Showing posts with label Hieronymus Bosch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hieronymus Bosch. Show all posts

Sunday, July 21, 2013

Ship of Fools: Issa's Sunday Service, #171



Ship of Fools by The Doors on Grooveshark
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I ran across a deep cut in the Doors catalog, The Ship of Fools (a live version of which is linked above), and was intrigued. I remembered the novel by Katherine Anne Porter (and the movie that followed) and did a little background legwork. The original source appears to be a 15th century allegory that became something of a cultural touchstone at the time.

Pictured above is the Hieronymus Bosch depiction of the allegory, also titled Ship of Fools. As with all things Bosch, even when depicting a relatively tame scene, there is always something curious to contemplate in his work. Another 15th century rendering may be seen in the University of Houston's online digital library.

Of course, this allegory has legs, persisting all these centuries later, in the Porter novel and in songs by such diverse performers as the Doors, the Dead, Robert Plant, World Party, and John Cale, among quite a few others.

As to what the allegory was all about, Wikipedia has a nice little summary of what it is all about:

The allegory depicts a vessel populated by human inhabitants who are deranged, frivolous, or oblivious passengers aboard a ship without a pilot, and seemingly ignorant of their own direction. 

Sound familiar?

Imagine my surprise then, and delight, to find a Christian humor site that takes its title from this insightful observation of the human condition: Ship of Fools. It may not be The Onion but, hell, this crew is laughing while they row, and at themselves, yet. There is an article on Holy Host dispensers, which have a kind of Steely Dan (not the band) quality about them, an hysterical 'caption this photo contest' depicting a particularly, um, earnest looking Tennessee Ernie Ford and a rather nifty exposé of a pseudo-evangelist. 

I have to say that the decidedly secular Issa's Sunday Service gives a thumbs up to this Christian humor site for, well, having a lark now and again. After all, it's a bit of a relief from the run-of-the-mill these days.

Since Tennessee Ernie Ford was known for other things than gospel recordings - such as shilling for Ford Motor Company, as well as a number of country and pop hits - rather than leaving you laughing at him, I thought it might be best to give the devil his due and present what he was best known for:


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 Photo from "Ship of Fools" caption contest (titled holy quiff)



short summer night--
foolish flowers, clever flowers
bloom
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue




best,
Don   

Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 171 songs

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Quite Rightly So: Issa's Sunday Service, #151

Wheatfield by Vincent Van Gogh

Quite Rightly So by Procol Harum on Grooveshark 
 
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Those of you who have been around these parts for a while know my weakness for the lyrical work of Keith Reid and its execution via Procol Harum.  They've appeared a number of times on the Sunday Service (one, two, three, four, five, & this, number six), in a general tribute post to the band (and Cid Corman), in an earlier incarnation of this blog (Beneath Cherry Blossoms) in a post where I put Shelley's Ozymandis side by side with Reid's Conquistator for quiet contemplation.

Whew, who's a fanboy, what?

This week's tune, Quite Rightly So, comes from the Shine on Brightly album and, as "an ode by any other name," finds itself classified acceptable for your litrock listening pleasure. 
"Be kind and humour me" - they just don't write 'em like this anymore (and, yes, I realize, there are many who are thanking the powers that be for making that so.)
 

Quite Rightly So
For you (whose eyes were opened wide 
whilst mine refused to see)
I'm sore in need of saving grace. 
Be kind and humour me
I'm lost amidst a sea of wheat
where people speak but seldom meet
And grief and laughter, strange but true
Although they die, they seldom cry

An ode by any other name 
I know might read more sweet
Perhaps the sun will never shine 
upon my field of wheat
But still in closing, let me say
for those too sick, too sick to see
though nothing shows, 
yes, someone knows
I wish that one was me 



I'm not sure if this would qualify for the Sunday Service, lit allusion-wise, but since it's one of my all time fav songs by Procol Harum, here you go: Juicy John Pink - 

 



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Artwork by Hieronymus Bosch




begging actors--
even the wheat field
gets a song

 Issa
 translated by David G. Lanoue 




best,
Don
   

Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 151 songs

Sunday, January 17, 2010

April: Issa's Sunday Service, #38







For those familiar with the group Deep Purple, their selection in the LitRock category might be a head scratcher: isn't this the head banging, hard rock, heavy metal band of "Smoke on the Water" and "Space Truckin'"? And right you would be, 70's classic rock mavens. However, Deep Purple started out a bit differently and this cut is probably the apex of that difference: a near 13 minute suite that combines rock, pop-rock, heavy classical, and, yeah, literary pretensions, the later being used in the strictly non-judgmental sense. This after all was the edge of experimentation; rock operas, suites, the cross-pollination of genres, album length songs etc. Here is their intro to the piece from the liner notes:


A sort of 3 part concert about the month of April. The first
section is played by just Jon and Ritchie. Jon played piano
and organ, and Ritchie played acoustic guitar (a rhythm
pattern and a double tracked lead pattern) and electric
guitar. The choir was added afterwards. The whole section
used about 11 different tracks. Also Ian on timpani can be
heard in the background. The second section is Jon's
orchestral description of April. The instruments used were:
two flutes, two oboes, cor anglais, two clarinets, two violins,
viola and two cellos. The third section is a treatment of the
chord sequence of the first section in a more "Purple" way.
As a whole, we hope April hangs together as personal
evocation of a beautiful, but sad (to us) month.


