I would not upload these pictures if I had no dogs and I did not know too well this well-bred, sure in its portion, yet wistful look. In the center of the Galapagos Islands, on the fish market of Puerto Ayora everyone has his portion, people, seals, pelicans and dogs alike, in this order. Understandably, in one of the world’s most protected bioreserves they do not leave to stray cats to clear away fish heads and guts, such as in Italian fish markets. The division of labor and cooperation is really touching. Nobody elbows his way, no one employs racial discrimination, everyone waits for his turn.
Among the several photographers capturing the accident at Gare Montparnasse, Henri Roger-Viollet (1869-1946), with whose photo we started the previous post, was certainly the most renowned and most refined one. Born in a distinguished Paris family, he belonged together with his elder brother Ernest Roger among the age’s most prominent and prolific inventors. Their names were mentioned together with the Lumière and Nobel brothers, and Henri Roger – who also took up his wife’s name on his marriage – was a highly estimated astronomer as well. But photography was also among his many passions. Experimenting from the 1890s, he invented a number of procedures of trick photography, and until his death he tirelessly documented the life of Paris. His several thousand photos made with an attention to little details and small changes, and with a good humor, are now preserved in the Roger-Viollet photo agency founded in 1938 by his daughter Helène.
- Can you take photos?
- I can.
- And why do not you carry a camera?
- Because I have no camera – was the honest and clear answer.
- But if you had one, you would take pictures with it? – the sergeant asked.
- If my granny had wheels… – Švejk said simply, and calmly looked into the sergeant’s scanning eyes. The sergeant had just another twinge of pain in the head, so he could not figure out any question but this:
- Is it difficult to take photos of railway stations?
- It is easier than anything else – Švejk said –, because it does not move. The station always stands on its place, and you do not have to remind it that you want a friendly face…”
Verdemar… the lament of despair, cried over her dead body, over her dreamed-up but never real coming back. The 1943 tango of Di Sarli’s, with the letras by Contursi, is one most of the saddest and most heart-wrenching classic pieces of the Golden Age. Classic – and of the most mysterious ones at the same time.
Verdemar, the aqua green-blue tint of sea water, also known as turquoise, is a very unusual nickname for a girl. Was she for real? How did she die? The other unusual color in the verses, the yellow of her hands – is it a medical symptom, a clue of sorts? Jaundice?
El Señor del TangoCarlos Di Sarli, was also cruelly known as El Tuerto (the One-Eyed) in BsAs, where he was considered a yeta, a jynx by his contemporaries, for his dark sunglasses hid his surviving eye as well as the one lost to a childhood gun accident. Intriguingly, Verdemar is dedicated to his dear friend and a distinguished ophthalmologist, Dr. Ernesto Bernasconi Cramer… and the lyrics, as if speaking to an ophthalmologist, tell of pupils rather than the more usual “eyes”. Is it a clue to the true story? Could a white road taken by the searching spirit hint at a real Bahia Blanca (White Bay), Di Sarli’s hometown? We could never figure it out.
Orquesta Carlos Di Sarli, canta Roberto Rufino
Orquesta Carlos Di Sarli, canta Oscar Serpa
Orquesta Miguel Caló, canta Raúl Iriarte
Verdemar… Verdemar…
Se llenaron de silencio tus pupilas.
Te perdí, Verdemar.
Tus manos amarillas, tus labios sin color
y el frío de la noche sobre tu corazón.
Faltas tú, ya no estás,
se apagaron tus pupilas, Verdemar.
Te encontré sin pensarlo y alegré mis días,
olvidando la angustia de las horas mías.
Pero luego la vida se ensañó contigo
y en tus labios mis besos se morían de frío.
Y ahora… ¿qué rumbo tomaré?
Caminos sin aurora me pierden otra vez.
Volverás, Verdemar…
Es el alma que presiente tu retorno.
Llegarás, llegarás…
Por un camino blanco tu espíritu vendrá
Buscando mi cansancio y aquí me encontrarás.
Faltas tú… Ya no estás…
Se apagaron tus pupilas, Verdemar.
Turquoise… Verdemar
Oh, your eyes are overflowing with silence!
You are lost, Verdemar
Your hands have turned yellow, no color on your lips,
With cold of darkness creeping across your silent heart
You're gone, you're lost,
Light has faded from your pupils, Verdemar
I have met you, not thinking what joy it will bring me
I've forgotten the anguish of my waking hours
Why your fate so soon turned so ruthless and cruel !
