Wednesday, January 11, A.D. 2012

Fine Art Remakes

Christ is born!

Merry Christmas on this fifth day of the Nativity. May the Holy Innocents be ever remembered! Even adjusting for the calendar discrepancy, I have no idea why the memorial is observed on different days in the West (December 28) and in the East (December 29). Moreover, Wikipedia notes that the Syriac Orthodox Church, the Syro-Malankara Catholic Church, and Maronite Church commemorate the Innocents on December 27. Like the feast of Saint Catherine or of the Conception of the Theotokos, the date varies by a day or two.

Significantly more cheerful than slain boys is the fine art of remaking fine art. Booooooom is currently showcasing submissions that you may enjoy. Some are silly and boringly transgressive, while others are striking and impressive in their fidelity to the original, in their creative departures, and in their own manifestations of beauty. There are currently seven pages of remakes, but the number appears to continue to increase. Here are the current links:

Remake Submissions / Part I

Remake Submissions / Part II

Remake Submissions / Part III

Remake Submissions / Part IV

Remake Submissions / Part V

Remake Submissions / Part VI

Remake Submissions / Part VII

I liked the following the most:

Le Désespéré remake by Stefano Telloni (currently in Part I)—perfect.
Pot Pourri remake by Tania Brassesco and Lazlo Passi Norberto (I)—lovely.
The Beaneater remake by Mark Bass (I)—a young Matt Drudge strikes a remake pose.
Portrait of the Actress Jeanne Samary remake by Marianna Oboeva (I)—she is there.
Grande Odalisque remake by Patrick Richmond Nicholas (I)—the Ingresque meets the Delacroixian.
Bedroom in Arles remake by Joshua Louis Simon (I)—impressive copy.
Supper at Emmaus remake by Jeff Hazelden (I)—nice lighting
Nighthawks remake by Bastian Vice (I)—it captures the vibe.
David and Goliath remake by Miguel Iturbe (II)—beautifully morbid.
Self Portrait 1889 remake by Seth Johnson (II)—the Meryl Streep of art remakes.
Girl reading a letter by an open window remake by Wanda Martin (III)—lovely, but a sad reminder of a lost art.
Man in a red turban remake by Ryan Halliwill (III)—I love the color and the light.
The Girl With The Pearl Earring remake by Sarah McCollum (III)—I love this series, but this one gets a nod for its humanity.
The Girl With The Pearl Earring remake by Sybille de Chavagnac (III)—But this one wins; it startles me . . . gorgeous remake.
Narcissus remake by Marco Serina (III)—most of the nude reinterpretations are often silly, but this one works beautifully.
Narcissus remake by Shmu James Levine (III)—excellent reflection.
Narcissus remake by Max Zerrahn (III)—quite faithful.
The Incredulity of Saint Thomas remake by Cope Amezcua (IV)—lovely with good lighting.
Dance remake by Samantha Madonik (IV)—it conveys the pagan energy superbly.
The Death of Marat remake by Christian Strevy (V)—striking . . . bravo!
The Infanta Margarita of Austria remake by Jessica Rossi—props for comedic value.
Violon d’Ingres remake by Lujian Zeta Zee (VI)—excellent.
Arachne remake by Eugenia Blanc (VI)—I love the light upon the skin . . . beautiful.
Madame X remake by Emily Kiyomi (VI)—it captures the spirit of the original well.
St. Rose of Lima remake by Genevieve Blais (VI)—uncanny approximation of that sort of pious art.
St. Francis in Ecstasy remake by Nicola Bailey (VI)—I am not usually a fan of the ironic, but I love the phone.
Boy with a basket of fruit remake by Guido Ricci (VI)—impressive.
Marta e Maddalena remake by Guido Ricci (VI)—most impressive.
San Giovanni Battista remake by Massimiliano Vermi (VI)—kudos, but perhaps less pulchritude and more gravity is appropriate for the subject matter . . . and the croton is too much.
Self-Portrait 1629 remake by Matt Martens (VII)—not bad.
New York City, 1956 remake by Kelly Culhane—not a good copy, but still an evocative photograph.
Loie Fuller in La danse blanche remake by Charlotte Doran Davies (VII)—beautiful.
Portrait of Leonora Carrington remake by Srge Miranda—I love the woman’s intensity.
Young Woman Escaping remake by Alma and Ed (VII)—very fun.
Salon des Cent 1896 remake by Charlotte Davies (VII)—it keeps the sensuality, but it lacks the ethereal quality of the original.
Le Baiser remake by Sybille de Chavagnac (VII)—ambitious.
Two Cherubs remake by Bri Hammond—somewhat sacrilegious, but charming.
Starry Night over the Rhone remake by Breno Rodrigues (VII)—clever.
Portrait of a Lady remake by Sara Huneke (VII)—another excellent presentation of personality.

