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Oak Trees and Lightning: The Fractal Yin/Yang

Fractal_oak_tree
Elaine Meinel Supkis


The photo here is my big 500 year old oak in the middle of the lower field. Its branches grow outwards in an amazing fractal maze. The eastern sky at sunset is a fine, soft purple due to some high-stratospheric volcanic ash diffusing the light of the setting sun. Time to think about the universe, the laws of Nature and fractals, especially as they exist when the polarity of the earth and the sky meet in a lightning bolt attracted to an oak tree.


From Euclidean Relativity by Rob Vlindin:

1. Positive and negative charges are two sides of the same 4D point

...explaining why the amount of positive and negative charge in the universe is exactly equal.

Some point-shaped being lives on a circle. His limited 1D vision makes the circle appear to him as a straight line. To actually see the extrinsic curvature he would need to have 2D vision. He is looking at a point in the distance in his circular world. Now he turns around and looks down his circle in the opposite direction. He sees "another" point but this is actually the same point again, looked at from the "backside".

You can extend this to 2D worlds, 3D worlds and so on. The basic principle remains the same. In any n-dimensional closed world or manifold (i.e., closed in yet another higher dimension), every point always shows two projections to our "eyes", provided our spatial vision is limited to those same n dimensions. The projections follow geodesics, 1D trajectories like the circular world of the point creature. Once our spatial vision is extended with one more dimension, it becomes clear immediately that we are looking at a single point only


Much of Nature is mirrored. Yin and yang. When I was hit by lightning as a child, I ended up where all the opposites are the same, big and little, hot and cold, soft and hard. I try to express this in my various art forms over the years and when I was looking for some video to use, talking about fractals, I came across this very beautiful fractal video. It so happened, I was also listening to Bernstein (oh, how I miss him!) conducting Wagner's 'Tristan und Isolde'.


The video here can be played twice while listening to the music. It very much is like what it looks if you are hit by lightning and passing into the place where all the planes of real time and real space converge on the 4th dimension: This is where I met Pegasus, a blazing brigh comet streaming out of that terrible compression!



Few people get to see inside of a lightning bolt. It isn't a 'flash' at all, indeed, since it is a convergenc point, time actually stands still or maybe that is just me, but the more I was involved in this event, the slower time flowed until it seemed to not stop but rather, converge on a single event horizon that was like a well.


The bolt itself is laced. There are many colors, too. The blue threads are like a net, the red is pulsating and yellow runs on the outside. Until one is inside the bolt, then it is very much like this fractal video: the shape of time and space is very hard-edged and complex and it flows away from the convergence while the entity traveling along with the bolt moves as fast as the speed of light but this doesn't seem fast at all, the paradox of movement makes it seem as if one is standing still while the universe flashes past.


When I was hit, my mind decided to not remember anything because it hurt. But my dream life was obsessed with this event and it troubled my childhood dreams something big. It is particularily odd that although the bolt that struck was very powerful and gouged a big gash down the oak tree, I was totally unharmed...except for migranes whenever thunderstorms approach, when they are about an hour away, I can feel their force.


Most humans imagine time flows in only one direction. From my perspective, it doesn't at all. It is as fractal as everything else in this odd universe we live in. The photo of the oak tree here is like the universe: the pellucid sky diffusing the light and this has no weight or thickness but the oak tree is very sharp and twisty yet you can see the other side, the sky, through the branches. But the oak grows out of the earth which is dense and dark and is the gravitational power here.


This is also a metaphor: the birds tonight were singing in the tree as I was walking around the base. They have nests there and in the nests are eggs that are about to hatch and life will spring from them and the birds will live in this great tree and it defines their universe even as they fly in the sky or land on the ground.


When they die, they return to the earth and can't leave it anymore but at the same time, the other part flies up to infinity, past everything, the gravity has no more power. For everything in the universe is a mirror of each other and everything has a yin and yang and a point there they converge and there lies not just death but transcendence.


Culture of Life News Main Page


Mstislav Rostropovich: Great Cellist, Great Humanitarian, Dies

Elaine Meinel Supkis


One of the inspirations for my own musical life was this great cellist, Mstislav Rostropovich. A product of a cross of the European Royalty/European Communist cultural dynamo created in Russia from 1880 to 1980, he was one of the crown jewels in that glittering diadem which had some of the world's greatest choreographers, dancers, skaters, musicians, composers, painters, poets, chess players and writers. The outpouring of cultural wealth from a system that most people wrongly imagine as weak and poor, never ceases to amaze me and break my heart.


From the New York Times:

Mstislav Rostropovich, a cellist and conductor who was renowned not only as one of the great instrumentalists of the 20th century, but also as an outspoken champion of artistic freedom in Russia during the final decades of the Cold War, died in Moscow today. He was 80 and lived in Paris, with homes in Moscow, St. Petersburg, London and Lausanne, Switzerland.

Mstislav Rostropovich conducting the New York Philharmonic in April 2005.
The Russian Federal Agency for Culture and Cinematography confirmed that Mr. Rostropovich died in a Moscow hospital after a long illness. His press secretary would not release the cause of death.

Mr. Rostropovich was hospitalized in Paris at the end of January, but decided to fly to Moscow, where he has been in and out of hospitals and sanitoriums since early February.

Russia’s president, Vladimir V. Putin called Mr. Rostropovich’s death “a tremendous loss for Russian culture.”


The USA won WWII and we decided to try yet again to wrest the crown of cultural superiority from Europe and Russia. I was raised under that banner, taught to play many musical instruments, taken to the opera all over the world, given novels to read, learning the languages of Europe and the vast classical culture there, I was not the only one to do this. The apex of this effort was when Kennedy was President and Casals played the cello for Jackie.


Mstislav was one of many, many Russians who fled the interference of the dying Communist state. Because he was of tremendous intelligence as well as tremendous talent, he bravely stood up to the fearsome police state spawned by paranoid rulers of Russia.


From Sony Classical:

Born on 27 March 1927 in Baku, a city on the west shore of the Caspian Sea, Mstislav Rostropovich began musical studies in early childhood with his parents. His mother was an accomplished pianist, and his father a distinguished cellist who had studied with Pablo Casals. At the age of sixteen he entered the Moscow Conservatory where he studied composition with Prokofiev and Shostakovich. In 1945 he came to prominence overnight as a cellist when he won the gold medal in the first ever Soviet Union competition for young musicians. Thereafter, despite his continued battle with the communist authorities, he became one of the central figures of the music life there, for twenty five years inspiring Soviet cellists, composers and audiences alike.

Due to international recording contracts and foreign tours, Mstislav Rostropovich also came to the attention of the West. He recorded nearly the entire cello literature during this time and attracted an unprecedented large quantity of new repertoire for the instrument through his personal contact to composers such as Benjamin Britten, who wrote his Cello Symphony, his Sonata for Cello and Piano and the three Suites for Solo Cello especially with Rostropovich in mind. Other composers who have written for Rostropovich include Prokofiev, Shostakovich, Khachaturian, Boulez, Berio, Messiaen, Schnittke, Bernstein, Dutilleux and Lutoslawski.

Mstislav Rostropovich and his family departed from the Soviet Union in 1974 in the midst of a controversy that attracted international attention.

From 1969 until then Mr. Rostropovich and his wife the soprano Galina Vishnevskaya had supported the banned novelist Alexander Solzhenitsyn not only by allowing him to live in their dacha outside Moscow but by writing an open letter to Brezhnev protesting against Soviet restrictions on cultural freedom in 1970. These actions resulted in the cancellation of concerts and foreign tours for Rostropovich and Vishnevskaya, a Soviet media black-out and the cessation of all recording projects. In 1974 they were finally granted exit visas, effectively allowing them to go into exile. Four years later they were stripped of their Soviet citizenship, a decree which held until 1990.


