the great bull with its fierce eye, its head raised, its four hooves planted on the summit, at the edge of the abyss

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In painting his portrait, I paint that of his stock — our century, our dream, ourselves and our companion with the bleeding feet: Joy. Not the gross joy of the soul that gorges itself in its stable, but the joy of ordeal, of pain, of battle, of suffering overcome, of victory over one’s self, the joy of destiny subdued, espoused, fecundated… And the great bull with its fierce eye, its head raised, its four hooves planted on the summit, at the edge of the abyss, whose roar is heard above the time. […]

If he cannot do this in the world of facts, he wills it in the world of art; everything becomes for him a field on which to deploy the battalions of his thoughts, his desires, his regrets, his furies, his melancholies. […]

The hammer is not all: the anvil also is necessary. Had destiny descended only upon some weakling, or on an imitation great man, and bent his back under this burden, there would have been no tragedy in it, only an everyday affair. But here destiny meets one of its own stature, who “seizes it by the throat,” who is at savage grips with it all the night till the dawn — the last dawn of all — and who, dead at last, lies with his two shoulders touching the earth, but in his death is carried victorious on his shield; one who out of his wretchedness has created a richness, out of his infirmity the magic wand that opens the rock.

~ Romain Rolland, on Beethoven’s struggle with his loss of hearing at 28 in Beethoven the Creator

 


Notes:

Saturday Morning: Close your eyes and ears.

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Have a seat. Stretch out your legs. Close your eyes and ears. I shall say nothing for five minutes so you can think about Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. See, and this will be more perfect still, if you manage not to think in words, but rather create a state of feeling. See if you can halt the whole whirlwind and clear a space for the Fifth Symphony. It is so beautiful. Only thus will you have it, through silence. Understand! If I perform it for you, it will fade away, note by note. As soon as the first one is sounded, it will no longer exist. And after the second, the harmony will no longer echo. And the beginning will be the prelude to the end, as in all things. If I perform it you will hear music and that alone. Whereas there is a way to keep it paused and eternal, each note like a statue inside you.

~ Clarice Lispector, “Letters to Hermengardo” from The Complete Stories.


Notes:

Ode to Joy. Ode to Friday.


Source: Invisible Stories

Ode to Flavor


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Beethoven. Peanuts Gang. 1-2 Punch.

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Ludwig van Beethoven was born on this day in 1770.  Here’s Schroeder and the Peanuts gang on a Youtube video.  At 57 seconds, Snoopy comes on.  And again at 2 minutes. Impossible not to smile. [Read more…]

Sunday Morning in Sabadell

We’re sticking with the flash mob theme, riding the community spirit, the family, and the wholesomeness train – – until we drive the darkness completely out.  This clip, now seen by over 8 million on Youtube, is performed by 100 musicians and choir members from the Vallès Symphony Orchestra, the Lieder, Amics de l’Òpera and Coral Belles Arts choirs.  They play the final movement of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony in the town square of Sabadell, Spain.  Just check out the faces and the joy this event brings to the performers and the audience.  Good Sunday morning to you.


Thank you Michael for sharing this wonderful piece.  Happy Holiday to you and your family.

I was also reminded that today is Beethoven’s birthday (1770).

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