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hintersatz:

Maurice Ravel - Pièce en forme de Habanera - (1907)

Peter Schmalfuss, piano

Elisabeth Ganter, clarinet

Maurice Ravel (1875-1937) originally composed his “Pièce en forme de Habanera” as a Vocalise etude en forme de Habanera for bass voice and piano in 1907. A song without words, Ravel took as his model the slow, sultry Spanish dance called the habanera — like most French composers of the period, Ravel was fascinated by the music of Spain — and used it as the basis of a blindingly difficult virtuoso exercise for the bass voice. Ravel later transcribed the work for cello and piano — a transcription that retains all the virtuosity of the original — and from this several other arrangements have been made for virtually any and all instruments with aspirations to virtuoso glory.

(via tierradentro)

lauramcphee:

Diner chez Pierre, 1944 (Robert Doisneau)

Hal Hartley - Surviving Desire (by TheBigBigO)

Trust (Hal Hartley) (by juancosaco)

deceptivecadenza:

Violin by Ruggeri, Francesco (Cremona, 1672)

"In trying to understand her, we must not be distracted—as is only too likely to happen on a first reading—by considering how far, and at what points, we agree or disagree. We must simply expose ourselves to the personality of a woman of genius, of a kind of genius akin to that of saints…Our first experience of Simone Weil should not be expressible in terms of approval or dissent. I cannot conceive of anybody’s agreeing with all her views, or of not disagreeing violently with some of them. But agreement and rejection are secondary: what matters is to make contact with a great soul"

- T.S. Eliot on Simone Weil (via asthepoemsgo)

bourbon-please:

 

"Oh, how quickly things changed! Why didn’t happiness last for ever? For ever wasn’t a bit too long.”
― Katherine Mansfield"

- (via journalofanobody)

inneroptics:

Jeanloup Sieff
prye:

There rolls the deep where grew the tree.O earth, what changes hast thou seen!There where the long street roars, hath beenThe stillness of the central sea.The hills are shadows, and they flowFrom form to form, and nothing stands;
 
Narcissus by Caravagio