycle of poems that I composed in 2001. The cycle was called (and still is) ‘The Blue Lyre’, but its structure and form are to be totally changed. The main theme of the cycle is the formation of a poet, and in accordance with my plans, I wrote a rondeau. I never force myself to write, and I don’t quite believe in the ‘nulla dies sine linea’ adage. The world and the art, and my feelings for and thoughts about them, compel me, which is why I sometimes stay up in the night. But on October 17 I didn’t.



To see the corresponding entrances, so as to refresh your memory, you can go to the following links: the campaign and the article that I blogged, and the track that I listened to.

I'll tell a tiny bit more about this cycle. Upon my word, I don't know why I decided to call it 'The Blue Lyre'. I think, generally, the explanation is pretty simple, and you can have a go at deciphering it. The rondeau I mentioned is a lovely Renaissance poetic form, and in the cycle it tells the story of the poet being warned against falling under the Lyre's spell, for it makes everyone who follows it unhappy. But the poet eventually joins the Lyre's retinue, whilst realising that he will be unhappy either with her or without her. The refrain of this rondeau is 'I have always been told' ("Мне всегда говорили"), and this is what it reads like in Russian:


Мне всегда говорили: «Не слушай, когда,
Из небесных пределов спускаясь, звезда
Призывать в свою свиту тебя станет нежно, -
«Не желаю и знать!» - отвечай безмятежно».

«Коль примкнешь к ее свите волшебной, тогда
В бесконечной нужде проведешь ты года,
За одною настигнет другая беда,
Будешь плакать над долей своей безутешно», -
..............................................Мне всегда говорили.


Так ночей моих скудных прошла череда, -
И, за Синею Лирой уйдя навсегда,
Обещанье покоя отринув мятежно,
Понял я: буду с нею страдать неизбежно,
Без нее же счастливым не быть никогда, -
.............................................Мне всегда говорили.

Julie Delvaux/Жюли Дельво
(© Julia Shuvalova 2006)



The reason why I decided to rework the cycle is because, with years, I saw many possibilities that the topic and title have offered. These possibilities could not be seen in 2001, so five years later I got back to it, and (hopefully) I am content with it this time.

Still, a bientot!

01 November 2006

A bientot!

No, I'm not leaving anywhere, but I will be very very busy throughout the first half of November, whereby I might not have time or chance to write anything here. So, I decided I'd post some news and musings, as I may have to disappear until after the 13th.

It's finally getting cold in Manchester. As I wrote previously, I'm not the most energy-efficient person in the world, thanks to my cold blood. At the moment I feel very very cold, despite the fact that I'm fairly well dressed. The problem, I should note, is that the room where I'm sitting is on the northern side of the building, hence there's no sunlight. Does cold weather make me feel like I'm at home in winter? Positively so, especially because, as I'm told, it's been snowing in Moscow already.

I'll be working non-stop in the next two weeks, doing a lot of research and writing. I actually enjoy such hectic times, especially if a lot of information is coming my way, and I can learn new things. Then it'll be the time for me to find a day to visit London. Unfortunately, it is unlikely to happen during the Atlantic Waves festival. It is definitely unlikely to happen on the 25th, when Thomas Koener, Victor Gama, Max Eastley, Asmus Tietchens, Z'Ev, David Maranha and Robert Rutman are performing at St Giles Cripplegate in Barbican. You can read more about this night of musical improvisation, on the festival's website, or in November's issue of The Wire (on sale now). I'm hoping, though, that either big channels, like the BBC, may feature it, OR it may appear on YouTube, providing the organisers and artists grant their permission. From what I know and read about the line-up for the night, it's worth being recorded and transmitted.

However, whenever I go to London, I'll have time to visit these two exhibitions at the Victoria and Albert Museum. Both are dedicated to Renaissance Italy, one to the Italian household of the time, and another - to one the Titans of Renaissance, Leonardo il Magnifico, commonly known as Leonardo da Vinci. The exhibition features an aircraft model after his drawings.

The online features of At Home in Renaissance Italy include a section on music, where you may find some delightful pieces, played on the lyra di braccio, lute, harp, and harpsicord. I cannot help recommending two pieces from the mid-16th c. in which I am a specialist, Canone by Francesco da Milano (1548) and Divisions of Arcadelt's O felici occhi miei by Diego Ortiz (1553). I had a post on The LOOK group about Renaissance music, which you may wish to check out, it contains some interesting links and an extract from a song called Dilla da l'aqua.

Another small disappointment is that the Russian TV series of Quiet Flows the Don is now complete and the first episode will be screened on November 7. They say, you can't have it all. I cannot have Rupert Everett and the night of musical improvisation, but I can have Leonardo at home in Renaissance Italy. Quid pro quo, eh? ;-)

And, of course, November 5th is coming up this weekend. I have to say, where I live, we had a very calm Halloween, with no trick-or-treaters knocking on the door. But there were fireworks, and I expect something window-breaking on the 5th. A story goes with that. Four years ago I was coming to Manchester, and across the isle on the plane sat three people who took the same flight with me from Moscow. Because the airport authorities were afraid that some rascals might try and target the planes with the fireworks, they ordered an abrupt landing. So instead of landing gradually, the aircraft literally dropped down. Immediately as the engines had stopped, one of my compatriots was on the phone to his family. Last thing I heard him saying before I left the salon, was:

'Oh, yes, we're OK. Yes, we've just fallen. No, of course, we landed, but it was like we've fallen down'.

Finally, one of my favourite photos by Brassai and one of my favourtie photos, in general. I adore his plan and perspective on this nocturnal shoot. Hopefully, you'll like it, too.




Update: thanks to another Russian aficionado of Quiet Flows the Don, we've now got the date of release of the film on DVD. It's 9 November, exactly one month before my birthday. The cover apparently looks like this:

And I can't help it, I've got to put up this photo from the film, which has got two of the leading actors, who - incidentally - are in the short list of my favourite actors: Andrei Rudensky and Rupert Everett. The links take you to their fan websites, although the Russian website is in Russian only.