Friday, February 27, 2009
Pedrito Infante Jr. Los Angeles California " Restaurant La Carreta" Jaime Renteria 310 613 97 97
En el mes de noviembre del 2002
en la Universidad del Sur de
California, rindieron merecido
tributo a Macarena Quiroz y al
grupo que componia la prestigiosa
revista "SOMOS". El siguiente dia,
la Sra. Quiroz fue invitada por la
directiva del Canal 62, para que
compartiera el segmento ,que el pro-
ductor del Canal 62 habia organizado.
Penelope Machaca,el doble Pedro In-
fante, Macarena Quiroz y el actor ,
cantante Pedrito Infante Jr.fueron
los componentes de uno de los mas
bellos programas de television hispa-
na que he visto. Despues de presentar
a los invitados , Macarena Quiroz de
preambulo explico el significado que
para sus admiradores y para el publico
en general habia sido Pedro Infante.
Detras de Macarena, continuo Pedrito
Infante Jr. Su testimonio hacia el
" idolo de Mexico" su papa, fue emotivo
y tierno. Pedrito Infante Jr, nos robo
el corazon. Hoy en un hospital de Los
Angeles, Pedrito se debate entre la vida
y la muerte. Pedrito, no es facil... vivir,
Pedrito,,,lucha,,,no nos dejes.
El proximo sabado 14 de Marzo en el
Restaurant " La Carreta" de la ciudad
de Lennox ser llevara a cabo una reu-
nion de amigos y admiradores de
Pedrito Infante. Estara presenten en
la madre de Pedro Infante Jr,quien via-
jara a Los Angeles, para asistir al evento.
Para informacion llamar a:
Don Jaime Renteria
310- 613 97 97
Thursday, February 26, 2009
El Panal Rumoroso o La Redencion de los Bribones by Bernard Mandeville
El Panal Rumoroso
o La Redencion de los Bribones
Parafrasis Libre de
Alfonso Reyes
1889 - 1959
Primera edicion en ingles : Londres 1705
Primera edicion en español
Parafrasos Libre de Alfonso Reyes
Mexico , 1957
Tirada de 1,000 ejemplares
Derechos reservados conforme la ley
@ Alfonso Reyes , Mexico 1957
Noticia
Bernard Mandeville o de Mandeville ( 1670 - 1733) , nativo
de Dordrecht ( Holanda ) , medico radicado en Londres,
incorporado a las letras inglesas, publica su satira en ocho
silabos, The Grumbling Hive, or Knaves turn`d Honest , en 1705.
La reedita con comentarios en prosa cada vez mas extensos, bajo
el titulo The Fable of the Bees, or Private Vices, Public Benefits,
en años sucesivos. Su objeto es mostrar la vileza irrducible de la
naturaleza humana , y el mal en que se funda necesariamente la
sociead , a la vez que alude a las cosas de la epoca . Eran los dias
en que los Tories acusaban a Marlborough y al Ministerio de abogar
por la guerra con Francia en vista de intereses particulares.
La satira de Mandeville provoco una controversia en que figuran
Willian Law ( Remarks on the Falbe of Bees, 1723 ), el Gran Jurado
de Middlesex y el papel acusatorio de " Theophilus Philo- Brirannus*
en el London Journal ( 1723) , Richard Fiddes ( General Treatise of
Morality, 1724), John Dennis ( Vice and Luxury Publick Mischiefs 1724)
tal vez George Bluet en ciertas reflexiones anonimas del 1725 , Archi0
bald Campbell ( Aretelogia 1728 ) Berkeley ( Alciphron or The Munute
Philosopher 1732,) ,Hervey ( Some Remarks on the Minute Philosopher,
1732 ) John Brown ( Essay upon Shaftesbury`s Characteristics ,1751 )
Adam Smith ( Theory of Moral Sentiments ,1759 ) Robert Browning
hace figurar a Mandeville en sus Parleyings with Certain People of
Importance in their Day ( 1887) : ...Sage deal long since, Bernard de
Mendeville!...
Mandeville representa una reaccion contra el optimismo filosofico,
algo beato, de Shaftesbury y los deistas, a la vez que se enfrenta
con las convenciones de la moral popular. Se acerca al punto de
vista de Hobbes, Helvetius y demas sistematicos del " egoismo serio",
prepara el camino a los utilitarios , y ha sido llamado Diogenes de la
filosofia inglesa. Sus paradojas nunca pudieron ser contestadas a fondo,
por lo mismo que nadie puede demostrar la perfeccion del ser humano.
La presente parafrasis ha sido hecha con la libertad indispensable para
dar sabor a nuestra lengua al estilo anticuado y algo plebeyo del autor.
A veces la libertad llega a la parodia. No pretende , en modo alguno , ser
una traduccion apegada. Las notas proceden de la edicion " The Fable of
the Bees: or , Privates Vices , Publick Benefirs, by Bernard Mandeville.
With a Commentary , Critical , Historical and Explanatory by F.B.Kaye
Oxford : At the Clarendon Press. MDCCCCXXIV, 2 vols.
El Panal Rumoroso Bernard Mandeville ( 1670 - 1733 ) born Dordrecht Holanda
Un panal de rica miel
y de prodiga colmena
era de la industria arena
y de las armas laurel.
Con mas regalo que aquel
ningun enjambre vivia:
ni tiranos padecia,
ni la democracia inquieta,
porque entre leyes sujeta
y afianza su monarquia.
Los racionales insectos,
humanidad abreviada,
de la toga y de la espada
disfrutaban los efectos,
Diminutos y perfectos,
vencian a los humanos
en los oficios urbanos,
y aunque hablando ignota lengua,
toda una ciudad sin mengua
edificaban sus manos.
Con arte menuda y alta
que no alcanzamos a ver,
solian ellos hacer
cuanto a nosotros nos falta.
Zumba el uno, el otro salta,
y hete aqui que, con paciencia,
alzan fabricas de ciencia,
torre , barco , muro y puente,
o al menos su equivalencia
aunque en orden diferente.
Pues vease que aun tenian
reyes y guardias reales:
si las cuentas son cabales,
dados no les faltarian.
Es claro que jugarian
alguna vez a los dados,
porqe nunca hubo soldados
horros de tan noble asueto,
y dan lo mismo al objeto
peones y coronados.
Apiñados en montones,
frutos doblados rendian,
pues millones proveian
la industria de otros millones,
que en vastas transmutaciones
devoran la obra manual,
solo para ver que tal
o cual sacie su apetito.
Y ante el empeño infinito,
poco era todo el panal.
Los pudientes , sin trabajos
alcanzan grandes provechos;
otros se rompen los pechos
en los menesteres bajos,
deshaciendose en andrajos
para merecel el pan.
Mientras los pocos, que dan
en pago su gatuperio,
chupan con otro misterio
la paciencia del gañan.
Tahures , ratas, fulleros,
adivinos , zurcidores
de voluntades, doctores
sin titulo, monederos
falsos , sin otros dineros
que su malicia y su tino
para vivir del cretino
que en ellos cifra su amor,
y medran con la labor
del benevolo vecino.1*
Bribones les llamaban; pero ? a cuales
si todos en el reino son iguales?
Si en todo trato hay su virtud secreta
y en toda profesion hay una treta?
Los letrados, sabias ruecas
de enmadejar pleitos vanos,
hilan con los escribanos
casos , trampas e hipotecas;
pues , sin proceso, son huecas
las mas justas pretenciones.
Lo propio hacen los ladrones:
estos rompen cerraduras;
aquellos , las hendeduras
de leyes y prescripciones.
?Que aumentan las audiencias ?
Punto en boca:
aumenta la ganancia , que era poca.
Mas que la ciencia o la cura
del caso que le concierna
el medico se gobierna
por ganar fama y hogura;
solemnidad, compostura,
del boticario el favor,
de la partera el loor,
la anuencia sacerdotal,
pues que parto y funeral
fundan su ingreso mayor.
Sonreir y saludar;
mucho halago que concili
la aficion de la familia;
paciencia para aguantar
lo que suele recetar
una tia majadera
que se mete a curandera;
segur la conversacion,
y la mayor maldicion:
! soportar a la niñera !
Por cada buen sacerdote,
flaco de estudio y pobreza,
hay ciento , cuya rudeza
es para la grey azote,
que engordan con el escote
del propio oficio divino,
tal como el sastre ladino
medra en la sisa del cliente;
mas duchos en aguardiente
que un viejo lobo marino.
Para el guerrero, el honor,
si logra salir con vida.
Lo mas , diestros en la huida,
ganan el premio mejor:
si aquel fia en el valor,
de estos el soborno es daga;
y hasta les doblan la paga
y comen de sus deslices;
y el otro, de cicatrices,
y que buena pro le haga.
El ministro es del monarca
avido pulpo insaciable,
que estira hasta lo improbable
los beneficios del arca:
en los provechos que embarca,
no en el publico servicio.
Esto es gaje del oficio
--ya se sabe ---y si hay comento,
se le llama emolumento,
que es la mascara del vicio.
Porque siempre la abeja fue maestra
en ganar mucho mas de lo que muestra,
y es imprudente dar con el talego
en las narices al que pierde el juego.
Y baste , como extremo de la usura,
que muchos adulteran la basura,
sin que nadie se libre de esta fiebre
que se suele llamar " gato por liebre"
La Justicia abre la venda
y arriesga un ojo al platillo,
por ver si hay algo amarillo
que decida la contienda.
Dejan que su sable hienda
cuando hay pena corporal,
mas si hay otro arreglo al mal
sera que el mal no es punible,
porque la horca es flexible*2
bajo el peso del metal.
Cada abeja , otro que tal,
pero el panal, un protento;
que aun los crimenes que cuento
engrandecel el panal.
Y envidiado por igual
en la paz como en la guerra,
su politica se encierra
en sumar vicios, de modo
que en virtud acabe todo,
y el mal , en bien de la tierra.
Tal la musica armonia,
de discordancias dechado;
que es un acorde el Estado
de tanta cacofonia.
Si todo se contraria,
es que todo se concierta.
La templanza es agua muerta,
gula y embriaguez revuelve,
y todo virtud se vuelve
al abrirse la compuerta.
Madre del mal, la avaricia
cunde en liberalidad,
pecado de dignidad
exento ya de malicia.
Si la lujuria desquicia,
a muchos da de comer.
El orgullo es sumiller
de la abundancia , y aumenta
de las industrias la cuenta
por loco que pueda ser.
La enviadia , la vanidad
y la moda , que hace el tercio,
son la rueda del comercio,
motor de su variedad;
y su mutabilidad
cura su mismo extravio,
pues al mes ya causa hastio
lo que antes era vehemencia,
de suerte que la prudencia
alcanza un triunfo tardio.
El tiempo en su curso grave
metamorfosea el vicio,
que va mudando su oficio
por otro oficio mas suave.
Y aprende, el que menos sabe
y menos tienen , a exigir
otro modo de vivir,
comodiad y regalo,
y el pobre , en corto intervalo,
es rico del provenir. 3*
Sombra de la humana ventura
junto al gozo celestial.
El melifero animal,
para lo poco que dura,
ignora que tiene hartura,
y debiera bendecir
lo que le dejan vivir
barcos, armas y gobiernos
que, entre lamentos eternos,
muda....! para reincidir !
Aquel que amaso tesoros
robando al procer y al paria,
todo el dia canta el aria
de los engaños y lloros.
? Que se queja , que desdoros
reclama el bribon ingrato?
! Que compro por liebre gato
en la tienda del guantero,
y obtuvo por su dinero
la horma de su zapato!
Todos clamaban a una :
"! No hay verguenza en el pais!"
Mas su vida era el mentis
de su queja inoportuna.
Cansose al fin la Fortuna,
y Jove, con ironia,
dijo : ! " Acabe la porfia!
! Fuera el fraude ! " Y al instante,
todo mudo de semblante
como de la noche al dia.
