#françois borne

[elmartillosinmetre]

"Ha sido emocionante abrir camino con el saxo en la clásica"

[El saxofonista utrerano Manu Brazo en una plaza sevillana / P. J. V.]

El saxofonista utrerano Manu Brazo presenta en disco ‘Fantasia’, un paseo por el mundo de la ópera con su instrumento

Llegó al saxo casi por casualidad, por eliminación, pero acabó prendado del instrumento. "Cuando entré en el Conservatorio de mi pueblo yo quería estudiar piano, pero en la selección me quedé sin piano y luego sin clarinete, que era mi segunda opción. De los instrumentos que me quedaban cogí el saxofón, pensando en cambiarme en cuanto pudiera. Pero tuve la suerte de coincidir con unos compañeros extraordinarios y un profesor, Paco Valle, que nos enganchó a todos desde la primera clase". Quien así habla es el saxofonista utrerano Manu Brazo, quien después de seis años en Londres volvió el pasado a Sevilla con intención de quedarse.

–Cuénteme esa experiencia londinense...

–Fui en 2016, cuando terminé el Superior en Sevilla, para estudiar en el Royal College of Music. En principio tuve una clase con el que sería luego mi profesor, Kyle Horch, y me sorprendió no sólo el centro, que es una maravilla, con una actividad fabulosa, sino el tipo de clase, radicalmente diferente a lo que yo había conocido hasta entonces. Así que hice la prueba, fue bien, me admitieron, tuve una buena beca, hice dos años de máster, una experiencia increíble, trabajando mucho, porque te dan muchas oportunidades profesionales, hay infinidad de concursos. Me quedé otro año más estudiando Arte y Diploma, un curso más práctico, ya que te quitan las asignaturas teóricas. Gané varios concursos, entré en programas de jóvenes intérpretes que están muy codiciados en Londres, se presenta gente de todo el mundo. Fui haciendo contactos y tenía cada vez más trabajo (llegué a tener 45 conciertos en un año), y decidí quedarme a vivir en Londres, hasta el año pasado, en que pensé que ya era hora de volver. Ahora vivo en Mairena del Aljarafe aunque el plan es volverme a mi pueblo. Al principio seguía yendo a Inglaterra prácticamente cada semana, una locura; ahora estoy organizándome mejor. El proceso ha merecido la pena. No me puedo quejar.

–¿Qué ha cambiado de su anterior CD, Folk Lore, que grabó con su paisano, el pianista Pepe Rodríguez?

–Son muy distintos en estilo, en repertorio y concepto de disco, pero tienen un sello común: música que quiero hacer divertida, fácil de escuchar, aunque sea muy difícil de tocar muchas veces. Quiero quitarle a la música clásica el aura de elitista que aún pueda tener. Me gustaría que un buen recital de clásica no se diferenciara de un buen concierto acústico de un grupo pop, aunque el concepto y el contexto sean distintos. Trato de transmitir, de llegar a todo el mundo. Además son discos autoproducidos.

–Su marca es Vario…

–Sí, es la discográfica que estoy construyendo. De momento sólo están mis discos, pero quiero abrirla a cualquiera que desee llevar su música a la gente, y hacerlo como lo hice yo, con libertad absoluta para elegir el contenido, el formato y el diseño. Es algo que lleva tiempo, pero espero conseguirlo.

–Lo acompaña Bryan Evans...

–Sí, un referente mundial de la ópera. Vienen cantantes a estudiar con él de todo el mundo. Lo conocí porque acompañaba a los ganadores de un concurso. Tocamos juntos la Fantasía de Carmen. Le llamó la atención que yo tocase eso con el saxofón. Montamos un proyecto a partir de ahí. Empezamos a hacer conciertos y se fue desarrollando hasta que le propuse la grabación.

–El Aria de Bozza es la única original para saxo de todo el CD.

–Exacto. Es una pieza que llevo tocando desde los 9 años. Es de las piezas melódicas más bonitas que tenemos de nuestro repertorio. Es como una Vocalise de Rajmáninov. A Bozza no le gustaba el saxo, pero esta obra fue un encargo, y cuando se acercaba la hora del estreno y no la había escrito terminó por arreglar una pieza de Bach. A todo el mundo le encantó, nadie se dio cuenta de su origen, hasta pasados unos días. Es una obra que me acompaña desde siempre.

–¿De dónde sale el arreglo del aria de Lenski de Eugen Oneguin?

–Tomamos un arreglo que hay para violín, aunque lo tuvimos que rehacer lógicamente. Es nuestra pieza favorita del disco. Funciona muy bien con el saxo.

–¿Y la Fantasía de Gershwin?

–Es un popurrí de canciones que arregló Ralph Martino para saxofón y banda. Está hecho en forma de fantasía con variaciones virtuosísticas. Le da el toque un poco menos clásico a este repertorio.

–El aria de la Reina de la noche supongo que sería un desafío.

