Monday, November 07, 2016

On Days Without Seasons

Today we reverted from daylight savings time.

I turned back the clock by 60 minutes, finally admitting  that summer's alert pace has disappeared, giving  way to a less rigorous and rather unpredictable stretch of time, if we are to agree with George Bacovia.


"A day without season and without military order."

    (From Sunset - by George Bacovia)

Autumn benefits from a mysterious je ne sais quoi which seems to keep in balance the past and the future without any plans for either.

  Hence, it behooves to us, on and off poetry aficionados, to decide what mindset to adopt once snowfalls begin.

Here is a possible alternative, eloquently argued by Canada's beloved author, Lucy Maud Montgomery:

"Come, for the dusk is our own; let us fare forth together,
 With a quiet delight in our hearts for the ripe, still, autumn weather, 
Through the rustling valley and wood and over the crisping meadow, 
Under a high-sprung sky, winnowed of mist and shadow."

(From November Evening by  Lucy Maud Montgomery)

The final suggestion belongs to French poet Guillaume Apollinaire:

"How bored I am between these naked walls
Painted in pale hues
A fly, in quaint and measured steps 
Digresses over my paper and its unequal lines."
(From A la Santé by Guillaume Apollinaire)

Monday, September 05, 2016

"Hiring A Clown" by M. Visniec - Toronto (September 30th, 2016) and Montreal (October 2nd, 2016)

An exciting cultural event coming to Romanian-speaking audiences in Toronto and Montreal this fall: the play "Hiring A Clown" by Matei Visniec, directed by Daniel Bucur. 

Three amazing Romanian actors: Ionel Mihailescu, Magda Catone and Paul Chiributa will be starring in a performance filled with much-anticipated  innovative theatrical moments.

Not to be missed, one of  this fall's creative highlights - Toronto (September 30th, 2016) and Montreal (October 2nd, 2016).


Sunday, April 24, 2016

400 Years Old - Gargoyles of Shakespearean Poetry - The Truant Disposition


I'm sure that quite a lot of folks have clicked today (April 23rd, 2016) on the Google main page link referencing Shakespeare. 

A momentous anniversary – four hundred years since Shakespeare’s death (on April 23rd, 1616) a crateful of words and centuries to sift through what remains one of the most enduring legacies of the human spirit.

Floors of the  Folger Shakespeare Library

It’s highly unlikely that within the span of my life I will ever get to experience another similar ‘magic’ number as it pertains to Shakespeare…hence today feels like a special milestone in my life.

And here is why.

I am lucky to have lived through this time - April 2016 - and crossed paths today with a 400 years old comet of wit and melancholy that swirls around this planet since the Bard’s passing away.

Granted, the comet - as most Shakespeare readers know - is a capricious manifestation of a  despondent aura that plays on puns and preys on our intellect with inescapable dark charm: words, words, words.

Shakespeare’s wordiness though is one of a ‘truant disposition’ – as Horatio might talk of it (in Hamlet) - and it brings about some memorable, 400 years old poetic gargoyles:

"Looking on darkness which the blind do see:
Save that my soul's imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,
Makes black night beauteous and her old face new."

                            -   from Sonnet XXIVII

I call such aggregations of intense and dizzying metaphors Shakespearean gargoyles, an incessant gurgling of ideas and images which continue to flood our imagination and to haunt us after we've absorbed them.

In a previous post I likened Shakespeare’s inclination to insert an episode of fantastic poetry in a dramatic scene with a gargoyle-like spouting mechanism, a relief valve meant to balance the tension in the play - a slight variation on the Shakespearean gargoyle theme.

Whatever figment of imagination a Shakespeare verse may invoke for you on this four century long month of April 2016, take solace in it.

“For we, which now behold these present days,
Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.”

                             -   from Sonnet CVI

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