#atelier lang

[dutchjan]

May 20, 2024

[lady-hallowtide]

Chapter 22: Childhood Betrothal Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu

As a child, and indeed when he is older, Shen Jiu is a possessive little gremlin. Feral street child we can’t blame him for wanting a way to be together forever with his Qi-ge.

So as little kids do, he declared with all seriousness that one day he’d marry his Qi-ge. He had no idea what he just unleashed.

Yue Qi, yandere extraordinaire, took this very, very seriously.

Yue Qingyuan worked fanatically hard from the moment Shen Jiu was pulled from his arms. And when he is made Head Disciple Yue Qingyuan tells his Sect Leader his betrothed is enslaved and they have to save him. Sect Leader sees this could be used against her Head Disciple and honestly is always down to kill a slaver.

Sect Leader and young Yue Qingyuan descend on the Qiu Estate like an omen of death.

Bringing home a shell shocked Shen Jiu they spread rumours around the Sect that the Yue Clans political rivals kidnapped his betrothed to use as a bargaining chip. It’s assumed from then on the two are nobles and childhood sweethearts. There is no evidence of their true origin.

Behind Yue Qingyuans pleasant person suit is a ravenous void.

Yue Qingyuan has his usual melancholy, handsome big brother vibe destroyed pretty quickly given how possessive and unhinged he is about his betrothed. The Sect understands given Shen Jius ‘kidnapping’ he’d be pretty protective. They keep telling themselves this no matter how bad he gets. Sometimes his sect siblings even help much to Shen Jius exasperation.

Shen Jiu is still a prickly bastard however he calms down alot because of how obsessive Yue Qingyuan is. He’s obsessive right back. It does wonders for him honestly and heals something broken in his soul. Shen Jiu is a bastard but he is the Sects bastard so he actually has people he’s friendly with. Well, bickers with in a slightly less poisonous and not self destructive way. Shang Qinghua always did have a massive soft spot for Shen Qingqiu. Yue Qingyuan gets incredibly jealous.

Shen Qingqiu has been a begrudgingly good teacher for so long that when he comes across the child Zhuzhi-lang he unthinkingly intervenes before the young snake demon can be killed by rogue cultivators. As a result Shen Qingqiu is sometimes pestered by an overly friendly Tianlang-jun, and Shen Jiu can often be found with a white snake familiar across his shoulders.

Qi-Ge and his Xiao Jiu get married. Yue Qingyuan has absolutely no chill when it comes to his husband.

Nobodies surprised.

[booksandboba]

Book Releases in 2024

(Last Updated: 11.3.2024)

May

(7) Stars of Chaos: Sha Po Lang, Volume 3, Priest (light novel)

(14) A Crane Among Wolves, Jane Hur (novel)

(21) Witch Hat Atelier, Volume 12, Kamome Shirahama (graphic novel, manga)

(21) Though I Am An Inept Villainess: Tale of the Butterfly-Rat Body Swap in the Maiden Court, Volume 5, Satsuki Nakamura, Ei Ohitsuji, Kana Yuki (graphic novel, manga)

(21) Oshi No Ko, Volume 6, Aka Akasaka, Mengo Yokoyari (graphic novels, manga)

June

(4) Ballad of Sword and Wine: Qiang Jin Jiu, Volume 1, Tang Jiu Qing (light novel)

(11) The Eccentric Doctor of the Moon Flower Kingdom, Volume 6, Tohru Himuka (graphic novel, manga)

(11) Case File Compendium: Bing An Ben, Volume 2, Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou (light novel)

(18) The Remarried Empress, Volume 7, Alphatart, SUMPUL, HereLee (comic, unscrolled web comic)

July

(2) The Night Ends With Fire, K. X. Song (novel)

(9) Thousand Autumns: Qian Qiu, Volume 5, Meng Xi Shi (light novel)

(23) Lullaby of the Dawn, Volume 4, Ichika Yuno (graphic novel, manga)

(23) Remnants of Filth: Yuwu, Volume 4, Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou (light novel)

(30) Peerless: Wushuang, Volume 1, Meng Xi Shi (light novel)

August

(1) Nine Tailed: Realm of Four Kingdoms #1, Jayci Lee (novel)

(6) Spy x Family, Volume 12, Tatsuya Endo (graphic novel, manga)

(6) Father, I Don't Want This Marriage, Volume 1, Hong Heesu, Roal, Yuri (comics, unscrolled web comic)

(6) The Disabled Tyrant's Beloved Pet Fish: Canji Baojun De Zhangxin Yu Chong, Volume 2, Xue Shan Fei Hu (light novel)

(13) Guardian: Zhen Hun, Volume 3, Priest (light novel)

(20) The Husky and His White Cat Shizun: Erha He Ta De Bai Mao Shizun, Volume 6, Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou (light novel)

(27) You���ve Got Mail: The Perils of Pigeon Post: Fei Ge Jiao You Xu Jin Shen, Volume 1, Blackegg (light novel)

(27) Oshi No Ko, Volume 7, Aka Akasaka, Mengo Yokoyari (graphic novels, manga)

September

(3) When Haru Was Here, Dustin Thao (novel)

(3) How to Survive As a Villain, Volume 1, Yi Yi Yi Yi, Wang Yi (comic, web comic unscrolled)

(10) The Eccentric Doctor of the Moon Flower Kingdom, Volume 7, Tohru Himuka (graphic novel, manga)

(17) Stars of Chaos: Sha Po Lang, Volume 4, Priest (light novel)

(17) The Remarried Empress, Volume 8, Alphatart, SUMPUL, HereLee (comic, unscrolled webcomic)

(24) KinnPorsche, Volume 1, Daemi (light novel)

(24) Ballad of Sword and Wine: Qiang Jin Jiu, Volume 2, Tang Jiu Qing (light novel)

October

(8) Case File Compendium: Bing An Ben, Volume 3, Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou (light novel)

(8) The Last Dragon of the East, Katrina Kwan (novel)

(8) Divine Mortals: Divine Mortals # 1, Amanda M. Helander (novel)

(22) Case File Compendium: Bing An Ben, Volume 3, Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou (light novel)

(29) Peerless, Volume 2, Meng Xi Shi (light novel)

(29) Don't Let the Forest In, C.G. Drew (novel)

November

(5) Dinghai Fusheng Records, Volume 1, Fei Tian Ye Xiang, Qian Er Bai, LV FEI (comic, manhua)

(12) ENNEAD, Volume 4, Mojito (comics, webcomic unscrolled)

(19) Remnants of Filth: Yuwu, Volume 5, Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou (light novel)

(19) Oshi No Ko, Volume 8, Aka Akasaka, Mengo Yokoyari (graphic novels, manga)

(26) You’ve Got Mail: The Perils of Pigeon Post: Fei Ge Jiao You Xu Jin Shen, Volume 2, Blackegg (light novel)

(26) Lullaby of the Dawn, Volume 5, Ichika Yuno (manga)

December

(3) The Husky and His White Cat Shizun: Erha He Ta De Bai Mao Shizun, Volume 7, Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou (light novel)

(10) Noragami: Stray God, Volume 27, Adachitoka (graphic novels, manga)

(10) The Disabled Tyrant's Beloved Pet Fish: Canji Baojun De Zhangxin Yu Chong, Volume 3, Xue Shan Fei Hu (light novel)

(17) Though I Am An Inept Villainess: Tale of the Butterfly-Rat Body Swap in the Maiden Court, Volume 6, Satsuki Nakamura, Ei Ohitsuji, Kana Yuki (graphic novel, manga)

(24) The Ancient Magus' Bride, Volume 20, Kore Yamazaki (graphic novels, manga)

(24) KinnPorsche, Volume 2, Daemi (light novel)

[faustiandevil]

Again not a translator by trade I just do what I can with the knowledge of the language only the Devil and Hungarians speak. I would love to get some notes, or help, because this one is full of misinformation in my humble opinion. So… uh… have the Youngkin book ready I guess…

Peter Lorre – the hero of horror movies is – Hungarian!

Talking with the famous actor’s father in Budapest

Slowly climbing our way up the snow covered street in Buda. We stop before a modest looking villa that stretches into a garden. Under the doorbell stands a small nametag:

LAJOS LÓRÁNT (Translator’s notes: Okay, so this article came out in 1947, after Hungary’s involvement in WWII… on the worst side possible and after the “liberation” by the Soviet army. Now it wasn’t uncommon for Jewish people to change their name to something more Hungarian for assimilation purposes. And during that time people who had a German sounding name could be deported back to Germany… even if they lived in Hungary for generations and had no political involvement in the war. The worse option was of course a brutal death. So that’s my guess as to why it says Lóránt instead of Löwenstein.)

Inside the warm room, among the heavy furniture we shake hands with a kind old man. With Lajos Lóránt, the father of Peter Lorre, the world famous actor, the big star of the so-called >>horror movies<<. We are talking about his son, who appeared in nearly almost every big European city, but his success reached its zenith in Hollywood. Old photos, yellowed articles emerge from the depths of the huge drawer. The past is mixed with the present here, the drawer shows us the ascending career path of a great actor.