–Fue un reto absoluto. Es la pieza más corta, pero es muy complicada. Lo escuchas y parece simple, aparte el momento de coloratura en el sobreagudo, pero es muy difícil con el saxo. Fueron meses para preparar sólo esos dos compases. El tener que llegar tan arriba ya es difícil, pero hacerlo como las buenas sopranos, con esa conexión en la que el legato y el staccato se suceden con naturalidad, eso fue un quebradero de cabeza, pero conseguí que funcionara con ataques de aire, aguantando cada una de las notas: escuchas ese pasaje aislado y parece una soprano cantando. Es una pieza que a la gente le encanta.

–Esa Fantasía de La Traviata de Lovreglio es muy desconocida.

–Era original para clarinete y orquesta de cuerda. Tuvimos que cambiar el registro y la estructura, hemos cambiado un par de variaciones de orden. Junto a ese pasaje de la Reina de la noche es lo más difícil del CD. El clarinete tiene un registro un poco más alto y utiliza mucho ese registro alto. Tanto las posiciones como los saltos para nosotros son antinaturales. Hay partes que no quería adaptar porque estaban muy bien escritas y eso me ha exigido mucho trabajo extra.

–La Fantasía de Carmen de Borne es para flauta...

–Esta fantasía está muy bien escrita. La de flauta original está en la menor, pero Iwan Roth la adaptó para el saxo bajándola un tono, hasta sol menor, y para los pianistas no es tan fácil, con tantos bemoles, y a los directores de orquesta también les choca. Pero en ese sol menor nos metemos ya más dentro del registro del saxofón, y Roth consiguió que funcionara muy bien, pese a la dificultad de muchos pasajes. La empecé a tocar en 2016. Me ha acompañado en muchos concursos y conciertos. Quería que al grabarla fuera algo muy especial.

[Manu Brazo en una foto promocional / JULIA BUCHALSKA]

–¿Cómo ha sido su experiencia con este repertorio en Londres?

–Ha sido emocionante abrir camino, porque el saxofón sigue siendo un instrumento que en la música clásica, al menos hablo por mi experiencia en Londres, no termina de encajar, y tanto en ciclos como por ejemplo en las radios eran muchas veces reticentes a incluir programas con saxo. Pero por otro lado, cuando he podido tocar en algunos festivales importantes, la respuesta ha sido buenísima y la gente se sorprende del sonido, del timbre, y esa sorpresa ha jugado a nuestro favor, porque demuestra que todavía en la clásica se pueden escuchar cosas nuevas.

–El disco está entero hecho con el saxo alto, ¿es su favorito?

–Mi saxo favorito es realmente el barítono, es el rol que más me gusta. Cuando escucho un cuarteto de cuerda siempre mi atención se centra en el violonchelo. El alto me gusta también mucho por la versatilidad, el registro y las piezas que puedes tocar con él. Lo que ocurre es que cuando empiezas a viajar comienzan los problemas con el barítono. Me encantaría llevarme el barítono a todos lados y hacer programas con el barítono y el alto. Pero dificulta mis viajes, es un problema para los programadores, que tienen que comprar asientos extra, y entonces llegó un momento en que por razones prácticas lo fui dejando y me he convertido casi en especialista en saxo alto, aunque espero hacer todavía cosas interesantes con el barítono.

–Tanto en los discos como en sus conciertos suele hacer un repertorio muy clásico, cuando el saxofón tiene un repertorio muy amplio de música de vanguardia, ¿no le interesa?

–Sí, sí, y de hecho en marzo de 2022 estrené con la Guildford Symphony Orchestra un Concierto para saxo soprano y barítono de Darrel Davison, una obra muy bonita inspirada en el tríptico de El jardín de las delicias de El Bosco. Pero ahora mismo ese no es mi mundo, no es mi ámbito de trabajo. Hay muchísimos especialistas, gente que defiende todo ese repertorio mucho mejor de lo que yo pudiera hacerlo. Lo que hago me encanta y en cierta forma traigo al presente músicas de otras épocas a través de los arreglos, y eso también podemos considerarlo música contemporánea. He dejado un poco de lado las músicas de vanguardia, que toqué durante mucho tiempo, porque estudié todo Grado Medio en Sevilla con Alfonso Romero, un compositor muy de vanguardia que tiene muchas obras para saxo y con el que trabajé muy intensamente la música actual. No es algo que tenga cerrado ni mucho menos, en algún momento puedo retomarlo perfectamente.

–Cuál es ahora su día a día…

–Un aula online. Gracias a la pandemia creé un canal de tutoriales de saxo a través de Youtube. Era un canal abierto a todo el mundo y tuvo mucho éxito, con millones de reproducciones. A partir de ahí monté una escuela para enseñar saxofón online. Me vine a Sevilla ya con la escuela concebida. Parto del trabajo que hago en redes sociales y oferto una enseñanza de alto nivel para todo el mundo de habla hispana, ese es mi ámbito. Han pasado más de 400 alumnos por la escuela, con acceso a cursos, partituras, clases personalizadas. Es ahora mi criatura. Si no estoy viajando o estudiando repertorio estoy con mi escuela, en cualquier ciudad en la que me encuentre. Es algo que me gusta mucho, tanto la edición de audio y vídeo como la enseñanza.