If it is not apparent, I am a sucker for lighting. One of my favorite paintings is Georges de la Tour’s The Repentant Magdalen. Online pictures do not do it justice, as is always the case. Make sure to see it if you are ever at the National Gallery of Art.

Posted by Joseph on Wednesday, January 11, A.D. 2012
Painting • (0) Comments • Permalink

Monday, January 9, A.D. 2012

Kontakion of the Nativity

Christ is born!

Here is the Russian Cathedral Choir of Paris singing the kontakion for the feast of the Nativity:

Here are the troparion and some other hymns specific to the feast by an unknown choir:

Monachos has the texts for various hymns.

Troparion of the Nativity:

Thy Nativity, O Christ our God,
Hath shone upon the world the light of knowledge;
For thereby, they that worshipped the stars
Were taught by a star
To worship Thee, the Sun of Righteousness,
And to know Thee, the Dayspring from on high.
O Lord, glory be to Thee!

Kontakion of the Nativity:

Today the Virgin giveth birth
To Him who is above all being,
And the earth offereth a cave
To Him whom no man can approach.
Angels with shepherds give glory,
And magi journey with a star.
For our sake is born a young Child,
The Pre-eternal God!

Posted by Joseph on Monday, January 9, A.D. 2012
Liturgical Music • (0) Comments • Permalink

Friday, January 6, A.D. 2012

Thus Saith Yeats

I would like to wish everyone who follows the old calendar a lovely Christmas Eve today and a very merry Christmas tomorrow.

For those on the new calendar, may you have a blessed Epiphany today.

It is fitting to offer something mirthful on the feast, but I give you rather something sadly humorous. Last week, I found Eric Metaxas’ “Does Anyone in the Media Ever Read the Bible?” on Fox News. Metaxas recounts various episodes of shocking biblical illiteracy, including a remarkable example from George Whitman’s obituary in The New York Times:

“[George] welcomed visitors with large-print messages on the walls. ‘Be not inhospitable to strangers, lest they be angels in disguise,’ was one, quoting Yeats.”

Yeats!? Did you catch that? I choked on my toast. Did the Times actually just say that “Be not inhospitable to strangers, lest they be angels in disguise” was from Yeats? Unless I had fallen down a rabbit hole, that quote was from the Bible. It’s from Hebrews 13:2 and it’s quite famous. If you didn’t catch it, don’t feel too badly, because you are probably not The New York Times. You are probably not America’s “paper of record”, proud owner of 106 Pulitzer Prizes in Journalism—more than any other newspaper. You probably don’t have squadrons of fact-checkers on your payroll.

I still couldn’t believe what I’d just read, so I kept reading, looking for some explanation. There was none. I then shook the paper to make sure I was reading an actual newspaper, and not, say, an email forward from an aged friend. Nope. This really was the New York Times, the Old Grey Lady, whose motto was “All the News that’s Fit to Print.” And let’s face it, if W.B. Yeats was the real author of the Bible’s “Book of Hebrews,” that really would be big news!

I often express to family and friends how surprised I am by widespread scriptural ignorance, especially in the young. Even Protestant youngsters are clueless. It is no wonder that apostasy is so rampant. Christian parents are failing miserably to raise their children in the faith.

The world is going to hell in a handbasket, but let me rescue this post from too much despair—or at least philistine despair. To tie together the feasts celebrated today, East and West, with the hallowed inspiration of the Irish Bard, here is “The Magi”:

Now as at all times I can see in the mind’s eye,
In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied ones
Appear and disappear in the blue depth of the sky
With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones,
And all their helms of silver hovering side by side,
And all their eyes still fixed, hoping to find once more,
Being by Calvary’s turbulence unsatisfied,
The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor.

To mix further the sacred and the profane, I wonder if Yeats’ poem was one of the inspirations for U2’s “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.”

In any case, merry Christmas! Christ is born!

Posted by Joseph on Friday, January 6, A.D. 2012
Literature • (0) Comments • Permalink

Friday, December 30, A.D. 2011

Ozark Medieval Fortress

Have a good civil new year over the weekend!