The West gathered the bouquet of Imperial Russia/Soviet State cultural flowerings and we got to enjoy the fruits of neo-nationalism wed to the passionate hearts of Eastern Europeans as the creators of culture were driven from their homelands.


Even when they all made a lot of money and were cheered onwards here in the West, cut off from the source of their creativity, they didn't pass on all that much culture to us because there is this well which feeds the springs of culture and if the well dries up, everything wilts and dies.


So even as all the articles today show the weakness of the Soviet State, few dare say what its strengths were! Namely, poets could frighten the State, novelists were dangerous and dancers were subversives! And this agony, this battle for the hearts and minds, the ears and eyes, made artists stronger! They FLOURISHED.


Why does adversity feed the fires of creativity? I would suggest this tension is required. The Dvorak piece I put up here tells this same story: Austria and Germany oppressed the Czech people of Bohemia. To regain their political power, they poured their souls into the arts and some of the finest composers and performers of the turn of the century came out of the well spring of the Moldave.


This was most true of Poland: Chopin lived as an exile in Paris but his well spring was in Warsaw. Many great performers lived in Warsaw's slums and ghettos. Madame Curie lived in exile in Paris but her own heart and soul were Polish, too. And so it goes: expressing their longings for freedom and strength, looking to the past for glory and to the future for hope, all the people of many cultures conquered by various despots poured their hearts and souls into Culture with a capital 'K' (Kultur, heh).


WWI and WWII roared like a steamroller over European culture and the various governments put together after WWII conducted a huge propaganda war with each other to prove who was best. Each had its strengths and weaknesses. The weakness in the West was the need to pretend we are classless. So our popular media had to make relentless fun of Kultur and mocking people who loved poetry, the arts and all those things Pegasus loves, the Graces, the Fine Arts, etc.


This has been a very successful propaganda point that has turned our culture vulgar. The Soviets took the opposite path and elevated all the 'noble' arts bankrolled by the Czars. If the Soviets acted like the Americans, we would have had a much feebler 'fine arts' culture here in the USA because Russia saved us from our own follies.


As China is today. They are now trying to prove superiority by reviving or increasing participation in the fine arts. I admire China a lot for this. The sales of violins, cellos, pianos, etc, is shooting up in China, for example. More and more, they are winning ballet and ice skating competitions and doing this by being more artistic. In all the arts, they are moving forwards, fast.


The point here is, Rostropovich probably might have had not much of a chance of becoming a great cellist if he grew up in America today.

Culture of Life News Main Page


Anna Netrebko in the Mad Scene from "I Puritani"

Elaine Meinel Supkis


I wish to share some opera which PBS broadcast this afternoon with their wonderful Great Performances series. Today's performance was a very enchanting production of the Metropolitan Opera playing Bellini's 'Il Puritani' with Anna Netrebko. I love this singer and admire her talents, skills and personality. She is a blazing star in the opera world and no wonder! Bravo, bravo!




This video doesn't do her justice, this soprano has the liquid voice and dramatic expression as some of the greatest singers such as the divine La Callas. Anna Netrebko not only has clear as a bird at dawn high notes but has a deep register that is as passionate as a cello. What a fine musical instrument she is! A Guanari or Stad.


Unlike so many prodigies, she didn't start singing professionally when very young. So many fine sopranos lose their vocal abilities this way! One being Maria Callas herself. I have watched so many sopranos being over-used, singing difficult works when too young. In Germany, for example, young singers are not encouraged to sing Wagner until after 30 years of age. Mozart or Verdi are encouraged instead. And heaven help any soprano trying Richard Strauss, especially his Salome, when too young!

From Anna's webpage:

Miss Netrebko began her career with the Kirov Opera under the guidance of Valery Gergiev, and continues to appear with that company in performances both in St. Petersburg and on tour around the world. In addition to roles in the Russian repertoire, her performances with the Kirov have included Teresa in Berlioz' Benvenuto Cellini, Amina in La Sonnambula, and Lucia in Lucia di Lammermoor. She recently became an exclusive recording artist with Deutsche Grammophon, and she can also be heard on several complete recordings under Maestro Gergiev on the Philips Label.


She has been well-guided and I hope this treasure is cared for and not abused. She is so marvelous in nearly every way.

PBS Great Performance Web Page:

The 1791 Mozart masterwork is the first of six current Met productions to air on the series during 2007. The others are Bellini's "I Puritani," featuring international sensation Anna Netrebko; the world premiere of Tan Dun's "The First Emperor," starring GP stalwart, legendary tenor Plácido Domingo; Tchaikovsky's "Eugene Onegin," with another series favorite, beloved soprano Renée Fleming; Bart Sher's acclaimed new staging of Rossini's "The Barber of Seville," with great Rossini tenor Juan Diego Flórez; and Jack O'Brien's new take on Puccini's "Il Trittico," conducted by Met music director James Levine.

Prior to their telecast on PBS, the productions will be broadcast live in high definition (HD) to movie theaters throughout North America, Canada, and the United Kingdom, with time-delayed broadcasts in Japan. They will also be shown in HD on PBS.


I no longer live in New York City so I can't go to the opera a lot. I wish I could, with singers like this, it is an unalloyed joy. So it is nice that we can see the opera on TV. Il Puritani was a fun show to watch and all the singers as well as the orchestra were in great form but without the crown jewel, it wouldn't have shone so gloriously.



I am amused at her ability to sing without the slightest sign of strain while lying down with her head hanging over the side of the stage or a bed. Quite a talent! A great opera singer communicates not only with the voice but the entire body. A mobile, expressive face, an impulsive body that expresses deep emotions...in this video, she actually breaks into tears! Bravo.


The sincerity which she feels, her ability to project the emotions of the women she plays, onto herself and then share it with us, is magical and rare. I can only clap my hands from afar and throw roses, metaphorically. Bravissimo, clap/clap/clap.


Culture of Life News Main Page


Live Music Disappearing From Theaters

Pegasus_and_loss_of_music
This is Elaine Meinel Supkis of Culture of Life News and this is March 25, 2007.

When I was young, I learned to play the piano, organ, violin and cello. The cello was my main instrument in college. We had in my highschool and in the universities, many fine musicians all of whom were worried in the late sixties about landing jobs after graduation. The job market has collapsed and the discipline of learning classical music is in retreat. This saddens me greatly.


From the New York Times: The decline in the size of Broadway orchestras thanks to electronic music.

After a while, though, as is not unusual with shows anxious to maximize profit, the ensemble was cut back to 20, still well above the Al Hirschfeld Theater’s house minimum of 14 (including conductor) as stipulated by agreement between the musicians union and the league of Broadway producers. If not exactly a symphony, this was a number capable of producing, with amplification, a moderately rich sound not unlike what the show’s composer, Leonard Bernstein, might have imagined when he wrote it.

But audiences attending a performance of the production’s nonunion tour — which stopped last Sunday at the Tilles Center on Long Island and continues on the road through May — are seeing, and hearing, something quite different. The orchestra is down to 12 traditional instrumentalists, including four reeds and three horns, with only a lonely violin and cello to sweeten the mix. So why does it seem as dense as it did on Broadway? Why is the string sound so big, if not exactly Bernstein-y?


My high school, Palo Verde High, had double sessions and over a thousand students back in the early 1960's thanks to the housing and baby booms. Our orchestra was the size of most professional orchestras with many violins, a full contingent of cellos, even six basses as well as six French horns, four flutes and even a bassoonist.