On your lips, kiss of mine has been killed by the cold.
And now… What course will I follow?
Paths of eternal darkness will get me lost again
Don't leave, Verdemar!
Tis the soul which foretells your coming home.
Oh come back, please come back
Along the white light road, your spirit will return
To search for my despair, to find me at this point
But today you're gone,
Light has faded from your pupils, Verdemar
Verdemar… un lamento desesperado, llorado sobre su cadáver, sobre un regreso soñado pero nunca cumplido. El tango de Di Sarli, de 1943, con letra de Contursi, es uno de los clásicos más desgarrados de la Edad de Oro. Clásico, y también uno de los más misteriosos.
Verdemar, el tinte verde y azul del agua marina, el turquesa, es un apodo insólito para una chica. ¿Fue alguien real? ¿Cómo murió? El otro color extraño que hay en los versos, el amarillo de las manos, ¿es un síntoma médico, un juego de indicios? ¿Ictericia?
El Señor del Tango, Carlos Di Sarli, fue también cruelmente conocido como «El Tuerto» en Buenos Aires, donde sus contemporáneos lo consideraban un yeta (un gafe) por aquellas oscuras gafas de sol que ocultaban el ojo superviviente y la ausencia del otro, perdido en la infancia por un accidente con un arma de fuego. Curiosamente, Verdemar lo dedicó a su querido amigo, un distinguido oftalmólogo, el Dr. Ernesto Bernasconi Cramer… Y la letra, como si se dirigiera a un oculista, habla de «pupilas» en vez de unos más corrientes «ojos». ¿Es indicio de una historia verdadera? ¿Podría el camino blanco recorrido por este espíritu anhelante conducir hasta la real Bahía Blanca, ciudad natal de Di Sarli? Nunca pudimos averiguarlo.
Orquesta Carlos Di Sarli, canta Roberto Rufino
Orquesta Carlos Di Sarli, canta Oscar Serpa
Orquesta Miguel Caló, canta Raúl Iriarte
Verdemar… Verdemar…
Se llenaron de silencio tus pupilas.
Te perdí, Verdemar.
Tus manos amarillas, tus labios sin color
y el frío de la noche sobre tu corazón.
Faltas tú, ya no estás,
se apagaron tus pupilas, Verdemar.
Te encontré sin pensarlo y alegré mis días,
olvidando la angustia de las horas mías.
Pero luego la vida se ensañó contigo
y en tus labios mis besos se morían de frío.
Y ahora… ¿qué rumbo tomaré?
Caminos sin aurora me pierden otra vez.
Volverás, Verdemar…
Es el alma que presiente tu retorno.
Llegarás, llegarás…
Por un camino blanco tu espíritu vendrá
Buscando mi cansancio y aquí me encontrarás.
Faltas tú… Ya no estás…
Se apagaron tus pupilas, Verdemar.
Вердемар… плач отчаяния над ее телом, несбыточной мечты об ее возвращении. Это классическое танго, созданное в 1943-м году Ди Сарли на слова Контурси, является, может быть, самым печальным произведением Золотого Века Аргентинского танго. Классическое - но в то же время и глубоко загадочное.
Вердемар – это цвет морской волны, аквамарин… но это совершенно необычное имя для девушки. Существовала ли она в реальности? Как она погибла? Есть и другой необычный цвет в этих стихах, желтый оттенок ее рук… может ли это быть медицинским симптомом, и ключом к отгадке?
Эль Сеньор дель ТангоКарлос ди Сарли, был также известен современникам под грубой кличкой Эль Туэрто (Кривой). В БсАс считалось, что и он, и даже само его имя - жета (сглаз), наверное, из-за темных очков, постоянно закрывающих его здоровый глаз, вместе с глазом, поврежденным в детстве в несчастном случае в оружейной мастерской его отца. Интересная деталь: танго Вердемар посвящается его дорогому другу и выдающемуся офтальмологу, доктору Эрнесто Бернаскони Крамеру… и испанский текст постоянно говорит о зрачках, а не просто о “глазах”, как будто принимая профессиональную точку зрения офтальмолога. Может ли тут скрываться ключ к тайне Вердемар?
И третий цвет этого танго, белый цвет дороги ищущей души - может ли тут быть связь с Белым Заливом, Байя Бланка, родным городом Ди Сарли? Сможем ли мы когда-нибудь разобраться?