And the lyric (which, be forewarned, does not kick in until around the 8:45 or so mark):



April
April is a cruel time
Even though the sun may shine
And world looks in the shade as it slowly comes away
Still falls the April rain
And the valley's filled with pain
And you can't tell me quite why
As I look up to the grey sky
Where it should be blue
Grey sky where I should see you
Ask why, why it should be so
I'll cry, say that I don't know

Maybe once in a while I'll forget and I'll smile
But then the feeling comes again of an April without end
Of an April lonely as they come
In the dark of my mind I can see all too fine
But there is nothing to be done when I just can't feel the sun
And the springtime's the season of the night

Grey sky where it should be blue
Grey sky where I should see you
Ask why, why it should be so
I'll cry, say that I don't know
I don't know


The literary allusion here is, of course, to Eliot's "The Waste Land" and its infamous opening line: "April is the cruelest month ..." It is amazing that this song has stayed with me for 40 years. The lyric itself is feather light, but the striving for something else in the rock medium is not and, I believe, they pulled it off in a way so many genre bending/blending experiments did not. The album from which this comes is the self-titled third album, "Deep Purple," the original cover of which was a detail from the Hieronymus Bosch painting "Garden of Earthly Delights," pictured above (It now inexplicably looks like this.) Bosch, you probably know, is responsible for the Lilliput logo at the top right of this page. Some of the rest of the album has some LitRock connections: "Why Didn't Rosemary? (Ever Take the Pill)" rather glibly alluding to the then culturally resonant Ira Levin book, Rosemary's Baby, and the successful Roman Polanski movie adaptation, and the cut "The Painter," referencing both art and writing.

And, because we are here, an odd bit of business: a mashup of T. S. Eliot reading the opening section of The Wasteland" (Burial of the Dead) with an excerpt from the biopic about Joy Division lead singer, Ian Curtis, entitled Control:






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This week's poem comes from issue #59, in August 1994, 5 other poems from which may be found in this post. This one is from the inimitable Albert Huffstickler, on one of his favorite subjects: rain.




Grey Rain Day
Grey rain day in Austin, Texas.
The soul slips in and out,
never straying far
as though fearing the rain might catch it.
I dream over coffee,
something in the back of my mind,
some final perfect thought
that eludes me finally,
slipping away
into the grey rain air.
Albert Huffstickler






And from that other master of the elements, Issa:




the winter rain
dumps and dumps...
Buddha in the field
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue




best,
Don

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Bosch Guy Thanksgiving Moon Viewing Party


Anonymous Postcard

You know, one of the wonderful things about being in the small press over the years is the strange and amazing things that mysteriously appear in the mailbox, some of which arrive, like this postcard, anonymously (yeah, Burfields, just because you didn't sign it, don't go thinking ...).

The little Bosch guy mascot has been all over the planet, delivering tiny lyrical missives for what seems like forever, actually just a mere 20 years. It's nice to see that he and his friends are in shape enough for some mountain climbing and some good, old fashioned daytime moon viewing.

Wishing everybody a great, stress-free day of giving thanks. Here's a poem capturing the ambiance of the season from Lilliput Review #98, July 1998.



Thanksgiving Weekend
Leaves skitter across the empty lot.
One car in the corner. Away from buildings
the sky widens. Clouds–like sand
rippled by receding tide water.

Wind piles leaves in the corner
of the cemetery fence, hisses through them,
moans through evergreens. The dead are still.
The ground is hardening.
Edward Dougherty




And from Issa:



thanks to the wind
they are precious...
billowing clouds
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue




best,
Don

Monday, November 24, 2008

Hieronymus Bosch, the Logo, and the Haiga of Max Verhart


Over the years, I've received lots of questions about the Lilliput Review "logo" or the Hieronymous Bosch birdman as I think of him. Most recently, Gary Hotham sent along an email inquiry that was precipitated by his friend and fellow poet, Max Verhart. Max had been struck by the fact that both Gary's book Missed Appointment and his own only the white (which Max tells me is still available - send inquires to "max at verhart dot org") both contained the image. The image is in a photo haiga, from only the white. Here are some details from Max's email:


As it happens, I am living in the Netherlands in Den Bosch, the town that gave Jheronimus Bosch his family name. He lived and worked here. Last year I found some statuettes after some images from his paintings were being shown on pedestals in the small river that runs through (or even mostly under) the town. I made pictures of them that I later combined for use in the haiga.


And here is his haiga:






And here's a little closer look at what he is talking about:






It has been so long since I started using the Bosch art as a logo, almost 20 years, that I mistakenly thought it came from the work he is most famous for, The Garden of Earthly Delights. However it actually comes from his The Temptation of St. Anthony (it can be seen at the bottom of the left hand panel of the triptych). The net, being the amazing, er, thing that it is, yielded up this interesting artistic take. And, well, here.

In fact, the little guy seems to be all over the place.

I was initially intrigued by the fact that, whatever it is, it seems to be carrying a letter of some sort. What could be more perfect as a logo for a small press magazine starting out in the late 80's? I believe I ran across a nice high-quality reproduction of it in a Dover clip art book. A number of years back, a good friend of mine sent a nice blowup of the original which, though it crops the top, gives an idea of the kind of glorious detail with which Bosch rendered his work. The sheer scale of his work obscures its minute complexity:




And, you know, ya just have to love those old school ice skates ...


best,
Don