Huyo el fraude Entre pudores
la honradez entro en vigencia,
como el Arbol de la Ciencia,
desenmascarando errores.
Silencios, miedos, temblores,
contriciones y sonrojos.
!Duro camino de abrojos
para tales penitentes!
Rubor nublaba sus frentes
y se leia en sus ojos.
!Que cambio y consternacion!
A los abusos ! Que dique!
Bajo la carne un penique
para toda la nacion.
Ya no hay simulacion
ni cautelosas miradas;
almas recien estrenadas
dejan la barra vacia,
pues se pagan a porfia
aun las deudas olividadas.
Desde el monarca hasta el bobo
desnudanse la careta.
Ya no hay engaño ni treta,
ya no hay malicia ni robo.
Ya, privados del adobo,
se mustian los abogados,
y sus tinteros cansados
cuelgan con el cuerno seco,
porque ya no hay embeleco
donde todos son honrados.
? Justicia ? ! Si no hay ultraje!
Desierta esta la prision;
con su larga procesion
la Justicia emprende el viaje.
Alla van los del herraje
con sus rejas, sus candados,
sus picaportes chapados;
el que encarcela y remacha;
el verdugo con su hacha;
oficios hoy excusados.
Siguen los jueces, jinetes
en la nube que los guia;
su escolta en la policia
de gendermes y corchetes;
marchan detras en piquetes
cuantos viven de extorsiones;
y en las mas altas regiones
se ve volar a la Diosa,
cuya espada esta herrmbrosa
por falta de ejecuciones.
Del farmaceutico abuso
y de la disputa vana
libre ya , el fisico sana
con los remedios al uso
--pues naturalez puso
junto al quiste el emoliente--:
cobra su sueldo decente,
y sus ganancias calcula
sin el pienso de la mula
para visitar al cliente .
Purgado el clero de holganza,
y en numero ya prudente,
administraba al creyente
fe, caridad y esperanza.
Para mas la grey no alcanza,
pues, dulce de corazon,
nos ofrece complicacion
que multiplique el servicio:
todo es bondad , sacrificio,
paz, obediencia y perdon.
Y ajeno a los negocios del Estado,
hospitalario como limosnero,
Papa-Abejon vivia consagrado
al flaco , al triste , al pobre , al jornalero.
Los ministros y oficiales
viven ya de su salario;
no se admite intermediario
diestro en sobornos fiscales.
Los funcionairos reales
se redujeron del suyo,
y no hay uno solo cuyo
dictamen tuerza el derecho,
o pretenda cobrar pecho
entre lo mio y lo tuyo.
Ya es fraude la carestia,
y al mas activo le basta
la moderacion que gasta;
ya ni el mas necio se fia
de la torpe algarabia
de corredores traviesos.
!Vayan a otra parte esos
que, " por medrugos de pan",
coches y caballos dan
y fincas y otros excesos!
?A que mantener galeras
y compañias armadas
en regiones alejadas
y en hazañas extranjeras?
?Que orgullos, que borracheras,
que funestas vanidades
buscan gloria en las crueldades?
Solo es licita la guerra
cuando defienden la tierra,
derechos o libertades.
!Ay , pero , en este concierto
del comercio y la honradez,
el panal de antigua prez
se va quedando desierto!
Pues si el vicio a chorro abierto
despilfarraba millones,
alimentaba montones
que hoy se quedan sin oficio,
y echando menos el vicio
emigran a otras regiones.
!La propiedad despreciada,
abandonadas las glebas,
la maravilla cual Tebas
con musica edificada! 4*
La mas suntuosa morada,
lujo de sus moradores,
con carteles delatores
se ofrece al mejor postor.
Sobran artista y pintor,
pedreros y constructores.
Los escasos habitantes,
devotos de la templanza,
hoy luchan por la pitanza,
si por el dispendio antes;
pagan las cuentas restantes
que deben al tabernero,
y que los aspen primero
que vayan a reincidir;
y ya no pueden lucir
la hembra del vinatero.
Ya no hay quien preste fortunas
para Ortelans y Borgoñas,
porque ya no hay carantoñas
de algunos con sus algunas
que, en las noches oportunas,
y entre pavo y condimento,
consuman en un momento,
por fiestas de Navidad,
la discreta parvedad
que consume el regimiento
La altiva Cloe, que un dia,
para aumentar sus arreos,
hundio a la India en saqueos
y al marido en simonia,
hoy tan solo se atavia
con un vestido por año;
y procura con amaño
ir vendiendo su moblaje,
cuidando que se rebaje
el desperdicio de antaño.
Los trajes duran, porque ya no hay moda
desde que sobrevino aquella poda,
y el arte de enredar seda con plata
cambio de clima o estiro la pata.
Menos mal que todavia
cuentan con lo indispensable:
la pacotilla estimable
y el poder vivir al dia;
que, aunque sin jardineria
y en completa libertad,
con cierta benignidad
la tierra les da su fruto.
Eso si, todo es en bruto,
sin primor ni calidad.
Todos dan en emigrar
segun la virtud progresa:
mercader , fabrica , empresa,
toman el rumbo del mar.
Artes e industrias al par
caen de su antiguo estado,
que quien vive despojado
y se siente satisfecho
? que mejora , que provecho
ha de buscar el cuitado? 5*
Asi diezmado el panal,
pronto la extraña malicia
juzgo la ocasion propicia
para clavarle el puñal .
Y fue la guerra. Y fue tal
el precio de la victoria,
menos cierta que ilusoria,
que apenas pocos quedaban,
y esos pocos vacilaban
entre la ruina y la gloria.
Por el hambre endurecidos,
las armas y el sufrimiento,
abstenianse de intento
de majares y vestidos;
y huyendo lujos mentidos,
la comodidad dañina
y el goce que desatina
dando las gracias al cielo
se escondieron con recelo
en el hueco de una encina.
De aqui , lector , se concluye
que nunca un panal honrado
puede vivir regalado;
pues si sus vicios destruye,
rueda en la cima que huye;
si destierra la falsia,
solo es grande en la utopia
que le anda por la cabeza,
y poder, fama y grandeza
properan por otra via.
El orgullo , el fraude , el lujo
rinden beneficios ciertos
y resucitan los muertos
a su irresistible embrujo.
!Si hasta del hambre el influjo
fomenta la digestion ;
las mismas industrias son
efectos del artificio,
y es imposible sin vicio
edificar la nacion!
? Que seria de la viña
a si propia abandonada,
leña torcida y menguada
que a las palmas mueve riña?
Pero la tallan de niña,
la aderezan con esmero,
y es ganancia al vinatero,
inspiracion de pinceles,
sonrisa de los manteles
y delicia del garguero.
Porque , si bien se repara,la insobornable virtud
no es prenda de la salud,
auque la ayuda y prepara.
Hay que dar al alquitara
mezclas de esencia remota,
y solo entonces borbota
la soñada Edad de Oro,
libre de usar , sin desdoro,
la honradez ...y la bellota.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Andre Maurois << Last Words >> radio talk in France
This is a most solemn occasion, and a certain
paralysis overcomes one at the thought that,
in a quarter of an hour which is supposedly
one`s last and therefore momentous even if
imaginary , one has got to say important, vital
things,& to say them quickly . The best course
will be to plunge headlong into one`s own
mind, without too much reflection. The first
thoughts that one brings back will be the most
obvious ones and perhaps the sincerest.
I should like to say first of all that love has been
the great concern of my life. For. me, happi-
ness consists above all in a perfect understand-
ing with another human being , in whose pres-
ence one can at last lay down that armor of
constraint , of ready - made thoughts , that one
always has to wear in the company of other
people.
It is through love that I have understood eve-
rything: poetry, music, social life, history. I would
willingly saly with La Bruyere: <
more beautiful than that of a beautiful face , no
harmony sweeter than that of the loved one`s voice.>>
Only, when I was young , I identified every impulse
of desire with love and I believed that one could
pass from one love to the next without too much
suffering or harm. Life has taught me that it is not
so: that unfaithfulness inflicts great and needless
pain: that the penalty for unfaithfulness is lack
of trust and that without trust there is no real love.
So I have come , little by little , to accept the idea
of a single love in which each partner tells the other
everything. Of course this involves sacrifice: the
sacrifice what might have been to what is.
Without complete trust, there is no salvation
in love, and whoever has earned such trust will be
rewarded by a feeling of certainty of such great
sweetness that he will no longer regret his sacrifice,
real and exacting though it was.
I should like to say, too, that what is true of
love is no less so of friendship....
I have learnt, from my own experience of life
& from observing that of others , that violence
is not only horrible but, above all , futile. It can
only destroy , it is never constructive; it is only
permissible in self - defence. As for liberty, I would
rather not live than life without it , and I now know
that it can only be perserved by the methods that
have stood the test of centuries: the existence of a
respected opposition, the latter`s right to self-expre-
ssion, the separation of powers, trial by jury , in short
the whole body of institutions which we know as
the Rights of Man...
So much for one`s relations with others. I should
like to speak about something even more important:
one`s relations with oneself. The secret of happiness
consists in always acting in such a way that afterwards,
even up till one`s last quarter of an hour, one can feel at
peace with oneself. And how is this possible?
By ordering one`s behavior according to stable principles
& not according to perishable interests.
In this last quarter of an hour I am not disturbed by the
fear of eternity , for I have known eternity in moments
of total communion with reality.
A man who has done his best has nothing to fear.
Even if he has made mistakes concerning the consequences
of his actions, he can have made no mistake about their
motives. If these have been pure, he is saved. Some people
take the word in its theological sense, But I mean that he
is saved as a person. In either case the effect is the same:
he enjoys a wonderful serenity of mind. Thus , for men of
goodwill, the last minutes of life are full of an exalted sweetness.
150 copies printed for Alfred A. Knopf, in celebration of his
fifty years in book publishing.
The Greenwood Press, Palo Alto , California.
Excerpts taken from The London Magazine , May 1955.
Given as a radio talk in France under the title Le Dernier
Qart d` Heure. Translated from the French by Jean Stewart
March 1965
Homenaje en Mexico a Amalia Aguilar ( actriz y bailarina cubana)
En el prestigioso teatro Jorge Negrete
recinto fundado por el ANDA, la celebre
actriz cubana Amalia Aguilar , recibira
un merecido homenaje .
Comicos en Mexico by Conchita Bouza
Romualdo Tirado
Eusebio Pirrin " Don Catarino"
Joaquin Perdave
Antonio R. Frausto
Pepe Peña
Aurora Walker
Delia Magaña
" Valerita
Jorge "Che Reyes"
Manuel Medel
Eufrosina Garcia " La Flaca'
Carlos Lopez " Chaflan"
Leopoldo Ortin
Arturo Manrique " Panseco"
Luis G. Barreiro
Jesus Martinez " Palillo"
Florencio Castello
Diana Macklen " Rayito de Oro'
Angel Garasa
Conchita Gentil Arcos
Leopoldo Beristain
Armando La Marina " Chicote"
Amparito Arozameda
Polito Ortin
Enrique Herrera
Mapy Cortes
Paco Miller y " Don Roque"
Raul Guerrero " Chaplin"
Fanny Shiller
Consuelo Guerrero de Luna
Mario Moreno " Cantinflas"
Antonio Espino Mora " Clavillazo"
Adalberto Martinez Chavez " Resortes"
Famie Kauffman ' Vitola"
photo Foto " Tin Tan"
Para mas informacion favor de visitar el sitio
http://miguelangelmoralex-comicos.blogspot.com/2009/12/conde-boby.html
Vitola Miss Famie Kauffman ha muerto
La entrañable actriz del genero de la Comedia
Famie Kauffman ha muerto. Nacida en Toronto,
Canada .Vitola emigro a Cuba. Alli se nutrio de
humor cubano, que junto al de la cuna, creo un
personaje clasico. En Cuba nacio el dicho aquel,
"- Vitola , la que se defiende sola". Famie Kaufman,
tuvo la gran suerte de ser escogida , por el " Rey
de la Comedia Mexicana " el talentoso German Valdes,
conocidos con el nombre de " Tin Tan" , fue este quien
despues de verla actuar , le brindo la oportunidad de
compartir escenas en la exitosa pelicula " El Rey del
Barrio". El pasado 2008 , gracias a la directiva de
la Cinemateca de Los Angeles , pudimos realizar dos
sueños . El primero fue ver en pantalla gigante la pelicula
" El Rey del Barrio " y el segundo sueño ver la proyeccion en
el elegante y nostalgico teatro Million Dollar. Un grupo
de entusiastas admiradores de la recien fallecida actriz,
rindieron merecido homenaje el pasado 2008. Famie
Kauffman , adios.......
