PAINTING WITH SMALL TOUCHES – Georges Seurat: capture the light, to draw emotions
GEORGES SEURAT 1/4 – Even as a child he loves to paint, but will be an uncle and a sculptor men that will transform the nature of creativity. He attended the Ecole des Beaux-Arts, but it is a book – the contrast of colors – what defines his artistic horizon. For him, the lack of detail, and the immobility of …
Read More »WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY: – Circles in the water, by Francoise Hardy
DES RONDS DANS L’EAU Tu commenças ta vie, tout au bord d’un ruisseau. Tu vécus de ces bruits, qui courent dans les roseaux, qui montent des chemins, que filtrent les taillis. Les ailes du moulin, les cloches de midi soulignant d’un sourire, la chanson d’un oiseau. Tu prenais des plaisirs, à faire des ronds dans l’eau. Aujourd’hui tu ballottes, dans …
Read More »EVENING HARMONY: Poetry, by Charles Baudelaire
HARMONIE DU SOIR Voici venir les temps où vibrant sur sa tige. Chaque fleur s’évapore ainsi qu’un encensoir; Les sons et les parfums tournent dans l’air du soir; Valse mélancolique et langoureux vertige! Chaque fleur s’évapore ainsi qu’un encensoir; Le violon frémit comme un cÅ“ur qu’on afflige; Valse mélancolique et langoureux vertige! Le ciel est triste et beau comme un …
Read More »MILVIA BOTTICELLI, ITALIAN PAINTER: Female figures painted, one by one, make up the objective reality of the female universe
WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY: I stay here, by Ornella Vanoni
IO MI FERMO QUI Come un sasso che l’acqua tira giù, io mi perdo nel blu degli occhi tuoi. La mia libertà io non la voglio più, io amo il bianco e tu sei candida. Sì, io mi fermo qui, qui dove vivi tu. No, più non cercherò un altro nido, ormai. Tu sei l’acqua, dopo il fuoco io non …
Read More »SOUL IN LOVE: In prose book, by Alda Merini
SOUL IN LOVE “You do not know: there are birches and night stand their roots, and you never would believe that at night the trees are walking or become dreams. Do you think that in a tree is a violin of love. Do you think a tree sings and laughs. Do you think a tree is in a crevasse and …
Read More »BE TRUE MAYBE WHAT YOU SAY: Poetry, by Carlo Porta
BE TRUE MAYBE WHAT YOU SAY It may be true what you say, that Milan is a country that puts nausea, that the air is unhealthy, wet, thick, and we are the suckers Milan. However, my dear Mr. Monsù are thirteen years I observe one thing: that when these gentlemen plant here in this pit, those blessed roots, not washed …
Read More »THE COLORS OF INNOCENCE: Beppe Francesconi, the places where the sun does not wake up and where you observe the Moon and stars in the daytime
BEPPE FRANCESCONI 1/4 – He was born in 1961 and lives in Italy, in Marina di Massa, where reigns the blue and all shades donated by Sun. By painting, he tells you about places where the sun does not want to wake up, and where moon stars are seen even in daylight. Looking at his paintings, you go into a …
Read More »