We played very demanding music, too. Our orchestra was conducted by the former head of the Washington, DC Marine Corps band and he taught us a great deal and we comported ourselves as if we were a real orchestra. One year, I persuaded him to have us girls wear full-length, elegant black gowns.


We took pride in our accomplishments. Most of us had private coaches and we spent many hours mastering very difficult instruments. Learning to play a cello, for example, takes years. Bassoon: a miracle. Our families spent considerable sums on these enterprises. The lessons, carting us around, competitions in and out of state. My cello who I named 'Flosshilda' after one of the Rhine maidens in the Ring cycle, had have the same priced seats as I when we flew places for she could not tolerate being put in the plane's hold.


Once, going to a concert where I was part of a piano trio in Germany, the train I was on didn't wait for me to remove my luggage and then my cello and it began to leave the platform with me and the cello in the doorway. So I took a deep breath and flung myself into a snowbank, holding Flosshilda over my head.


She was unscratched, I was a bleeding mess. Everyone at the concert marveled at the big patches on my knees and elbow.


All musicians love their instruments and have strong feelings about them. Exploring the temperments, the responses of instruments is marvelous fun. One's personality can be shaped by an instrument even as we try to make the instrument respond to ourselves.


I have noticed this is fading. The panache that came from mastering Rennaisance instrumentations is no longer held in high regard. Just as composition of difficult, subtle music is fading, the ability to appreciate fine distinctions is being lost.

A trained ear that can tell various makes of violin from each other isn't going to be fooled easily by electronics, not even slightly. But one has to be trained to hear this. When playing an instrument, one has to heed its many levels of sound and manipulate this with the mouth or hands. It is an intimacy similar to skilled love-making. One has to caress the keys or finger the necks of these high-bred, nervous giselles.


One false move or badly pursed lips and the nervous femme fatales will protest, sometimes loudly.


From the NYT:

Customers clearly love the result. Peter Hoopes, director of technology as well as conductor of the annual musical at St. Andrew’s, a co-ed boarding school in Delaware, said that in previous years he’d had to make do with whatever instruments his volunteers happened to play. This year, having ordered InstrumentalEase for a production of “Annie Get Your Gun,” he turned on the MacBook, clicked “mute” for the instruments he had in the pit and produced the remainder of the orchestration by tapping while he conducted. He was astonished, as were his musicians.

“When they first heard it,” Mr. Hoopes said, “one of the comments was, ‘Well, I guess you don’t really need us here anymore.’ And it did cross my mind that if I wanted a perfect sound, I could just eliminate them. But we’re a small community, and part of the thrill is that everyone’s contributing. On the other hand, it was nice knowing that if one of the players got sick, I could just unmute that part and go right on.”


The minute amplification is used, the sound is detached from the musician. I never really liked rock concerts but I loved drummers on the street or in the Panhandle in San Francisco. Music that blasts away artificially are like eating fast food versus gourmand dinning. Like the difference between beer made from rice and a fine wine.


“Technology is always a threat to live music,” said Bruce Pomahac, director of music at Rodgers & Hammerstein. “When the pianoforte replaced the harpsichord, every harpsichordist was out of a job. And we all fall in love with the art we grew up with. But this is not about putting musicians out of work. They’re already out of work. This is about trying to get back, in some new form, something that’s lost.”

That may end up being the best the musicians union can hope for too. Could we one day find our orchestra pits filled with tuxedoed men and gowned women tapping at laptops? Mr. Lazarus, of Realtime, said he doesn’t want to wave a red flag at the union, but that the products are already working — and getting better.


Movie theaters over-amplify music to such a degree, the few times I ever bother going to such dens of annoyance, I had to wear earplugs, literally. I haven't gone in over seven years now and don't plan to go ever again. The improvements of modern technology at home, producing much better recordings that my ancient pre-stereo system of my childhood, are nice. When recordings first spread, they created a desire to learn the more difficult instruments.


I belonged to the Schwann catalogue family and bought records every month from my allowances and money I made, working. But the desire to play the cello ran very deep. I remember it very vividly.


I was watching 'Fantasia' at a drive-in theater in Scottsdale in 1956. The first movement of Beethoven's Symphony #6 was playing. As the cellos introduced the theme, out of the clouds came...Pegasus. I was amazed and happy to see him. I decided then and there to learn how to play the cello.


When Jackie Kennedy invited Pablo Cassalls to play at the White House, this was televised. I was glued to the set. And I watched all the Bernstein concerts for young people. I even remember RCA broadcasting whole operas.


Now, it seems that even upper-class communities can no longer muster junior orchestras for putting on simple musicals. I remember my high school orchestra: we had a mini-orchestra for musicals and we put on several different shows a year. And in college, I played in the pit, too. It was fun, we would watch the show from underneath. We would mouth some of the dialogues while making faces, and pull pranks during rehearsals.


Once, the brass section stuck a Playboy centerfold in the middle of the score and our conductor only paused slightly before turning the page. He did snort softly.


Recently I was listening to the BBC's classical station. They played a modern piece and the Mahler's symphony #9. The #9 is a very delicate spiderweb of complex sounds with several levels of rhythm that echoed the great composer's own faltering heart. It literally fades in to nothingness and requires great delicacy in perfoming.


The modern piece was loud, brash, had a harsh beat that was persistent and obvious. It was like playing a piano with a sledge hammer.


Then the Mahler came on and it was butchered to death. The musicians and the conductor couldn't pull themselves together and get that meditative yet compelling mood needed for that work. Instead of the pulsing, wave-like surges that fade and then surge forwards like a sea going out with the tide at sunset, it was choppy and chaotic. I listened as long as I could bear it and finally gave up. Maybe I was spoiled, hearing it with Leopold Ludwig and the London Symphony back in the mid-1960's.


But even back then, classical music was dying. Students were being dragooned into writing crummy music that was unbearable. And so the roots rotted and the well-spring dried up and now we are increasingly lost in the desert where the wild things howl at the moon and the wind hisses around our ankles.


And don't even get me started on poetry. As I keep saying, Pegasus hangs out with the goddesses of dance, music, art, poetry, astronomy and other fun stuff. And he would dearly love to see these arts advance, not die.


And this is Elaine Meinel Supkis of Culture of Life News, goodnight.

Culture of Life News Main Page


Asian People Are Eliminating Their Own Asian Looks

Japanese_dreams_looking_like_aryans
Elaine Meinel Supkis

Japan just launched a cartoon drive to convince Muslims they invaded Iraq with the USA only to be friendly. It is interesting to me to see they gave the cartoon mascot an American name and big 'Western' eyes, nothing Japanese here at all, even slightly. Japan continues to lose its identity and culture.


This is really ridiculous as well as a roadsign, the Japanese inner sense of being is rapidly disintigrating.

By HIROKO TABUCHI
The Associated Press
Perky cartoon character Prince Pickles -- with saucer eyes, big dimples and tiny, booted feet -- poses in front of tanks, rappels from helicopters and shakes hands with smiling Iraqis.

The cutesy icon hardly calls to mind the Japanese military that conquered and pillaged its way across Asia in the first half of the 20th century, and that is just the way the country's leaders want it.

As Japan sheds its postwar pacifism and gears up to take a higher military profile in the world, it is enlisting cadres of cute characters and adorable mascots to put a gentle, harmless sheen to its Self-Defense Forces deployments.


