if . . .

Before fb & twitter & blogging is what it is now i wrote many a post like this. ... Herbert Blau ... knew of him only through his writings. The Impossible Theatre: A Manifesto came at the right time and i continued to read much of what he wrote. His theories attracted me at the start of my studies into theatre in the late sixties ... feel indebted to him & his passing causes me to pause & reflect on all those theatre workers who have shaped my path ... ... the first dandelions came this week ... a true celebration of spring ... await their arrival with patient anticipation ... my grandfather (now repeating myself though should write about Isadore Montalbetti) made dandelion wine & i love their sunny colour & their strength ... they have their season seeming to disappear in the heat of summer ... still each year they bring memories and smiles ... I stopped. The joy & discipline of writing/linking/searching/surfing waned. The purpose was never to b...

:: Note :: ... a  gentle soul was my uncle ... a thoughtful, caring individual who seemed to always be of service to the other ... my last image was of him talking to my son on a visit to Ottawa ... he had discovered Stefan's passion for history and listened to this teenager with attentiveness and respect ... before we left he gifted a book from his library ... other than his intense compassion & devotion to his family this was his deepest love - books: reading, researching, contemplating, collecting, challenging & most importantly sharing ... he was a bit of what I imagined 'a man of letters' and  wrote letters to my mother which she treasured more than any jewlery ... she will miss those words in meticulous handwriting ... we will miss his gentle caring soul ... in our thoughts we will receive his letters as he writes them from another place than the place of actuality ... 

Received e-mail this afternoon Dear colleagues: As many of you will have worked with him and many others will know much about him, this is just to let you know the sad news that Zygmunt Molik died last night at 6 pm in Wroclaw hospital. ... checked the The Grotowski Institute ... the words confirmed ... I had been told he had been bed ridden this past while and even last week had dreamt of a passing ... still for a moment time eternal stopped ... why must we suffer losses? "The secret lies in the voice, sound as whole and pure as it’s possible. Its essence is to release and awake the middle part of the body. Different parts of the body are very often separated: the head is separated, the legs… We are blocked. As a result of combining vocal and body excersises we reach the point, where the whole organism is active in speaking and singing." ( Zygmunt Molik ) ... Zygmunt Molik's Voice and Body Work the Leagacy of Jerzy Grotowski was published eight days ago ... thirty fiv...

... the movement of an artist from the world of practice often comes with great mourning & even greater reflection ... Pina Baush preserved her dignity and spirit with considered if not miraculous attention ... others not so ... ... the present media frenzy surrounding MJ allowed me to reflect on an aged post : "it is impossible not to contemplate with a shudder the shadowy line between art, ecstasy and psychosis." . . . Cox in his “documentary” about the Russian born dancer Nijinsky The Diaries of Vaslav Nijinsky is quoted: “Nijinsky was a beautiful spirit. He went mad because of his love of mankind. We live in a world that has gone crazy – it is no wonder that souls like Nijinsky go mad.” Words as if spoken towards any artist humbled by their own demons & excesses of a hungry sensibility, extreme traumatic periods & victim of time and place. ... further darker evidence: "Once we commit ourselves to a passion, noble or sordid, it is of no importance, ...

There are no limits to the act of the imagination. Herbert was the catalyst of creativity. He demanded we play & play is serious & play is joyful & play is painful & play is life ... & death. He has flown from this world of practicality. The place he taught the practice of making the impossible possible. I hold him here deep in memory. I loved & fought him as if he were my father. The last time I talked to him was too many years ago. He was enthusiastically discussing his upcoming role in a stage production of My Dinner with Andre . I wished to tell him he respected me more than I deserved. We weren't in his atelier but in a garden of paradise and I wanted this revolutionary veteran to know without his support I wouldn't be where I was or where I became. I didn't but we did embrace & in his grasp I would have liked to have been able to comfort his restlessness - the disquiet that lurked around his expressive power. Thinking back a crow was per...

I stood beside my wife as she wept. She had spent the day preparing food. A feast for her father who three days before had entered the spirit world. Incense burned around the dishes, candles lit the altar, Korean funeral songs filled the space, she bowed & wept. His picture framed in black watched over her. She had mentioned once he was a disciplinarian yet as so many of his generation the face was full of great protective warmth. She loosened the rice and filled a spoonful serving then bowed & wept. Her heart was heavy. I slipped my hand under hers but she needed no support she wept. Her bows were light & graceful as if she were the spirit. I moved behind her to rest my hands on her shoulders as a sign of comfort. She wept. We bowed three times three. She wept three times three. The incense sticks became ash. The candles in the sand flickered. The songs finished. There was a sorrowful emptiness. She wept to the end. We walked hand in hand to the room we call home. Layers, ...

obituaries - See: Memorium :: note :: ... it seems this time of year every year is a passage time ... Stockhausen introduced me to the idea of avante garde arts ... for that eternal thanks ...

IN MEMORIAM: NORVAL MORRISSEAU - See: Artists :: note :: ... opened me for one to First Nations art ... as a young adolescent the Norval Morriseau body of work was a fascinating introduction which has continued ...