–Su anterior disco iba sobre folclore, este sobre ópera, ¿y el próximo?

–Está cociéndose. Seguramente sea otra vez con Pepe Fernández y hay dos ideas, una que sería un repertorio que hicimos ya hace tiempo, y es una mirada al Barroco, y otra que sería acercarnos a repertorio del Romanticismo tardío, un espacio en el que creo que el saxofón funciona muy bien, por sus cambios de color y su expresividad.

–¿Alguna cosa por Sevilla este verano?

–Sí, este programa Fantasia lo haré con el Cuarteto Bruma el 11 de agosto en las Noches del Alcázar, readaptado y con una obra nueva añadida de Vaughan Williams. Será mi primer concierto con el grupo. Son gente de Sevilla, muy joven, que ha pasado por la OJA, y tienen un nivel impresionante. Cuando los escuché me dije, ya he encontrado mi cuarteto para hacer música de cámara. Estoy muy ilusionado.

[Diario de Sevilla. 9-07-2023]

FANTASIA EN SPOTIFY

[filmjunky-99]

h a p p y b i r t h d a y

Stéphane Rideau

25 July 1976

🎈🎈🎈

[pic: rideau as david, sitcom, 1998]

[zenlesszonezero]

As the conspiracy reaches its finale, the Void Hunter joins the fight.

Uncover the Conspiracy in Zenless Zone Zero's All-New Version "A Storm of Falling Stars", S-Rank Agent Hoshimi Miyabi is here! With S-Rank Agent Asaba Harumasa Limited-Time Giveaway! Pre-register to obtain additional rewards.

[calciopics]

Born on this day: Michel Platini (21.06.1955)

[thejarlofwhiterun]

Peasants Bringing Home a Calf Born in the Fields Jean François Millet French, 1864 Oil on canvas

[famousborntoday]

François, Baron Englert is a Belgian theoretical physicist and 2013 Nobel Prize laureate.

Link: François Englert

[artmialma]

François Miville-Deschênes (born 1969)

[saintescuderia]

pancakes (pt. 2)

AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: apologies for the delay; was marshalling the aus gp lol. enjoy.

P2 - hamstring and piriformis stretches

“Y/N Tessio?”

“She works in hospitality.” Oscar clarified without an ounce of stress. He wasn’t embarrassed by this. Yes, he was close friends with a member of the F1 Hospitality. Yes, he was asking that part of his Formula 1 contract include that you become his personal trainer. Yes, he wasn’t going to accept any contract without that condition. 

Otmar didn’t know that last fact when he had laughed off Oscar’s request the last time they had spoken. It was the last nail in the coffin that showed to Oscar what had been gnawing at his gut for so quite some time: this team wasn’t quite right. Now, at lunch with Zak Brown, who had wanted more official meeting in the McLaren motorhome, Oscar laid out the same request. And Zak Brown seemed understand the severity of it: Oscar Piastri would not accept anything unless you were right there with him. 

This morning was only proof of it all. His anxiety had kept him up and it was only after finding you that everything seemed to work itself out. After you had made him run a lap around the track, you promptly dumped some melatonin gummies in his hand and sent him off to bed to sleep. And sleep he did. Oscar had woken up feeling more refreshed than he had in a long, long while. 

Refreshed, Oscar had taken your advice and called Lily. He mentioned love languages and she gushed. The call ended with them sounding more on page and stronger than ever. Oscar also took your advice in calling his dad to ask about a lawyer. His dad had been surprised that his son had been so forward thinking.

Oscar had admitted it was your idea. His dad stopped being surprised; of course it had been your idea. 

“Oh, they’re good people, Osc. The sort you need around you in a place like Formula 1! Make sure you have them on your team!” Oscar was already thinking what his dad was suggesting, agreeing wholeheartedly. He needed you on his team.

And that was before Oscar arrived at the Alpine motor home for one of the staff to let him known that hospitality had delivered some specially made protein pancakes and fresh orange juice for his breakfast. There was a note under cutlery with your scrawl of ‘take magnesium.’ 

He asked his Alpine trainer for some, the very same one you thought was an utter dickhead. Said trainer, François, somehow didn’t have any supplements. Sighing, Oscar dug into your famous pancakes that had the perfected macros for an athlete of his sort. He would just ask you for magnesium later - and take your usual heat of having a “fucking dropkick of a trainer.” It was just more and more proof that Alpine wasn’t looking good for him. Even he knew it was bad for a trainer to not be prepared like that.

