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30/05/2018

The film "Bury me behind the plinth" (2009)

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The film "Bury me behind the plinth" (2009)




Director: Sergey Snezhkin Cast: Alexander Drobikko, Svetlana Kryuchkova, Alexey Petrenko, Maria Shukshina, Konstantin Vorobiev

About the film: A film based on the story of the same name Michael Cheval art

by Pavel Sanayev. 8-year-old Sasha Savelyev is constantly ill and lives with his grandparents. Those do not trust the boy's upbringing of his "dissolute daughter, who exchanged the child for a dwarf bloodsucker and hung a heavy cross over her grandmother's neck." Granny gave herself to the process of caring for her grandson with all possible passion, literally "strangling" the child with her love, which in time more and more resembles a sophisticated tyranny ... The Soviet reality of one family is shown bitingly, with cruel psychological scenes. Do not wish anyone such black comedies-dramas in real life, and even more so for children ..

28/05/2018

Richard Wagner - Piano Sonata in A flat, WWV 85

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Richard Wagner - Piano Sonata in A flat, WWV 85. With the upcoming spring holiday, dear ladies!





Tannhauser: On the eve of the spring holiday I propose to listen to the familiar melodies of Richard Wagner ... I prepared not a large selection of portraits of women who occupied a special place in the life of the composer ... Who knows the biography of R. Wagner knows that he had no real love interests in his life so many ... Three ladies of the heart are represented on this page ... I added portraits of Princess Paulina Metternich, who prepared the part for the opera Tannhäuser, the granddaughter and great-granddaughter of Richard Wagner. And this "exposition" begins with a small portrait of the woman who gave a life Elika composer ... Once again, a Happy holiday, dear ladies! Health, love, all the best! Love music ... And she will answer you with kindn Martin Beaupré paintings for sale

ess ...) See you ...



The aphorisms of R. Wagner on music, art, life:



Mother R. Wagner, Johann



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Music can not think, but it can embody thought



The first wife of Richard Wagner Minna Glider

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Princess Pauline Metternich

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Art ceases to be an art, as soon as our consciousness begins to perceive it as art.



Matilda Wesendonck is the composer's muse, who inspired him to create Tristan and Isolde.

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Melody is the only form of music; without melody music is unthinkable, and music and melody are inseparable.





Cosima Wagner-List is a favorite woman and a real friend of Richard Wagner

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Since the knowledge of art has been brought to us, art itself has gone to hell.



Granddaughter of the composer Venus Wagner

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The creator of the artistic work of the future is none other than the artist of the present time.



Great-granddaughter of Richard Wagner, Katarina - true Valkyrie ...)

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What can not be true for the present time, it will not be for the future either.



Wagner's Hymn of Love - drama "Tristan and Isolde"

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Joy is not in things. It is in ourselves.

Outside life, the worthy art must perish.



Nicholas Roerich - Tristan Castle (Sketch of the scenery for the opera "Tristan and Isolde" by R Wagner)

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I am convinced that there are universal streams of Divine thought vibrating the ether everywhere and that anyone who can feel these vibrations is inspired.

When the human speech ceases for a little while, the art of music begins.



Richard Wagner in Venice ... The latest chords ...

Tannhauser: Aphorisms took here: http: //www.aphorismy.ru

21/05/2018

Stranger - The poem by Alexander Blok

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This poem brought incredible fame to the author


"Stranger". The poem by Alexander Blok

The poem brought incredible fame to the author - the youth began to call Blok their idol, and the ladies of the half-light took the fashion to wear hats with ostrich feathers and to appear as Strangers.



May 7, 1906 Alexander Blok wrote one of his most famous poems - "Stranger". It happened in the suburbs of St. Petersburg - Ozerki, where the poet was spending his time in the station's restaurant. The vulgarity and routine of the tavern, and indeed of the surrounding world as a whole, Blok contrasted the image of an ideal woman - a mysterious stranger in a hat with ostrich feathers and in silks that "breathes spirits and fogs". However, many took Blok's neznakomka for the lady of the half-light, who was in the restaurant in search of a companion for the night - and the "real" ladies of the half-light, contemporary of the poet, began to imitate the glorified in the verses to "colleague": "the priestesses of love" wore hats with feathers and, coming up to young people, seemed to be Strangers.







In the evenings over restaurants

Hot air is wild and deaf,

And he rules drunken shouts

Spring and pernicious spirit.



In the distance, above the dust of the lane,

Over the boredom of suburban dachas,

Slightly golden pretzel pretzel,

And a child's cry is heard.



And every evening, behind the barriers,

Breaking the pots,

Among the ditches are walking with the ladies

The tested wits.



The oars rivage over the lake,

And a woman's squeal is heard,

And in the sky, accustomed to everything,

The disc is pointless.



And every evening is the only friend

In my glass is reflected

And moisture is tart and mysterious,

As I am, I am humble and deaf.







And next to the neighboring tables

Carpenter's footmen stick out,

And drunkards with the eyes of rabbits

"In vino veritas!" * Shout.

{* - "Truth in wine!" (Lat.)}



And every evening, at the appointed hour

(Or is this just me dreaming?),

The girl's mill, seized with silks,

In a misty window moves.



And slowly, passing between the drunks,

Always without satellites, alone,

Breathing in perfume and fog,

She sits at the window.



And they are howled with ancient beliefs



Her elastic silk,

And a hat with mourning feathers,

And in the rings a narrow hand.

And a strange affinity chained,

I look at the dark veil,

And I see the beach enchanted

And an enchanted distance.



Deaf secrets are entrusted to me,

To me someone's sun is handed,

And all the souls of my bend

Pierced the tart wine.



And the ostrich feathers are inclined

In my brain,

And the Andre Renoux art

blue eyes are bottomless

Blossom on the far shore.



In my soul is a treasure,

And the key is only for me!

You're right, a drunken monster!

I know: the truth is in the wine.