Prince Pickles


During WWII, our soldiers put mascots and cartoon characters on planes. This didn't make their dropping of bombs on civilians any friendlier or cuter. But it was an expression of folk culture in the era of Hollywood and movie theaters showing cartoons before the main movies. After WWII, the Japanese culture took to cartooning with a vengeance and this art form now dominates the culture. No longer do people purchase novels or watch Japanese-made movies, they read manga and watch an amazing variety of animated TV shows.


I have watched a lot of Japanese TV over the years. In California and NYC, there are Japanese language TV shows which include game shows of astonishingly horrible levels of personal physical violence and humiliations as well as comedy routines which often baffled me. Of course, I have watched anime since the late 1950's in this way.


When I was younger, I greatly admired Japanese historical dramas. The filmmakers in Japan had this astonishing visual/dramatic matrix that turned out an astonishing number of beautiful, intriguing artistic films that still stand as monuments of this art form to this very day. The aesthetics characteristic of the Japanese culture have fueled artistic changes in the imperial West since 1860.


Just like the conquest of China and the looting of the palaces by the Europeans sparked many aesthetic changes in European art, the invention of the camera destroyed the need to make accurate images of nature or portraits and artists, seeking new meaning to their endangered professions, latched onto the exotic and interesting point of view developed by Japanese artists after the military dictators closed Japan to all outside influences in the mid-1600s.


This new aesthetic was based on reductions of quality and detail. It was a form of denial and frankly, growing poverty. Cut off from all trade, the Islands grew poorer and poorer. They dealt with this type of North Korean-style denial by celebrating the simple and the less. Instead of painting twenty cranes in an elaborate landscape of lakes, trees and mountains, the artist would paint one or two cranes and a tree branch or two in the foreground, a peak rising out of the mist in the distance and fog and clouds obscuring virtually everything else with just some soft shadows of a farm house and the outline of a forest in the midrange of the painting.


This evolved into capturing moments in nature such as a tsunami wave in the foreground showing all the foam as if captured by a fast shutter camera or perhaps water running around a single rock while an insect hovers innocently above an expectant frog whose tongue is already beginning to snag it. This interesting culture captivated Europe and America right at the same time in history, cameras came into use. This unique culture heavily influenced photography and the new art of film making.


The Japanese, in turn, from the very beginning, tried to ape the European conquerers. There was a rage for dressing and acting like the foreigners from the very beginning. All municipal buildings were built in the European style. The Emperor instantly dropped his cumbersome robes and put on a European uniform. This continued until the nationalist revival of the 1920's. The government encouraged the wearing of kimonos and native garb. They promoted the use of native materials and designs, the piano was to be dropped and replaced by native instruments.


This was part of the global reaction that was joined at the hip to fascism. The military coup took over and imposed these retrogressions forcibly through the schools and community organizations. They banished the concept of Western Beauty and aggressively enforced the old ideals.


With women, it was to make their lips very tiny with an exaggeratedly small outline of lipstick and to pile the hair on the head so the erotic devotion to the nape of the neck could be revived. Kissing lips was not encouraged.


The new cultural dictatorship based on regressive aesthetics collapsed with the defeat of the Japanese Empire. But artists raised during this time period came out of it refreshed so we saw that amazing outburst of movies during the 1950's and onwards. Now that this generation is dying, it is obvious this force is long spent and after it has fed American filmmakers who admired these movies (as I did back then) to make very popular science fiction and fantasy movies here such as the famous Star Wars series, the aesthetics are now a spent force.


The animators in Japan at first copied Walt Disney who had a dark, Germanic hyper-realism coupled with astonishing cruelty. This proved to be too expensive so the Japanese, living in difficult circumstances, used the same aesthetic solution they chose the previous hard times: editing out most of the visual information in order to concentrate on the important matters for the eye and mind, trusting people to construct their own reality off of a series of hints.


The cartoon community in Japan took off like a rocket. Within one generation, it began to conquer the world. Unlike American cartoons, the Japanese animators and writers decided early on to build story lines that didn't merely introduce a new character once and a while like the Flintstones (under Japanese influence) did when they had Wilma give birth, usually, in American cartoons in the newspapers as well as TV, aimed for a static community that never changes (Gasoline Alley being one of the very few exceptions to this iron rule). One new character a decade was the battle plan.


The Japanese not only had over-all story lines, they killed off major characters. Early on, they killed off all the characters with 'Captain Harlock' which I saw as it came out, on Japanese TV here in NYC. I watched it with my child and she loved it tremendously until the characters began to die off. I told her, this happens occasionally but when they all died in a final, fatal battle, she was in tears. But still loved the show!


Since then, the signs of a culture in collapse have begun to show increasingly. At first, the bad guys had Germanic features, heh, and some were aliens with green or blue hair. Then the good guys began to look more and more like they grew up in Berlin.


Today, virtually no anime males or females who are 'sexually attractive' look Asian! I see a lot of anime and it is rarer and rarer to see the classic Asian eyes, it isn't merely enlarging them anymore, fewer and fewer are even brown in color.

SEOUL, Feb. 22 (Xinhua) -- A survey shows that more than 77 percent of South Korean women think they need plastic surgery, the Korea Times reported on Thursday.

According to a thesis by Um Hyun-shin at South Korea's Kyung Hee University's clothing and textiles department, 77.5 percent of a total of 810 female respondents over the age of 18 said during a survey conducted last September that they wanted cosmetic surgery. While 62 percent of women in their late 20s have already undergone cosmetic surgery, the survey shows.

About 70 percent of the respondents said they have suffered stress due to their appearance, the survey said.

The collapse of both culture and identity in Asia is now running at an amazing level. Using surgery and chemicals, Asians have been ridding themselves of their natural appearance at an amazing pace. Before WWII, many women in Asia like many women in the West, curled their hair. For some reason, Western ideals of beauty involved curling the hair going back to ancient Rome.


In the Jewish community, the visual ideal is a Nazi German. Namely, fixing the nose so it is nordic, dying the hair blonde or other alterations, this has so erased the visual identity of many Jewish people, particularly the females, outside of the severest of ghetto-culture fanatical fringes of that ethnic group, it is nearly impossible to tell an adult of Jewish ancestry from any other northern European 'master race' representatives.


In the black community, Michael Jackson carried this eradication of one's own self to the furthest extreme as he has obviously gone insane. The global need to look like Hitler's ideal German is growing, not shrinking. Even Hitler himself was a million miles away from his own ideals, dark haired, small in stature, he showed virtually none of these traits.


Communist China locked out outsiders so much that when my mostly-Nordic looking, 6'1" tall mother came to Beijing, people literally banged into street lamps or fell into the gutter because they were staring so hard at her, they didn't see where they were going. When she went to the theater, the entire audience would rise to stare in wonder at her.


She had dark curly hair so she wasn't the 'ideal' but a sister of mine was: over 6' tall and straight blonde hair, blue eyes, etc. I wasn't quite so tall so I wasn't the perfect ideal but was close enough to get attention. In Saudi Arabia, my mother, even in her veils, towered over the men and women.


This height ideal is sweeping Asia today as women desperately try to get the long legs, etc. This is very hard to change yet in China, women undergo painful surgery to make their legs long. Fashion shows nearly uniformly feature 6'+ tall 'Nordic' style women mostly from ancient Viking communities in Russia, the Slav/Norse look being the global ideal.


The black community in America during the 1960's and early 1970's celebrated African beauty and culture. I was very enthusiastic about this push for identity and enjoyed its fruits from my own perspective. When I was dating a Black Panther, he dropped me because, 'I shouldn't be seduced by your obvious German looks.'