Now, in a room full of papaya orange, Oscar looked at the American CEO and waited patiently for Zak Brown to tell him what he thought about the request to have you working alongside McLaren Racing as part of Oscar’s contract.

“What, um, what qualifications does she have?” Zak asked, shifting slightly to type on his computer. Oscar watched as Zak’s eyes grew as he stared at the screen. “Oh, I know her! She makes an solid cappucino!” 

“Melbournian barista.” Oscar smiled. It was true, you had gotten your barista license back when you were living in Melbourne. And if there was one thing Melbournians were proud of, it was their coffee. “She grew up near Albert Park.” Oscar added the tidbit you had dropped upon first meeting and Oscar was basking in the Australian accent. 

"Says she was born in Monaco." Zak said.

"What?" Oscar frowned, completely taken aback at this. You had never mentioned anything to him about being born in Monaco. You were from Melbourne, near the beach. That's what you had told him.

Nothing about Monaco, Monte Carlo.

In Europe.

But Oscar didn't have time to process that because Zak Brown continued on. “Still, it doesn’t say anything about Y/N being trained in anything health or sports-related.” The McLaren CEO said, his eyes skimming over his computer screen that likely read your resume that was stored in the shared F1 database. Formula One Group and the FIA had allowed team principals and CEOs to access these files when they needed to identify a snitch that had violated the NDA.

It was all too often that a team suffered a blow by a Hospo staff member whistleblowing some important fact they overheard while serving the refreshments. 

“She knows about Daniel.” Oscar said. Zak blinked, clearly taken aback. He swallowed and Oscar quickly added, “And no, she didn’t tell me. I figured it out that she knew and told her.” 

“Okay, you’re right. I do feel better.”

“Better enough to do another lap?” You grinned at your friend whose sweaty face dropped into a deadpan. You had both slowed down as you came to the starting line. Now that was nearing the 6am mark, there were more and more people starting to come out. 

But you were with a driver. You knew all too well that it would be fine. Drivers are untouchable. You wanted to milk this for all it was worth. “Come on, Piazza! A light jog!” You added, wanting to enjoy this just all the little bit more. 

“You’re insane. No.” To prove his point, Oscar actually came down to sit on the road. And then he lay flat on his back. You watched him and exhaled, accepting one lap was all you were going to get. Hell, that was more cardio than you normally did. And besides, you knew Oscar had a rough night and was running in Sambas. Athlete aside, you were just surprised he managed the lap in as is. 

So you came to sit beside him, except you didn’t lay back and try to catch your breath as he did. No, instead you stretched your legs out and then leaned forward to stretch out your calf muscles. 

Oscar looked over at you and rolled his eyes. The ever insane gym junkie Y/N. He knew he should be doing the same. His flexibility had really taken a toll and besides that, he was stiff and restless from all the travelling and the stressful conversations with his girlfriend and team principals. Oscar sat up and brought his legs out just like you and leaned forward to stretch his hamstring. Just like you. 

You said nothing about this but you didn’t need to; the smug grin on your face was enough. You switched legs shortly. Oscar copied. You brought both legs together. So did he. You leaned back and brought your knee up to stretch your piriformis. Oscar begrudgingly did so. And so it went as you and Oscar stretched your entire bodies out right there at the starting line of the Sochi Circuit. It was when they finished the reverse pigeon pose on both sides that you stretched your legs out and made no move for another stretch. You both settled in a comfortable silence and watched the sky. 

Oscar watched the sunrise and smiled, feeling a lot lighter after the run and the stretching. He glanced over at you watching the sun and felt a sense of appreciation for you.

“Think carefully of who you choose to drive for.” You said, breaking him from the reverie. “This will be your first F1 team and it will reflect on how other teams in the future will see you.” Oscar was quiet as he thought about your words. Some birds were starting to fly across and Oscar noted how your eyes trailed them. 

Oscar took a steading moment and then said what had been on his mind the entire night. “Daniel Ricciardo is going to be dropped. Zak Brown wants me to be his replacement.” 

You didn’t react. 

You didn’t have to. 

All you did was keep watching the birds. 

Oscar pursed his lips. Of course you weren’t surprised. You were never surprised. And you already knew about Daniel.

“You know about Daniel and McLaren.” It really wasn’t a question. You offered him a soft smile in response and sat up to stretch out your hand to gently squeeze his. Oscar frowned. 

“My platonic brother in Christ,” you began with a sad smile and he grimaced, “you have a good heart. Don’t let this place take that shit away from you.” 

You let go of his hand and Oscar sat up to face you. “Why didn’t you— you didn’t say anything.” 

“It’s not my place, man, I just make the coffee.” You said with a full fledged smile. Oscar was at a loss for words. You often worked shifts at McLaren - he knew that because those were the days you had double sessions at the gym. Oscar never found it in himself to ask. Now, he did. 

“Do you not like… McLaren or anything?” Oscar asked. “Should I not drive for them.”