- See: Memorium :: note :: ... people influence you directly /indirectly /near /far /daily /once ... theresa & blake ... two artists entwined ... their passings l(ea)ive questions ... why we seek the where ... if bones have memory is the skeleton shape of memory a shadow cast within the flesh of living ...

Tibor Feheregyhazi, 75 Young actor fresh from the Budapest uprising of 1956 sailed for Canada to become a behind-the-scenes powerhouse in Winnipeg, Thunder Bay and Saskatoon F. F. LANGAN Special to The Globe and Mail July 25, 2007 at 8:50 AM EDT NOWLTON, QUE. — Hungarian actor Tibor Feheregyhazi's accent kept him off the stage in Canada, but his production skills put him at the forefront of one of the most vigorous and determined theatre companies in the country. A refugee from the street fighting in the 1956 Hungarian revolution, he spent 25 years reviving and rebuilding Saskatoon's Persephone Theatre. "He was dynamic and seemed to take people over. You might even call him imperious," said Jeremy Morgan, executive director of the Saskatchewan Arts Board. He gave an example of how Mr. Feheregyhazi expected to be obeyed. "He wrote to an actor saying, 'I am doing The Tempest and you will be Caliban.' Even though the man didn't know him, he accepted....

Tibor - See: Memorium :: note :: ... a wonderful life ... a theater worker of note ... thanks for shining so brightly ...

"We all feel that we talked with Kurt, don't we? Which isn't very possible, but it is as necessary as peace." ( AlterNet | Reverend Billy | Reflections on Kurt Vonnegut, a Man of Funny Fearlessness ) "He believed, after all, that literature could play the role of the canary in the coal mine, warning against the suffocation of values. It was the function of literature to be "a slow-acting poison". He had himself been infected by the socialist writers of the 1930s. Now he, in turn, wished to "infect young people with humanity"." ( openDemocracy |Christopher Bigsby | Kurt Vonnegut : a voice for life ) - See: Memorium :: note :: ... been infected since the late '60's ... this poison makes in his own words: "Death is not an acceptable side effect." ... Vonnegut took me on the pilgrimage towards being unstuck in time ... a brilliant critical thinker ...

"Divine music is one of the highest mercies extended to us by God. It is as powerful as prayer itself. The potency of sacred music has in certain instances superceded the curative properties of medicine, mantra, and affirmations. This is due to the heart's principle of love, purity, and innate receptivity. Often, the mind that knows the use of recitation and affirmations, at times has found that little value results when it exhaustedly abandons the constant repetition. Divine music is a curative virtue; it is a gift from God that brings healing and comfort to the soul. This music can uplift one's spirit up to a higher dimension of being that is filled with peace and joy. Divine music is the sound of true life, wisdom, and bliss. This music transcends geographical boundaries, language barriers, age factors; and whether educated or uneducated, it reaches deep into the heart and soul, sacred and holy, like an Infinite sound of glory entering the Lord's sanctuary....

three days the sky wept on the sunday afternoon a patch of blue sky opened not enough to see the sun for the clouds still shrouded the mountain tops slow heavy steps led to the river "why, why, why" cried the place behind the eye the fast winter flowing water replied "let the why rest" narrow winding paths of fern & cedar take you to & from this place between listen to the unseen raven find where the mosses cover the roof of the world dear sister when I next come knocking at your door please answer quietly for your bed has been made (12/25/05 Hope,BC) :: note :: . . . written the day before the Hope service I knew she was to be buried in Saskatoon . . . two days later my hand held the the urn and placed it gently to bed touching the earth's bottom . . . to those reading i have the need to apologize . . . the mourning is private . . . i share the privacy . . . take care of the ones around you . . .

("Spring Scrolls," via nytimes: obituaries ) Skunder Boghossian

Beat Generation poet Ted Joans , whose work drew from the African-American story-telling tradition, has died in Canada aged 74.( BBC News ) :: comment :: . . . don't know why this hasn't been picked up more . . ."This bent metal serpent"

IVAN ILLICH IN MEMORIAM Ivan Illich died at the age of 76 in Bremen, Germany on Dec. 2, 2002. A priest, and a penetrating social critic, he was one of the most brilliant and interesting men of his time. (cbc radio one: ideas ) :: comment :: . . . a fabulous memoriam by David Cayley . . . listening to the voice of a radical explorer . . . once again contemporay institutions prove themselves tyrants of manipulation and compulsory dependance . . . the voice of redemptive and powerless love, of a teacher prophet friend . . . who is our neighbour . . . the unique other . . . "as the world grows darker his flame will grow larger."

"December 4, 2002, 11:12 AM EST BERLIN -- Ivan Illich, a renowned sociologist who protested against the institutionalization of learning and religion, has died, a former university colleague said Wednesday. He was 76. "

"Ed Rossbach experimented with nontraditional textile materials in artworks and often used foil, plastic bags, Mylar, twigs, staples and twine in his pieces.[ NYTimes:Obit ]"