Tuesday, June 29, 2010

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Poetry does not follow the stock prices.

For Luciano

To those who knew him sporadic encounters during the exhibitions, concerts, the cinema or theater Luciano Botti seemed a nice man and well-informed about things, a person who cultivated his knowledge of topics and events, whatever the artistic field, in short, what once would have called a man of "culture". In fact, he continued to be updated constantly, the things we already knew deepened or expanded ones which began to be interested. In this attitude he is a prime example the decision a few years ago to follow the lectures on music and its history that the prof. Daniele Salvini held for the University of the Third Age in the classrooms of a middle school not far from Piazza della Repubblica. Although you know he followed with pleasure classes devoted to books (and that this specific work or on the concert of Beethoven, or Chopin) because the piece of music during the lesson was analyzed in all its technical component and with an approach from different angles and aspects. I was excited to learn the secrets of the work of the musician and the technique he used in the composition, details that were masterfully explained by the clear words of the esteemed teacher. Often returning from class stopped to see the exhibition in Gallery I and I enthusiastically re-explain what he had just learned.
But beyond all these passions had an irreplaceable quality: it was a "greedy" and a curious person who gets involved totally And deep from what I discovered. Thus was born his love for art books, those containing lithographs and engravings, to monographs on artists whose work followed, even more than buying a book or a monograph if an artist interested him. He told me often that they even stay awake, or your alarm clock at a certain time of night, to record, when he knew that the TV channels (in particular the night on TV3) were put on air services or documentaries on artists who had in its collection or he wanted to understand better the work. Or just wanted to see and own the old VHS movies that he loved very much. I have also taken advantage of these sleepless his research to ask register of old films or documentaries. Because of this passion had come to fill the whole library and the living room of VHS tapes and then DVDs.
addition to the above, as this exhibition demonstrates, he was also an avid collector of contemporary art. Sometimes compulsive in trying to acquire at least one work of an artist who impressed him even more than one, in some cases. His passions are painting passed through informal painting, from 50-60 years later than that of Italian Pop Art, to the current generations of the third millennium or more Concept of Trans-avant-garde. Luciano
Naturally, like many of Leghorn, he had to overcome the longstanding tradition of provincial "figurative" under, had passed through different stages and phases in the taste with consequences in his collection. In my opinion it was still too 'tied' to a constant: that of "representation". But better than many philological explanations or criticisms of his collection there are here in this catalog are organized by the heirs and edited by his friend Ivo Lombardi, the images of the paintings to speak and to demonstrate the quality of his choices el'oculatezza. When he began to attend my gallery, after the first half of the '70s, had a particular liking to artists of painting and graphic postwar neo-realist or the New Figuration, at that time "committed" and well regarded in both exhibitions on the market. During our conversations of those years often tried to get him to focus his eyes on the works of pre-war future of the abstract and concrete, which had exposed a couple of years ago, or on Conceptual and Minimalist that I was just stating so.
But his doubts often remain unchanged: these artists was too "cool" for its "Mediterranean" and so far from his taste. Although this did not fail to visit my exhibitions. And then continued to speak of his concerns about the strong and real, overpowering presence of a market that threatened to change the "values" both artistic and flights to many authors. Species of what he loved most. Often in our conversations we came to a standstill, with no way out: he is perched on their concerns, showing the reviews and assessments of the market at that time and claim that all this would eventually also resorted to the rediscovery of historical values and art of the past. And I, when pressed by its practical, clear arguments that I could not answer: "carefully, because poetry does not follow the stock prices." Sometimes I looked like our real and unnecessary conversations in the "sex of angels." Today I can say, in hindsight, that would be enough to wait few years to see all the surrounding art scene changed completely, with the result to account for both (sic).
But a collector, especially of contemporary works of art should be something more than the sum of the prices of works he owned. And finally it was Luciano Botti, went much further and farther ostentation of the "values" represented its economic frameworks.