You were silent for a moment looking ahead of you before you spoke. “No, nothing wrong with the team.” It was clear there was something wrong with something. Oscar couldn’t ask because you stood up and held out a hand to him. He took it and let you pull him up. “Come on. Reserve drivers are only needed after lunch. I’ll give you some melatonin to help you sleep and then you can call your girlfriend.”

“And find a lawyer.” Oscar added. “But I think Zak Brown could get me one.”

“Always have your own lawyer.” You said with such a firm conviction that it had Oscar looking at you with curious eyes. 

Sometimes, he wondered how you knew so much about the ins and outs of life in Formula 1. 

“So you’re saying Y/N actually follows the NDA?” Zak asked, bringing his hands together to rest under his chin. 

“Yep. Wakes up at 4am everyday and works out for two hours. Doesn’t drink or smoke and if given the chance, would probably run a half marathon at every track. She's worked with F1 for years so she knows the diet and routine of a driver.” Oscar paused and then tried to remember some more facts now that he had his chance, his opening.

Never mind that he didn't know you were apparently born in the heart of Formula 1.

Though, that reminded him— “She's fluent in French. And Arabic. Which will be good for the Middle Eastern and European races." Oscar added, thinking of your background. Or what he did know of your background. "And she has an international license.” Or he thought you did, vaguely remembering you mention something about cars in Japan. Japan!

“I think she also speaks Japanese pretty good.” Oscar said, remembering Spa last year and seeing you conversing with Yuki Tsunoda as you made him a matcha.

“Hmm.” Zak pursed his lips. His eyes scanned over the resume once more and then nodded. “Look, Oscar, it’s no secret that I want you for McLaren. I think you’d be a very good fit here. If you think Y/N would be a good fit with McLaren also, then I’m onboard with that.” 

Oscar nodded, finally letting himself let go of the seriousness and let out a smile. He honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was actually happening.

But if his father had taught him anything, it was to not get too carried away. Oscar kept composed as he kept his face as neutral as possible and smiled politely. “That sounds really awesome, Zak, thank you. When could we get everything in paper so I can go over it with her?” And his lawyer.

“I’ll speak to some people today and we’ll get a rough contract outline ready. Helen, the PR manager, will send it to you and Y/N,” Zak looked back at his screen, “to the email on the resume here. And then we can organise a meeting and move forward.” Oscar smiled once more, feeling the stress and tension dissipate from his shoulders. 

“But,” Zak then added, “I can’t really promise anything. The lawyers will need to sort this out since she’s already under contract with the Formula One Group and if they won’t release her then there might not be much we can do about it.”

Oscar nodded, frowning slightly. “I understand.” Admittedly, that was something he hadn’t thought about. He’d been too preoccupied trying to get Y/N a place with him on whatever team he joined that he didn’t think about her tie with Formula One Group. 

“If all goes well, though,” Zak was quick to add, seeing Oscar frown, “we could even sponsor some study for her and help her work her way up. If she’s as dedicated as you say, and has that sense of integrity and spirit, then McLaren would be perfect for her.”

Oscar knew Zak was trying to butter him up with the promise of having Y/N. And Oscar had to admit, it was working. This was about you, after all.

There was a knock on the door. Oscar recognised Zak’s PA but couldn’t recall a name. She offered him a warm smile and then apologised. “I’m so sorry to interrupt but Lando wants to speak with you.” 

“Yes of course!” Zak beamed. “Send him in.” He stood up and Oscar’s manners kicked in and he stood up also, assuming the meeting was now over. This reminded Zak of him and he returned his attention at the young Australia. “Unless you had any questions or anything else you wanted to add?” Zak’s question made Oscar want to laugh since they were both already standing up and Lando Norris was already through the door. 

Oscar knew how these politics were going to go. If he did sign with McLaren, Lando Norris was going to be the number 1 in everything. And not just in driver priority. 

“Nope, all good. Thank you again for listening and being so receptive to my request about Y/N.” Oscar held out his hand. Zak shook it and smiled. 

“I have a good feeling about this, Oscar. I’m looking forward to the future.” Zak said. He came around the table to greet Lando and Oscar smiled at his soon to be teammate. 

This wasn’t the first time Oscar had met Lando Norris, such was the small world of karting and racing. However, it was the first time that Oscar had seen Lando since Zak Brown had made it clear that he wanted him to be Norris’ new teammate.

Oscar wasn’t sure how to feel about Lando, knowing that the driver was equal points talented as he was, well, spoiled. Not that a spoiled F1 driver was a novelty, but Oscar had noticed that Y’N’s mornings before a McLaren shift always ended with a long sparring session with the punching bag.  

“Alright?” Lando said with a lazy acknowledgement. “Heard the news.”

Oscar’s kept his face straight. Of course Lando Norris would see no need for subtlety. The PR training all drivers went through for the media usually extended to the Paddock as a whole as conversations were always sanitised. Everyone knew that what you said wasn’t what you meant. Talking around the issue was part of the life of Formula 1. 