Monday, February 23, 2009
Frank Emilio Flynn Luyano composicion dedicada al Barrio
Luyano es una composicion inspirada
en una barriada de Cuba. Compuesta
por el maestro Frank Emilio Flynn
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Ernesto Montaner " El Pie" by Pura del Prado
Cuba que linda son
"El Pie"
Para Ernesto Montaner
? Donde estamos parados?
? En Flagler , en Neptuno , en no se donde?
? O es que estamos parados?
! Dime , anda !
Creo estamos asi,
entre parados y sentados,
apoyados en las misericordias del coro
y en nuestros infelices astragalos,
en nuestros vagabundo calcaneos
donde se insertan ! Ay ! nuestros Aguileos
tendones.
Y estan ya las tres cuñas y el cuboides
de toda esta cansada multitud
aprendiendo los giros de los trompos.
! Oh rdvsgoifrd extraviado !
! Oh los cinco metatarsianos que se fueron!
! Ay de las dos falanges
de este dedo , mi enorme trashumante!
! Ay de tarso politico !
!Ay de este calcañar tan trajinado
sufriendo en los caminos !
!Ay de este arco plantar
que no dispara ya ni una flechita!
!Ay de esta aponeurosis sin empleo !
! Ah de este dorso fino sin ocios !
! Ay base de los dedos sin el suelo
donde pueda apoyarse la alegria !
! Ay de los cuatros dedos pequeñitos ,
notagicos, moviendo su tristeza en el
zapato!
?Pero de que nos quejamos?
! Si a veces los llevamos a bailar!
! Como si aqui no hubiera pasado nada,
pero absolutamente nada!
El instinto , señores,
que busca sus olvidos , sus reposos,
su creerse que todo cambiara
por obra y gracia
del Espiritu Santo.
No nos vayamos a volver mas locos,
hay que tener mucho cuidado.
tus palmares...
Cuba que lindo son
"El Pie"
Para Ernesto Montaner
? Donde estamos parados?
? En Flagler , en Neptuno , en no se donde?
? O es que estamos parados?
! Dime , anda !
Creo estamos asi,
entre parados y sentados,
apoyados en las misericordias del coro
y en nuestros infelices astragalos,
en nuestros vagabundo calcaneos
donde se insertan ! Ay ! nuestros Aguileos
tendones.
Y estan ya las tres cuñas y el cuboides
de toda esta cansada multitud
aprendiendo los giros de los trompos.
! Oh rdvsgoifrd extraviado !
! Oh los cinco metatarsianos que se fueron!
! Ay de las dos falanges
de este dedo , mi enorme trashumante!
! Ay de tarso politico !
!Ay de este calcañar tan trajinado
sufriendo en los caminos !
!Ay de este arco plantar
que no dispara ya ni una flechita!
!Ay de esta aponeurosis sin empleo !
! Ah de este dorso fino sin ocios !
! Ay base de los dedos sin el suelo
donde pueda apoyarse la alegria !
! Ay de los cuatros dedos pequeñitos ,
notagicos, moviendo su tristeza en el
zapato!
?Pero de que nos quejamos?
! Si a veces los llevamos a bailar!
! Como si aqui no hubiera pasado nada,
pero absolutamente nada!
El instinto , señores,
que busca sus olvidos , sus reposos,
su creerse que todo cambiara
por obra y gracia
del Espiritu Santo.
No nos vayamos a volver mas locos,
hay que tener mucho cuidado.
Celia Cruz by Estorino Julio
CELIA CRUZ
Dicen que Santa Cecilia
mando a brunir las trompetas
y a los angeles les dijo
que estrenacen guayaberas
y prendieran mil candelas
para calentar los cueros
que tumbadoras eternas...
Los querubines mas viejos
se rascaban la cabeza
?Guiro y cencerro en el cielo?
y...ese son ...?que musica es esta?
San Pedro amarro sus llaves
con una cinta de seda
que era roja, azul y blanca
y abrio contento la puerta
mientras tarareaba un Gloria
de estrofas guantanameras.
...Alla en las nubes mas altas
la algarabia era inmensa...
Don Perucho Figueredo
presidia la palestra,
con el maestro , Lecuona
y Benni More a su diestra;
no faltaba ni un cubano
que a su paso por la tierra,
hubiese servido a Dios
sivierdo bien a su tierra,
y eran por miles las almas
que toda raza y creencia
que un dia fueron felices
oyendo cantar a Celia...
Esperaban su llegada...
! Ya viene la Guarachera !
En esa parte del cielo
que alumbran mas estrellas
donde viven los que viven
solamente en la leyenda,
el Yerberito Moderno
acariciaba sus yerbas
la ruda , la cana santa,
la albahaca, la yerba buena
y les decia ...! Ya viene,
ya viene la pregonera
que pregono por el mundo
que el amor vale la pena!
Llego la Virgen Maria
y los tres, Juanes con ella,
que venia de Cachita,
! de ninguna otra manera!
porque este dia , caramba,
la llena de gracia era
llena de gracia guajira
que es mezcla de gozo y pena..
...Cuba estaba en su mirada
humedecida y triguena.
De pronto...la compostura,
los susurros...se le acerca...
diez mil coros celestiales
afinaron sus cadencias
y fue un son toda la gloria
un son de palma y de ceiba...
un repicar de tambores,
una nueva Bayamesa...
!Llegaba gritando...Azucar...
llegaba a la gloria , Celia...
El Senor se hizo presente
-era la misma nobleza-
el Senor se hizo presente
y extendio su mano buena...
la bendijo ...le dio un beso...
le acaricio la cabeza...
" Ven , bendita de mi Padre
entra porque fuistes buena,
porque llevaste alegria
de Cuba a toda la Tierra"
.-Celia levanto los ojos,
humilde como ella era...
De Cuba yo quiero hablarte..
! rompe , Senor , sus cadenas!
que ya que yo no he podido
volver a sus playas bellas,
hasta aqui Senor , que el cielo
suba libre su bandera...
Senor ....! no puedo morirme,
mi corazon esta en ella !
El Senor se sonrio,
Cachita le hizo , una sena...
" ! Azucar " -dijo el Senor-
descansa ...descansa, Celia !
Julio Estorino Miami - Florida
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Kirk Douglas " Before I Forget"
La noticia del proyecto que el
actor Kirk Douglas presentara
para el publico de Los Angeles,
ha sido en momentos de caos
una grata noticia. " Before I Forget".
Culver City 213-628-27 72.Conocidos
por sus inolvidables actuaciones, en
"Out of the Past" ( 1947 ) "Champion"
( 1949) ," Youg Man a Horn " ( 1950)
"20,000 Leagues Under the Sea "(1954)
"Spartacus" (1960 ) . No pierdan esa
oportunidad.
actor Kirk Douglas presentara
para el publico de Los Angeles,
ha sido en momentos de caos
una grata noticia. " Before I Forget".
Culver City 213-628-27 72.Conocidos
por sus inolvidables actuaciones, en
"Out of the Past" ( 1947 ) "Champion"
( 1949) ," Youg Man a Horn " ( 1950)
"20,000 Leagues Under the Sea "(1954)
"Spartacus" (1960 ) . No pierdan esa
oportunidad.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Frank Domiguez Compositor Cubano - " San Valentin Day '
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Jose Soroa poeta cubano," GORKI " Domingo, agosto 31 2008
GORKI
Gorki dice sencillamente lo que piensa,
porque la verdad es siempre sencilla,
no precisa de palabras espumeantes
ni de similes que la adorne.
Gorki ama su guitarra , su retozno y las palomas.
Las palomas resisten las rejas en el cielo de su patria.
Su hija siente miedo al escuchar
voces desconocidas del otro lado de la puerta.
Por eo la guitarra de Gorki , de vez en cuando,
parece que llora y canta , canta y llora.
Los angeles que se ven poco,
bailan rock alrededor de Gorki.
Los angeles que se ven poco
toman de su vino y cuidan sus excesos.
Gorki y yo, tal vez jamas nos conozcamos,
sin embargo , ambos odiamos el cinismo,
la fase mas sofisticada de mantenerse
la maldad ingeniosa.
Gorki sueña con una isla similar a una guitarra.
Una guitarra en la que cuelguen muchas canciones.
Canciones que reemplacen los comites.
las reuniones obligadas y las consignas impuestas
A pesar del infortunio y las viles rejas.
El cantautor logra expresarse de forma analoga al sinsonte:
Gorki le niega el rutinario y pleonastico poder,
la prerrogativa de retener la eternidad
que palpita en las alas de su canto entre rejas.
Jose Soroa
Eduardo Michelson by Conchita Bouza
Eduardo Michelson prestigioso pintor cubano,*
es conocido entre sus amigos como pintor y *
coleccionista de libros. Amontonar libros , es tarea*
facil, coleccionar libros, no lo es . Coleccionar libros
es una ardua y dificil tarea . Implica casi siempre
conocimiento, diligencia y dinero.****
La primera vez que vi a Eduardo Michelson fue
en un autobus ( " guagua " ) habanero .Me acompa-
ñaba el polemico escritor infantil Omar " el Indio" .
Recien entrados al vehiculo, Omar lo saludo.Eduardo
le devolvio cortesmente el saludo. Discreta
mente me sente detras del asiento que Eduardo
ocupaba . Omar y el comenzaron hablar, cuando
de repente la charla cayo en mi,.En los diez minutos que
duro el viaje, hablamos de cine, de libros..Omar un po-
co molesto interumpio la amena charla , avizandome
que era mejor bajarnos antes, para ir a ...no se que
lugar. Me despedi de Eduardo con el pesar, de haber
abandonado algun tesoro. El viaje habia sido un poco
molesto para Eduardo , pues el tiempo que duro nues-
tra converzacion Michelson mantenia su cabeza vira-
da hacia nosotros. Al bajar, Eduardo grito a Omar , llevala
cuando puedas a la casa. Una sonriza discreta fue mi
respuesta. Al bajar , me di cuenta que Omar , habia
interrumpido la charla, por motivos que no pregunte.
continuara ...
A pesar del poco interes que Omar " El Indio" tenia en
que volviera a ver a Eduardo, logre ver a Eduardo nue-
vamente. En ese tiempo el trabajaba en el Museo Bellas
Artes de La Habana, su oficio era de restaudador. Entrar
al magico y tormentoso mundo de Michelsen , fue un
regalo del destino. Describir a Eduardo , no es tarea
facil....como hombre es apasionado, provocativo, salvaje..
A pesar de las presiones que siempre hubo de sufrir ...
su rebeldia lo acondicionaba a cercenar las inhibiciones.
Comenzamos a vernos casi a diario, usulmente yo lo
llamaba al trabajo...invitandolo a salir...su rutina era
diferente a la mia, por lo tanto hube de cambiar la mia.
Siempre he detestado los lugares cerrados, me gusta
estar a la interperie , sentarme frente al mar...caminar
por las calles...pero sentarme en la sala de una casa ..
en ese tiempo era un gran sacrificio para mi. Eduardo
es casero , naturalmente que no un casero mediocre..