Without the necessary differences in money, time and place (you can not ignore the fact that Luciano has always lived in Livorno) belonged with full rights and psychologically at that high level of behavior to which they belong all those collectors who have spent most of their lives to chase them and collect what is most passionate about art and artists. And consequently became captivated by the works is that the author, and regarded with pride every scanned object, reconstruct the reasons and motivations that have directed. Revived with the same enthusiasm or anxiety when the discovery of the work they imagined to be essential for the collection, subsiding only when we see (it would almost be said to "recognize") and allowing the economy, is finally able to "drop" in collection. And as if there were a lot of their unconscious imaginary "Library of Babel" Borges continues to to ask him to be filled, "completed" unleashing that vital energy, compulsive, difficult to control. Nothing to do with the other type of collector that is increasingly being described in articles in magazines and specialized "coated" in recent years, and therefore more topical today, one that is seeking to have the largest number of "masterpieces" to have the Top Ten charts compiled by the magazine as "in" the moment. Following such a view would be more appropriate to define those of the "investors" rather than collectors and the difference between these two positions described above, between many other, if any, lines of behavior is substantial. In one case you have the passion, obsession, to graze, maybe the "disease". In the other you have the bet (with the secret hope to cash in early), the calculation of the probability and the contemplation of their own "heritage", derived from the investment made.
In the first case the set of works is to build a collection that belongs to her own life and recalled the time when we tried and then discovered that this framework or that artist. Where, or with whom, or why and on what occasion that such work was then purchased. In short, even the moments and emotions dedicated belong to the collection is the personal sphere of life but mingle with the reasons for the existence of these works, we approach the personality that produced it and relive the historical time in which it was made. All this, taken together (intimacy) of the collection, is a "presence", a testimony of life, which becomes a "palpable", in unison with the works. Paying attention is to be found, "feel", looking at the empty space of the wall being between operations. So
a collection (like all libraries who have a right of recognition) is the same time a tool (either conscious or unconscious) of their world view, that the sympathy which we bring to other views, or at least share of search or closer to one or more world views related to us or which we let fascinate.
One of the most outstanding examples in this direction is the collection of environmental sculptures that Giuliano Gori has "built" together with the artists of his Villa Park in Celle in Pistoia.
Just visit it to understand it.
A significant detail of this attitude is when, in showing their collection, whatever the economic value or importance of history, of all the works, or what kind of "masterpiece" that hangs together with others, some collectors instead identify more readily and more as a beloved, that other work that we see beyond the apparent air discharged in a secluded corner. That work seems to have resigned to support the "masterpiece" and the "masterpiece" shares with it the era, the theme and maybe the quality. As in every story the facts are not all children seem insignificant at all, rather they are the ones that we often explain better the whole. Both are "constituted" is inseparable from the particular to the egregious facts.
Who does not feel like this essential point will then have difficulty understanding what the "story" and "culture" are two concepts whose very existence and memory has now become increasingly indispensable. Especially in a society like today that is basing all its existential values \u200b\u200bonly on the shaky foundations of money and appearances.
In concluding my paper in the dual role of promoter for some, few appearances in this collection and now in as a guest on the walls of my gallery that serves as a replacement on the walls of the house of his friend Luciano, I can only give an or at least wish to suggest the illusory assumption that such a collection rather than end up lost and forgotten, as happened with many other things in our city, may be accepted, held together and housed in a space open to the public and specialists. And maybe even further enhanced in time for a better understanding for future generations on successive cultural events in our area. Realizing this idea would not be a great waste of energy and economic, in a town that for many years and spends too much evil to preserve and protect awards, exhibitions and books, a culture that has become the ghost of itself and which, today, is not nothing left but the empty pride to declare a "product of the territory."
Collecting contemporary art is not, after all, that the art of collecting parts of memory staff included in a collective history in the making, and then lived or just passed. And, moreover, is the best way to indicate to each of us the duty to preserve the first final to be disclosed later. 29.05.2010