Oscar was used to this. So seeing Lando so abrupt about this, and in front of Zak Brown, was quite telling. Especially when it was doubtful that Daniel himself knew anything about his imminent redundancy. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Nice seeing you around.” Oscar said, keeping himself polite and respectful - and making no comment about the news. He looked at Zak Brown once more and offered his thanks before letting the PA show him out of the room. Oscar looked back to see Lando staring at him. Oscar considered just what he was signing up for. 

Still, Oscar could turn around and leave the office with a weight off his shoulders. Even though he knew how it would look, walking out of McLaren, he was surprisingly more at ease than ever. Sure, Oscar knew the fallout of leaving Alpine and joining McLaren would be bad; especially if it meant kicking out another driver - and one that was a personal hero, but he felt a lot more at ease. No matter the fallout, no matter Lando Norris, he knew it would be okay. Because he was going to have you right there next to him. 

There was no way Oscar was going to survive Formula 1 without you. And your gym addiction. 

< prev ch [1] | next ch [3] >

taglist:

@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery

[lellalombardiapologist]

actually I will elaborate on why didier and gilles are such a tragedy: when you think about it, they're the only iconic duo in which both are dead.

Jackie Stewart lost François Cevert and retired immediately after that, devastated by the pain of his loss, but he's still alive even if he was born in 1939!

Nigel Mansell lost Elio de Angelis and dedicated his next victory to him, he's still alive and still remembers him dearly.

Ayrton is dead, but Alain is still there.

But Didier, Didier is not here. He is not walking around paddocks with a cane, old and grey-haired, remembering Gilles at official events. In virtue of him being still alive the weight of the guilt on his shoulders would have settled off, and maybe not many people would still call him a traitor to his face. He would deserve the same pride, the same spark in his eyes Alain has when talking about his unique relationship with Ayrton, but talking about Gilles instead. About how their souls were made of the same material, how deep their friendship was and how sad it was they never had time to talk. But he would have his unique memories, and his sons, and his name would be cleared.

But he's not there. His name is still dragged in mud to this day.

Be grateful that your favourite drivers (retired or not) are still alive, that they can talk, they can spend time together. Because Didier and Gilles cannot do that anymore.

[gophergal]

File them under "canon straight couple I'm weirdly obsessed with"

(headcanon rambling under the cut)

Ok I've been thinking about Spy and Scout's Ma SOOOO much. Woe, headcanons be upon ye:

To start with, their names are François Donadieu and Rose Cusack. They never married, but have been in a committed relationship for 23 years as of 1968

François is four years younger than Rose, they met in 1944 when he was 22 and she was 26, while she was working as a waitress.

Spy had been sent to speak with an informant who, unbeknownst to Spy, was going to doublecross him. After giving him bad information, the informant poisoned his coffee when he was distracted, which Rose noticed. Unable to think of anything else, she spilled his coffee on him to prevent François from being killed. When she brought him another mug, she also gave him a note to explain. He took her to dinner afterwards to show his appreciation.

She didn't tell him about her children until their 3rd date, terrified that her being a widow and single mother, with the majority of her children born out of wedlock, would be a major deal breaker. It was, in fact, a bonus, as Spy had always wanted a large family

Spy immediately stepped into a doting father role to her sons, and remained so until Jeremy was around 4. He will freely admit to his beloved that these were the best years of his life

His leaving the family came after a hit was issued on them that he only barely managed to thwart. He and Rose mutually agreed that it would be safest if he kept a distance from his family. François' only contact with them was to send money home, watch from afar in disguise, and occasionally rendezvous with Rose

Bonus Scout related headcanons that are still relevant:

Scout gets his buck teeth and green eyes from Spy (who has had work done on his teeth ((thats even canonical)) and has partial green/hazel heterochromia in both eyes). Rose misses her beau's natural charming smile, and is secretly happy that Jeremy inherited it.

Meetings with Spy leave a very distinct cigarette smell on Rose, which Jeremy recognizes and hates. The idea that some asshole is putting the moves on his ma pisses him off. As such, he hates that scent and Spy by extension (pre-spydad reveal)

Rose is somewhat ditsy and Spy is arrogant. Jeremy was cursed with the dumbest parts of both parents. François is deeply disappointed in this

[octavianacidicbreastmilk]

françois arnaud looks hot and fuckable to me exclusively while wearing the cardinal robe. straight up one of the lucky men born each generation where they should be put 24/7 in a skirt, order on sentence of death if disattended

[theroyalsandi]

Grand Ducal Family of Luxembourg - Hereditary Grand Duke Guillaume, Hereditary Grand Duchess Stéphanie and Prince Francois perpetuated the tradition of the baptism of the Rose - started in 1891 - wanting every member of the Grand-Ducal Family to have a rose in their name.