At times, I delight in human beings. I just discovered the Ozark Medieval Fortress project in Arkansas, and I have another reason to visit the Natural State. The story starts with Frenchman Michel Guyot’s decision to purchase and renovate Saint-Fargeau Castle in Burgundy. He financed the rebuilding by turning the castle into a tourist destination. Guyot has assisted in helping others save derilict castles, as well. His experience in restoring castles gave him the idea of building a new castle with the technology and materials available to the castle builders of past ages. Such a project would help students of medieval architecture better understand the objects of their discipline. It is the history department’s meeting the faculties of natural philosophy, where one reproduces an experiment in the laboratory. Guyot’s lab is Guédelon, also in Burgundy. The new castle’s construction began in A.D. 1997, and Guyot’s team expects the building to take twenty-five years.

A French couple who moved to Arkansas two decades ago, Jean-Marc and Solange Mirat, decided that they wanted Guyot to establish an architectural-historical-touristy fiefdom in the Ozarks. The project started two years ago, and now one may visit, volunteer at, or become an intern for the Ozark Medieval Fortress in Lead Hill, Arkansas.

Less historically careful but still fascinating is Loveland Castle, not far from Cincinnati. I have visited “Chateau Laroche” since I was a child, and I still marvel at its wonderful weirdness. I often lament civilizational decline and the ruin of the West, and I think that my pessimism is well founded. However, remnants will always remain. A segment of mankind will always be too beautifully odd and indifferent to the masses to go along with whatever dominant development in social evolution. Whether it is a monastery in Wyoming during a new dark age or Christian settlements in Appalachia that thrive while former American cities decay in a Mad Max style apocalyptic wasteland, civilization will survive. Like seeds of mighty trees destroyed by a holocaust, pockets of the West will experience rebirth after the ruin. I still lament the impending fall, but I suppose that there is always room for justified hope. On such a note, I wish you well on every good endeavor in the new year.

Posted by Joseph on Friday, December 30, A.D. 2011
Architecture • (0) Comments • Permalink

Monday, December 26, A.D. 2011

O Holy Night

Here is “O Holy Night” sung by the choir at Liverpool’s Metropolitan Cathedral of Christ the King:

I was aghast when I saw the cathedral’s interior. Then, I discovered that it is the Roman cathedral in Liverpool, which was built in the lamentable years of the Sixties. Its design reminds me of something that one would find on Coruscant. Did the post-conciliar architects consult Ralph McQuarrie before building their temples? At least, Liverpool’s cathedral looks better than Los Angeles’ monstrosity.

Nonetheless, it heartens me that Albion’s Roman communities are keeping alive its choral traditions.

Posted by Joseph on Monday, December 26, A.D. 2011
Folk Music • (0) Comments • Permalink

Friday, December 9, A.D. 2011

Hatikvah

Given my recent trip to ארץ ישראל, I thought that I would offer the Israeli anthem, which means “the hope.” The song reminded me of one of my favorite pieces, “Vltava,” from Smetana’s Má Vlast. I discovered that both works owe some of their beauty to an Italian Renaissance tune, “La Mantovana.”

Hatikva is not as sublime as the Czech masterpiece, but it makes for a worthy anthem. You may read the poem’s words on Wikipedia.

On the long flight to Tel Aviv, I repeatedly transitioned between states of sleep and consciousness while catching glimpses of other people on the plane, hearing random conversations, and watching film sequences on personal entertainment monitors. I was particularly intrigued and confused by scenes from the neighboring monitor’s display of The Tree of Life. Then, I caught the faint sound of Smetana’s “Moldau,” and I quickly grabbed an earphone set to listen to the movie’s soundtrack. Imagine the joy of a man in a desert who happens upon a spring, and you have some idea of my psychic state at that moment.

Posted by Joseph on Friday, December 9, A.D. 2011
Folk Music • High Culture Music • (0) Comments • Permalink

Friday, September 9, A.D. 2011

Norman and Saxon

To end the fortnight of Anglophile celebration, enjoy Kipling’s homage to some of the ancestral nations of England, “Norman and Saxon”:

My son,” said the Norman Baron, “I am dying, and you will be heir
To all the broad acres in England that William gave me for my share
When we conquered the Saxon at Hastings, and a nice little handful it is.
But before you go over to rule it I want you to understand this:—

“The Saxon is not like us Normans, His manners are not so polite.
But he never means anything serious till he talks about justice and right.
When he stands like an ox in the furrow with his sullen set eyes on your own,
And grumbles, “This isn’t fair dealings,” my son, leave the Saxon alone.

“You can horsewhip your Gascony archers, or torture your Picardy spears,
But don’t try that game on the Saxon; you’ll have the whole brood round your ears.
From the richest old Thane in the county to the poorest chained serf in the field,
They’ll be at you and on you like hornets, and, if you are wise, you will yield.

“But first you must master their language, their dialect, proverbs and songs.
Don’t trust any clerk to interpret when they come with the tale of their wrongs.
Let them know that you know what they’re saying; let them feel that you know what to say.
Yes, even when you want to go hunting, hear ‘em out if it takes you all day.