Por El hube de hacer algunos cambios.....
La primera vez que visite a Eduardo.....
**
Antes de traspasar el umbral de la casa.
*********
Eduardo despues de trabajar usualmente llegaba
a su casa a las cinco de la tarde. Lo primero que
hacia al llegar era atender el jardin de su casa.
...............................................
....La casa carecia de patio por lo tanto
el portal habia sido transformado en
jardin , en el cual ,cientos de plantas convivian junto
el urbano vecindario del Vedado. La laboriosiad
e ingenio de su creador . El esfuerzo era titanico..
El portal , era como un "Jardin Botanico"
...hierbabuena, albahaca, perejil, manza-
nilla, margaritas, rosas, claveles...entre esas benignas
plantas ....habia una planta carnivora ........
una vez la vi devorar un mosquito.......
Memory and Reason of Diego Rivera by Lolo de la Torriente
Book of Infancy
Diego Rivera tells the story of his life. He remembers
with great clarity things happened during his infancy.
The boy has a great memory. His most vivid remem-
brace are visual or of the sensations . The house at
Pocitos , where he was born. His twin brothers Carlos.
His mother at the Cementerio Civil de Guanajuato. His
aunt Vicenta and his nursemaid , Antonia. He traveles
with Antonio to the mountains . The nursemaid teaches
him to speak , in Tarascan. How Antonia was and how the
house appeared to be. The woman that looked as if
she were of wood , The first painting that impressed him:
one of a blessed Christ, beneath two curtain , the sun and
the moon. " I remember that Christ so exactly that I could
make copies of him as if he were at the side of my horse.
That face fascinated me " . Antonia speaks to the boy.
The stars according to the story of Antonia. " i remember
the voice of Antonia when she spoke if these things that
I never will forget and that have forever fascinated me .
The goat and the fields . The voice of Antonia I have com-
pared to that off Tlaloc . The Popol Vuh his native philosophy
and the beliefs of Diego Rivera.
Joseph L. Mankiewicz Centenary
Joseph L. Mankiewicz products
Biography for
Joseph L. Mankiewicz More at IMDbPro »
advertisement
Date of Birth
11 February 1909, Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, USA
Date of Death
5 February 1993, Bedford, New York, USA (heart failure)
Birth Name
Joseph Leo Mankiewicz
Height
5' 10" (1.78 m)
Mini Biography
Born in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, on February 11, 1909, Joseph Leo Mankiewicz first worked for the movies as a translator of intertitles, employed by Paramount in Berlin, the UFA's American distributor at the time (1928). He became a dialoguist, then a screenwriter on numerous Paramount productions in Hollywood, most of them Jack Oakie vehicles. Still in his 20s, he produced first-class MGM films, including The Philadelphia Story (1940). Having left Metro after a dispute with studio chief Louis B. Mayer over Judy Garland, he then worked for Darryl F. Zanuck at 20th Century-Fox, producing The Keys of the Kingdom (1944), when Ernst Lubitsch's illness first brought him to the director's chair for Dragonwyck (1946). Mankiewicz directed 20 films in a 26-year period, successfully attempted every kind of movie from Shakespeare adaptation to western, from urban sociological drama to musical, from epic film with thousands of extras to a two-character picture. A Letter to Three Wives (1949) and All About Eve (1950) brought him wide recognition along with two Academy Awards for each as a writer and a director, seven years after his elder brother Herman J. Mankiewicz won Best Screenplay for Citizen Kane (1941). His more intimate films like The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (1947), The Barefoot Contessa (1954)--his only original screenplay--and The Honey Pot (1967) are major artistic achievements as well, showing Mankiewicz as a witty dialoguist, a master in the use of flashback and a talented actors' director (he favored English actors and had in Rex Harrison a kind of alter-ego on the screen).
IMDb Mini Biography By: Vincent Merlaud
Spouse
Rosemary Matthews (14 December 1962 - ?)
Rose Stradner (28 July 1939 - 27 September 1958) (her death) 2 children
Elizabeth Young (20 May 1934 - 20 May 1937) (divorced) 1 son
Trivia
Father of producer Christopher Mankiewicz, writer-director Tom Mankiewicz and of Alexandra Mankiewicz.
Brother of writer Herman J. Mankiewicz
Uncle of Don Mankiewicz and the late novelist Johanna Mankiewicz Davis.
President of the Screen Directors Guild. [1950-1951]
To date the only filmmaker to have won Oscars for writing and directing two years in a row. (2004)
Biography in: John Wakeman, editor. "World Film Directors, Volume One, 1890-1945". Pages 714-722. New York: The H.W. Wilson Company, 1987. Biography in: Cheryl Bray Lower & R. Barton Palmer, "Joseph L. Mankiewicz: Critical Studies and Guide to Resources with Annotated Bibliography and Filmography." Pages 5-23. Jefferson NY: McFarland & Co., 2001.
Granduncle of Timothy, Jesse, Antonia and Nick Davis (Johanna's children), John Mankiewicz (Don's son), Ben Mankiewicz and Josh Mankiewicz (Frank's sons).
Uncle of Frank Mankiewicz, noted writer and Democratic political strategist who once worked as Sen. Robert F. Kennedy's press secretary. Frank Mankiewicz serves as Vice Chairman of Hill & Knowlton Public Relations in Washington, DC.
Directed 12 different actors in Oscar-ominated performances: George Sanders, Anne Baxter, Bette Davis, Celeste Holm, Thelma Ritter, Marlon Brando, Edmond O'Brien, Katharine Hepburn, Elizabeth Taylor, Rex Harrison, Michael Caine and Laurence Olivier. Sanders and O'Brien won Oscars for their performances in one of Mankiewicz's movies.
Is portrayed by Victor Raider-Wexler in Liz: The Elizabeth Taylor Story (1995) (TV) and by Phillip Lye in The Mystery of Natalie Wood (2004) (TV)
Member of the jury at the Berlin International Film Festival in 1983
Suffered from a painful dermatological condition which caused his fingertips to split open. This ailment was often brought on by the stress of filmmaking, and he can be seen in many photographs wearing white film editor's gloves while directing.
Ernst Lubitsch was his cinematic idol.
Was awarded the Italian Order of Merit in 1965, in gratitude for his having made four movies in Italy. He was the first American to receive the honor.
Obliged as a disciplinary measure to write some episodes of the TV series "The Adventures of Rin Tin Tin" (1954), he wrote a script in which the dog behaved like a perfect coward and, instead of saving a boy from a fire, made him fall down into the flames.
Personal Quotes
I think it can be said fairly that I've been in on the beginning, rise, peak, collapse, and end of the talking picture.
I got a job at Metro and went to see Louis B. Mayer, who told me he wanted me to be a producer. I said I wanted to write and direct. He said, "No, you have to produce first, you have to crawl before you can walk". Which is as good a definition of producing as I ever heard.
There were always financial crises. Someone would come out from the east and announce that the business was in deep trouble, and what would happen was that they'd reduce the number of matzo balls in Louis B. Mayer's chicken soup from three to two. Then they'd fire a couple of secretaries and feel virtuous.
[on the birth of the famous line usually attributed to Spencer Tracy] I was walking into the commissary on the day Kate [Katharine Hepburn] and Spencer met for the first time in the corridor. Kate said, "I'm afraid I'm a little tall for you, Mr Tracy". I turned to her and said, "Don't worry, Kate, he'll soon cut you down to size".
The death of Hollywood is Mel Brooks and special effects. If Mel Brooks had come up in my day he wouldn't have qualified to be a busboy.
[at the premiere of Cleopatra (1963) after being asked how he felt now that the movie was finally in the can and about to have its first showing] I feel like the guillotine is about to drop.
[at the premier of Cleopatra (1963) when host Bert Parks called the film "a wonderful, wonderful achievement"] You must know something I don't.
(on Katharine Hepburn] The most experienced amateur actress in the world.
I am never quite sure whether I am one of the cinema's elder statesman or just the oldest whore on the beat.
I don't see why democracy should suddenly equalize literacy and illiteracy. I believe that people should have to qualify for voting privileges. Each person should have a vote, but some should count for more than others because some people know more than others and are better qualified to vote.
Every screenwriter worthy of the name has already directed his film when he has written his script.
I felt the urge to direct because I couldn't stomach what was being done with what I wrote.
Salary
Cleopatra (1963) $3,000,000
Recordando a Harry Elkins Widener by A. Edward Newton joven amante de los libros TITANIC
A word in Memory
To have been born and lived all his life in
Philadelphia , yet to be best known in London
and New York; to have been the eldest son of
a rich man and the eldest grandson of one of
the richest men in America, yet of so quiet and
retiring a disposition as to excite remark to have
but a few years out of college, yet to have achie-
ved distinction in a field which is commonly su-
pposed to be the browsing- place of age; to have
been relatively unknown in his life and to be
immortal in his death --such are the brief out-
lines of the career of Harry Elkins Widener.
It is a curious commentary upon human nature
that the death of one person well known to us
affects us more than the deaths of hundreds or
thousands not know to us at all. It is for this
reason, perhaps, at a time when the papers bring
us daily their record of human suffering and misery
from the war in Europe , that I can forget the news
of yesterday and live over again the anxious hours
which followed the brief announcement that the
Titanic , on her maiden voyage, the largest , finest
and fastest ship afloat, had struck an iceberg in
mid-ocean, and that there were grave fears for
the safety of her passengers and crew, There the
first news ceased.
The accident had occurred at midnight ; the sea
was perfectly calm, the stars shone clearly; it was
bitter cold. the ship was going at full speed. A slight
jar was felt, but the extent of the injury was not
realized and few passengers were alarmed. When
the order to lower the boats was given there was
little confusion. The order went round . " Women and
children first " Harry his father were lost , his mother
and her maid were rescued.
To have been born and lived all his life in
Philadelphia , yet to be best known in London
and New York; to have been the eldest son of
a rich man and the eldest grandson of one of
the richest men in America, yet of so quiet and
retiring a disposition as to excite remark to have
but a few years out of college, yet to have achie-
ved distinction in a field which is commonly su-
pposed to be the browsing- place of age; to have
been relatively unknown in his life and to be
immortal in his death --such are the brief out-
lines of the career of Harry Elkins Widener.
It is a curious commentary upon human nature
that the death of one person well known to us
affects us more than the deaths of hundreds or
thousands not know to us at all. It is for this
reason, perhaps, at a time when the papers bring
us daily their record of human suffering and misery
from the war in Europe , that I can forget the news
of yesterday and live over again the anxious hours
which followed the brief announcement that the
Titanic , on her maiden voyage, the largest , finest
and fastest ship afloat, had struck an iceberg in
mid-ocean, and that there were grave fears for
the safety of her passengers and crew, There the
first news ceased.
The accident had occurred at midnight ; the sea
was perfectly calm, the stars shone clearly; it was
bitter cold. the ship was going at full speed. A slight
jar was felt, but the extent of the injury was not
realized and few passengers were alarmed. When
the order to lower the boats was given there was
little confusion. The order went round . " Women and
children first " Harry his father were lost , his mother
and her maid were rescued.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Carmen Miranda
Carmen Miranda
from the film The Gang's All Here (1943)
Born Maria do Carmo Miranda da Cunha
February 9, 1909
Marco de Canaveses, Portugal
Died August 5, 1955 (aged 46)
Beverly Hills, California, U.S.
Other name(s) The Brazilian Bombshell
Years active 1928 – 1955
Spouse(s) David Sebastian
Maria do Carmo Miranda da Cunha GCIH, better known by the stage name Carmen Miranda (Portuguese pronunciation: [ˈkaɾme͂j miˈɾɐ͂dɐ]; February 9, 1909 – August 5, 1955) was a Portuguese-born Brazilian[1] samba singer and actress popular in the 1940s and 1950s.