Prince François, born on March 23, 2023 was thus honored by the "Lëtzebuerger Rousefrënn" assembly with a "Prince François de Luxembourg" rose planted at the Roseraie du Château de Munsbach during a ceremony attended by Minister Martine Hansen.

The Grand Duche - formerly "Country of Roses" - was widely recognized for its exceptional rose heritage until World War I. The association thus strives to value the flower as well as to maintain this lively tradition.

(Photo by Kary Barthelmey) | June 04, 2024

[artthatgivesmefeelings]

François Gérard, after (French, 1770-1837) Saint Teresa of Avila, 1827 Infirmerie Marie-Thérèse Saint Teresa of Avila (1515-1582) was a Carmelite nun born in Castile during the sixteenth century. In her writings Teresa recorded a vision of an angel plunging a long golden spear or arrow with a flaming tip into her heart. This symbolic implanting of amor dei was mentioned in the papal bull of her canonisation (1622) and became the most popular motif in representations of the saint after this date: the most famous of these is undoubtedly Bernini's marble sculpture in the church of Santa Maria della Vittoria, Rome.

[gifsbyflcrencepughs]

↳ public ! at the source link below, you will have access to #150 gifs ( 268 x 150 ) of françois arnaud in surface (s1). françois is of european descent and born in 1985, so they should be cast accordingly. all gifs were made by me from scratch so please do not claim/repost/edit as your own.

please note: françois arnaud is openly bisexual, please keep that in mind when portraying him

[whencyclopedia]

Voltaire

Voltaire (1694-1778) was a French author, historian, and philosopher whose thoughts on religious toleration and moderation of authoritarian power were influential during the Enlightenment. His most famous work today is the satirical Candide, which presents Voltaire's critical thoughts on other philosophers, the Catholic Church, and the French state in order to highlight the need for real solutions to everyday problems.

Early Life

François-Marie Arouet, better known by his chosen pseudonym Voltaire, was born in Paris on 21 November 1694. Françoise-Marie's father was a notary who sent him to the highly esteemed Louis-le-Grand college, then run by Jesuits. Going on to study law, Françoise-Marie's real interest was literature, and he was soon writing his own poems and plays. These early offerings were the beginning of what would turn out to be a momentous catalogue of works of all kinds by the end of Voltaire's long career.

In 1718, Voltaire's first play, Oedipus, was successfully staged, and he had his first poem, La Henriade, published to great acclaim in 1723. Voltaire might have had literary aspirations, but his fledgling career took a nosedive in 1726 when, after an argument with the Chevalier de Rohan, he was confined in the infamous Bastille prison. When he got out, Voltaire decided to broaden his horizons, and he visited first the Netherlands and then England, where he lived until 1729.

Continue reading...

[eddy25960]

Antoine François Gelée is an engraver, lithographer and illustrator; French born in Paris, May 13, 1796 and died in the same city on February 27, 1860.

Virgil's Shepherd (Engraving)

[aedesluminis]

Did Prieur Claude Antoine really have a daughter with Madame Vêtu in 1788 (or is it just a strong possibility)?

Whether Prieur had a daughter with Catherine-Elisabeth Vétu, born Joly, is something we can never know for sure, unless we go back in time and ask them. However, according to both Paul Arbelet and Georges Bouchard, who had the chance of having access to Prieur's complete collection of personal papers, there's strong evidence that the latter might have truly been the biological father of Madame Vétu's last child.

Before delving into the matter, allow me a little digression on how Prieur and Catherine came to know each other.

The two met in 1785, when he was 22 and she was 29; yes, she was seven years older than him! The former moved to Dijon both for military duty and to assist Louis-Bernard Guyton in his scientific works. The young officer needed a place to stay and one of the rooms of the Vétu family house revealed itself to be the most suitable for him. Bouchard guessed that the two might have become close very soon, allowing Prieur to eat and sleep there for free since his low salary at the time wouldn't have allowed him to always pay the rent. (1)

Not a far-fetched speculation, considering Catherine’s lively character and active participation in the management of her husband's grocery store; at that time managing a business implied a minimum of education and both a strong dedication and commitment to work; qualities that Prieur appreciated and admired in a person. On the other hand, Catherine, despite the age gap, must have been impressed by Prieur's reserved, hardworking character and polite manners, something that her husband seemed to be lacking. (2)

In 1785 Catherine already had two children, Pierre, 9 years old and Bernard, 7 years old; three years later, her last one, Claudine was born. Prieur was chosen as godfather, or offered to be.

