Of course the villa was built by a son of Lucrezia Borgia. Not that you needed to know that to figure that some great crime had to pay for such a place.
Taken this evening from outside my house in West Wales. In between two storms, the golden light of the setting sun is reflected from the oaks. Autumn is approaching.
“Of course the villa was built by a son of Lucrezia Borgia. Not that you needed to know that to figure that some great crime had to pay for such a place.”
Lucrezia, married off for political advantage at 11, dead at 39 giving birth to her 8th (or 9th) child, was no great criminal
This is probably not the very greatest recording of this piece. But it reminded me of one of the most memorable concerts I have ever attended – Earl Wild’s 90th birthday concert at Carnegie hall in 2005. Most of his playing was hit-or-miss. In general passages requiring loud chords or octaves were weak and scattered, and there were frequent minor memory slips. Still, his fingerwork was shockingly intact, and his ear for color was obvious. The piece above was one of the more successful of the program.
His first encore was Chopin’s Fantaisie-Impromptu, one of the most hackneyed pieces in the repertoire. But the first couple of phrases was so astoundingly beautiful I remember holding my breath, and feeling that the rest of the audience was too. And then the next section began with the most incredible spray of wrong notes I have ever heard, or probably ever will hear, in Carnegie Hall. But I’ve never forgotten the magic of those first few moments. Of course I admire (and strive for) consistency. But in art is is the heights that matter.
Sheesh, guy. Every time it’s an enormous body of phenomenal work. I don’t believe you could possibly find time to blog, let alone teach/do research. (The portraits are gentle and subtle, making a nice change from the power of the rest of the images.)
{ 11 comments }
ingrid robeyns 08.10.14 at 8:49 pm
Peace and tranquillity, exactly what we need in this Summer from Hell.
Thanks for another beautiful picture.
Dr. Hilarius 08.10.14 at 8:55 pm
Very nice.
Glen Tomkins 08.10.14 at 9:00 pm
Of course the villa was built by a son of Lucrezia Borgia. Not that you needed to know that to figure that some great crime had to pay for such a place.
Sasha Clarkson 08.10.14 at 10:18 pm
Taken this evening from outside my house in West Wales. In between two storms, the golden light of the setting sun is reflected from the oaks. Autumn is approaching.
http://livemind.org.uk/Demo/Glow.jpg
godoggo 08.11.14 at 12:56 am
“Not that you needed to know that to figure that some great crime had to pay for such a place.”
But that’s all water over the bridge.
bad Jim 08.11.14 at 6:48 am
The tree on the left is what makes it, I think; dense, conical, hulking, with a quizzical eye.
A life spent in reflection sounds appealing, sometimes.
rea 08.11.14 at 9:20 am
“Of course the villa was built by a son of Lucrezia Borgia. Not that you needed to know that to figure that some great crime had to pay for such a place.”
Lucrezia, married off for political advantage at 11, dead at 39 giving birth to her 8th (or 9th) child, was no great criminal
ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© 08.11.14 at 11:35 am
Calming reflections, Chris.
Here are a few of mine.
~
Meredith 08.11.14 at 3:51 pm
The other pictures really interesting, too. I especially like the cliff with steps….
Lasker 08.12.14 at 3:24 am
Beautiful!
Another view of the Villa d’Este:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P834X6jjqps
This is probably not the very greatest recording of this piece. But it reminded me of one of the most memorable concerts I have ever attended – Earl Wild’s 90th birthday concert at Carnegie hall in 2005. Most of his playing was hit-or-miss. In general passages requiring loud chords or octaves were weak and scattered, and there were frequent minor memory slips. Still, his fingerwork was shockingly intact, and his ear for color was obvious. The piece above was one of the more successful of the program.
His first encore was Chopin’s Fantaisie-Impromptu, one of the most hackneyed pieces in the repertoire. But the first couple of phrases was so astoundingly beautiful I remember holding my breath, and feeling that the rest of the audience was too. And then the next section began with the most incredible spray of wrong notes I have ever heard, or probably ever will hear, in Carnegie Hall. But I’ve never forgotten the magic of those first few moments. Of course I admire (and strive for) consistency. But in art is is the heights that matter.
David J. Littleboy 08.12.14 at 11:08 pm
Sheesh, guy. Every time it’s an enormous body of phenomenal work. I don’t believe you could possibly find time to blog, let alone teach/do research. (The portraits are gentle and subtle, making a nice change from the power of the rest of the images.)
Comments on this entry are closed.