I agreed. For the last 200 years, America's culture has been tremendously enriched by our captive Africans. They have created many of the things the world considers 'American'. In all the arts, they have been the fresh stream of creativity. But despite this, they too are seeing their cultural identity collapsing.


This brings me to the one community actively resisting this interior collapse: Islam. This roaring battle we are having stems from a deep unease over the Norsification of all cultures. The Nazi ideal has been sweeping the planet thanks to modern technology.


But unlike their peers in Asia--where blepharoplasty is the No. 1 cosmetic procedure--young Asian-American women who consider the surgery are more likely to grapple with the idea that the procedure will also alter their ethnic identities, according to Dr. Charles Lee, a plastic surgeon in Los Angles who specializes in blepharoplasty.

"There is more resistance to the procedure here than in Asia," he told Women's eNews.

The mascot the Japanese militarists chose is telling: they made the pupils small, unlike most anime characters who have huge pupils, and the 'eyes' look more like American WWII 'Nip' characters who wear huge eye glasses. The choice of an utterly inappropriate name belittles the character. The 'P' sound is 'funny'.


Their attempt at making themselves look friendly while aping Americans who are at total war with these many Islamic tribes and cultures is a double whammy. In the article, the Japanese war ministry officials claim, putting an anime figure on their vehicles prevented them from being blown up, is condescending and racist.


The idea that the Japanese were protected from attack because the Islamic fighters were attracted by a soccer character is pure racism. The Japanese, like the other 'coalition' criminals, were stationed in 'safe' areas while we deliberately undertook the dirty job of crushing the will of the Islamic fighters.


The fact that Asia is losing its culture and identity and is even wiping out their very appearance as people, working with the USA who is the chief engine of this cultural devolution, to crush the Islamic resistance, is yet another historic irony.


In California, groups of all ethnicities have vied to transform themselves into a Caucasian standard of beauty. Jewish women undergo rhinoplasty, or "nose jobs," and African Americans have undergone the same, along with lip reductions and skin lightening.

Despite an era that seems, at least superficially, to celebrate multiculturalism, these procedures suggest that many women still nonetheless experience physical characteristics that indicate ethnicity as negative features. For Asians, ethnically defined by their unique eyes, eyelid surgery is a particularly dramatic example.

The 'celebration of multiculturalism' is the Western culture trying desperately to revive itself even as it loses all sense of tribal/cultural identity. We nervously move about the planet, seeking 'primitive' cultures to suck into our own maws. I used to do this, we all do this. This is what 'National Geographic' is all about.


In America, celebrating 'redneck culture' is just like celebrating Japanese culture or tribes in wildest Africa and so on: we can't handle things anymore. Opera, ballet, the fine arts, etc, are falling apart. Quite literally. We can't create much of anything new anymore.


The wellspring has dried up and now we are seeking salvation, hoping to find some vibrant expression that will ease our ennui. Like the Roman Empire, we have used up the treasures of Classical culture and now are raiding tribal culture.


Japanese animators make fun of Europeans and Americans who are attracted to Asian looks and adopt Asian cultural standards such as wearing old-fashioned garb and eating and sleeping in the old ways. But we are attracted to all that! This is why Buddhists who are too 'American' are not interesting but Japanese or Tibetan Buddhists are beloved and devoted upon by their American followers.


The local Japanese Buddhist nun near my own home loves American Indians a lot. She dotes on their culture and champions their causes. But the people seeking her out are in love with her own alien looks and customs. She barely recognizes this because she feels her own self is normal. But she is definitely a curiosity.


We have Asian members in our own family. We really love them the way they look, the very same Asian features so many Asian men and women are trying to erase are the exact same features we adore! It is really terrible, watching this process at work.


A planet of uniform people all looking like Nazis would be the nightmare world we should fear.

Culture of Life News Main Page


Disney Abuses Child Actors Which Is Why They Go Crazy

Elaine Meinel Supkis


Our media has gone crazy over the tattered affairs of the lastest child actor/adult mess up with the perennial Britney Spears. Like so many of her previous fellow child actors, she was launched by the odious Disney machine. This horrible organization that destroys the childhoods of many children who are selected to be turned into icons of corporate pleasure, often go insane.


The most dangerous time for children stars is when they transit to adulthood. The twins used by the Disney machine for many years are now nearly totally insane. One of them is starving herself to death. They grace the covers of gossip rags that chronicle their ongoing deaths.


The recent death from drug abuse of one of the richest whores on earth has also gripped the press and the public. This former Playboy bunny was, like many of her cohorts, objectified and used as an icon for a corporate entity. The death rate of these poor young women barely out of their teens when picked up and turned into objects, is rather horrific.


The public and rich men need to devour an endless supply of supine or insecure young people. This empowers the users. Nothing like elevating a captivating young person and then turning them into the Whore of Babylon crossed with John the Baptist without his head, Salome is the mother of all these creatures.


She dances for us and sings her heart out and then is ripped to pieces and dies. And we are satiated and moralized at the same time. 'Look at her miserable death!' we all crow, dancing for joy at the downfall of these slutty, for sale sex objects.


Maria Callas was a high-class example of this, she died younger than I am today:

Maria Callas (Greek: Μαρία Κάλλας) (December 2, 1923 – September 16, 1977) was an American-born Greek dramatic coloratura soprano and perhaps the best-known opera singer of the post-World War II period. She combined an impressive bel canto technique with great dramatic gifts. An extremely versatile singer, her repertoire ranged from classical opera seria, to the bel canto operas of Donizetti, Bellini, and Rossini, to Verdi, Puccini, and in her early career, the music dramas of Wagner. Her remarkable musical and dramatic talents led to her being hailed La Divina.


Unlike the more feeble talents of many of the sex symbols we destroy in the pop culture, Maria had a very serious talent and astonishing, historic abilities. She sang difficult roles too early on and ruined one of the century's finest voices when she should have been hitting her stride. I knew a Greek shipowner who worshipped her and he hated Onassis, a rival of his, for dumping her.


Even with her voice in tatters, she still was a person to watch. And the media watched her collapse with rapt attention. So here are two recordings of her great singing.


La Traviata: Verdi made one of the greatest operas based on the life and death of a whore. A merry young woman who rose to power through her undeniable sexual abilities. And she died terribly young, worn out from all that celebratory passion. Like with so many of these commercial sex objects/young women, on her death, the estate is ripped apart by ravening wolves seeking to regain her wealth, pitiful as it might be.

Mad Scene (Part II) from Donizetti's Lucia di Lammermoor, sung by Maria Callas live in Berlin in 1955

Callas sings with amazing skill and beauty in this very old recording. As she lost her voice, she lost all reason to live. She had to drug herself to sleep and like Marilyn Monroe, she made it eternal. The allure of fame seduces many innocents to enter the Temple of the Whore. And there, they are decked out and given new names and new reasons to live and then are thrown into the pit to fight bulls and elephants. They always end up trampled to death or torn apart by the lions, tigers and bears the press release later on.


They are all Blanche.


The madness of Blanche in 'A Streetcar Named Desire' is a good analogy for our endless need to gape at cute children on various Disney cotton-candy shows---then to enjoy their discomforts with real life. The Disney business always likes the Dark Shadows aspects of their fantasy realm, just like much of Victorian child literature has a very strong strain of sexual preversion from men lusting for young boys and girls.



Just as Blanche is hauled off to the clinic/funny farm, so are all these broken adults whose childhoods were set aflame so Disney could pocket some more cash or Hugh Hefner could pretend he was sexually powerful and in control of his own libido. Unlike the secure and serene priestesses of ancient Crete handling snakes, baring their breasts while wafting around in frilly skirts, these new goddesses are insecure and unhappy. They feel a need like all those concentration-camp fashion models, most of whom are under 23 years old, to starve themselves to death. This helps them feel in control as well as singular unlike ordinary women. And it prevents them from becoming real women.