– Peter was born in Rózsahegy (Translator’s note: If you are not Hungarian I guarantee you are pronouncing it wrong.), but he was still a child, when we moved to Vienna. He studied there, – the old man’s eyes start to shine – he graduated with honors from the Wiener Handelsakademien. For a short while he worked at a bank, but his dream, to become an actor, didn’t let him rest behind the boring desk of the foreign exchange department. With his young friends he organized an experimental stage, where they performed commedia dell arte plays. – they failed with it. He first performed in a serious play in Breslau, and from here his journey lead to Zürich. (Translator’s notes: If anyone could add more to these please do so. I don’t remember anything about either places.) Then he performed in Vienna with astounding success, then he went to Berlin. There he was spotted by Fritz Lang, who contracted him for the main role in >>M<<. The peculiar movie became a world hit, and with certainty established Péter’s career as an actor.

A faded newspaper, with yellowed edges comes out from the drawer now, the first Hollywood article, which was written of Peter Lorre.

>>…Peter Lorre – states the article – doesn’t hold onto the hundreds of critiques, he only put away one. That copy of the Times, where Chaplin has said that he has seen >>M<< three times and that he considers Peter Lorre the best European actor.<<

After the nazis seized power Peter Lorre has also immigrated, first to Paris, and then to London… The great actor was received with a warm welcome by the free people of the free countries. In London with one of his roles he won the English producer’s first prize, which is equivalent to an American Oscar. (Translator’s note: What?) Mr. Lóránt is now telling us about an episode in London:

- There was a group that got together in London, the immigrants, we went there together with Péter. (Translator’s notes: The story makes it sound as if papa Löwenstein was also there with him in London, but he wasn’t… as to my knowledge… anyway let’s continue…) One day a producer has joined us, he also came from Germany. He told us of an interesting and a typical incident. When the nazis took over the UFA studio, one day Goebbels visited the ateliers in Neubabelsberg. Everyone was there to see the >>tall<< visitor. Then Goebbles had asked: - Tell me, you had once a great actor… a sort of short little man… Why is he not here? - Minister, there’s a bit of a problem with him… - Problem?! What sort of problem?! I can smooth it over! - I’m afraid, Minister, that this problem cannot be fixed. - ??? - Minister, with Peter Lorre the problem is with his… religion! Goebbels straightened himself out, and his expression turned dark: - I no longer know this man! (Translator’s notes: Not a loss if you ask me. Burn in Hell nazi scum~)

Newer photos emerge, these are from America. Success, after success.

- Does your son write often? - Oh, of course. Always with such love and would love for me to move out to him. There’s a possibility it’ll happen around the summer. And he always writes in Hungarian, always, and he always states he is Hungarian. (Translator’s notes: Again what??? Man didn’t speak the language, but he could write??? That’s new info for me… but in a previous one we were also told by papa Löwenstein that he hates writing letters and would rather call home instead… I do feel validated tho, because yes Hungarians ride horses and women, man did not deny his roots. If anyone calls him a different nationality from here on I will be collecting kneecaps just saying.)

Our time is up, the photos and articles go back into the drawer. Mr. Lóránt puts away even the smallest paper piece with such great care, as if it were expensive porcelain.

Original article by György Gaál.

Text under images:

In the first movie, in the main role of Fritz Lang’s drama >>M<<

With his father, in 1930, at Siófok (Translator’s notes: Uhhh… in the previous one I translated this image was said to be taken in 1921 Budapest… Did papa Löwenstein remember it wrong, it has been 10 years and I’m unsure how old he was at this point… He could’ve just misremembered, or the journalist made an error. Either way I feel gaslighted. If anyone knows if he took any vacays near Lake Balaton lemme know.)

With his wife in Palm Springs. The white horse was a gift from Robert Taylor

[devosopmaandag]

Hoe de kunst mijn gemoed bespeelt

Het is de eerste keer dat ik in het Mudam (Musée d'Art Moderne Grand-Duc Jean) in Luxemburg kom. Het ligt wat verscholen in een hoek van een park, en dat voor museumarchitectuur van het zuiverste water: veel glas, veel wit, veel schuine lijnen, een oprijzende ijsberg. Eerst door een soort tunnel, dan de auto in een halfduistere parkeergarage, een modern chique hotel vlak naast het museum, en binnen een dame achter de balie die ons al telefonerend helpt. Mijn wat wankele liefde voor de hedendaagse kunst wordt meteen getest. En dan betreden G en ik een bijna leeg museum, met meer suppoosten dan bezoekers.

Cosima von Bonin, een grote ster in de kunst van nu, heeft er een overzichtstentoonstelling. Ik ben niet voorbereid op kunst die de hedendaagse populaire beeldcultuur tot onderwerp heeft. Stripfiguren, knuffels, gestileerde, vergrote dagelijkse objecten en beelden vullen brutaal zaal na zaal. Niets gebeurt in mij - of wacht, er gebeurt juist heel veel. Het is een zuiver gevoel van vervreemding in die Boninse wereld. Ik wijs het werk af, zaal na zaal, een gevoel dat steeds sterker wordt. Ik observeer mezelf daarin, dwalend en verloren in een dionysische wereld van ironie en opgevoerde 'pop culture'. Haar in de kunstwereld bewonderde humor, haar cultuurkritiek, haar status slaan dood in mij. Het is een krachtige ervaring.

Dan is er ook nog een kunsthistorisch overzicht van vrouwelijke pioniers in de computerkunst van de jaren 1960 tot 1991. De werken, een groot aantal op printpapier met gaatjes aan weerszijden, veel uitvergrote pixels op doek, onscherpe foto's, ogen al bijna archaïsch. Ik loop er rond met een welwillende zachtheid. Ik was kunststudent in de jaren '70. Maar de tentoonstelling waar ik mij werkelijk voor open is een retrospectief van Xanti Schawinsky (1904-1979), volkomen onbekend voor mij. Hij studeerde in de jaren '20 van de vorige eeuw aan het Bauhaus, ontvluchtte als Joods kunstenaar het nazi-regime in Duitsland en vertrok via het steeds fascistischer wordende Italië naar de Verenigde Staten. Op uitnodiging van Josef Albers, zijn docent aan het Bauhaus, ging hij lesgeven aan het Black Mountain College. Zijn oeuvre bestaat uit schilderijen, tekeningen, foto's, grafiek en werken voor theater Doorbreken van conventies in de verschillende disciplines, het zoeken naar een totaal-ervaring, het gebruik van het lichaam, het uitproberen van nieuwe technieken, dat alles kenmerkt zijn werk. Lopend van werk naar werk loop ik met de geschiedenis van de twintigste eeuw mee, loop ik langs een mensenleven.

Een beeld dat mij treft is de kunstenaar dansend op een groot schildersdoek, een van zijn manieren om het lichamelijke in de schilderkunst te onderzoeken. Het kost me weinig moeite hem in zijn atelier bezig te zien. Vlak voor me uit slentert een lange man, cool, met pet en splinternieuwe sneakers en zijn donker, lange jas nog aan. Zo terloops als een hand die de bladeren van een heg streelt, zo maakt hij eenhandig een foto met zijn telefoon – van de dansende Schawinsky. En voort slentert hij weer. Ik meen te weten wat hij voelt.

[tagesnotizen]

18.9.2024 | Toniareal | 10.15h

Was er tun solle, wenn ihn plötzlich sein eigenes Diplomprojekt langweile, fragt ein Student und ein anderer sorgt sich um seine Beratungsresistenz. Freuen tun sich alle auf lange Nächte im Atelier. Pizza bestellen! Bier! Laute Musik!

[these-detestable-hands]

Truly an Ask Game Tuesday.

1, 7, 8, 14, 16, 18, 25

Honestly, just answer them slowly and when you have time. These are your fan mails. You don't reply to ALL of your fan mails in one go!

Yippee I love answering questions as soon as I get them.

1. The character everyone gets wrong

Valter from fe8. Listen. I know he acts vile and Riev directly says he has raped women and it's heavily implied Valter wants to rape Eirika but please hear me out.

Valter acts like this because of the cursed lance. This isn't a story of a cruel man who hurts others for fun, it's a story of a man who fell victim to a curse. In the Duessel and Cormag A support, they say the lange only corrupts those who are already bad people and I think this is stupid cause:

A. I don't really believe in good or bad people, only good and bad actions so it doesn't make much sense that it would affect Valter but not Cormag, but whatever I guess.

B. They say Valter was always evil and the lance just made him worse but that's not giving him credit for how he was before. Maybe he had violent urges to kill and rape before, but it means he did a good job of controlling himself and not letting it show. Maybe he felt guilty that he had those urges, maybe it was something he was actively working on, only for the cursed lance to ruin all his progress.

Valter has the opportunity to be an incredibly deep and fun character but it's completely ignored because IS did not choose to flesh him out and so the fandom takes his character at face value!! I think a sacred stones remake would be good because it would allow them to flesh out Valter (and the other generals) more and he really needs it. He's such an important villain but he's treated like crap by both the devs and fandom!!!

7. What character do you hate, not because of canon, but because of the fandom?

Kahaku probably. I mean I already didn't like him very much but the fandom is infuriating. He's strange and does bad things and hurts Fushi's loved ones but people just ignore that for the sake of shipping :/

8. Common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

The spy x family manga has a good balance of showing all three protagonists equally because they're equally important (though there's a little extra attention given to Twilight because he's the protagonist protagonist) but the anime gives way too much attention to Yor and Anya and the fandom doesn't like Twilight very much so people are happy about this. It sucks because beyond being a comedy, spy x family has an amazing story but the anime reduces it to silly Yor and Anya shenanigans so there's NONE of the espionage and fictional politics that I signed up for.