Miranda was a Broadway star and by some accounts the highest-earning woman in the United States. She achieved stardom in motion pictures, cast in musical roles. Her iconic visual identity is a fruit hat based on costumes she wore in The Gang's All Here. She is considered the precursor of Brazil's Tropicalismo.
Contents [hide]
1 Early life
2 Career
2.1 Career difficulties
3 Death
4 Nationality
5 Tributes
6 Carmen Miranda Square
7 Filmography
8 References
9 External links
[edit]Early life
Carmen Miranda was born in Várzea da Ovelha, a village in the northern Portuguese municipality of Marco de Canaveses.[1] She was the second daughter of José Maria Pinto Cunha (1887 – 1938) and Maria Emília Miranda (1886 – 1971). Shortly after her birth, her father emigrated to Brazil and settled in Rio de Janeiro, where he opened a barber's shop. Her mother followed in 1910, together with her daughters Olinda and Carmo. Carmo never returned to Portugal, but retained her Portuguese nationality. In Brazil, her parents had four more children - Amaro (1911), Cecília (1913), Aurora (1915 – 2005) and Óscar (1916).[2]
Miranda was called Carmen by her father because of his love for the opera comique. Miranda went to school at the Convent of Saint Therese of Lisieux. Her father did not approve of her plans to enter show business. However, her mother supported her and was beaten when her husband discovered Carmen had auditioned for a radio show. Carmen had previously sung at parties and festivals in Rio. Her older sister Olinda contracted tuberculosis and was sent to Portugal for treatment. Miranda went to work in a tie shop at age 14 to help pay her sister's medical bills. She next worked in a boutique, where she learned to make hats and opened her own hat business which became profitable.
[edit]Career
Chegou a hora da fogueira
Carmen Miranda and Mário Reis, released in 1933
Alô... Alô?
Carmen Miranda and Mário Reis, released in 1934
Problems listening to these files? See media help.
Carmen Miranda as Chita Chula performing "Chico Chico" in 1946 Doll Face.
Before long, she was discovered and began singing on a local radio station. Ultimately, Miranda wound up with a recording contract with RCA Records. She pursued a career as a samba singer for ten years before she was invited to New York City to perform in a show on Broadway. By 1928, she was a genuine superstar in Brazil. As with other popular singers of the era, Miranda eventually made her way into the film world. She made her debut in the Brazilian documentary A Voz Do Carnaval (1933). Two years later, Miranda appeared in her first feature film entitled Alô, Alô Brasil. But it was the 1935 film Estudantes that seemed to solidify her in the minds of the movie-going public.
Miranda arrived in the United States in 1939 with her band, the Bando da Lua, and achieved stardom in the early 1940s. She was encouraged by the United States government in her American career as part of President Roosevelt’s Good Neighbor Policy, designed to strengthen links with Latin America and Europe; it was believed that in delivering content like hers, the policy would be better received by the American public. She was the country's highest-paid entertainer for several years in the 1940s, and in 1945, was the highest-paid woman in the United States, earning more than $200,000 that year, according to IRS records.
Against her parents' wishes, she married in March 17, 1947 to failed American movie producer David Sebastian. He soon declared himself to be her "manager" and was responsible for many bad business deals. A heavy drinker, he got Miranda into drinking as well and is accused of eventually being her downfall. In 1948 she became pregnant, but suffered a miscarriage after a show. The marriage only lasted a few months, but Carmen, who was Catholic, would not accept getting a divorce. Her sister Aurora later would state in the documentary Bananas is My Business that "he was very rude, many times even hit her. The marriage was a burden in her life; he only married her for her money. He did not like our family".[cite this quote]
Miranda made a total of fourteen Hollywood films between 1940 and 1953 and was dubbed "The Brazilian Bombshell".[3] Her Hollywood image was one of a generic Latinness that blurred the distinctions between Brazil, Argentina, and Mexico as well as between samba, tango and habanera. It was carefully stylized and outlandishly flamboyant. She was often shown wearing platform sandals and towering headdresses made of fruit, becoming famous as "the lady in the tutti-frutti hat."[4] However there were times that Miranda performed barefoot on stage due to the fact she could move more easily in bare feet than the towering platform sandals.
[edit]Career difficulties
During a visit to Brazil in 1940, Miranda was heavily criticized for giving in to American commercialism and projecting a false image of Brazil. She responded with the Portuguese language song "Disseram que Voltei Americanizada," or "They Say I've Come Back Americanized." Another song, "Bananas is My Business," was based on a line in one of her movies and directly addressed her image. She was greatly upset by the criticism and did not return to Brazil again for fourteen years.
After returning to the United States, Miranda made her final film appearance in the 1953 film Scared Stiff with Martin and Lewis.[5]
In the later years of her life, Miranda began taking amphetamines and barbiturates all of which took a toll on her body.[6]
[edit]Death
On August 4, 1955, Miranda suffered a heart attack during a segment of the live The Jimmy Durante Show, although she did not realize it at the time. After completing a dance number (which was later aired on A&E Network's Biography episode about Miranda), she unknowingly suffered a mild heart attack, and nearly collapsed. She quickly pulled herself together and finished the show. At the end of the broadcast, she smiled and waved, then exited the stage. She died later that night after suffering a second heart attack at her home.[7]
In accordance with her wishes, Miranda's body was flown back to Brazil where the Brazilian government declared a period of national mourning.[8] Despite the controversy surrounding her career in her adopted Brazil, more than a million Brazilians stood on the funeral procession's route to mourn her death.[9] She is buried in the Cemitério São João Batista in Rio de Janeiro.[10] Her funeral cortège, en route to the cemetery, was accompanied by about half a million people.
[edit]Nationality
Carmen Miranda was born in Portugal and moved to Brazil in childhood. Although she retained Portugese citizenship all her life, and never acquired Brazilian citizenship, nevertheless she declared herself to be "Brazilian by Body and Soul" and received numerous citizenship honours in Brazil.
[edit]Tributes
Carmen Miranda in The Gang's All Here (1943)
For her contribution to the motion picture industry, Carmen Miranda has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 6262 Hollywood Boulevard.
Helena Solberg made a documentary of her life, Carmen Miranda: Bananas is My Business in 1995.
Miranda's enormous, fruit-laden hats are iconic visuals recognized around the world. These costumes led to Saks Fifth Avenue developing a line of turbans and jewelry inspired by Carmen Miranda in 1939. [11] Many costume jewelry designers made fruit jewelry also inspired by Carmen Miranda which is still highly valued and collectible by vintage and antique costume jewelry collectors. Fruit jewelry is still popular in jewelry design today. Much of the fruit jewelry seen today is often still fondly called "Carmen Miranda jewelry" because of this. Her image was much satirized and taken up as camp, and today, the "Carmen Miranda" persona is popular among drag performers. The style was even emulated in animated cartoon shorts. The animation department at Warner Brothers seemed to be especially fond of the actress's image. Animator Virgil Ross used it in his short Slick Hare, featuring Bugs Bunny, who escapes from Elmer Fudd by hiding in the fruit hat. Bugsy himself mimics Miranda briefly in What's Cookin' Doc? Tex Avery also used it in his MGM short Magical Maestro when an opera singer is temporarily changed into the persona, fruit hat and all, via a magician's wand.
Brazilian singer Ney Matogrosso's album Batuque brings the period and several of Miranda's early hits back to life in faithful style. Caetano Veloso paid tribute to Miranda for her early samba recordings made in Rio when he recorded "Disseram que Voltei Americanizada" on the live album Circuladô Vivo in 1992. He also examined her iconic legacy of both kitsch and sincere samba artistry in an essay in the New York Times. Additionally, on one of Veloso's most popular songs, "Tropicalia", Veloso sings "Viva a banda da da da....Carmem Miranda da da da" as the final lyrics of the song. Singer/songwriter Jimmy Buffett included a tribute to Carmen Miranda on his 1973 album A White Sport Coat and a Pink Crustacean, entitled "They Don't Dance Like Carmen No More." In the early 1970s a novelty act known as Daddy Dewdrop had a top 10 hit single in the US titled "Chick-A-Boom," one of Carmen's trademark song phrases, although the resemblance ended there. The band Pink Martini recorded "Tempo perdido" for their Hey Eugene! Album on 2007.
Brazilian author Ruy Castro wrote a biography of Carmen Miranda entitled Carmen After Four Years of Interviews, published in 2005 in Brazil. This book has yet to appear in English.
Visitors to Rio de Janeiro can find a museum dedicated to Carmen Miranda in the Flamengo neighborhood on Avenida Rui Barbosa. The museum includes several original costumes, and shows clips from her filmography. There is also a museum dedicated to her in Marco de Canaveses, Portugal called "Museu Municipal Carmen Miranda", with various photos and one of the famous hats. Outside the museum there is a statue of Carmen Miranda.
A hot air balloon in her likeness was conceived in 1982 at the Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta by Jacques Soukup and Kirk Thomas. Named "Chic-I-Boom", the craft was built by Cameron England, and was the first special-shaped hot-air balloon ever to fly at the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta. The original Chic-I-Boom was retired from flight in 1996, and a new Chic-I-Boom was built by Aerostar. Chic-I-Boom's bananas are each 50 feet long.
The singer Leslie Fish created a song called "Carmen Miranda's Ghost is Haunting Space Station Three", in which a space station is inundated with fresh fruit. A science fiction anthology later had the same title.
John Cale, a member of the Velvet Underground, issued a song called "The Soul of Carmen Miranda" on his album Words for the Dying.
A suburb in Sydney, Australia called "Miranda" has a night club called "Carmens" thus being Carmens (in) Miranda.
[edit]Carmen Miranda Square
On September 25, 1998, a city square in Hollywood was named Carmen Miranda Square in a ceremony headed by longtime honorary mayor of Hollywood, Johnny Grant, who was also one of the singer's personal friends dating back to World War II. The effort was spearheaded by concert promoter Jean Chakanaka and Carmen Miranda's grandniece, Cheryl Cunha, herself a songwriter, singer and performer who adopted the stage name "Miranda" and performs many of her aunt's songs in tribute. Brazil's Consul General Jorió Gama was on hand for opening remarks, as were members of Bando da Lua, Carmen Miranda's original band.
Carmen Miranda Square is only one of about a dozen Los Angeles city intersections named for historic performers. The square is located at the intersection of Hollywood Boulevard and Orange Drive across from Grauman's Chinese Theater. The location is especially noteworthy not only since Carmen Miranda's footprints are preserved in concrete at the Chinese Theater's famous collection, but in remembrance of an impromptu performance at a nearby Hollywood Boulevard intersection on V-J Day where she was joined by a throng of servicemen from the nearby USO.
[edit]Filmography
The Portuguese Letters dedicated to Tara Domitro Terlebauca Dic 1930 - Dic 1972
These lines were first published in Paris
in the early days of 1669.Although the
letters themselves bore no names or date,
and made no comments about the person
involved, their success was immediate. Eve-
ryone was moved by their simple sincerity .
But who was the writer , whi ub ibe letter
called herself Marinana, claiming to be
a nun; and to whom were the letters addre-
ssed? Weeds grew wild over her grave in the
quiet chrchyard at Baja, long bedore her
story was unveiled to the world.
Shorty after its appearance in Paris , the
book waqs brought out in Holland in an
editor which named the man to whom the
letters were addressed , a French offer, Noel
Bouton, also known as Marquis de Chamllly.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Centenario del Manifiesto 1909 Filipo Tommaso Marinetti " Lo que el viento se llevo" by Alejandra Martinez --Mario Gallardo en Mexico
Pintura, escultura, grabado, fotografía y arte objeto son parte de las formas de expresión que muestran las diferentes interpretaciones de más de veinte artistas, miembros del Salón de la Plástica Mexicana (SPM), cuyas propuestas surgen a partir del tema Lo que el tiempo se llevó.