Just this week, the men who clothe and abuse fashion models had some pose in front of blown-up photos of concentration camp victims. This echoing of a serious charge was meant to be a cynical attack on concerned adults who want to stop this evolving style of starving models literally to death.


So it is interesting seeing the Disney girls either starving themselves to death or shaving their heads to look like what they really are: victims of fascism.


I find none of this funny or edifying. May they all find peace without dying. And I hope they all sue Disney like the heirs of Milne sued to regain control of the Pooh business.


Culture of Life News Main Page


Romans Loved Homely Faces 2000 Years Ago

Anthony_and_cleopatra_talk_business
Elaine Meinel Supkis

The media has made a big to-do about Marc Antony and Cleopatra being 'ugly'. This isn't because they weren't 'beautiful'---they were proud of who they were back then and wanted exact portraits of every ill-begotten feature. The sterner, the better. This was when Rome was still a 'Republic'.

Like the communist despots of several obvious countries, the Romans liked their actual faces no matter how unlovely.

National Geographic
February 15, 2007—

She was the legendary queen of Egypt who seduced two of the most powerful men in the ancient world.

But a silver coin that went on display at a British university yesterday suggests Cleopatra's beauty may be Hollywood fiction.


A very common misunderstanding about sexual attraction is, the man or woman has to have 'physical beauty.' Throughout the evolution of humanoids, the markers of 'beauty' have strayed all over the map. One epoch's lovelies are another's uglies. Just in the last 150 years, the canons of desirability have shifted mightily.


For example, in the Victorian era, tall, skinny women were considered ugly, too horrible to even contemplate. Tall, skinny women with huge mouths and gigantic dentistry were terrifying creatures akin to witches and warlocks. Big feet and big hands were horrible, too.


Women about 4' 10" tall, with dainty hands and very small feet, big hips and small waist cinched up by the corsets all upper class women wore, a very small mouth, if a woman of the upper classes so much as opened these bud-sized lips to openly laugh, she would be very dismayed and so, she would cover her face to hide any sight of an open mouth.


In the post-WWI era, first small, boyish women were tres chic, women bobbed their hair and wore clothes similar to young boy's garb in the previous decades. Then things shifted yet again and tall, thin women became the role models in the mid-1930's. The tall, thin model has pretty much stayed with us since then leading to women looking like preying mantises, seeking mates to suck dry.


Since the appearance of beauty has shifted so violently in just a short historic time, expecting this to not be true in the dim past is silly. The conquering tribes forging empires were not known for their loveliness but rather their cunning ways and ability to organize invasions. Alexander the Great is most unusual in being attractive looking...his father certainly was not, he looked more like a pirate.


Cleopatra descended from one of Alexander's generals, Ptolemy. He was a hard fighting, ugly old dog. Since he took over the Egyptian quadrant of the empire conquered by Alexander, his family married strictly for political gain. Throughout history, a woman with an ugly face but with tremendous wealth and lands, always is very attractive to hosts of males.


To this very day, this is true. Women with no lands, no wealth, must struggle to appear appealing but women born to the manor like Queen Elizabeth, don't have to try at all. She, like many monarchs in the past, strives to appear as sensible and plain as possible while using garb to project power, thus the crowns, the royal robes of ermine and purple.


The conflict between her and Princess Di, a woman desperate to appear attractive and desirable, is a classic clash which I would suppose, Shakespeare would have made much out of if this happened in his own time.


Shakespeare's play, 'Anthony and Cleopatra' discusses the issue of 'beauty' of the queen of Egypt versus the daughter of Octavian.

In Egypt, Cleopatra learns of Antony's marriage, and takes furious revenge upon the messenger that brought her the news. She grows content only when her courtiers assure her that Octavia is homely by Elizabethan standards: short, low-browed, round-faced and with bad hair.


Cleopatra was well-educated and held court with many philosophers and scientists who fled the collapse of Athens and the enslavement of the former free citizens of that once-great state. Alexander clipped their liberties but still supported their thinking and writings which is why he founded the world's greatest library in Egypt in his New City: Alexandria.


And Cleopatra reigned there and she protected the Classic Culture. The greatest tragedy to befall humanity after her death, as the Roman Empire rotted, this library was attacked by maddened Christians who burned it to the ground, rejoicing in the destruction of the greatest philosophers on earth.


The Romans were a rough, ill-bred lot. When Roman generals met women trained in the classics, able to talk about geometry or physics, poetry and arts, they were easily smitten. Cleopatra was the top woman at that time in these matters. Her melodious voice didn't talk about domestic things, she spun a finer web.

From the National Geographic article:

"Roman writers tell us that Cleopatra was intelligent and charismatic, and that she had a seductive voice but, tellingly, they do not mention her beauty. The image of Cleopatra as a beautiful seductress is a more recent image."


Many, many great actresses have had plain faces. Even ones with age ravaging them mercilessly can still move men to desire and women to wonder just because of their regal bearing or beautifully trained voices! Often, a pretty face is spoiled when the bearer speaks.


Indeed, I assure everyone, sexual desire has very little to do with prettiness. The greatest courtesans, if they are painted by dispassionate artists, have little to recommend except they all have triumphed through cleverness and a quick mind that can swim through any situation. Confidence coupled with knowledge of human psychology, they reel in powerful or rich men, effortlessly.


Click here to see a gallery of frightful or interesting Roman ruling elite faces.

The Romans were interesting because they were 'realists.' This meant, they prided themselves on what and who they were and were proud to present misshapen noses, scars, dewlaps, furrowed brows or grim mouths. Indeed, the other people to have this sentiment were the Italians during the Renaissance and Revolutionary America, leading into Victorian Europe's stout frank appraisals of their own imperial selves.


Click here to see one really frightful face of a prominent politically active Roman citizen.

This sculpture is typical of the portraiture of the late Republic. The portrait is life-size and probably formed part of a statue, bust or funerary relief. The head is carved in the so-called veristic style that represented the subject in a highly realistic manner, in this case with the furrowed brow, sunken cheeks and grave expression of an older man. Links have been drawn between this style of portraiture and the death masks or imagines maiorum of Roman ancestors, which were carried in funeral processions. The portrait also illustrates the impact of Hellenism on Rome, since these portraits were inspired by Hellenistic portraiture and were probably carved by Greek artists.


The Classic Greeks used standardized models for themselves, preferring the ideal over the actual. Except for a few statues like the irritating, annoying Socrates who they killed, he was shown in some of his ugly featured frowning self but the few busts of him don't hold a candle to the host of images the Romans made of themselves showing all their cold cruelty and calculating lust to eternity's gaze.


Going through a gallery of these harsh faces is dismaying but also instructive. Like the grim, calculating faces of even the Victorian courtesans, coldly eying the artist painting them reclining naked, is amusing considering how our present-day beauties have to bare their teeth in such aggressive smiles, they look like sharks or killer whales about to swallow its prey.


We think such faces are lovely and desirable but I am betting other generations will be disgusted or horrified. Tastes change.


Incidentally, architects working to shore up the Emperor's palaces in Rome stumbled upon the secret cave the Romans believed their founding fathers lived in with a she-wolf.

Archaeologists from the Department of Cultural Heritage of the Rome Municipality came across the 50-foot-deep (15-meter-deep) cavity while working to restore the decaying palace.

