New Civilization News: Closed encounters    
 Closed encounters4 comments
picture 3 Feb 2006 @ 10:18, by Unknown

of phantoms return us to ourselves for a redefinition, a modern, updated, to the minute, second . . a liveable reality. My dawning occured in a house designed by an architects' architect, above reproach. He suffered cogenitive deafness, like his sister a renowned landscape gardener; they worked together if possible on housing projects with gardens, in central city places.

It was a house sit for 6 weeks, alone. Strong scupltural pieces of half walls and pedestals in the main living room with a cave like recess supporting the staircase up to a level with clerestory windows allowing light and cool but not direct hot strong tropical sun. A small courtyard walled garden extended effortless from the living space grown only with naturally occuring wild plants of the area. The separation of these with a single piece of glass constituted the very best use of this most agressive of all materials, I have ever seen. The word explored here was resonance, and not what they tell you in books. I realised that this person who could not hear (music) had built into all his abodes deep seated resonances which the 3rd ear (the skin) can hear and feel as different tones. A square pedestal, a half wall, a curved thick wall, clay tiles on the floor, no doors visible, it was this bringing relief to a working body. In other words if there is pandemonium outside, the immediate proximity of these forms will override the other distant echoes venturing into the area.

My persona admits of no national boundary
The art in its clamour forged by Vulcan’s foundry
Returns the spirit to search out genius loci.
Form thus engendered through Harmony springs
Transformation to life on which it is hinged.

Cupid’s quiver marks out a place
In difference to all others; and,
Recognised so a haven establishes
For temporary repose to nurture and beget.
A realm of existence unable to forget.

On the ascension of Mars the genius departs.
Mere form seeks a Defence; ire provoked
By impending desolation hurls itself into
Tumultuous destruction.
Genius preserved succours, breathing to the heartbeat.

In Wilderness strewn of rock and plains
Vulcan’s forging the symbiotic personae.


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3 Feb 2006 @ 11:58 by judih : nsr
a strange vision permeates the place
who am i to receive?
yet, without a doubt
i perceive and carry on
truth ripples out of ancient imagery  

7 Feb 2006 @ 12:38 by rayon : Gorgeous pic
Thank you, would that be to Jeff? Amazing - apologies for using the Roman Vulcan instead of Greek Haephestos, for obvious reasons.
Yeah, didn't have a comment so I put up a pic!

10 Feb 2006 @ 12:07 by rayon : Deserving,
(A picture is worth a 1000's words?) this illustration above, of the rendition composed 8 years later, from Pope's translation:

And thus having spoken, Ephaestus the god of Fire
Returns limping to the fiery labours of the forge
At his bidding to blow, the bellows heaved
And twenty forges all at once catch ablaze
As the god directs wind rushing loud and pausing low
Into the roaring mass and fiercesome glow
Where mighty crucibles amongst the flaming coals
Take huge silver bars, tin, brass and solid gold
Pedastled before the furnace the eternal anvils stand
Loading the ponderous hammer in his better hand
the tongs in his left turn and wrought the metal round

Then first he formed the immense and heavy shield
Emblazened with rich artifice and its very edge a triple rim
Five ample plates broad, a thick silver chain suspends.
On the convex surface arose the shining images of the master
There the Earth, there Heaven , and there the ocean he designed
The untiring sun, the moon completely full
With starry lights of Pliarthus, Yarthes crowning
the Nightly sphere
And shining Orianus, around which the great
chariot of the sky
Revolves, pointing his golden eye.

Two radiant cities on the shield appear
The images of one in peace, and one in fear
Here solemn pomp and genial feast delight
Sacred dance, and hymeneal rite proceeds
The bridal train leading along the route
With torches flaming, to the nuptial bed.
Youthful dancers in a circle bound
To the soft flute, and the cithern’s pristine sound
Throughout the fair streets, the families line up
Standing in their doorways, to enjoy the show
. . . . . . . . . to be continued, one day

NSR: November 2001, excerpt, for Theatro Technis, Mornington Crescent  

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