Here's the child's baptism certificate I managed to find in the Cote-d'Or archives:

[Source: Archives de la Côte-d'Or, Registres paroissiaux et état civil, XVIe siècle-1938 (sous-série 2 E). Collection communale 1579-1792, Toutes paroisses, FRAD021EC 239/095, Vues 0252-0317 : Paroisse Saint-Jean, Baptêmes et Mariages, janvier 1788-décembre 1788, vue 279]

Claudine-Denise, fille du Sr Joseph Vétu, marchand épicier et demoiselle Catherine Joly son épouse, est venue au monde et a été baptisée ce jourd'hui 2 mai 1788, son parrain, M. Claude-Antoine Prieur Duvernoy, écuyer, officier au corps royal du génie, représenté par le Sr Jean-François Boiteux, épicier, et sa marraine, dame Claudine-Denise Couturier, veuve du sieur Bernard Joly, son aïeule maternelle. (3)

EN: Claudine-Denise, daughter of Joseph Vétu, grocery merchant and of Catherine Joly, his spouse, was born and baptized on this day 2 May 1788, her godfather being M. Claude-Antoine Prieur Duvernoy, esquire, officier in the Corps Royal du Génie, represented by Sr. Jean-François Boiteux, grocer, and her godmother dame Claudine-Denise Couturier, widow of Monsieur Bernard Joly, her maternal grandmother.

As mentioned before, the supposition that Claude-Antoine might have been more than a simple godfather stems from some facts that for Arbelet and Bouchard are pretty emblematic: In Prieur's personal notes, there's a date written down by him and another one right next to it, which not only corresponds to Claudine's birthday, but it's curiously nine months distant from the first date. I’m not an expert on 18th century customs, but it’s not unlikely that men wrote down the date in which they had intercourses with a woman to know if they were the father of the child that might have later been born. When Claudine was 17, Prieur arranged a marriage between her and a friend of his, Drappier, to whom he later associated the business the former was running at the time; at the time these engagements for a girl were her father’s or her guardian’s duty. When Prieur wrote his testament, he left quite a sum of francs to Claudine's son as inheritance and lastly, there's also a letter from an old garrison fellow of Prieur, in which there's written "I wish good morning to you and your women". (4)

I’d like also to add that from the bits of their correspondence shared by Bouchard and the overall treatment Prieur reserved for her throughout her life, the two seemed to be pretty close, linked by an intimacy that goes beyond the one between a woman and an old family friend. He was always there for her, sent her various gifts and helped her financially. In my opinion, this further confirms the hypothesis that Claudine was his real daughter.

Why did he never adopt her, not even after Joseph Vétu’s death? It’s a question that those who wrote about Prieur never asked themselves, but that I personally wonder. The only thing I can think of right now, given my limited knowledge, is that he didn’t want to give her his surname and cause her to be persecuted. Despite never being the target of slander, he had been part of the revolutionary government responsible for the Terror and not a normal one, but a member of the “bloodthirsty Committee of Public Safety of Year II”: so was the view of the Great CSP during the Napoleonic Era and Restoration.

It’s Prieur himself that in a letter dated 1814 to General Marescot reveals he resigned from public life at the beginning of the century because he foresaw the persecution the members of the government prior to the Consulate would have endured. (5) If he had had a concern for his daughter, it would have been a legitimate one: Sadi Carnot couldn’t advance in the army, despite deserving it, and was denied some positions, because of the surname he bore.

Edit: thanks to @nesiacha 's detailed answer about inheritance and legitimate/illegitimate children during the First Empire a more plausible reason why Prieur decided not to legally adopt her lies in the fact that Claudine not only wouldn't been granted the same rights as a natural child as far as inheritance was concerned: she would have received significantly less; but also illegitimate children were often viewed in a very hostile and negative way, in some instances, even considered as "monstrosities in the social order" and a "real calamity for morals". He clearly didn't want to stain Claudine's honour. Last but not least, Prieur and Catherine-Elisabeth never married after Joseph Vétu's death and the latter recognised Claudine as his daughter when she was born, so I don't think it would have been easy for Prieur to pass over this.

References

G. Bouchard, Prieur de la Côte-d’Or, 1946, p. 54-58.

P. Arbelet, La jeunesse de Prieur de la Côte-d’Or, Revue du dix-huitième siècle, 1916, p. 38-51

Notes

Curiously in their correspondence, Claudine always calls Prieur "mon cher parrain" (= my dear godfather) and nothing in those letter hints at the fact she might have known her real father's identity.

On page 56 of Prieur’s biography, Bouchard affirms with confidence that the date of Thursday 1 December 1785 which Prieur wrote in his “Tableau du temps... depuis 1782 jusqu'en 1792.” - a sort of list of the main events of his life - corresponds to the latter’s unofficial engagement with Catherine. Considering that Prieur arrived in Dijon in August, it means it took them four months to fall in love with each other. Though, except for a vague remark on “a certain number of coincidences that would be too long to report”, Bouchard doesn’t explain in specific how he got to that conclusion.

From some letters and papers that Prieur kept, Joseph Vétu appeared as a “lousy and insignificant man” (G. Bouchard, p. 56).

Transcription by Bouchard (p. 58 of his biography)

Letter from Andréossy to Prieur (G. Bouchard, p. 361).

Letter to Marescot of 18 April 1814 (G. Bouchard, p.380-381).