"We were drilling the ground near Augustus' residence to survey the foundations of the building when we discovered the cave," said Irene Iacopi, the archaeologist in charge of the area.

"We knew from ancient reports that the Lupercale shouldn't be far from the Emperor's palace, but we didn't expect to find it. It was a lucky surprise.


A brutal, conquering people claiming an origin from wolves and abandoned twins isn't going to be very concerned it looking pretty. As the empire rotted, the inability to face the truth and reality became epidemic and the strong portraits of the earlier republic's strong ruling classes became simple and prettier, silly and weak, no furrowed brows on the well-fed, self-satisfied latter spawn.


Then for nearly 1000 years, portraits vanished. Only stock images with rigid faces staring at nothingness prevailed. Only with the rebirth of humanism and the rediscovery of a few of the books that didn't perish when the Great Library of Alexandria was burned, did artists again paint or carve honest portraits.


Culture of Life News Main Page


Some 'East Is Red' Ballets In Honor Of China

Picture_10
Elaine Meinel Supkis


I found this hilarous French movie making fun of Communist Chinese ballets. I wish I could find Nixon in China which is one of my favorite modern operas written by an American, haven't seen that in over 15 years! But this take-off had me laughing nonstop.



&hearts In once scene in this ballet parody, Americans march onstage.

t's from a 1970s French movie 'Chinese In Paris'(Les Chinois A Paris). 600 million PLA 'liberated' West Europe without a single battle. French president fled to US and a bunch of collaborators worked with PLA to form a Sino-French republic. However, PLA finally corrupted and was defeated by captalism and retreated back to China. The video is a hilarious parody of once-famous Chinese ballet 'Red Column Of Women' in the Cultural Revolution. Its details are unbelievably correct and music matches perfectly. French rules!

My parents were in Beijing during the Cultural Revolution. They were invited to hear an orchestral concert. The Chinese wanted to please them so they played 'Turkey in the Straw'! Everyone waited to see what my parents did. When they applauded the orchestra, everyone in the audience applauded happily INCLUDING THE ORCHESTRA which bowed to my parents.


Then they played it again.


The whole nation was terrorized by Madame Mao. It pleases me to see such great music, dance and art come out of that huge nation even while not being 'free' as we are...I hope we are free. Gads. This reminds me that we are losing culture as they are gaining culture. Tis rather a bad swing of the old pendulum.



&hearts Here is one of the original versions of the official Chinese 'The East Is Red' type ballet.

Short Scene: The lead character has been rescued by the Communist Party's Red Army. She is overwhelmed with emotion to be in the liberated area where she is free from feudal oppression and exploitation. (less)


&hearts This is a BBC story about the Shining Path women just before they were killed, note how they were allowed to put on communist shows in their prison.

From the film, "People of the Shining Path," women prisoners of war giv performance for guests on International Women's Day 1992. Shortly afterwards, the Fujimori government assaulted the prison and killed many prisoners after their surrender


I had a sister in an Argentine prison until I helped spring her. She said all kinds of things like that go on in South American prisons. She mostly played basketball in her prison.



&hearts Today, the Maoists in Nepal are in the news a lot.

Nepali Maoist song. Captured from a website, so the quality is compromised.

They don't bother with pointwork or marching in ranks, I notice. Mostly, they climb up and down steep mountainsides. I suppose they could finish their songs with a flourish by assaulting Mt. Everest! Being able to march up and down steep mountains is a great skill. The Swiss made a lot of money selling their services, marching around Italy for several hundred years. Builds up the lungs and legs.


Culture of Life News Main Page

Vienna, 1907

Elaine Meinel Supkis


The afterglow of one of the greatest cultural periods in human history still haunt us a hundred years as it shines in the distance like a red light edging black clouds, Vienna, 1907. So many painters, writers, poets, musicians, composers, astronomers, physics, medicine, psychiatry! The golden clouds shining with a blinding light! Out of this stalked one of history's greatest mass murderers. Why?


When the Emperor released the Jews from their medieval ghettos, the well-spring of freedom and civil rights released a tremendous amount of creative energy which also swept through other peoples, the Czechs, the Slovaks, the Bohemians, Germans, everyone benefitted from this new freedom and as always, free people are creative and a culture developed rapidly that covered every possible activity. And the other empires of Europe had rich cultures, too, but the significance of the Vienna hot house: it probed the innermost depths of the human soul, the outermost limits of nature. This was the weakest of all the Empires. Yet the riches it created were a towering achievement.


&hearts Gustav Klimt's absolutely amazing works of art and the sweet music of Gustav Mahler.


&hearts


If I included all the artists like Dvorak, the cellist's best friend, or Dr. Freud, the man who drew the ancient world into the modern and merged them in a creative bond that fueled many of the works of art and music of his time, Einstein, the man who revolutionized the very heavens, the list is long and distinguished.


Today, I sit in the middle of the American Empire. We have created a culture, too. But something is going wrong. The intellectual hard work of striving to see the impossible, the desire to understand the darker, deeper meanings of existence, is missing.


Not that the great cultural structure built by the turn of the century geniuses saved them from utter, hideous destruction! For when their empire imploded, it destroyed nearly everything, enough was saved for us to live fuller lives and to be changed forever by the fierce, refined, powerful human forces released during this short time period.


&hearts Is is an older New Yorker article about Hitler.

The young Hitler was wild for Wagnerian opera, stately architecture, and inventive graphic art and design. His taste in painting was—and remained—philistine. He swore by Eduard von Grützner, a genre painter of jolly, drunken Bavarian monks. Hitler's own stilted early efforts were the work of a provincial tyro who was ripe for instruction that he never received. (The show includes a rather nice watercolor of a mountain chapel, from a commission that was secured for him by Samuel Morgenstern, a Jewish dealer.) As with any drifting young life, Hitler's might have gone in a number of ways. The most exasperating missed opportunity was the possibility of working under the graphic artist and stage designer Alfred Roller, a member of the anti-academic Secession movement whose sets for the Vienna Court Opera's productions of Wagner, which were conducted by Mahler, foreshadowed Nazi theatricality. With a letter of introduction to Roller, Hitler approached the great man's door three times without mustering the nerve to knock. As it turned out, he seems never to have consorted with anyone whose ego overmatched his own. Grandiose and rigidly puritanical, he was a figure of fun to many of his mates in Vienna's lower depths. He accumulated humiliations on the way to becoming a god of revenge for the humiliated of Germany. Meanwhile, his adopted city fired his imagination. In "Mein Kampf," he recalled, "For hours, I could stand in front of the Opera, for hours I could gaze at the parliament; the whole Ring Boulevard seemed to me like an enchantment out of the 'Thousand and One Nights.' "

&hearts Arnold Shoenberg in English


What started as a meaningless assassination turned into an attempt at suppressing the Serbs in the Christian parts of the former Ottoman Empire then became a violent free-for-all. Mahler's symphonies and Wagner's operas and above all Richard Strauss' shocking Salome, all sorts of confusing energies converged and mixed in with a feeling of doom and rebirth to hatch WWI. As that war writhed across Europe, everyone was as helpless as Salome to stop it.



Teatro de la Zarzuela de Madrid. May 1979
Montserrat Caballé as Salome, Fritz Uhl as Herodes, Josephine Veasey as Herodias, Julius Rudel conductor (less)


&hearts A depraved inner collapse into the more cannibalistic parts of our collective psyche, Salome reveled in the power of Dionysius.