14. That one thing you see in fics all the time

I don't read much fanfiction actually and I'm very picky with what little I do read.

16. You can't understand why so many people like this thing

The canaries in dungeon meshi!!! Obviously Mithrun is amazing but we hardly see the others at all, I genuinely cannot fathom why people like them when we hardly have any idea of their personalities outside of daydream hour. I didn't even remember their names until I saw people constantly posting about them. It's also just a little upsetting cause of the one extremely sexualized brown woman :(

18. It's absolutely criminal the fandom has been sleeping on...

Honestly everything in witch hat atelier. The only characters people ever post about are Qifrey and Olruggio (as a ship) and Coco and Agott (also as a ship)

It's a good manga where the fandom is being lost to shipping. It just sucks. I wish people would actually give a crap about the story or the side characters but NOPE as always people are just shipping. Also side note Coco and Agott are 12 and Coco is dealing with the severe guilt of functionally killing her mom, now is NOT the time to be worrying about getting a gf.

25. Common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

Ok so in ace attorney 4, the antagonist Kristoph has a really big secret but won't say what it is. He's executed before you can find out what it is. People hate this because it's annoying to not know but honestly I don't get it.

Kristoph is a very secretive and calculated killer, a lot like Cylira or Benedict (if Benedict killed people) and it makes perfect sense for him to never confess whatever secret he had. I like that he dies and we don't know what it was, it fits for his character.

[anyalovesu]

tolerate it.

vi. use my best colors for your portrait.

— “he said he wondered what it must be like inside my mind and i told him he’d rather not know. it was for the better.”

“Bakit ka andito?” Elijah’s tone was sharp from the door of the atelier, eyes boring holes into the back of her fiancé’s head.

“Madam Eli!” Kyle greeted her cheerfully, skipping towards her as he gave her a high five. Leon didn’t know when they got that close but he figured that maybe FC lang si Kyle. “Nakita ko ang entry mo sa page ng org n’yo! Angas!”

Eli smiled at him, flattered at the compliment, especially because Kyle really was impressed and has never seen anything executed like that.

“Magpapacommission kami ng art sa’yo one day, para sa album art namin!” he says with conviction.

“Album art agad,” Amir playfully hits the back of his head, chuckling at him. “Sumulat ka muna ng kanta.”

“Meron na ngang draft!” Kyle argued, reaching over to Amir’s head to get his revenge but Amir stealthily pulled away before Kyle could hit him. “Nasa flashdrive ko na, iplay ko pa ngayon!”

“Loophole,” Leon replied to her, before slowly turning back to face her. “Bakit Loophole?”

“Hindi ako nagpapapasok sa atelier, lumabas ka d’yan,” Elijah sneered at him, pointing the way out of the room.

The room was messy and there were a lot of unhung canvases lying around the room that she has been planning to hang around the house but she hasn’t been home for most of the time to do the task. She would be lying if she said that she enjoyed working overtime. She’s not afraid of admitting that she has been avoiding Leon, that’s why she has been staying up late in the office. But more than that she hasn’t been drawing well the past few days, that even Hwangs have noticed how dark her designs have been getting which puts Santi in a position to worry if his little sister’s situation is triggering her to have a mental breakdown.

“Why the loophole?”

“Matagal na ‘yan.” Elijah was getting agitated the more Leon tried to press for information.

Wasn’t it obvious? Or was it that Leon is playing stupid?

“It’s good!” Eli clapped as Kyle stopped the seventh and last track from the mini album. “Anong pangalan ng album?”

“Loophole,” he proudly replied. “Homage to where the band started.”

“But nagsimula ang banda sa inyong lima,” Eli smiled at him, soft eyes looking at the gentle stares that her friends were giving her. “Ibang banda ang Loophole.”

“Walang Midnight Covey kung walang Loophole,” Amir agreed. “Maganda yung Loophole. Doon nagsimula ang lahat, doon rin magsisimula ang karera ng banda na ‘to.”

“Para saan? Para kanino?”

“Hindi ka naman yata tanga para isubo ko pa sa’yo ang sagot,” Elijah spat at him, before trying to force Leon out of the atelier. Trying, being the keyword. Leon was taller and heavier than she had anticipated, making it easy for him to stand still and pull her like she weighed nothing towards him. “Bitawan mo nga ako!”

“It was for the album ng MC, right?” 

“You are on thin ice, Park,” Elijah hisses at him one more time, but Leon does not let go. Instead he pulls her into a hug, one that he was strong enough to hold even if Elijah was fighting for her life to escape. “This is not going to fix anything you did, Leon. Bumitaw ka na.”

Elijah was slowly beginning to feel like the world was closing up again. Cold was creeping from her fingertips to her arms, from the tips of her toes to the rest of her body. Her eyes began to cloud as her throat dried and closed up. “Bumitaw ka please,” she managed to sob out as she tried to push him again from another time. “Hindi ako makahinga, bumitaw ka, Leon.”

Leon releases the moment he hears that, cold engulfing him just as much as it did her. “Ellie,” he held her face to make him look at him as she breathed heavily.

“Bitawan mo ako sabi!” 

He was taken back when she slapped his hand harshly away from her face. Elijah backed away from him until she hit the blank wall next to the door frame. Leon could only watch as Elijah clutched the hem of her shirt as she slid down the wall, sobbing.

“You can’t just go home na may dalang bulaklak tapos magkukunwaring may pakielam ka sa mga ginawa ko para lang saktan ako bukas,” Elijah whimpers, trying desperately to control her breathing. “Tangina naman. Gusto mo malaman kung para kanino ‘yan?”

Leon was speechless, he just stood there and nodded like a pathetic little boy. It made his heart squeeze to see Elijah sat there, in the midst of a mental breakdown, and he hit a dead end trying to figure out how to help her. She didn’t want anyone near her, that was the only thing clear for him.

“Para sa banda, oo,” she managed to croak out. “Para sa una n’yong album.”

Leon slowly drops to the floor, pulling his legs close to him as he tries his hardest not to scoot closer toward Elijah to hear what she was saying as some of the words rendered incoherent in between the sobs. “But you stopped being friends with me bago ko pa natapos. Bago ko pa maibigay.

“Bakit ilang araw na hindi sumasama si Eli?” Amir asks as Leon enters the room with Krizal, his girlfriend. Krizal sneers at him the moment Elijah’s name was mentioned.

“‘Wag n’yo na hanapin,” Leon brushes them off as he offers for Krizal to take a seat on the couch where Eli used to sit.

Kyle couldn’t help but feel the ick for the new girl.

 Surely it wasn’t her fault that she was brought here by Leon, but she seemed uninterested the entire time she was there and it was a stark contrast to the enthusiasm that Eli always showed whenever she tagged along. He appreciated every comment Eli gave and the small revisions in the lyrics and the composition of the song that she thought would sound better. That energy was just absent now that Eli is not there anymore. He missed it. Surely, everyone did. Especially when there was a constant interference with their equipment because of the constant calls that Krizal kept on getting in the middle of their practice.

“Miss ko na si Madam,” Kyle mumbles as he scribbles on his notebook. Krizal had just left to meet with her friend, and there they were on the floor of Kyle’s studio, trying to brainstorm for the next song that’s going to make it in their album. “Kelan ba daw s’ya hindi busy?”

“Ayaw ni Krizal sa kan’ya,” Tobi rolled his eyes. “Hindi ko na rin nakikitang nagpapansinan ‘yung dalawa eh.”

“Ang fucked up mo naman brodi kung iniwan mo si Eli dahil ayaw sa kan’ya ng jowa mo,” Karlo laughed at him, thought secretly hoping it was a joke. But it wasn’t. That morning, Leon and Eli spoke about the terms of their friendship and technically ended it there.

Leon looked at him blankly.

“Bobo,” Kyle shamefully threw his notebook at Leon, making sure to aim for his head. “Bobo ka! Isa kang bobo!”

“What was I supposed to do? Eh nagseselos nga si Krizal sa kan’ya?”

“Si Eli ba talaga ang problema o ikaw ang suspicious gumalaw kapag kasama si Elijah?” Everyone stopped to look at Tobi. 

Of all the people, Tobi knows Leon the most as he sees it, Leon has been denying an emotion that he fears to feel.

And that was, Leon, in fact, was unknowingly falling in love with Eli. And out of fear of what could result from that, he switches up to another girl and dumping Eli as if it would magically erase how he felt for his best friend.

“Anyway, kung makakaistorbo lang din ang girlfriend mo sa practice at wala namang itutulong dito, huwag mo na isama,” Kyle rolled his eyes at him, picking up the notebook that he threw at Leon. “Ilang beses tayong umulit kasi ugong ng ugong ang speakers. Akala n’ya yata nakakatuwa s’ya.”

Him and Krizal broke up a few months later and it didn’t take long before he was dating someone else already. Though they lasted longer than him and Krizal did, his relationship with Junia ended for the same reason. They couldn’t stop getting jealous over someone Leon had left behind already.