Monday, June 21, 2010

''toshiba,network,camera''user,login

Happiness instead of duty

................

Second song
Speeches unspeakable
I do not repeat more
But remember that
nonincontro
Rosamond a plant it.

How beamed and sang the
The miracle of our meeting, I did not want
Back
Nowhere in there ...
Amaro was dear to me
Happiness instead of duty, with whom I spoke

had not spoken at length.
stifle the passions of lovers.
demanding answers
But we, dear, only souls we
the edge of the world.

1956

Anna Akhmatova

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Kwiaty Witold Durlej Inter Dwa Gliwice Leśna















Listening to the rain beating on the window sill and windows. A ticker messy at all musical. Melancholic and at the same load of memories. This sound accompanies the silly little light filtering through the clouds up my window. A wind of memories around me. Scents, sounds and voices of those who went, but he never left my heart. The first kiss. The first trip alone. The last words of my father before his end. The first time I sailed alone. My first storm. The first hug from my son. Everything seems suddenly to provide for a hurricane of feelings. I abandon myself to it. Only a tear to keep me company

Friday, June 18, 2010

How To Whiten Canine Teeth

Shooting

Ofelia
sinking into the mud and back to mother earth.

Herself?
All?

Like a primordial creature, sinking the strands of her body in the spectrum of the cosmos.

root that turns into light -
- Parthenogenesis.

difficult to do without Your strong mark on my babbling, now that I met you.


Maybe I'm dead, or am I just dreaming.
spent all my life so,
the normal restlessness of those days.

Exit Empa, find the clue, as in a mirror

know - finally - a step closer .

All those petals were even used to something.


Ofelia
that sinks in water is not just a confused girl.

You stimulate my imagination and drag me into your world of curiosity.


These

verses have a goal. This poem



is not just a beginning.

(17-18 June 2010)

Friday, June 11, 2010

Coke College Scholarship

Poems, potatoes (another woman who reflects on the language)


........
POEMS, POTATOES

The word, defining, muzzles and the path towards
it excludes other, more nebulous and prosperous, murderess,
in structures where the verses are just imagined

spectral presences. As solid potatoes,
like stones, without conscience, speech, and to last,
if you give them space. Not a question of rudeness (though

rethinking often would take a change in
delicacy, elegance), but the fact that I
cheat more than necessary: \u200b\u200bmore

or different, continue to leave unsatisfied.
not celebrated in verse, not painted, the potato
accumulates its brown warts on this page
infinitely superior, and so the raw stone.

Sylvia Plath, 1958

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

How To Replace A Valve Cover Gasket Izuzu Rodeo

"burn while waiting for a letter." Neera, the correspondence, sometime.

great lover of the papers of the eighteenth century, by which "all those who could hold a pen in his hand," wrote the history, Neera know the use of the epistle. Among the poems that public but does not collect, it puts in five series with this title: Letter , so that when the Sormani quotes a verse of the first and she recognizes all in that "cry out in tears and sobs," says something important for the status of this correspondence.
For the reader, is the point of view from which the soul is more gradually discovered that the writer is abandoned to disorder, to evade the rules of the form. Disappears in the year date, month, even on the day, replaced by vague or precise, but time always intimate, "the same day - 5:30 am, late at night later [...] [...] once again, "" Saturday night - pre 11, "even the incipit is back and as tiny as to renew a speech:" I wanted to tell you what ...". Alberto Meanwhile, the letters become paper, foglioni , sheets, cheat sheet stuck "doi instead that" legitimize started the first ", and pieces of paper -" and so many different pieces of paper "-, just as the first verses of youth who sends him" only as a curiosity " , as they are written on the card he stole from the attic, "half sheets attached to letters of the last century, a written notarial business.



[...] The letter does not know enough to say the impossibility of being a body suffers . With the trend anxious, suspension, and twists back and forth: "Ah your words your words ... I come out from reading your pages crushed [...] the deepest impression is that of a pain burn [...] waiting for a letter ...".

[...]

The excess of women feel - the pain in joy - nell'afasia borders. The woman closed Soul Neera only borrow the words of Amiel ("I know enough to express it seems to me a few times profane"), but it's as if they were his. He met with a similar expression in the poems of idealistic Russian Tjutcev. Reading "The exprimée est déjà une pensée mensogne," writes Sormani I recall that she has already said: "Every word written is a sham." Turbatissima by such coincidence of words in one verse, he takes as a sign of destiny: "And you remember how you liked it when I read it before you know me Nobody ever told me about that line. You just .

(from Anna Folli, read Pens, Milano, Guerini, 2000, pp. 25-27.)

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Pokemon Heart Gold Desmune Config

A woman who writes is dangerous

newspapers in the hall of the Society of Culture, Gozzano Guglielminetti met Amalia, a young poet in his second book with the foolish virgins (1907), the relationship turned into love and then in a sort of "brotherhood spiritual. "

With Amalia, now sister in art, and compares Guido talks about literature and life.

Once, last year, we - Vallini Vugliano Netherlands and others - were in the room of the newspapers, you - alone - in the magazines, standing erect, his arm outstretched looking through the reviews on the table. And among us are saying these things more or less:
- It's beautiful.
- Yes, it's beautiful!
- But he writes. [...]
- and one young lady of good family and good for ...
- Yeah, they say it's for good.
- It is: I guarantee you this: I know family.
- What a pity!
- What?
- What is Miss.
- And what is right.
- What a pity: it is just beautiful!
- was at least literate.
- But write!
(from a letter to Amalia Guglielminetti, June 10, 1907)


http://www.internetculturale.it/genera.jsp?id=226