La Castiglione is Alive!

 

La Castiglione visits Berlin! UA von Place Fantôme am 26. Mai 2018. (R: Ivan Stanev, La Castiglione: Jeanette Spassova)

Das Symposium La plus belle femme du siècle. Multispektrale Bildgebungen findet am 27. Mai 2018 statt.

Es erscheint ein Katalog!

Die Schädel toter Ahnen, die man einstmals in offenen oder versteckten, dunkeln oder hellen Kammern aufgestellt hat, damit sie den Mitgliedern der Gemeinschaft schweigsam Gesellschaft leisten konnten, wandelten sich zu Masken, polierten Grabsteinen, Fotoalben, Videobotschaften, die kurz vor dem Ableben aufgezeichnet werden, und Social-Media-Accounts, die ihrer Wiederauferstehung nach dem Ende des Internets harren. Die mannigfaltigen Seelen haben sich entfernt, sich aber nicht verschlucken lassen.” (aus: Entfernte Seelen by ALH, in: Place Fantôme, Berlin/Paris 2018)  

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A beam of light

 

 

“Looking at that blank paper continually dropping, dropping, dropping, my mind ran on in wonderings of those strange uses to which those thousand sheets eventually would be put. All sorts of writings would be writ on those now vacant things – sermons, lawyers’ briefs, physicians’ prescriptions, love-letters, marriage certificates, bills of divorce, registers of births, death-warrants, and so on, without end. Then, recurring back to them as they here lay all blank, I could not but bethink me of that celebrated comparison of John Locke, who, in demonstration of his theory that man had no innate ideas, compared the human mind at birth to a sheet of blank paper; something destined to be scribbled on, but what sort of characters no soul might tell.” (H.M., The Paradise of Bachelors and the Tartarus of Maids, 1855)

The author at the graveside of the “big white male” and his next of kin. Woodlawn Cemetery in Bronx. (Pic by Marius Mittag)

 

 

 

 

It was summer, now it’s autumn

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And now the heat of the day had gone and the light of the sky was fading from scarlet to rose and from cobalt to powdered violet and as the lights began to flash on Cosnahan asked himself: What was so theatrical about a swift flurry of figures or one lone figure under an arc light in a great city?
He would have liked to „get it“, to capture too – he felt an almost passionate desire to capture – the beauty of the unending processions … And now it is marathon moon of tangerine. Arcturus. Spica. Fomalhaut. The Eagle; and the Lyre. (Malcolm Lowry)

Where the tangerines blossom – keep it coming. Under the vast vapid ravines called sky.

[All pics by Katharina Copony]

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This “Alphaville” ought to be called “Zeroville”! (Lemmy Caution)

“No scene really leads to the next, all scenes lead to each other. No scene is really shot out of order. It’s a false concern that a scene must anticipate another scene that follows, even if it’s not shot yet, or that a scene must reflect a scene that precedes it, even if it’s not shot yet, because all scenes anticipate and reflect each other. Scenes reflect what has not yet happened, scenes anticipate what has already happened. Scenes that have not yet happened, have.” (Vikar – with K – channeled via Steve Erickson.)