While Leon knows that he has already moved on, it seemed like the ghost of Elijah haunted him, because she was everywhere. Even their small fanbase searched for the girl who always stood in the bylines during their gigs, the one who always cheered for them and even went as far as writing songs with them. Maybe him constantly being broken up with because of Eli unreasonably planted that deep rooted dislike for his, now, ex-best friend. 

Margot was there for them the same way Eli was, though she had a different role. She was there because she enjoyed whatever her older brother sang. It took a while before she and Leon got together because Amir did not like the thought of it. At the end of the day though, Amir knew that Margot could handle it. After all, Margot and Eli met each other once and did not have bad blood at all. Margot knew her worth and knew that Eli is not going to be a threat at all if it was up to her.

Margot trusted Leon very much and while it seemed pathetic that she knew there was someone else in Leon’s heart, she figured that there were two separate places for them and there was no point in competing with someone who respected Leon’s decisions a long time ago. Margot knew that there will always be love for Eli. From all of Midnight covey. She knew that Midnight covey wouldn’t have made it if she weren’t there during the beginning of it. Eli will always be loved, especially by her best friend, Leon, though he says he would rather die than say it.

And Margot was right all along.

It wouldn’t hurt this much if there wasn’t love.

It physically hurts him to remember that conversation with his friends, everything that had everything to do with Eli during the rise of the band, all his break ups — everything leads back to Eli. 

And it wasn’t even her fault at all. 

It was all his.

“Babes, may schedule ka pa sa Sunset vine,” Ynes called her softly, tapping the back of her very hungover best friend to try and wake her up from her slumber. “Sabi na kasing tama na kagabi eh, ayaw pa magpaawat.”

“I’m sick sabihin mo hindi ko kaya,” Eli whined, trying to swat Ynes’ hand away from her back. “Ayaw ko pa rin makita si Leon.”

“Kapag ba hindi ka pumunta, may mangyayari?” Ynes asked, pulling a chair to sit next to her. Craning her neck above the dividers of Eli's working space to see if there was anyone suspicious listening to them. “Kahit naman ayaw mo kay Leon, wala naman tayong magagawa. Jas messaged him last night, noong may tama na rin. He kept on apologizing, babes.”

“What is his apology going to do? Anong akala n’ya? Kapag suddenly binigyan n’ya ako ng acknowledgement bibigay ako? Am I that easy? Ganoon ba ang tingin n’ya sa akin?” Eli rises from her desk and looks at Ynes, tears beginning to glass over her eyes. “Ang babaw ko naman sa kan’ya kung ganoon. He couldn’t even apologize to my face! And then what? Ita-trato nanaman ako na parang basura kung kelan n’ya maisipan? Tangina naman kung ganoon.”

“Babes, I can’t go there on my own rin kasi,” Ynes sighed, finally admitting to the truth. “Nacontact na rin kami ni Kuya Tobi ng assistant ni Misis Park para samahan kayo as maid of honor at best man.”

“Dinadamay na rin kayo?” Eli wanted the ground she stood on to open and swallow her whole from 12 floors above the ground floor. Why did it have to reach to this point?

“I actually think it’s quite nice of them to bring us into the picture. Para hindi kayo magpatayan.”

Eli groaned, slamming her head on the top of her hand over the table. Dejectedly turning her head towards Ynes’ direction only to realize that they really are trying to make this work for her and Leon. 

She really was hopeful that somehow it could work. Maybe some miracle out there would suddenly make him change… but the miracle came in the form of him being made aware of her diagnosis… and the sudden change wasn’t so nice at all. After his scene last night, there was nothing but sheer anger and annoyance for Leon for how he handled things.

“I actually think na dapat hindi na kayo sinasama dito,” Eli mumbled before hesitantly pulling herself up from her seat and grabbing her handbag from the table. “Tara na. Baka kung ano pang iba nilang ipagawa sa inyo.”

Ynes was there through everything. What’s next if Ynes doesn’t follow what they say? Take away her job? Take away from Eli? Losing Ynes is the last thing she wants. Ynes is the sole reason for her sanity throughout college when everything was turning shit because of school and her consistent family affairs that she did not want to involve herself in.

Ynes took Eli’s car keys before she could even argue. Eli was not in the best state of mind and driving for God knows how long will take during the deadly hours of city traffic has never had a higher chance of triggering yet another mental breakdown from her. Ynes took it in her hands before things got out of hand.

“Gusto mo na ba pagusapan kung saan nagsimula ang sigawan n’yo ni Leon kagabi?” Ynes asked once they reached where the traffic really got congested. 

“Nasabi ko na kagabi,” Eli replied coldly, as if trying to avoid the subject  though deep inside she knew that she had to talk about it at some point. She figured that talking about things helped her to figure out how to go around things better. The thing about that was that it was hard to relive moments that got too emotional for her liking. Emotions made her brain go haywire almost every time. There was a point where she thought she had an aversion towards feeling strong emotions but Isa always reminded her that it was okay to feel her feelings when he was around because she was safe.

She believed him.

She was safe with Isa.

But Isa is not here anymore.

“Sabi mo lang kagabi nagdala ng bulaklak tapos ang kapal ng mukha n’ya dahil akala n’ya kaya ka n’yang goyohin sa bulaklak,” Ynes gave her a slight shrug.

Ynes always thought rationally. Which made her jealous of that trait of her best friend because she never was. The highs were always too high and the lows were always too low. There was rarely a neutral ground for her to think things out properly. She was a cosmic ball full of emotions and ideas, always waiting for the most inconvenient moment to explode. They either turned into stars, her greatest creations, the very reason of her success or into black holes, that sometimes are strong enough to absorb every single reason for her to want to live.

Eli looked at Ynes, whose eyes glued to the road, before slumping back on her seat, letting out a heavy sigh to try and compose herself with enough courage to tell her best friend what had really happened.

“Pumasok s’ya sa atelier,” Eli sighed, looking down on her hands as she fiddled with the zipper of her designer bag sitting on her lap. Her light pink manicured nails scratched on the metal grooves of the zipper in hopes of distracting herself from crying once again.

“You let everyone in the atelier, Eli,” Ynes glanced at her curiously. True to her statement, Eli did let everyone into her working space ever since. She was always proud of the art that she creates, claiming that she has brought them to light from the highest and lowest points of her life and it was always worth being proud of because it was a reminder that she survived that part of her life. “Bakit ayaw mong papasukin si Leon?”

“I didn’t let him him. Pumasok s’ya ng kanya,” Eli quipped. “There’s a difference d’on, babes.”

“Bakit ayaw mo nga?”

“Nakita n’ya yung huli kong ginawa,” Eli glances out the window to try and avoid letting Ynes see her crying even though she’s seen her cry too many times to count already.

“Maganda naman?”

“I don’t know if he figured that half of it was from my grief noong sinantabi n’ya ako,” Eli mumbled. 

Ynes felt a pang of guilt hit her when Eli admitted that. 

'Half of it' was an understatement, more than half of it was Eli’s artistic take on Midnight Covey’s songs. They were basically what could’ve been MC’s album cover art over the past four years. She hasn’t listened to any of them directly, but Ynes played them all the time. She was friends with Kyle after all like Eli used to be too. Ynes was a big fan of Midnight Covey but out of respect for her best friend, she never opened up the fact that Eli has been keeping her word to Kyle that she will make them an album cover one day when they made it big.

“Now I feel guilty kasi nararamdaman ko pa rin yung grief na yon kahit na may Isaac na noon,” Eli continued. “But it was a different kind of hurt, you know? Akala ko kasi hindi n’ya maiisip gawin ‘yon but I turned out to be just as replaceable as everyone to him. Tapos what? Kapag nalaman n’yang may sakit ako, all of a sudden, maawa s’ya tapos gogoyohin ako gamit ang bulaklak? Ganoon ba kadali ‘yon sa kan’ya? I spent the past years grieving our friendship tapos ganon lang ‘yon sa kan’ya?”

Ynes had no more words to say but a sincere apology for pushing her to open up something so sensitive to her. Eli told her to not mind it, maybe it did feel good to let that thought go because it was true and it mattered a lot that she listened.

“He also called my best work yet childish and immature,” Eli added. “I don’t want to get scrutinized again by someone who used to be so proud of my work.”

“Maganda ang mga gawa mo,” Ynes argued. “He’s so lucky that he was the reason behind one of your best works. You always painted him in good colors. So much for someone na sinaktan ka ng sobra.”

“I don’t have the stomach to hurt his reputation and ruin his image for the band,” Eli replied, eyes following the parking lot lights that they were passing by, another of her useless attempts to distract herself from getting too emotional again. “He’s a shitty person, yes. But not that bad naman para sirain s’ya with my art. He still deserves the best colors for his portrait. Magaling naman s’yang musician. Let’s give him that.”

—

“Ruby,” Leon smiled, welcoming her into his arms before his arms made its way to wrap around her waist. “This is Chulia and Georgina. I met them kanina. Sila yung organizers.”

Shit.

Elijah could almost feel her entire skin crawl at the feeling of being intimately close to Leon. Things seemed to naturally spew out of Leon’s mouth. Like Elijah wasn’t screaming her larynx at him the night prior.

Nonetheless, Elijah offers her hand to shake both Chulia’s and Georgina’s hand politely. “It’s nice meeting you both.”

“We’ve met before,” Chulia smiled at her. “Sa VisuoCon two years ago! I didn’t know na si Leon Park pala ang boyfriend mo noong time na ‘yon!”

