Monday, October 30, 2006

Έντεκα (αγαπημένοι πίνακες #9: Vincent Van Gogh - Starry Night)

Επιλογή των alkistis και isiliel.

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Vincent Van Gogh - The Starry Night, 1889

"Ελπίζω ότι θα καταστρέψεις όσους πίνακες είναι πολύ κακοί (απ' αυτούς που σου έστειλα). Όσο για την έκθεση των Independants (...) μην βάλεις κανέναν πολύ τρελό μου πίνακα, ας πούμε το Starry Night και τον άλλο με το τοπίο στην κορνίζα από ξύλο καρυδιάς. Τα χρώματά αυτών των δύο κάνουν αντίθεση, και μπορεί να κάποιος να μου πάρει την ιδέα και να κάνει τα νυχτερινά 'εφέ' πολύ καλύτερα από μένα." [Αυτά έγραφε ο Van Gogh τον Ιούνιο του 1889 στον αδερφό του. Τελικά το Starry Night θα έβλεπε το φως της δημοσιότητας λίγο καιρό μετά, κι όμως, παρά την ανασφάλειά του ζωγράφου, κανείς δεν θα μπορούσε να ξεπεράσει τα νυχτερινά του 'εφέ'.]

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*Ένα ακόμη γράμμα του Vincent στον αδερφό του Theo (Οκτώβριος 1888), από το βιβλίο The Letters of Van Gogh του Mark Roskill.
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**Don McLean - Starry Starry Night (Vincent)
*** Δύο βίντεο: stoned at vangogh // Tribute to Van Gogh

5 comments:

enteka said...

Don Mc Lean
Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.

Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...

Παπαρούνα said...

μπορεί να σε ενδιαφέρει κι αυτό:
http://paparouna.blogspot.com/2006/05/blog-post_11.html

enteka said...

όντως, με ενδιέφερε :)
ευχαριστώ

Ιφιμέδεια said...

Υπέροχο!!!!!

Anonymous said...

steile mou ena mail : stereonova@hotmail.com . thnx