In addition to such unconventional and popular works as Elektra (1909), Richard Strauss (German, 1864-1849) composed the opera for the German translation of Oscar Wilde's adaptation of Salome, first performed by the Dresden Opera in 1905. It is fitting that Strauss was the man who transformed Wilde's Salome -- the text of which features the attempted seduction of John the Baptist (Iokanaan) followed by Salome's unprecedented passionate post-mortem kiss for the prophet -- into opera; both Wilde and Strauss were criticized widely for unconventionality in their works. Strauss's opera was broadly rejected at first because of the "immorality" of its content--a sequence of events which raises uncomfortable questions about the deep sensuality of the Christian tradition--and for the heroine's disregard for the Christian morality.


Today, in America, much of our livelier parts of our culture comes out of the very poor, the descendants of slaves. Unlike in Vienna, much of our art is derivative or due to lack of time, swiftly done, cheap, even. Gigantic objects, overblown staged effects in movies, bombast mixed with childish naivity, rather than trying to plumb the depths of the human condition, to understand the universe and place ourselves in emotional jeopardy, our art strives to satiate and coddle.


I can barely watch any movies made these days because they are so irritatingly shallow, I have been spoiled, brought up in a cultural oddity, out of step with the century. Freud has been cast out as 'useless' by people who misunderstand the true value of his inspirations. Looking backwards into the oldest of stories told by distant ancestors, the revelations they sensed, this is part of the ability to understand our souls which don't 'exist' at all yet is the Key to our own selves!


Looking at this, finding this, understanding this, if we have any purpose in life, in the end, it is to die after understanding our own souls. And not with cheap tricks like 'Jesus loves me!' short-cuts.


The people in America dreaming of the End of Times are like Hitler who couldn't grasp the inner meanings of some of the greatest works of art that was growing all around him, lush and frightfully beautiful, it was all weeds to him, things to be uprooted and burned. So is all culture with these new nihilists.


Oscar Wilde decided to stay in England which was not experiencing this level of freedom and they put him in prison for being gay. Once he left, a broken man, he died, ever smaller, weaker, unfree. Rulers of Europe and America sought to crush all this, many artists and creators were hunted down, persecuted for their sex or their beliefs, ethnicity or truth telling.


Just as these same destroyers of culture are out to eliminate not just Freud but also Darwin not to mention Einstein, the have taken control of vast swaths of America and it shows. Despite them, those of us who congregate in certain areas like New York City, manage to ride the winged horse bred and trained in Vienna so long ago. But every year, this gets threatened by these deadly minimalists.


Just as we see fearful people in Muslim lands trying to control culture the same way, the wars being waged by all these groups is endangering not just culture but the planet. And the Jews who spearheaded this amazing rebirth of culture, they are also losing it all as they degrade and debase themselves chasing after penniless Arab children, chopping down old olive trees, brutalizing helpless pregnant women. It is making them smaller and weaker where it matters: in the soul, in the heart, the throne of liberation, an electric chair like the one in Fritz Lang's 'Metropolis', the chair of the robot who has no feelings but lust.


Culture of Life News Main Page

Remembering Du Pre', Great Cellist, Great Spirit

Jacqueline_du_pre
Elaine Meinel Supkis


Last night I looked for films of the great cellist, Jacqueline du Pre. I always admired and loved her interpetations of any style of cello music but her majestic yet shimmering performances of English and French impressionistic composers were unsurpassed. Struck down when she was barely 24 years old by multiple sclerocis, her flower had barely begun to open. The loss of this rare talent haunts all cellists.


&hearts Click here for her homepage.


This documentary was made with her desires and feedback. It is an expression of how she sees herself: a free spirit, an energetic woman who loved nature and loved everyone around her with intense passion. Like Isador Duncan, the spirit of Dionysius gripped her when she was playing and watching her hands move even as she was becoming increasingly paralyzed by her fatal disease, it is remarkable how fluid and full of brilliance her movements are!


This unity of spirit and body is a rare thing. In flamenco dancing, the ability to let go and channel the flames of creativity, to flow with the inner force of the music and the moment, a total surrender to the forces of nature while at the same time, defining them and shaping them---this is the wellspring of all great art.


Jacqueline didn't just play the cello, she embraced it, she merged with it, she felt its history, its pain, its glory. When an anonymous admirer bought her the famous Davidoff cello, one of only a few in the world rated as superb, the 300 year old instrument reached new heights. She actually prefered her own instrument that she had merged with for her entire childhood and youth, the severing of this relationship caused her tremendous pain but the adult in her knew she had to master the more difficult but more expressive instrument. She had barely begun this process which needed great intelligence and sensitivity when her hands began to fail her mind.


I remember how this happened. She had a full, but not too demanding, concert schedule that was carefully mapped out by her husband she just married, the great conductor, Barenboim. We were all hoping for another tour of the USA and our cello class planned to see her perform. Several of us younger women were very excited about her high spirits, her ability to embrace and literally caress the cello yet still speak with authority, her 'singing' was on the level of any of the greatest divas on the operatic stage. At this time, around 1970, she cancelled one engagement after another, first one or two, then suddenly, the entire schedule.


Nothing was said about this. She was, at this point, under SAVAGE attack from hateful people who were in a full throttle battle with all classical music and musicians, trying to kill off any melodic love, poetry that sang and any suggestion of sex! Gads! I had huge battles back then within the music department. 'Music is all about terror, love, pain and glory!' I would shout at professors. If they played souless, 'objective' music that was all intellectual noodlings and no feelings at all except boredom and disgust, I would wail and cover my ears and yell, 'Stop! Stop!'


My teachers would yell at me and I yelled a them, enjoying the battles while they wailed in pain because they wanted to be followed, they wanted us to march into this deadly black hole of modern music, the End of Times. Simultaneously, they would complain the audiences were melting away.


'No, you are driving them away. Why not compose music with melody in it?' I asked. 'Melody???? Are you insane?' I was told. The New York Times music critic hated melody and if some poor composer actually wrote anything delightful, he would snarl and snap and drive the heretic out of the Temple.


Into this mess stepped the world's most astonishing, warm, life-filled, Dionysian Maenad. All the guardians of the new, post-Guerreliederian Schoenberg warriors attacked her for being... too emotional! Not severe enough! She sang! Gah!


The reason I adored her was exactly how she expressed incredible depth of feeling using a mere instrument. The cello is nothing unless someone like her turned it into a voice of the goddesses who live on Parnassus with Pegasus.


I wondered how she could so beautifully express the inner sorrow of the cello which is the mature lady in the firmament of instruments: mellow, generous, deep throated, one of the harder instruments to handle without strong sexual bonding. Watching Jacqueline embracing her cello was as fascinating as watching a dancer who is transported by her art. I am unhappy that we didn't get to film her every time she performed. Anyone wishing to be a great musician or dancer should watch these few films of her. Her face, so animated, so expressive, her arms as limber and fascinating as a flamenco dancer's arms, her thighs clutching and releasing energy: the perfect balance of sex, love, emotion, fear, understanding.


Sigh. And they attacked this incredible woman and tried to make her feel small and useless right at the same time her body was giving up to a terrible disease! One day, we were preparing for cello class where we play for each other. I was tuning up my cello when one of du Pre's fans came running into the room in tears. 'Jackie just announced she has multiple slcerosis!' she gasped and then collapsed in tears. I was stunned. The injustice of this! The cruelty of the gods! We composed a joint letter to her expressing our support and love. It was all we could do at the time.


I will never cease loving her. Watching her play on film filled my eyes with tears yet filled me with happiness, I hope there is some equally blessed young girl out there who will fill this void. For no one has been able to, yet.


And I do pray there will be a cure for this debilitating disease. We should be spending money on this, not war.







&hearts



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