“Oh, he wasn’t,” Elijah blurted out before she could think of it. 

Leon could not help but feel flustered at her slip up this early but he could not help but feel a pang against his chest being denied like that even if he knew very clearly that she was committed to someone else just a week ago. However, instead of showing how completely fazed he was by this, he only clutches her waist possessively as if to tell Chulia that he might not be the one with her back then but he’s the one here now.

And that’s what mattered.

Elijah, who was also shocked by her own reckless response, seemed to get the message. “He wasn’t. Life works strangely. Dito rin pala ako babalik.” 

“We got together just this year, actually,” Leon chuckled, carefully caressing the area where his hand was. Elijah, though it scared her the first time it happened, seemed to be growing on Leon’s touch. After all Leon wouldn’t do anything to violate her that way… he’s not that kind of person, right? He changed but he’s not that bad, right? “Pero magkababata naman kami. Technically, there’s no need na magkaroon pa ng ganoon katagal na dating phase, right? We’ve spent almost our entire lives together.”

There was some truth to that. Yes. They got together this year, specifically roughly about a week and a half ago. They were childhood friends, correct again. They have spent their entire lives together,

Yes.

Except that for the past four years, they have been pretending to not know each other.

Though, for more than they liked to admit, they unconsciously did things that still lead back to each other.

“Ay ganoon ba?” Georgina seemed to be so amused by the unconventional love story that they were trying to sell. “So si Ma’am Elijah po ‘yung person in question noong sinabi n’yo na in a relationship kayo?”

No, hindi po. Elijah wanted to reply to her. Tempted to tell the truth right then and there but they were buying into everything that even Tobi and Ynes seemed to be impressed by how well they were playing into this. They were easily fooled into Leon’s charismatic smile when he nodded as they giggled and playfully slapped each other’s arms.

Elijah, getting a little too close for comfort, laid her head on Leon’s side, accentuating the height difference as Elijah only rose to graze lightly to his shoulder. 

“We wanted to keep it private, right?”

Elijah didn’t know why she turned her head to look at him; it just felt right. But she didn’t know if it was a great move— maybe for anyone who didn’t know any better, it was— but for her sanity it wasn’t because Leon did the same exact thing and their faces came too close for their liking.

They stood there, faces inches away from each other.

And somehow that made Elijah’s heart race. It wasn’t the good kind. She got afraid.

Not by the closeness.

Not by the fact that he looked like he was going to kiss her.

She got afraid of the fact that for a miniscule second, she wanted to move closer and kiss him right then and there.

Elijah got too flustered and playfully pushed his face away, managing to hide how her face easily turned crimson by hiding her face on his chest. Again, too close.

“Ang cute n’yo po,” Georgina giggled, playfully slapping Chulia’s arm once again. “Dito po tayo, darating na po yung mga server maya maya ng kaunti.”

“While waiting, we should talk about you two’s preferences, ano? I heard from Miss Alcantara na napagusapan n’yo na raw po ‘yung mga gusto n’yo. So, doon po tayo magsisimula ngayon,” Chulia smiled, as the six of them walked towards the back room of the restaurant.

Leon managed to slip his arm away from Elijah’s waist, leaving her feeling cold after getting used to his warmth for that short period of time. But before Elijah could move away, the older man managed to reach for her hand just split second after he took his arm from around her body.

Elijah knew they were pretending. 

Who knows how long it would last that Leon was this nice and intimate.

Her mind was racing with a million other thoughts about the impending engagement party, but the one that led them all was the fact that she never once attempted to remove her hand from Leon’s even when they were already sitting down. There were their hands, over the table, flashing the shiny ruby ring for the entire table to see.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ characters ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ previous ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ next ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[joostjongepier]

Wat?    Hoofdstudie van een jongeman {1653) door Michaelina Wautier, Buste van een jonge man in profiel door Jacob van Oost II of Michaelina Wautier en Hoofd van een jongen (ca. 1680) door Michaelina Wautier

Waar?   Tentoonstelling Krasse koppen in KMSKA, Antwerpen

Wanneer?   8 januari 2023

Zo af en toe ontdek je op een tentoonstelling een kunstenaar waar je nog nooit van hebt gehoord, maar die je verrast of waarvan je op een of andere manier onder de indruk raakt. Mijn vondst op deze tentoonstelling is Michaelina Wautier (1604-1689), de enige vrouwelijke kunstenaar die te zien is op de tentoonstelling. Michaelina werkte samen met haar broer Charles in een atelier in Brussel. Voor zover bekend is ze nooit getrouwd. In tegenstelling tot andere vrouwelijke kunstenaars beperkte ze zich niet tot stillevens, maar beoefende ze allerlei genres. Op dit moment zijn er van haar zo’n veertig werken bekend.

Op Krasse Koppen hangt van haar een hoofdstudie van een jongeman. Hij poseert ongedwongen, zijn hoofd afgewend. Afgezien van de glimmende doek die hij draagt, zou het iemand uit onze tijd kunnen zijn.

Op 11 november 2018 bezocht ik Galerij Prins Willem V in Den Haag. In dit eerste openbare museum in Nederland hangen schilderijen in rijen boven elkaar. Mijn oog viel toen op een werk waar ik het volgende over schreef: “In de veelheid van doeken, viel een werk van een onbekende meester me op. Hoewel hoog opgehangen en moeilijk te zien, vond ik Buste van een jongeman van Jacob van Oost II mooi. Een sprekende kop met lang haar en volle lippen, de ogen starend in de verte.” Tot mijn grote genoegen zie ik ditzelfde schilderij terug op deze tentoonstelling, dit keer keurig op ooghoogte en goed uitgelicht. Ook nu ik het schilderij wat beter kan bekijken, blijft mijn positieve oordeel over dit werk overeind. Als ik het tekstbordje naast het doek lees, wacht mij een verrassing. Stond het werk in Den Haag aangemerkt als werk van Jacob van Oost II, nu wordt als maker vermeld: “Jacob van Oost II of Michaelina Wautier”. Als dit laatste klopt, heeft deze kunstenares wat mij betreft op deze expositie dubbele punten gescoord!

Als ik na afloop van de tentoonstelling nog wat door de rest van het, grotendeels verlaten, museum dwaal, kom ik nog een werk van Wautier tegen:  Hoofd van een jongen. Ook deze jongen is levensecht en je zou hem, afgezien van zijn kleren, zo vandaag op straat tegen kunnen komen

Voor ik vertrek bezoek ik uiteraard nog even de museumwinkel. Daar tref ik een mooi groot boek aan met de titel Michaelina en gewijd aan de zojuist door mij ontdekte kunstenares. Er zit geen prijssticker op het boek. Als ik bij de kassa informeer naar de prijs, blijkt het boek slechts één tientje te kosten. Het behoeft geen betoog dat het boek een plaatsje zal krijgen in mijn kunstbibliotheek. Maar natuurlijk pas nadat ik het overige oeuvre van deze verrassend goede kunstenares nader heb bestudeerd.

[fabiansteinhauer]

On the making of Law/ Love in Chanceries

1.

Ein Kollege sagt einmal nach dem Tod von Cornelia Vismann, das Werk von Cornelia Vismann sei todlangweilig gewesen.

Das war damals von der Art jener kleinen achtlosen Randbemerkungen, die Freundschaften zerstören und Kriege auslösen können. Eine Raserei und Rage hat die Bemerkung ausgelöst. Oft verlieren nicht nur Leute ein Wort gegen das, was man liebt. Das, was man liebt verliert auch selbst, verliert gegen Worte, die dem Lieben und Leben entgegengestellt scheinen - und irgendwann verlieren sie alles auf Erden.

In der Raserei und Rage kann man den Kollegen, die achtlose und würdelose Worte gegen dasjenige verlieren, das man liebt, Unruhe bewahrend geschmacklose Worte um's Ohr hauen. Du Arsch habe ich mir gesagt, im Kopf ihm. Geradeso, ebenso habe ich die Fassung in zitternden Lippen zittern lassen.

Wer ein Rad abhat, kann Rad abhaben. Alles hilft nichts, nur kleine Schritte, nur minore Objekte helfen. In dem Fall hilft, die Bemerkung als ein Lob zu verstehen. Bei Vismann wird der Tod langweilig, durchaus, aber nur, weil man mit ihr den Tod langweilig erscheinen lassen kann. Sie lebt ohnehin nach, wen schreckt schon der Tod, wenn jemand so nachlebt wie Vismann? Canceln als Chance: Davon handelt das Buch über die langweilenste Kanzleikultur in Europa, über Rom, das Aktenbuch. Soll der Kollege sich mit dem Tod, mit Vismann langweilen: In Liebe und Law, Recht und Gesetz ist man ohnehin auf sich gestellt und auf sich außer Sinn und Sinnen.

2.

Gestern haben Manuel, Ricardo, Arthur, Sweti und Moses mit mir Tafeln gebrochen. Wir haben eine alte Tafel weggestellt, neue Tafel hingestellt. Dazu musste ich zum fantastischnamigen 'KFZ-Referat' an der Uni, die neue Tafel musste nämlich am Dom in Frankfurt abgeholt werden, gegenüber vom Italiener. Dafür brauchte ich einen Laster. Das letzte mal, als ich da war, da lebte Cornelia noch und an dem Tag wurde ein Esser (Joseph) zum Papst gewählt, ab da hieß er Benedikt Nr. 16.