“La exposición tiene el propósito de motivar a los participantes a realizar trabajos basados en una frase que en esta ocasión es ‘Lo que el viento se llevo’, que fue tomada de una película que lleva el mismo nombre. Hay tantas cosas que han dejado de existir en nuestro alrededor tanto en lo personal como en lo social que las recordamos con añoranza. Los artistas que aquí exponen tomaron de sus vivencias lo que les pareció más adecuado al tema, por ello muchos de los cuadros hacen alusiones a experiencias personales.”
Lo anterior fue parte del discurso inaugural que pronunció Antonio Luque, coordinador general del Salón de la Plástica Mexicana, quien en compañía del maestro Sikuame, en representación del Consejo Directivo del SPM, realizó la declaratoria oficial de esta colectiva.
Mario Gallardo, autor de la pintura Lo que el tiempo no borró, homenaje a Marinetti, comenta en entrevista que “me considero un pintor neofuturista y este cuadro está dedicado al poeta italiano Marinetti, quien en 1909 escribió los fundamentos del manifiesto futurista; según tengo entendido en su época la locomotora de vapor era uno de los transportes más rápidos de su tiempo y algunos planteamientos de dicho manifiesto hacían alusión a la velocidad. Yo he retomado este ultimo y trato de representar que lo que el tiempo no borró es la existencia de esta máquina y el manifiesto futurista que dio lugar a muchos otros manifiestos”.
Por su parte el maestro John Mc. Ghee presenta una pintura de estilo realista titulada El hombre de Ahuatepec y al respecto comenta: ”El personaje que aparece en la pintura se llamaba Bartolo López Lascano y vivía en el mismo municipio en donde vivo, en un pueblo que se llama Ahuetepec. El señor tenía el mal de Parkinson y sólo podía andar por la calle gateando, con una especie de rodillera para protegerse. Pedía limosna en la plaza y en una ocasión hice este retrato; tiempo después encontré a uno de sus sobrinos y me dijo que su tío murió ahogado, así que en este caso lo que el tiempo se llevó fue a este hombre que plasmé en este cuadro.”
Motivos prehispánicos, colores ocres y verdes son parte de La Nación, pintura de José Gama González, quien realizó este cuadro pensando en la aparente muerte de la cultura que existe en nuestro país debido a los cambios mundiales que ha provocado la globalización, en donde predomina el dinero y el poder; sin embargo, este artista piensa que “aún tenemos culturas muy puras en México y, en este sentido, este cuadro es un poco irónico porque a pesar del contexto en el que estamos, existen todavía estas culturas que no han sido transformadas”.
La exposición Lo que el tiempo se llevó se exhibe en el Salón de la Plástica Mexicana de Colima 196, colonia Roma, y está conformada por obras de Alejandro Quijano, Enrique Ávila, Antonio Mendoza, Rodolfo Aguirre Tinoco, Gilberto Rodríguez, José Gama, Rosa María Alfonseca, David Flores, Sikuame, John Mc. Ghee, Hermenegildo Sosa, Carmen Castilleja, Romgo, Rafael Merino y diecisiete artistas má
Carmen Miranda 1909 2009
Carmen Miranda nace un nueve de febrero del 1909
aria do Carmo Miranda da Cunha GCIH, better known by the stage name Carmen Miranda (Portuguese pronunciation: [ˈkaɾme͂j miˈɾɐ͂dɐ]; February 9, 1909 – August 5, 1955) was a Portuguese-born[1] Brazilian samba singer and actress most popular in the 1940s and 1950s. Her family moved to Brazil shortly after her birth. Famous for promoting Brazil in her role as an entertainer, Miranda was a Broadway star, one of the highest-paid artists in Hollywood, and by some accounts the highest-earning woman in the United States. She achieved stardom in motion pictures, cast in musical roles and often wearing a hat topped with tropical fruit, most notably in The Gang's All Here, which has become her iconic visual identity. She is considered the precursor of Brazil's tropicalismo.
Feliz Centenario !!!
Monday, February 9, 2009
Mario Gallardo Pintor cubano Cinco de Marzo "En busca del Tiempo Perdido "
Siempre que llega Febrero, me viene a la memoria Mario Gallardo.
Febrero es el mes que antesede marzo. Es, en el mes de marzo ,
el cinco que Mario Gallardo celebra su cumpeaños. Por primera
vez logro, despues de casi veintiocho años volver , naturalmente
por fotografia ,ver a Mario.
Conoci a Mario Gallardo en los setenta. Mario tenia en
un pequeño estudio cerca de la Catedral de La Habana.
En aquel tiempo Gallardo trabajaba en los que antes habia sido el presti-
gioso " Diario de la Marina" , cambiado en los sesenta, con el
nombre de " Juventud Rebelde" . El trabajo de Mario Gallardo
era, el diseño de la pagina principal. Por largos años Gallardo ilustro
con magistral acierto ,imagenes de nuestros heroes nacionales.
Jose Marti, Carlos Manuel de Cespedes, Antonio Maceo, Maxi-
mo Gomez, Julio Antonio Mella entre otros. Tambien ilustraba
libros, revistas.
Cuando Gallardo terminaba su trabajo, usualmente iba
caminando hacia su estudio. Plumilla en mano, tinta negra china ,
cartulina y talento, eran las armas conque el contaba. En aquella epoca
Mario trabajaba en sus " Mares Profundo" . Sin testigos, sin admi-
radores, laboriosamente Gallardo iba enebrando las formas y matices
que años mas tarde conoceria el mundo. El arte de Mario Gallardo,
se debe " solamente a el " su extrema laboriosidad y a su ardua dici-
plina , formo el Mundo de Gallardo. Galardonado con la Medalla
de " Oro" del Gobierno de la India , Gallardo salio a la luz en su
propio pais. Nadie es profeta en su propia tierra, trepadores y
oficialistas casi siempre ursurpan el merecido espacio . En pasados
tiempos la mayoria de los pintores lograban llamar la atencion a
mecenas como Julio Lobo y a el ojo avizor de Gaston Baquero .
Gracias al " Premio " , Haydee Santamaria, hizo contacto
humano con Mario. Hoy despues de casi 28 años he tenido la
suerte de verlo en fotografia. En todos estos años, en ocaciones
brota en mi memoria el plasma de su figura. Lo recuerdo portando
aquel portafolio negro, caja fuerte de su obra y sus sueños o
caminado con un enorme cuadro ( zurcido ) hacia Bellas Artes
donde logro exponer su pintura , al lado de la obra erotica de Servando
Cabrera.
The Four Post-Modernizations
The Futurist Manifesto
F. T. Marinetti, 1909
We have been up all night, my friends and I, beneath mosque lamps whose brass cupolas are bright as our souls, because like them they were illuminated by the internal glow of electric hearts. And trampling underfoot our native sloth on opulent Persian carpets, we have been discussing right up to the limits of logic and scrawling the paper with demented writing.
Our hearts were filled with an immense pride at feeling ourselves standing quite alone, like lighthouses or like the sentinels in an outpost, facing the army of enemy stars encamped in their celestial bivouacs. Alone with the engineers in the infernal stokeholes of great ships, alone with the black spirits which rage in the belly of rogue locomotives, alone with the drunkards beating their wings against the walls.
Then we were suddenly distracted by the rumbling of huge double decker trams that went leaping by, streaked with light like the villages celebrating their festivals, which the Po in flood suddenly knocks down and uproots, and, in the rapids and eddies of a deluge, drags down to the sea.
Then the silence increased. As we listened to the last faint prayer of the old canal and the crumbling of the bones of the moribund palaces with their green growth of beard, suddenly the hungry automobiles roared beneath our windows.
`Come, my friends!' I said. `Let us go! At last Mythology and the mystic cult of the ideal have been left behind. We are going to be present at the birth of the centaur and we shall soon see the first angels fly! We must break down the gates of life to test the bolts and the padlocks! Let us go! Here is they very first sunrise on earth! Nothing equals the splendor of its red sword which strikes for the first time in our millennial darkness.'
We went up to the three snorting machines to caress their breasts. I lay along mine like a corpse on its bier, but I suddenly revived again beneath the steering wheel - a guillotine knife - which threatened my stomach. A great sweep of madness brought us sharply back to ourselves and drove us through the streets, steep and deep, like dried up torrents. Here and there unhappy lamps in the windows taught us to despise our mathematical eyes. `Smell,' I exclaimed, `smell is good enough for wild beasts!'
And we hunted, like young lions, death with its black fur dappled with pale crosses, who ran before us in the vast violet sky, palpable and living.
And yet we had no ideal Mistress stretching her form up to the clouds, nor yet a cruel Queen to whom to offer our corpses twisted into the shape of Byzantine rings! No reason to die unless it is the desire to be rid of the too great weight of our courage!
We drove on, crushing beneath our burning wheels, like shirt-collars under the iron, the watch dogs on the steps of the houses.
Death, tamed, went in front of me at each corner offering me his hand nicely, and sometimes lay on the ground with a noise of creaking jaws giving me velvet glances from the bottom of puddles.
`Let us leave good sense behind like a hideous husk and let us hurl ourselves, like fruit spiced with pride, into the immense mouth and breast of the world! Let us feed the unknown, not from despair, but simply to enrich the unfathomable reservoirs of the Absurd!'
As soon as I had said these words, I turned sharply back on my tracks with the mad intoxication of puppies biting their tails, and suddenly there were two cyclists disapproving of me and tottering in front of me like two persuasive but contradictory reasons. Their stupid swaying got in my way. What a bore! Pouah! I stopped short, and in disgust hurled myself - vlan! - head over heels in a ditch.
Oh, maternal ditch, half full of muddy water! A factory gutter! I savored a mouthful of strengthening muck which recalled the black teat of my Sudanese nurse!
As I raised my body, mud-spattered and smelly, I felt the red hot poker of joy deliciously pierce my heart. A crowd of fishermen and gouty naturalists crowded terrified around this marvel. With patient and tentative care they raised high enormous grappling irons to fish up my car, like a vast shark that had run aground. It rose slowly leaving in the ditch, like scales, its heavy coachwork of good sense and its upholstery of comfort.
We thought it was dead, my good shark, but I woke it with a single caress of its powerful back, and it was revived running as fast as it could on its fins.
Then with my face covered in good factory mud, covered with metal scratches, useless sweat and celestial grime, amidst the complaint of staid fishermen and angry naturalists, we dictated our first will and testament to all the living men on earth.
MANIFESTO OF FUTURISM
We want to sing the love of danger, the habit of energy and rashness.
The essential elements of our poetry will be courage, audacity and revolt.
Literature has up to now magnified pensive immobility, ecstasy and slumber. We want to exalt movements of aggression, feverish sleeplessness, the double march, the perilous leap, the slap and the blow with the fist.
We declare that the splendor of the world has been enriched by a new beauty: the beauty of speed. A racing automobile with its bonnet adorned with great tubes like serpents with explosive breath ... a roaring motor car which seems to run on machine-gun fire, is more beautiful than the Victory of Samothrace.
We want to sing the man at the wheel, the ideal axis of which crosses the earth, itself hurled along its orbit.
The poet must spend himself with warmth, glamour and prodigality to increase the enthusiastic fervor of the primordial elements.
Beauty exists only in struggle. There is no masterpiece that has not an aggressive character. Poetry must be a violent assault on the forces of the unknown, to force them to bow before man.
We are on the extreme promontory of the centuries! What is the use of looking behind at the moment when we must open the mysterious shutters of the impossible? Time and Space died yesterday. We are already living in the absolute, since we have already created eternal, omnipresent speed.
We want to glorify war - the only cure for the world - militarism, patriotism, the destructive gesture of the anarchists, the beautiful ideas which kill, and contempt for woman.
We want to demolish museums and libraries, fight morality, feminism and all opportunist and utilitarian cowardice.
