• [694]

    In graphic arts true-to life-make sense in so far as presentation and re-presentation at some stage simultaneously present cf. identity check when passing borders.

    What about language? Somebody good at mimicking voice of somebody does not go deep enough, using somebody voice for pun. Like caricature need not go to source but add to already scheme of schematic. Playwright then? Too deep. Drama does not portray but penetrate deeper and deeper.

    True-to-life is no exchange of ideas. Impression of The Investigations simply pursued by author engaged in writing true to life.

    Wittgenstein 'language games' compiled to picture album. An album is not about anything but collection of scraps be checked against author in presence. Best case Wittgenstein lecturing. Why student notes from his lectures so instructive.

    When actor miss cue prompter re-connect. In capacity of being his own prompter Wittgenstein helped back to grammar of life whenever risk fall into some line of thought stuck in moras of words it produces. Cues delivered from his own inconspicuous presence in blank space between paragraphs. His inner prompter no hidden company with office help him back in line of thought but the opposite: to disrupt connection to any score whenever such invitation presents itself easy way out.

  • [3148]
    Beethoven third movement op.132 string quartet called Heliliger Dankgesang written 1825 after period of abdominal pain. Patience of endurance interrupted twice by episodes of heightened spirits underscoring by contrast extended notes almost dissolve piece in aimless duration. Neither romanatic sickness nor pangs of love or varitation thereof music back then prone to deliver.
    Episodes of vitality instruments talk to one another from different positions in tonal space while in extended phases of patience space shrink into single voice of breathing no voice but foundation of voicing apart from unrest of synthetic voice not resting on bed of breathing.
    Patience of strings remind of free reed wind instrument mouth organ, one set of notes when blowing and another when sucking, blow reed and draw reed allowing for uninterrupted continuity as of labored breathing. The harmonica first appeared in Vienna, where harmonicas with chambers were sold before 1824 tells Wikipedia. Beethoven died in 1827.



    Particular moment in Florentine art when the floor fact of foundation, united all visual arts early 1400s, Brunelleschi Donatello and Masaccio. Architect painter Brunelleschi maybe first out buildings built from the ground, his lost perspective paintings essentially depicting the ground as foundation of any geometrical construction. Two examples along those lines associated with Piero go back to Brunelleschi.

    Masaccio Holy Trinity Santa Croce in principle frameless, has to be, in order offer natural parameters for bipeds inspecting environment at eye-level.

    Donatello stability of stance, no matter of balance as in contrapposto, but powerful amble of Gattamelata.

    Legacy of this threesome reinterpreted by next generation Michelangelo, whose sense of gravity informed all three domains of his visual engagements. And, clearly recourse and reconnection to Florentine heritage in Caravaggio never forgot life tied to ground. Bad timing though since Italian Baroque machineries hovering in the sky about to take over.


    Sign said Waiting Room. Had they come do waiting proper? Watteau innovator of body language. At long last self-sufficient contrapposto gotten rid of as well as calling of attention of Roman orator retired gesture. See how little remains of Kritios or Aulus Metellus in figure of Gilles. But of course who would support Gilles at referendum?


    Not only Gattamelata horse but number of Donatello single figures restlessly pacing even in position of immobility. St.George and Habakuk stance of strong stride energy of unrest far from the contrapposto that Donatello reserved and articulated in the extreme case of David. Nothing restless about that boy.


    S-curve structurally foreign to tectonics of cathedral set her off from wall. Contrapposto of Erechteion caryatids could not have been traded for S-curve without producing impression of collapsing structure as if made of overcooked pasta. La vierge dorée Amiens.


    Bernini screwed column very non-Greek. True, columns in contrapposto do exist best known Erechteion porch. Asked those ladies could they carry entablature and they did with ease and composure still do. But screwed column laying around would no more be asked than some drunk reeling around on premises.


    Adaptation, information turned into character of figure in contrapposto or into character of weeping willow.


    'Plains language' language of the prarie from Robert Pirsig Lila p42. A straight head-on declarative language as fundamental to Pirsig quest into morals as Wittgenstein ethics of Tractatus, language Wittgenstein had in mind and Pirsig heard spoken through words of famous address delivered by Comanche Chief Ten Bears October 1867 at Medicine Lodge Treaty Conference.

    My heart is filled with joy when I see you here, as the brooks fill with water when the snow melts in the spring; and I feel glad, as the ponies do when the fresh grass starts in the beginning of the year. I heard of your coming when I was many sleeps away, and I made but a few camps when I met you. I know that you had come to do good to me and my people. I looked for benefits which would last forever, and so my face shines with joy as I look upon you. My people have never first drawn a bow or fired a gun against the whites. There has been trouble on the line between us and my young men have danced the war dance. But it was not begun by us. It was you to send the first soldier and we who sent out the second. Two years ago I came upon this road, following the buffalo, that my wives and children might have their cheeks plump and their bodies warm. But the soldiers fired on us, and since that time there has been a noise like that of a thunderstorm and we have not known which way to go. So it was upon the Canadian. Nor have we been made to cry alone. The blue dressed soldiers and the Utes came from out of the night when it was dark and still, and for camp fires they lit our lodges. Instead of hunting game they killed my braves, and the warriors of the tribe cut short their hair for the dead. So it was in Texas. They made sorrow come in our camps, and we went out like the buffalo bulls when the cows are attacked. When we found them, we killed them, and their scalps hang in our lodges. The Comanches are not weak and blind, like the pups of a dog when seven sleeps old. They are strong and farsighted, like grown horses. We took their road and we went on it. The white women cried and our women laughed.
    But there are things which you have said which I do not like. They were not sweet like sugar but bitter like gourds. You said that you wanted to put us upon reservation, to build our houses and make us medicine lodges. I do not want them. I was born on the prairie where the wind blew free and there was nothing to break the light of the sun. I was born where there were no inclosures [sic] and where everything drew a free breath. I want to die there and not within walls. I know every stream and every wood between the Rio Grande and the Arkansas. I have hunted and lived over the country. I lived like my fathers before me, and like them, I lived happily.
    When I was at Washington the Great Father told me that all the Comanche land was ours and that no one should hinder us in living upon it. So, why do you ask us to leave the rivers and the sun and the wind and live in houses? Do not ask us to give up the buffalo for the sheep. The young men have heard talk of this, and it has made them sad and angry. Do not speak of it more. I love to carry out the talk I got from the Great Father. When I get goods and presents I and my people feel glad, since it shows that he holds us in his eye.
    If the Texans had kept out of my country there might have been peace. But that which you now say we must live on is too small. The Texans have taken away the places where the grass grew the thickest and the timber was the best. Had we kept that we might have done the things you ask. But it is too late. The white man has the country which we loved, and we only wish to wander on the prairie until we die. Any good thing you say to me shall not be forgotten. I shall carry it as near to my heart as my children, and it shall be as often on my tongue as the name of the Great Father. I want no blood upon my land to stain the grass. I want it all clear and pure and I wish it so that all who go through among my people may find peace when they come in and leave it when they go out.



    Rembrandt positioned his model leaning on ledge or something, natural comfort. Like Hopper. Caravaggio precariously balanced on edge roulette of life.