Zwischendurch sind viele Jahre vergangen, aber an dem Tag war ich dann auch mit einem Laster vom KFZ-Referat unterwegs, weil ich ein Atelier in Wuppertal auflösen und lauter, einen Haufen Bildtafeln nach Frankfurt bringen musste. Auf der Autobahn hörte ich im Radio Habemus Papam - und bin zufälligerweise auf die irre Idee gekommen, als erstes Cornelia anzurufen.

Vismann, hallo?

Hallo Cornelia, wir haben einen neuen Papst, hier spricht Fabian.

Östliches Pastorentöchterchen und sogenanntes Plakattier Vismann. Die hat sich am Telephon gar nicht eingekriegt vor thrakischem Lachen, dass ich ausgerechnet sie angerufen habe, um ein bisschen Aufregung zu teilen.

Hast Du ein Rad ab, mich deswegen anzurufen?

Bin gerade auf der A 3, Wuppertal Richtung Frankfurt, kann sein.

Ruf doch lieber später noch mal an.

Hach, Canceln! Hach, Gerechtigkeit als Zufall, so soll es sein, alles just by coincidence.

3.

Vismann ist tot, lange lebe Vismann. Zufälligerweise, umwegigerweise gibt es jetzt eine Institution, ein 'Institut' für die Forschung, die Vismann initiiert hat, genau an dem Ort, an dem sie ein paar Jahre gearbeitet hat.

Zwischendurch mal alles weg, gut so, aber einem Weg ist ohnehin egal, ob er gut ist, er will doch sowieso weg. Jetzt, nur eine kurze Phase lang mit vielen Jahren, die immer zwischendurch vergehen, gibt es am Max-Planck-Institut Forschung, die den Namen Vismann hochhält, wie ein Schild, wie ein Digma und ein Dogma.

In diesem Jahr gab es den ersten Workshop zu Recht und Anthropofagie, Vorträge und Workshop in Brasilien, wo die Neugierde groß ist, wo man vor allem auf produktive und irritierende Weise immer schon mehr über das weiß, als was die Vortragenden bewußt so und nicht anders mitbringen. Das ist ein Zauber Brasiliens, vermutlich auch anthropofage Praxis: Man trägt jenem professionellen Publikum bewußt so und nicht anders vor, das auf nicht hemmende, sondern bezaubernde Weise sowohl signalisieren kann, dass es mehr vom Thema weiß, als man gerade sagt und ihnen vorträgt und die gleichzeitg große Neugierde signalisieren, ob man das denn auch schon weiß, was sie mehr wissen. Lockendes Publikum, ein verführerischer Luxus! Immer wissen sie weiter als der, der vorträgt.

Im Vortragen fallen einem dort lauter Sachen ein, von denen man noch gar nicht wußte, dass man sie vorträgt oder überhaupt etwas von ihnen wußte. Verrückt, dafür bezahlen die einen noch, zahlen Flüge und Hotels, führen einen aus, gutes Essen und Strand - und natürlich law clinic unter Palmen, perfekt.

I wish you were here, i wish you where there: Vismann, weil Vismann die Technik des Cancelns so gut ausüben und wahrnehmen konnte. Das Buch über die Akten oder dasjenige Vom Griechenland, dasjenige über das Schöne am Recht: Ich lese, also messe, misse und vermisse ich. Gibt es was Schöneres auf der Welt als Frauen, die einem schreiben? Gibt es was brutaleres, grausameres und schrecklicheres auf der Welt als Frauen, die einem nicht schreiben?

In der Schönheit gibt es, wie im Recht und der Liebe Hitparaden, immer wieder Schlag auf Schlag. Mit Superlativen sollte man vielleicht nicht um sich schmeißen, den Peinlichkeiten entgeht man auch ohne so eine Superlativschmeißerei schon oft genug nicht.

4.

Was mir erst jetzt, nach zig Jahren auffällt: Dass Cornelias Buch die Zweisprachigkeit braucht - und zwar eine Zweisprachigkeit, die bigendert und die binational ist, dabei aber römisch gesprochen wird.

Das ist eine Entzweiung der Sprache, die polarisiert, weil in der Übersetzung die Worte zu Gegenworten pendeln. Die Theorie vom Gegensinn der Urworte macht insofern Sinn, wenn man sie sowohl beim Wort nimmt als auch bildlich versteht. So verliert sie auch ihren Sinn, wie sie ihn macht. Am Anfang der Medien des Rechts ist Thomas Vesting Vismann ausgewichen, als er geschrieben hat, der Umkreis um Kittler bringe zu schnell, zu bald (die wörtliche Formulierung ist entscheidend, sie ist auch bildlich entscheidend, präzise lasse ich sie hier aus, um sie in ihrer Präzision und Paraphrase zu würdigen) Medien in Zusammenhang mit Macht. Vesting hat inzwischen auch Institutionen angepeilt, die Vismann mit dem Verb Instituieren angepeilt hat. Entweder zu früh, entweder zu spät, saturiert und darum satyrisch kommen alle daher und laufen vorbei.

Auf einer Tagung, die wir in Weimar unter dem Titel Instituieren organisiert haben, gab es, was sonst?, Anstösse und Anstössiges, eine Kritik der rein Vernünftigen und ihrer Badezusätze, der Waschbären. Viele Jahre sind vergangen, da kann man gerissene Fäden gut wieder aufgreifen und nach dem Verhältnis zwischen dem Instituieren als einer Technik und einer institutionellen Macht fragen.

Institution wäre dann etwas, was warten oder erwarten lässt, weil es als Gegegebenheit oder Gelegenheit erscheinen kann, als Zufall zum Beispiel. Das ist nur so eine Annahme, nichts als eine Annahme.

[dutchjan]

December 16, 2023

[marciamattos]

Dora Maar (croate-française, 1909-1997),

La conversation 1937

Huile sur toile,

Henriette Theodora Markovitch (22 novembre 1907 - 16 juillet 1997), connue sous le nom de Dora Maar, était une photographe, peintre et poète française.

Henriette Theodora Markovitch était la fille unique de Josip Marković (Joseph Markovitch, 1874-1969), un architecte croate qui a étudié à Zagreb, Vienne, puis Paris où il s'est installé en 1896, et de son épouse, Louise-Julie Voisin, élevée dans la religion catholique (1877–1942), originaire de Cognac, France.

En 1910, la famille part pour Buenos Aires où le père obtient plusieurs commandes dont pour l'ambassade d'Autriche-Hongrie. Ses réalisations lui ont valu l'honneur d'être décoré par l'empereur François-Joseph Ier, alors même qu'il était «le seul architecte à ne pas faire fortune à Buenos Aires».

En 1926, la famille revient à Paris. Dora Maar, pseudonyme qu'elle a choisi, a suivi des cours à l'Union centrale des arts décoratifs et à l'École de photographie. Elle s'inscrit également à l'École des Beaux-Arts et à l'Académie Julian [3] qui ont l'avantage d'offrir la même instruction aux femmes qu'aux hommes. Dora Maar fréquente l'atelier d'André Lhote où elle rencontre Henri Cartier-Bresson.

Pendant ses études à l'École des Beaux-Arts, Maar a rencontré sa collègue surréaliste Jacqueline Lamba. À son sujet, Maar a déclaré: «J'étais étroitement liée à Jacqueline. Elle m'a demandé «où sont ces célèbres surréalistes?» Et je lui ai parlé du café de la Place Blanche. Jacqueline commence alors à fréquenter le café où elle rencontre finalement André Breton, qu'elle épousera plus tard.

Lorsque l'atelier a cessé ses activités, Dora Maar a quitté Paris, seule, pour Barcelone puis Londres, où elle a photographié les effets de la crise économique consécutive au Wall Street Crash de 1929 aux États-Unis. A son retour, et avec l'aide de son père, elle ouvre un autre atelier au 29 rue d'Astorg dans le 8e arrondissement de Paris.

En 1935, elle a été présentée à Pablo Picasso et elle est devenue son compagnon et sa muse. [6] Elle a pris des photos dans son atelier des Grands Augustins et a suivi les dernières étapes de son œuvre épique, Guernica. [6] Elle a ensuite servi de modèle pour sa pièce intitulée Monument à Apollinaire, un hommage au défunt poète Guillaume Apollinaire.

Les œuvres peintes de Dora Maar sont restées méconnues jusqu'à leur vente posthume, organisée en 1999, qui a fait découvrir au public et aux professionnels une production très personnelle qui n'avait jamais quitté son atelier.

Dora Maar a abandonné la photographie pour la peinture aux côtés de Picasso et de son influence, ou plutôt de la présence écrasante du peintre, qui lui avait imposé un style cubiste. Poussé par Picasso à s'exprimer dans ce style, on peut s'interroger sur la volonté de Picasso d'éloigner son amant du domaine où elle excellait, et de la contraindre dans un style de peinture qu'il maîtrisait depuis longtemps.

C'est de la douloureuse séparation de Picasso que Dora Maar est véritablement devenue peintre. Des œuvres figuratives tragiques, comme le Portrait d'Eluard ou Autoportrait à l'enfant de 1946, traduisent, dans des tons sombres, la douleur des années d'après-guerre.