We will sing of the great crowds agitated by work, pleasure and revolt; the multi-colored and polyphonic surf of revolutions in modern capitals: the nocturnal vibration of the arsenals and the workshops beneath their violent electric moons: the gluttonous railway stations devouring smoking serpents; factories suspended from the clouds by the thread of their smoke; bridges with the leap of gymnasts flung across the diabolic cutlery of sunny rivers: adventurous steamers sniffing the horizon; great-breasted locomotives, puffing on the rails like enormous steel horses with long tubes for bridle, and the gliding flight of aeroplanes whose propeller sounds like the flapping of a flag and the applause of enthusiastic crowds.
It is in Italy that we are issuing this manifesto of ruinous and incendiary violence, by which we today are founding Futurism, because we want to deliver Italy from its gangrene of professors, archaeologists, tourist guides and antiquaries.
Italy has been too long the great second-hand market. We want to get rid of the innumerable museums which cover it with innumerable cemeteries.
Museums, cemeteries! Truly identical in their sinister juxtaposition of bodies that do not know each other. Public dormitories where you sleep side by side for ever with beings you hate or do not know. Reciprocal ferocity of the painters and sculptors who murder each other in the same museum with blows of line and color. To make a visit once a year, as one goes to see the graves of our dead once a year, that we could allow! We can even imagine placing flowers once a year at the feet of the Gioconda! But to take our sadness, our fragile courage and our anxiety to the museum every day, that we cannot admit! Do you want to poison yourselves? Do you want to rot?
What can you find in an old picture except the painful contortions of the artist trying to break uncrossable barriers which obstruct the full expression of his dream?
To admire an old picture is to pour our sensibility into a funeral urn instead of casting it forward with violent spurts of creation and action. Do you want to waste the best part of your strength in a useless admiration of the past, from which you will emerge exhausted, diminished, trampled on?
Indeed daily visits to museums, libraries and academies (those cemeteries of wasted effort, calvaries of crucified dreams, registers of false starts!) is for artists what prolonged supervision by the parents is for intelligent young men, drunk with their own talent and ambition.
For the dying, for invalids and for prisoners it may be all right. It is, perhaps, some sort of balm for their wounds, the admirable past, at a moment when the future is denied them. But we will have none of it, we, the young, strong and living Futurists!
Let the good incendiaries with charred fingers come! Here they are! Heap up the fire to the shelves of the libraries! Divert the canals to flood the cellars of the museums! Let the glorious canvases swim ashore! Take the picks and hammers! Undermine the foundation of venerable towns!
The oldest among us are not yet thirty years old: we have therefore at least ten years to accomplish our task. When we are forty let younger and stronger men than we throw us in the waste paper basket like useless manuscripts! They will come against us from afar, leaping on the light cadence of their first poems, clutching the air with their predatory fingers and sniffing at the gates of the academies the good scent of our decaying spirits, already promised to the catacombs of the libraries.
But we shall not be there. They will find us at last one winter's night in the depths of the country in a sad hangar echoing with the notes of the monotonous rain, crouched near our trembling aeroplanes, warming our hands at the wretched fire which our books of today will make when they flame gaily beneath the glittering flight of their pictures.
They will crowd around us, panting with anguish and disappointment, and exasperated by our proud indefatigable courage, will hurl themselves forward to kill us, with all the more hatred as their hearts will be drunk with love and admiration for us. And strong healthy Injustice will shine radiantly from their eyes. For art can only be violence, cruelty, injustice.
The oldest among us are not yet thirty, and yet we have already wasted treasures, treasures of strength, love, courage and keen will, hastily, deliriously, without thinking, with all our might, till we are out of breath.
Look at us! We are not out of breath, our hearts are not in the least tired. For they are nourished by fire, hatred and speed! Does this surprise you? it is because you do not even remember being alive! Standing on the world's summit, we launch once more our challenge to the stars!
Your objections? All right! I know them! Of course! We know just what our beautiful false intelligence affirms: `We are only the sum and the prolongation of our ancestors,' it says. Perhaps! All right! What does it matter? But we will not listen! Take care not to repeat those infamous words! Instead, lift up your head!
Standing on the world's summit we launch once again our insolent challenge to the stars!
En aquel tiempo Gallardo trabajaba en los que antes habia sido el presti-
gioso " Diario de la Marina" , cambiado en los sesenta, con el
nombre de " Juventud Rebelde" . El trabajo de Mario Gallardo
era, el diseño de la pagina principal. Por largos años Gallardo ilustro
con magistral acierto ,imagenes de nuestros heroes nacionales.
Jose Marti, Carlos Manuel de Cespedes, Antonio Maceo, Maxi-
mo Gomez, Julio Antonio Mella entre otros. Tambien ilustraba
libros, revistas.
Cuando Gallardo terminaba su trabajo, usualmente iba
caminando hacia su estudio. Plumilla en mano, tinta negra china ,
cartulina y talento, eran las armas conque el contaba. En aquella epoca
Mario trabajaba en sus " Mares Profundo" . Sin testigos, sin admi-
radores, laboriosamente Gallardo iba enebrando las formas y matices
que años mas tarde conoceria el mundo. El arte de Mario Gallardo,
se debe " solamente a el " su extrema laboriosidad y a su ardua dici-
plina , formo el Mundo de Gallardo. Galardonado con la Medalla
de " Oro" del Gobierno de la India , Gallardo salio a la luz en su
propio pais. Nadie es profeta en su propia tierra, trepadores y
oficialistas casi siempre ursurpan el merecido espacio . En pasados
tiempos la mayoria de los pintores lograban llamar la atencion a
mecenas como Julio Lobo y a el ojo avizor de Gaston Baquero .
Gracias al " Premio " , Haydee Santamaria, hizo contacto
humano con Mario. Hoy despues de casi 28 años he tenido la
suerte de verlo en fotografia. En todos estos años, en ocaciones
brota en mi memoria el plasma de su figura. Lo recuerdo portando
aquel portafolio negro, caja fuerte de su obra y sus sueños o
caminado con un enorme cuadro ( zurcido ) hacia Bellas Artes
donde logro exponer su pintura , al lado de la obra erotica de Servando
Cabrera.
The Four Post-Modernizations
The Futurist Manifesto
F. T. Marinetti, 1909
We have been up all night, my friends and I, beneath mosque lamps whose brass cupolas are bright as our souls, because like them they were illuminated by the internal glow of electric hearts. And trampling underfoot our native sloth on opulent Persian carpets, we have been discussing right up to the limits of logic and scrawling the paper with demented writing.
Our hearts were filled with an immense pride at feeling ourselves standing quite alone, like lighthouses or like the sentinels in an outpost, facing the army of enemy stars encamped in their celestial bivouacs. Alone with the engineers in the infernal stokeholes of great ships, alone with the black spirits which rage in the belly of rogue locomotives, alone with the drunkards beating their wings against the walls.
Then we were suddenly distracted by the rumbling of huge double decker trams that went leaping by, streaked with light like the villages celebrating their festivals, which the Po in flood suddenly knocks down and uproots, and, in the rapids and eddies of a deluge, drags down to the sea.
Then the silence increased. As we listened to the last faint prayer of the old canal and the crumbling of the bones of the moribund palaces with their green growth of beard, suddenly the hungry automobiles roared beneath our windows.
`Come, my friends!' I said. `Let us go! At last Mythology and the mystic cult of the ideal have been left behind. We are going to be present at the birth of the centaur and we shall soon see the first angels fly! We must break down the gates of life to test the bolts and the padlocks! Let us go! Here is they very first sunrise on earth! Nothing equals the splendor of its red sword which strikes for the first time in our millennial darkness.'
We went up to the three snorting machines to caress their breasts. I lay along mine like a corpse on its bier, but I suddenly revived again beneath the steering wheel - a guillotine knife - which threatened my stomach. A great sweep of madness brought us sharply back to ourselves and drove us through the streets, steep and deep, like dried up torrents. Here and there unhappy lamps in the windows taught us to despise our mathematical eyes. `Smell,' I exclaimed, `smell is good enough for wild beasts!'
And we hunted, like young lions, death with its black fur dappled with pale crosses, who ran before us in the vast violet sky, palpable and living.
And yet we had no ideal Mistress stretching her form up to the clouds, nor yet a cruel Queen to whom to offer our corpses twisted into the shape of Byzantine rings! No reason to die unless it is the desire to be rid of the too great weight of our courage!
We drove on, crushing beneath our burning wheels, like shirt-collars under the iron, the watch dogs on the steps of the houses.
Death, tamed, went in front of me at each corner offering me his hand nicely, and sometimes lay on the ground with a noise of creaking jaws giving me velvet glances from the bottom of puddles.
`Let us leave good sense behind like a hideous husk and let us hurl ourselves, like fruit spiced with pride, into the immense mouth and breast of the world! Let us feed the unknown, not from despair, but simply to enrich the unfathomable reservoirs of the Absurd!'
As soon as I had said these words, I turned sharply back on my tracks with the mad intoxication of puppies biting their tails, and suddenly there were two cyclists disapproving of me and tottering in front of me like two persuasive but contradictory reasons. Their stupid swaying got in my way. What a bore! Pouah! I stopped short, and in disgust hurled myself - vlan! - head over heels in a ditch.
Oh, maternal ditch, half full of muddy water! A factory gutter! I savored a mouthful of strengthening muck which recalled the black teat of my Sudanese nurse!
As I raised my body, mud-spattered and smelly, I felt the red hot poker of joy deliciously pierce my heart. A crowd of fishermen and gouty naturalists crowded terrified around this marvel. With patient and tentative care they raised high enormous grappling irons to fish up my car, like a vast shark that had run aground. It rose slowly leaving in the ditch, like scales, its heavy coachwork of good sense and its upholstery of comfort.
We thought it was dead, my good shark, but I woke it with a single caress of its powerful back, and it was revived running as fast as it could on its fins.
Then with my face covered in good factory mud, covered with metal scratches, useless sweat and celestial grime, amidst the complaint of staid fishermen and angry naturalists, we dictated our first will and testament to all the living men on earth.
MANIFESTO OF FUTURISM
We want to sing the love of danger, the habit of energy and rashness.
The essential elements of our poetry will be courage, audacity and revolt.
Literature has up to now magnified pensive immobility, ecstasy and slumber. We want to exalt movements of aggression, feverish sleeplessness, the double march, the perilous leap, the slap and the blow with the fist.
We declare that the splendor of the world has been enriched by a new beauty: the beauty of speed. A racing automobile with its bonnet adorned with great tubes like serpents with explosive breath ... a roaring motor car which seems to run on machine-gun fire, is more beautiful than the Victory of Samothrace.
We want to sing the man at the wheel, the ideal axis of which crosses the earth, itself hurled along its orbit.
The poet must spend himself with warmth, glamour and prodigality to increase the enthusiastic fervor of the primordial elements.
Beauty exists only in struggle. There is no masterpiece that has not an aggressive character. Poetry must be a violent assault on the forces of the unknown, to force them to bow before man.
We are on the extreme promontory of the centuries! What is the use of looking behind at the moment when we must open the mysterious shutters of the impossible? Time and Space died yesterday. We are already living in the absolute, since we have already created eternal, omnipresent speed.
We want to glorify war - the only cure for the world - militarism, patriotism, the destructive gesture of the anarchists, the beautiful ideas which kill, and contempt for woman.
We want to demolish museums and libraries, fight morality, feminism and all opportunist and utilitarian cowardice.
We will sing of the great crowds agitated by work, pleasure and revolt; the multi-colored and polyphonic surf of revolutions in modern capitals: the nocturnal vibration of the arsenals and the workshops beneath their violent electric moons: the gluttonous railway stations devouring smoking serpents; factories suspended from the clouds by the thread of their smoke; bridges with the leap of gymnasts flung across the diabolic cutlery of sunny rivers: adventurous steamers sniffing the horizon; great-breasted locomotives, puffing on the rails like enormous steel horses with long tubes for bridle, and the gliding flight of aeroplanes whose propeller sounds like the flapping of a flag and the applause of enthusiastic crowds.