“They’ll drink every hour of the daylight and poach every hour of the dark,
It’s the sport not the rabbits they ‘re after (we ‘ve plenty of game in the park).
Don’t hang them or cut off their fingers. That’s wasteful as well as unkind,
For a hard-bitten, South-country poacher makes the best man-at-arms you can find.

“Appear with your wife and the children at their weddings and funerals and feasts.
Be polite but not friendly to Bishops; be good to all poor parish priests.
Say ‘we,’ ‘us’ and ‘ours’ when you’re talking instead of ‘you fellows’ and ‘I.’
Don’t ride over seeds; keep your temper; and never you tell ‘em a lie!”

Britain and India should be very proud to have such a son.

Posted by Joseph on Friday, September 9, A.D. 2011
Literature • (0) Comments • Permalink

Wednesday, August 10, A.D. 2011

Jews at Bayreuth

The plucky Israel Chamber Orchestra has shown their eydl character by performing at the one hundredth Wagner festival in Bayreuth: “Germany opens taboo-shattering Wagner festival.” Lambasted by Wagner haters and the perennially aggrieved, the orchestra’s decision helps to chisel away further the taboo against Wagner in the Israeli community. Good for them. Wagner is celebrated for his music, not for his political opinions or for the fact that he was beloved by National Socialists generations after his death.

Posted by Joseph on Wednesday, August 10, A.D. 2011
High Culture Music • (0) Comments • Permalink

Monday, July 4, A.D. 2011

Anchors Aweigh

As a patriotic and filial tribute, I present Charles A. Zimmerman’s “Anchors Aweigh” on this Independence Day:

Thanks for serving, Dad!

Wikipedia has an article on the song’s development in naval culture.

Posted by Joseph on Monday, July 4, A.D. 2011
Folk Music • High Culture Music • Popular Music • (0) Comments • Permalink

Tuesday, June 21, A.D. 2011

Hoffnung

I wish you a merry summer solstice. Gather up some Saint John’s Wort to don as you celebrate the longest day of the year—fourteen hours, fifty-five minutes, and thirty-six seconds in Cincinnati, fourteen hours, fifty-three minutes, and forty-eight seconds in Washington, and eighteen hours, fifty minutes, and nine seconds in Saint Petersburg. Those white nights in June!

On a less joyous note, Lawrence Auster posted mixed news yesterday. He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer last June and has been undergoing treatment since. The disease is typically unrelenting, but Auster has experienced an uncommon recovery. I hope that my posts have encouraged this site’s readers to visit Auster’s View from the Right; his relatively obscure, one man blog has more insight and honesty in it than most all journals and media outfits. Please keep him in your prayers. May he have many more years to continue his work.

Given the solstice and the news about Auster, I offer a poem today from Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller, “Die Hoffnung.”

Es reden und träumen die Menschen viel
Von bessern künftigen Tagen,
Nach einem glücklichen goldenen Ziel
Sieht man sie rennen und jagen.
Die Welt wird alt und wird wieder jung,
Doch der Mensch hofft immer Verbesserung!

Die Hoffnung führt ihn ins Leben ein,
Sie umflattert den fröhlichen Knaben,
Den Jüngling begeistert ihr Zauberschein,
Sie wird mit dem Greis nicht begraben,
Denn beschließt er im Grabe den müden Lauf,
Noch am Grabe pflanzt er - die Hoffnung auf.

Es ist kein leerer schmeichelnder Wahn,
Erzeugt im Gehirne des Toren;
Im Herzen kündet es laut sich an,
Zu was Besserm sind wir geboren!
Und was die innere Stimme spricht,
Das täuscht die hoffende Seele nicht.

George MacDonald translated it into English for you Deutschensprachefürchtigen.

Men talk with their lips and dream with their soul
Of better days hitherward pacing;
To a happy, a glorious, golden goal
See them go running and chasing!
The world grows old and to youth returns,
But still for the Better man’s bosom burns.

It is Hope leads him into life and its light;
She haunts the little one merry;
The youth is inspired by her magic might;
Her the graybeard cannot bury:
When he finds at the grave his ended scope,
On the grave itself he planteth Hope.

She was never begotten in Folly’s brain,
An empty illusion, to flatter;
In the Heart she cries, aloud and plain:
We are born to something better!
And that which the inner voice doth say
The hoping spirit will not betray.

It is a happy summer day to read a pious Jock translate an impious Kraut.

Posted by Joseph on Tuesday, June 21, A.D. 2011
Literature • (0) Comments • Permalink