Après des années de lutte contre la dépression, [23] Dora Maar s'est enfermée dans ses propres souvenirs. C'est entre les années 1960 et 1970 que commence un répit lorsqu'elle expérimente des formats abstraits aux couleurs chatoyantes. Mais c'est dans les années 1980 que la peintre s'exprime pleinement dans ses nombreuses toiles du Luberon. Des peintures des paysages autour de sa maison à Ménerbes, [24] montraient des lieux dominés par le vent et les nuages, révélant fortement la lutte d'une artiste avec les fantômes de son passé

Relation avec Pablo Picasso

Dora Maar a vu Pablo Picasso pour la première fois à la fin de 1935 alors qu'elle réalisait des clichés promotionnels sur le tournage du film de Jean Renoir Le crime de Monsieur Lange. Elle était captivée par lui, mais ils ne se sont pas officiellement rencontrés. Maar a été présenté à Picasso quelques jours plus tard par leur ami commun Paul Eluard au Café des Deux Magots. L'histoire de leur première rencontre a été racontée par l'écrivain Jean-Paul Crespelle, «la jeune femme au visage sérieux, éclairé par des yeux bleu pâle qui paraissaient d'autant plus pâles à cause de ses sourcils épais; un visage sensible et inquiet, la lumière et l'ombre passant Elle a continué à enfoncer un petit couteau-stylo pointu entre ses doigts dans le bois de la table. Parfois elle manquait et une goutte de sang apparaissait entre les roses brodées sur ses gants noirs ... Picasso demandait à Dora de lui donner les gants et les enfermerait dans la vitrine qu'il gardait pour ses souvenirs. "

Picasso a été intrigué par le comportement séducteur et masochiste de Dora, qui a inspiré nombre de ses œuvres tout au long de leur relation. Leur liaison durera près de neuf ans, période pendant laquelle Picasso ne met pas fin à sa relation avec Marie-Thérèse Walter, mère de sa fille Maya.

Dora Maar a photographié les étapes successives de la création de Guernica, peint par Picasso

https://www.facebook.com/Art-du-Souvenir-638443152989156/photos/a.1555920111241451/1557307721102690

[booksandboba]

Book Releases in 2025

(Last Updated: 11.3.2024)

January

(7) Immortal, Sue Lynn Tan (novel)

(7) Ballad of Sword and Wine: Qiang Jin Jiu, Volume 3, Tang Jiu Qing (light novel)

(14) Stars of Chaos: Sha Po Lang, Volume 5, Priest (light novel)

(14) Spy x Family, Volume 13, Tatsuya Endo (graphic novels, manga)

(14) Witch Hat Atelier, Volume 13, Kamome Shirahama (graphic novels, manga)

(21) Dinghai Fusheng Records, Volume 2, Fei Tian Ye Xiang, Qian Er Bai, LV FEI (comic, manhua)

(21) The Remarried Empress, Volume 9, SUMPUL, HereLee (comics, unscrolled web comics)

February

(TBA) Pet Shop of Horrors: Collector's Edition, Volume 1, Matsuri Amino (graphic novels, omnibus, manga)

(TBA) Legend of Exorcism: Tianbao Fuyao Lu, Volume 1, Arise Zhang (light novel)

(4) Remnants of Filth: Yuwu, Volume 6, Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou (light novel)

(11) Case File Compendium: Bing An Ben, Volume 4, Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou (light novel)

(18) Peerless, Volume 3, Meng Xi Shi (light novel)

(25) Legend of Exorcism, Volume 1, Fei Tian Ye Xiang (light novel)

(25) Father, I Don't Want This Marriage, Volume 2, Hong Heesu, Roal, Yuri (comics, unscrolled web comics)

March

(4) The Undoing of Violet Claybourne, Emily Critchley (novel)

(25) The Ayakashi Hunter's Tainted Bride, Volume 1, Mamenosuke Fujimaru, Midori Yuma (manga, graphic novels)

April

(1) My Happy Marriage, Volume 5, Akumi Agitoki, Rito Kohsaka, Tsukiho Tsukioka (manga, graphic novels)

May

(TBA) Love Between Fairy and Devil, Volume 1, Jiu Lu Fei Xiang (light novel)

(20) Dinghai Fusheng Records, Volume 1, Fei Tian Ye Xiang (light novel)

June

(TBA) Joyful Reunion, Volume 1, Fei Tian Ye Xiang (light novel)

July

(3) Immortal the Blood, Molly X. Chang (novel)

August

September

October

November

December

[musenundmuseen]

New York, Mittwoch, 6. September 2023

Heute eine Führung mit Günter Maislinger durch das Grand Central Terminal, zu der Aussicht auf die Billionaires' Row vom Central Park aus, zum neuen World Trade Center und zu den 28 Künstler-Ateliers im Rahmen des Silver Art Projects (im 28. Stock des 4 World Trade Center).

Tief unter der Erde findet sich ein ca. 40 Meter langes Mosaik von Yayoi Kusama mit dem Titel: "A Message of Love Directly from My Heart unto the Universe".

Das Kontrastprogramm: Die hohen und extrem schlanken Wohntürme der Superreichen, die ihren Schatten auf den Central Park werfen.

Wieder teils unterirdisch der Bahnhof von Santiago Calatrava beim World Trade Center, mit dem Auge, das immer am 11. September geöffnet wird.

[caughtbetweenworlds]

"Vorsicht! Verbrenn dich nicht an der Kerze." 😘

Es war erst Nachmittag, als bereits in Paris die Sonne unterging. Der Himmel hatte sich rot gefärbt, trotz der vereinzelt grauen Wolken. Die verschwindende Sonne fiel Daria erst auf, als sie in ihrem Atelier-Zimmer kein Licht mehr hatte. Oder das gemeinsame Büro. In dem so oder so nur Chaos herrschte. Eine neue Staffelei, ein neuer Schreibtisch, Pavels Papierkram, der überall neben Darias Farben und Pinsel herumlag. Das Appartement ihres Onkels – nein, es war mittlerweile ihre eigene Wohnung – nahm nur spärlich Gestalt an. Renovierung und ein Mobiliar kostete jede Menge Geld. Und Daria hatte noch keine Arbeit. Allein konnte Pavel die Kosten nicht stemmen.

Daria sah von ihrer Kritzelei auf. Leise murmelte sie einen Fluch, während sie vom Boden aufstand, um die Stehlampe neben Pavels Schreibtisch anzuschalten. Noch mehr fluchte die neue Zamádis, als sie mit ihrem Bein gegen den Papierkorb stieß und den ganzen Inhalt im Büro verteilte. Hastig betätigte sie den Schalter. Sofort wurde das Büro in ein warmes Licht gehüllt. Ein Blick auf den Kalender über Pavels Laptop und Daria traf es wie ein Schlag. Noch in dieser Nacht war in ihrer Heimat das Lichterfest, was sie als Kind so sehr geliebt hatte. Bedrückt atmete die Brünette aus, sobald sie die Tür zum Büro aufzog und in den kalten Wohnungsflur trat. Ohne darüber nachzudenken, lief sie in jedes Zimmer und schaltete das Licht an. Auch in der Welt vor dem Spiegel war es der dunkelste Tag im Jahr. Selbst wenn Magie dort nicht an erster Stelle stand, so war Daria doch abergläubisch. Wie konnte sie auch nicht daran glauben, wenn ihre Welt voll mit Wundern und Magie war?

Hell erleuchtete ihre Wohnung, als sich die Wohnungstür langsam öffnete. Der Geisterjäger steckte seinen Kopf durch den Türspalt. „Hallo!“, rief er während des Eintreten. „Hi, mein Herz!“, erwiderte Daria aus der Küche. Sofort klingelten alle Alarmglocken bei ihrem Ehemann. Er stürmte durch den Flur, sein Schal hing noch halb um seinen Hals gewickelt. „Was um alles in der Welt suchst du in der Küche?!“, wollte er von der Brünetten wissen, die nur irritiert die Flyer diverser Pizzalieferanten studierte. Chez Tony war ihrer Meinung nach der beste Italiener um die Ecke. Da konnte Pavel sagen, was er wollte und behaupten, dass Pizzeria Mia die bessere Pizza macht. Generell das Phänomen der Pizza war Daria etwas beinahe neues. Diese Welt war überfordernd. Es hatte ziemlich lange gedauert, bis sie endlich verstanden hatte, was ein Smartphone war und dass man besser nicht auf irgendwelche dubiosen Werbekampagnen reagierte. Pavel musste schon mehr als einmal eine Waschmaschine zurückschicken oder irgendein Abonnement kündigen. „Ich dachte, wir bestellen bei Tony. Heute ist Pizza-Mittwoch.“ Erleichtert atmete Pavel aus, nachdem sein Blick hinter seine kleine Ehefrau wanderte und er sah, dass sie wirklich nichts in der Küche getan hatte. „Ist nicht beinahe jeden Tag Pizza-Mittwoch?“

„Nein“, erwiderte Daria trocken. „Morgen zum Beispiel gibt es kein Angebot“, streckte sie ihm die Zunge entgegen. Pavel nahm den Flyer in die Hand, den Daria mitgenommen hatte und las langsam jedes Angebot durch. Er sah über den Flyerrand zu Daria. „Hm? Was ist?“, hakte Daria irritiert nach. „Ich hab eigentlich eine Überraschung für dich.“