It is in Italy that we are issuing this manifesto of ruinous and incendiary violence, by which we today are founding Futurism, because we want to deliver Italy from its gangrene of professors, archaeologists, tourist guides and antiquaries.
Italy has been too long the great second-hand market. We want to get rid of the innumerable museums which cover it with innumerable cemeteries.
Museums, cemeteries! Truly identical in their sinister juxtaposition of bodies that do not know each other. Public dormitories where you sleep side by side for ever with beings you hate or do not know. Reciprocal ferocity of the painters and sculptors who murder each other in the same museum with blows of line and color. To make a visit once a year, as one goes to see the graves of our dead once a year, that we could allow! We can even imagine placing flowers once a year at the feet of the Gioconda! But to take our sadness, our fragile courage and our anxiety to the museum every day, that we cannot admit! Do you want to poison yourselves? Do you want to rot?
What can you find in an old picture except the painful contortions of the artist trying to break uncrossable barriers which obstruct the full expression of his dream?
To admire an old picture is to pour our sensibility into a funeral urn instead of casting it forward with violent spurts of creation and action. Do you want to waste the best part of your strength in a useless admiration of the past, from which you will emerge exhausted, diminished, trampled on?
Indeed daily visits to museums, libraries and academies (those cemeteries of wasted effort, calvaries of crucified dreams, registers of false starts!) is for artists what prolonged supervision by the parents is for intelligent young men, drunk with their own talent and ambition.
For the dying, for invalids and for prisoners it may be all right. It is, perhaps, some sort of balm for their wounds, the admirable past, at a moment when the future is denied them. But we will have none of it, we, the young, strong and living Futurists!
Let the good incendiaries with charred fingers come! Here they are! Heap up the fire to the shelves of the libraries! Divert the canals to flood the cellars of the museums! Let the glorious canvases swim ashore! Take the picks and hammers! Undermine the foundation of venerable towns!
The oldest among us are not yet thirty years old: we have therefore at least ten years to accomplish our task. When we are forty let younger and stronger men than we throw us in the waste paper basket like useless manuscripts! They will come against us from afar, leaping on the light cadence of their first poems, clutching the air with their predatory fingers and sniffing at the gates of the academies the good scent of our decaying spirits, already promised to the catacombs of the libraries.
But we shall not be there. They will find us at last one winter's night in the depths of the country in a sad hangar echoing with the notes of the monotonous rain, crouched near our trembling aeroplanes, warming our hands at the wretched fire which our books of today will make when they flame gaily beneath the glittering flight of their pictures.
They will crowd around us, panting with anguish and disappointment, and exasperated by our proud indefatigable courage, will hurl themselves forward to kill us, with all the more hatred as their hearts will be drunk with love and admiration for us. And strong healthy Injustice will shine radiantly from their eyes. For art can only be violence, cruelty, injustice.
The oldest among us are not yet thirty, and yet we have already wasted treasures, treasures of strength, love, courage and keen will, hastily, deliriously, without thinking, with all our might, till we are out of breath.
Look at us! We are not out of breath, our hearts are not in the least tired. For they are nourished by fire, hatred and speed! Does this surprise you? it is because you do not even remember being alive! Standing on the world's summit, we launch once more our challenge to the stars!
Your objections? All right! I know them! Of course! We know just what our beautiful false intelligence affirms: `We are only the sum and the prolongation of our ancestors,' it says. Perhaps! All right! What does it matter? But we will not listen! Take care not to repeat those infamous words! Instead, lift up your head!
Standing on the world's summit we launch once again our insolent challenge to the stars!
Catolico Cubano " Pedro Antonio Herrera Lopez " Don Pedrito" " by Maria del Carmen Muzio
En el Arzobispado de La Habana todos le llaman Don Pedro.
Sus primas le dicen Pedrito; algunos, Pedro Antonio ,y otros
muchos, simplemente Pedro. Sin embargo , Pedro Antonio
Herrera Lopez es un catolico con una divisa a lo largo de su
vida: sembrar con la palabra , regar con el ejemplo y esperar
del Señor el crecimiento en la fe
San Francisco de Asis decia que
" Fray Ejemplo" es el mejor predicador"
Entrevista
Como se autodefiniria usted , don Pedro?
Es dificil definirme a mi mismo, pues eso solo lo sabe
Dios y no importa como uno se mire o lo miren los
demas. Mi formacion religiosa se la debo, despues de
a Dios, a mis padres, catolicos practicantes. Mi padre
y mi abuelo paterno fueron terciarios carmelitas y mi
unico tio materno era terciario franciscano cuando los
hombre no asistian a las iglesias. Ademas , mi padre fue
fundador , en 1915 , de la Juventud Antoniana, despues
Asociacion de Jovenes Catolicos , la cual fue en la ciudad
de La Habana la antecesora de la Federacion de la Juven-
tud Catolica. En mi casa siempre se respiro un ambiente
eminentemente cristiano y puedo decir que , gracias a esa
formacion en mi familia , a la hora de las defecciones nin-
guno renego de la fe, porque habia una base solido a la
que que ayudo la formacion educativa en los Escolapios de
Guanabacoa.Digo esto , porque quiero hacer resaltar el valor
que tiene , para la formacion cristiana de los hijos , la
educacion y el ejemplo de los padres, de la familia cris-
tiana. ¥ añadiria que de los abuelos y tios.
- Naci en el actual municipio de Centro Habana , en
Belascoain entre Jesus Peregrino y Pocito , en 1926, y
soy el mayor de cuatro hermanos y una hermana. Mi
padre quiso venir a residir a Guanabacoa porque, aunque
el no fue alumno de las Escuelas Pias, si fue my amigo de
los padres escolapios Manuel Serra , Francisco Fabregas ,
Juan Borotau entre otros, lo que propicio que sus hijos
varones nos educaramos en sus aulas. Asi, en 1938 em-
pezamos a estudiar, primero en las aulas gratuitas que
dirigia el inolvidable padre Agustin Munfort y, posterior-
mente , con los alumnos que pagaban, auque siempre
pagabamos muy por debajo de la cuota establecida. Re-
cuerdese que eramos cuatro varones.
- Cuando en 1942 se abrio el Noviciado de los Escola-
pios fui de los primeros en ingresar. En 1946 me envia-
ron a España con el fin de estudiar filosofia y teologia
en las dos casas de formacion que entonces existian,
una en Irache , Navarra , y la otra en Albolda , Logroño,
lugares muy frios y humedos donde enferme de los pul-
mones , por cuya razon antes de terminar los estudios
me regresaron a Cuba, en 1950 , pues decian que no
tesistiria alli otro invierno mas.
- Le agradezco mucho a Dios , nuestro Señor , la edu-
cacion teologica que me proporciono , que junto con la
fromacion practica que tuve como dirigente de la Accion
Catolica , me ha permitido reorganizar la Adoracion Noc-
turna en Cuba, la que considero mi verdadera vocacion.
" En la casa de mi Padre hay muchas moradas" . dijo Cristo
a sus dicipulos. ( Jn.14,2)
Cual ha sido su quehacer como laico comprometido con
la iglesia ?
- De regreso a Cuba pedi salir de la orden Escolapia,
pues aun no estaba bien de salud. Esto fue en 1952 y hasta
1954 no me dieron de alta; no obstante , ese mismo año
en el mes de abril, ingrese en la Adoracion Nocturna en el
Turno que se fundo en la Parroquia Mayor de Guanabacoa,
y en agosto lo hice en la Unios 25 de la Asociacion de Caba-
lleros Catolicos de Cuba. Cuando se eleva a Seccion de Turno
de dicha villa, en 1956 , me eligieron como su primer presi-
dente y en los Caballeros Catolicos tambien ocupe cargos
directivos : tesorero , presidente, secretario de correspon-
dencia y director del boletin " Union" hasta que fue disuel-
ta la Accion Catolica en 1961 al igual la Adoracion Nocturna.
Este año ingrese en la Tercer Orden Franciscana en la Frater-
nidad de Guanabacoa.
- En los años dificiles que afronto nuestra Iglesia los catoli-
cos de la villa de Pepe Antonio tratamos de mantener abiertos
al culto los templos, y asi me hice cargo del cuidado de la ermita
del Potosi ,entonces bastante deteriorada, la cual es la iglesia mas
antigua de Cuba en uso, pues data su construccion de 1667.
Logre restaurarla, con la ayuda de fieles catolicos y de las auto-
ridades municipales, y en 1978 se abrio nuevamente al culto.
- En febrero de 1963 empece a trabajar en la Comision Nacional
de Monumentos ( adscrita al entonces Consejo Nacional de Cul-
turadespues Ministeriod de Cultura ) como tecnico de investigacion
historica. Aunque las relaciones con mis compañeros de trabajo
fueron inmejorables permaneci ciertamente relegado, pues nunca
oculte ni deje de manifestar mi condicion de catolico practico.
- Despues de jubilarme , nuestro Arzobispo me pidio en 1988 ,
que me diciese cargo del archivo del Arzobispado de la Habana
hasta que de nuevo enferme de los pulmones, situacion que ,
gracias a Dios, supere y despues, durante dos curso , umparti
clases de Panorama de la Cultura Cubana en el Seminario de
San Carlos y San Ambrosio, las cuales tuve que abandonar por
causa de mi enfermedad.
- Tambien en 1988 , por invitacion de Monseñor Angel Perez
Valera, a la sazon parroco del santuario de Nuestra Señora de
Regla, me cupo reorganizar la Adoracion Nocturna en Cuba.
En ese sentido , con otros nueve viejos adoradores, pedimos
al Arzobispo de La Habana su aprobacion, la que nos otorgo
de inmediato. En su Eminencia el Cardenal Jaime Ortega siem-
pre hemos encontrado un gran apoyo. El primero de junio de
dicho año se reorganizo la Adoracion Nocturna Cubana y en
1997 la seccion primera de Matanzas , fundada hace casi un
siglo , en 1901 . Este año se fundo la seccion de Guanabo.
- Creo que el Señor me fue preparando para la mision de res-
taurar la Adoracion Nocturna en nuestra patria, que no es
tarea facil . Hay muy poco amor a Jesus Sacramentado y, por
lo tanto , muy pocos deseos de sacrificar una noche al mes
para adorarle y alabarle.
Los momenos de mayor satisfaccion en su larga vida?
- Los momentos de gran satisfaccion han sido varios,
entre ellos la reapertura de la ermita de Potosi, la reorga-
nizacion de la Adoracion Nocturna en Cuba y de la seccion
primada de Matanzas y la inolvidable visita a nuestra patria
de su Santidad Juan Pablo II , durante la cual pude saludarlo.
Como aprecia el papel que puede desempeñar el laico en
la Cuba de hoy?
- Estoy convencido de que el papel del laico es sumamente
importante , sobre todo con el buen ejemplo, porque pode-
mos llegar a muchos lugares aunque parezca de inmediato
que no da fruto. San Francisco de Asis decia que " Fray Ejemplo
es el mejor predicador" , por lo cual, sin temores ni prejuicios,
debemos participar en la vida laboral y social de Cuba hasta
donde podamo. Aunque no reparemos en ello a veces, hay
quienes observan nuestro comportamiento y no precisamente
buscando nuestro mal. Mas vale un buen ejemplo que muchos
buenos discursos, los cuales despues destruimos con una mala
conducta. Esta manera de hacer mision todos la podemos y
debemos asumir . Sabemos , como catolicos , que la Fe viene de
Dios y a El la hemos de pedir con la oracion y el sacrificio.
" Ni el que siembra ni el que riega es nadie, sino el que da el
crecimiento que es Dios " ( 1 Cor, 3 , 7 )
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)