„Was? Eine Überraschung?“ Eigentlich mochte Daria keine Überraschungen. Vor allem nicht mit welchen sie ganz und gar nicht gerechnet hatte. Pavel nahm ihre Hand und zog sie durch den noch leeren Flur hinter sich her. „Was machst du?“, fragte sie immer nervöser nach. Die Krähe, die sie ihre ganze Reise über begleitet hatte, saß bereits auf dem neuen Sofa. Entspannt zupfte er an seinen Federn. Pavel bugsierte Daria auf das Sofa. „Warte hier!“, forderte er und verschwand aus dem Wohnzimmer. Nervös fummelte Daria an ihren Fingernägeln herum. „Bist du bereit?“, rief Pavel ihr aus dem Flur entgegen. „Kommt wohl drauf an!“, erwiderte sie. Uwe hopste auf ihre Schulter, als sie aufstand. Bevor Daria nach ihrem Ehemann sehen konnte, tauchte er auch schon mit zwei großen Kerzen auf. Irritiert blieb Daria stehen und starrte den Geisterjäger an. „Es ist unser zweites Lichterfest und ich weiß, dass du Schwierigkeiten hast, dich an das Leben hier zu gewöhnen“, begann er. Daria senkte automatisch ihren Blick. Natürlich hatte er recht. Diese Welt war immer noch merkwürdig. Pavel stellte die zwei Kerzen auf den Couchtisch ab und griff nach Darias Händen. „Ich dachte mir, dass ich ein bisschen Heimat hier her bringe. Wir können uns einen schönen Abend machen und die Kerzen die ganze Nacht ins Fenster stellen. Wenn du magst.“ Scheu hoben sich Darias Mundwinkel. „Danke, dass du dran gedacht hast“, murmelte sie. Vorsichtig drückte sie seine Hand in ihrer. „Bist du sicher, dass du mir mit Feuer überhaupt vertrauen kannst?“, witzelte sie, um ihre innere Schwermut zu verbergen. „Wir sollten das schon schaffen“, konterte er und reichte seiner Ehefrau eine Schachtel Streichhölzer. Daria nahm sie entgegen, öffnete sie und zündete sie sehr schwungvoll an. Hastig sprintete sie zu den Kerzen. Beinahe stolperte sie über ihre eigenen Füßen. Noch hastiger zündete die junge Zamádis die Kerzen an. „Vorsicht! Verbrenn dich nicht an der Kerze.“

„Hm? – Ouch!“ Daria wedelte mit ihrer linken Hand in der Luft umher. Sie hörte ein Lachen. Uwe war von ihrer Schulter auf Pavels geflogen, sobald er gerochen hatte, dass Daria wieder einen Unfall haben könnte. „Komm her“, zog Pavel Daria zu sich, und hob ihre verbrannten Finger zu seinen Lippen. Langsam stellte sich die kleine Zamádis auf ihre Zehenspitzen und stahl sich einen Kuss von ihrem Ehemann. „Habe ich gehört, dass wir bei Tony bestellen?“, neckte sie ihn.

[jurjenkvanderhoek]

DE CAMINO VAN ANTÓN HURTADO HEEFT GEEN STIPOP DE HORIZON

Hij vindt zijn inspiratie al wandelend langs ’s Heeren wegen. Dolend en dwalend door de landschappen van Navarra en Baskenland. Zijn thuishaven is Bilbao, zijn geboortegrond Pamplona. Door die stad loopt een pad naar Santiago de Compostella in Galicië. Het einde van de voettocht naar de relieken van de beschermheilige van Spanje, apostel Jacobus de Meerdere. De oude Keltische weg naar het verre westen, het einde van de wereld – finis terrae. Deze wordt nu schoorvoetend, stapvoets maar met opgeheven hoofd aangevangen. Als is het een pelgrimage, als doet men boete. Of als is de reiziger op kalme zoektocht naar God en komt zichzelf tegen langs berg en dal.

Antón Hurtado echter loopt om zijn kunst te laven. Caminar para disfrutar del arte. Zijn wandeling is de voedingsbodem voor zijn scheppen, en camino a crear. Hij is over dat Jacobspad gegaan, hij heeft heuvels bewandeld en bergen beklommen. Op zoek naar de essentie van het landschap. Onderweg details registrerend. Schetst deze in een realistische stijl om het gevoel en de idee bij die plek vast te houden. Maakt aquarellen van het landschap en werkt deze thuis in het atelier uit in abstracte composities. Daar in de werkruimte vindt hij uiteindelijk het wezenlijke van de omgeving, de kern van de realiteit.

De Spaanse kunstenaar laat op dit moment zijn werk zien bij Kunstlokaal No.8 in Jubbega. Naast de zichtbaarheid van het landschap is het surreële daarvan geplaatst. Om het verhaal duidelijk te maken verduidelijkt galeriehouder Marcel Prins. Surrealisme als in bovennatuurlijk, het onzichtbare zijn. De lijnen en vlakken die in de natuur te herkennen zijn wanneer ik er oog voor heb. Meestal zijn deze landmerken overwoekerd door mijn gedachten. Door aannames op welke manier ik zal kijken. Vooroordelen hoe de wereld erbij hoort te liggen. De vertaling van Hurtado overzie ik niet, in eerste instantie. Deze ligt evenwel voor het oprapen, aan mijn voeten zo gezegd. In de lappendeken kan ik de voetstappen van de kunstenaar volgen. Met hem oplopen. Want in zijn werk gaat het om het op weg zijn, om het kijken, de beweging en het maken.

Hij is letterlijk op weg door de landschappen van zijn geboortestreek. En figuurlijk op reis door zijn leven, door het oeuvre. Hij gaat almaar door, loopt volhardend voort. Maar niet recht op zijn doel af. Dat zou zijn eindpunt betekenen. Daar is de kunstenaar niet aan toe, nog. Hij wil onderzoeken, experimenteren. Het landschap onderwijst hem, hij is de leerling en leert doorlopend. De vormen en kleuren, de ruimte en het licht, neemt hij tijdens de voettochten mee in zijn schetsboek. Op de wandelingen legt hij zijn waarnemingen vast. Deze geschetste herinneringen werkt hij uit tot de idee zichtbaar wordt, het ondervonden gevoel op die plek.

Het is zijn emotie die in hoekige vlakken op doek en papier staan. Deze vertaling van de veelvormige realiteit tot enkelvoudige abstractie laat mij het tweeluik “zuurkoolpakhuis” van Willem van Althuis in gedachten komen. Willem deed toen in al zijn ongekunstelde oprechtheid wat Antón overdacht en weloverwogen nu doet. Onbekend als Hurtado is met dat werk blijkt de geest dezelfde. Wandelen er twee zielen langs de historie met éénzelfde gedachte. Lijkt Willems’ idee gereïncarneerd in Antóns’ denken. De laatste heeft deze aanzet sterk en tot in finesse uitgewerkt. Maar de geest van de kunst waart door alle landen. De kunst kent geen grenzen. Friesland is een provincie van Spanje. Kunst is niet taaleigen. Iedereen kan het spreken en elke verstaander kan het beluisteren. Soms alleen moet je de toespraak vaker horen om de uitspraak te doorzien.

Antón Hurtado verstaat het landschap dat hij bewandelt. Hij doorziet de omgeving op zijn voettocht. Registreert de zichtbaarheid. Legt zijn ervaring vast in transparant geschilderde horizontalen en verticalen. Net als de flora en de fauna in dat landschap ontmoeten deze wiskundige eenheden op doek elkaar. Daardoor en daarmee worden nieuwe vormen gemaakt. De creatie neemt niet altijd duidelijk de oorsprong in herinnering. De horizon die het landschap tekent is veelal ver te zoeken of helemaal niet aanwezig. Want de kunstenaar graaft dieper dan de zichtbare werkelijkheid. Het is zijn realiteit die is ervaren en ondergaan bij het kijken. Het is een herschepping van de veelheid aan indrukken. Die verscheidenheid wordt gereduceerd tot een enkelvoudige uitdrukking. De essentie van zijn reflectie op het landschap.

Is voor de pelgrim Santiago de Compostella het einddoel, of Mekka, of Trondheim, of de Sint Pietersberg, of waar dan ook om zich te bezinnen. Voor Hurtado is het wandelen naar en aankomen op een bepaalde plek niet het eindpunt. Eigenlijk begint dan pas zijn tocht, zijn reis naar de verdere grens om deze vervolgens over te steken. De doelstelling wordt voortdurend gewijzigd. Hij tekent zijn eigen plattegrond uit, maakt zijn persoonlijke navigatie. De stip op de horizon wil hij niet bereiken, nog niet. Het oeuvre breidt daarom almaar uit. Wordt breder en verdiept zich gaandeweg. Want iedere keer en na elk volgend schilderij kan de vormgeving met nog minder beeld toe. Om de bodem te bereiken, het hart sneller te laten kloppen. De kern te halen, te komen tot het wezen. Iedere volgende creatie is het doel, de bestemming die bij leven nooit zal worden bereikt.

CAMINAR. Tekeningen en schilderijen van Antón Hurtado bij Kunstlokaal No.8, Schoterlandseweg 55 in Jubbega-Schurega. 7 tot en met 29 oktober 2023.