Orquesta Carlos Di Sarli, canta Roberto Rufino
Orquesta Carlos Di Sarli, canta Oscar Serpa
Orquesta Miguel Caló, canta Raúl Iriarte
Verdemar… Verdemar…
Se llenaron de silencio tus pupilas.
Te perdí, Verdemar.
Tus manos amarillas, tus labios sin color
y el frío de la noche sobre tu corazón.
Faltas tú, ya no estás,
se apagaron tus pupilas, Verdemar.
Te encontré sin pensarlo y alegré mis días,
olvidando la angustia de las horas mías.
Pero luego la vida se ensañó contigo
y en tus labios mis besos se morían de frío.
Y ahora… ¿qué rumbo tomaré?
Caminos sin aurora me pierden otra vez.
Volverás, Verdemar…
Es el alma que presiente tu retorno.
Llegarás, llegarás…
Por un camino blanco tu espíritu vendrá
Buscando mi cansancio y aquí me encontrarás.
Faltas tú… Ya no estás…
Se apagaron tus pupilas, Verdemar.
Цвет волны… Вердемар…
Твои очи переполнены молчаньем
Ты не здесь, Вердемар!
Как воск, желтеют руки, нет цвета на губах,
Ночной мороз разлуки на сердце у тебя
Нет тебя, не найти,
И угасли
Твои очи,
Вердемар!
Наша встреча случайно
Мне дни озарила
И забылось отчаянье
И тьма отступила
Слишком скоро судьба нам
Злую долю сулила
Поцелуй на губах мой
Смертной стужей убило
А ныне… Куда я направлюсь
Дорогой беспросветной, потерянный опять?
О, вернись, Вердемар…
Возвращенье я предчувствую душою
Ты придешь, ты придешь!
Твоя душа дорогой из белого огня
Пойдет искать в тревоге, в отчаяньи меня
Но сейчас ты ушла,
И угасли
Твои очи,
Вердемар
Drawing by convict Osip Nussbaum, 18 year old, professional artist. Convicted of embezzlement and forgery
Lenin in the Czarist court. Drawing by convict Andrei Evdokimov, 34 year old, former court’s clerk. Convicted of murdering his wife
Drawing by convict P. Mikhailenko, 28 year old, peasant. Convicted for 5 years of murder committed for profit.
Lenin in the prison. Drawing by convict Konyukhov
Lenin abolishing the prisons. Drawing by convict Mark Larionov, 27 year old. Convicted of four counts of theft, for the last time of two years of prison. A turner by profession
Lenin takes the handcuffs off the prisoners’ hands. Drawing by convict Mark Larionov (see above)
The instructive drawings which saw in the leader of the Soviet people their fellow sufferer and accomplice on the one hand, and prospective liberator on the other hand, have been cited by Lobgott Pipzam from the 1925 volume of the journal Суд идет!, “Court is in session”. More precisely, this publication was the literary supplement of the prestigious journal Народный суд, “People’s Court” in the 1920s, until at an uncertain date it was omitted from it forever. The reason of its abolition is unclear, but perhaps similar articles regularly balancing on the edge between seriousness and absurdity played their role in it, including the forensic reports published every week with a poker face by Mikhail Zoshchenko, the master of Russian satire and black humor which, although describing real cases, by way of their presentation were capable of undermining the prestige of the body.
Fathers and sons
In the People’s Court in Bogorodsk recently ended the proceedings on the suit presented by Citizeness Myasnaya against factory worker Smolyakov. Citizeness Myasnaya considered Smolyakov the father of her child, and required of him child support. As a proof, she produced ten witnesses. Nevertheless, Worker Smolyakov did not recognize his paternity. “True”, he says, “I have indeed lived together with this citizeness. But the kid does not look like me. Look at his little nose which is so different from mine, and his little face is much more similar to Witness Milovanov, over there.” Witness Milovanov, butcher and merchant is flailing as a sign of protest, and he does not recognize his paternity either. But one of the witnesses says before the court: “We cannot know who the father of the child is. But we only saw the merchant with the citizeness in the nettle.” The merchant flails again to protest. Thus, two fathers of the same child are standing before the Court. The case becomes cloudy. Finally, the Court delivers a Salomon’s judgment. In the 236th issue of the Bogorodsk newspaper “The Worker’s Voice” the following judgment is published: “We oblige Citizen Milovanov to pay monthly 15 rubels. We declare Citizen Smolyakov as his accomplice, but as a worker, we acquit him of paying until the change of merchant Milovanov’s social status.” The judgment is fair and acute. But why was it necessary to stigmatize the child in this way? For he was classified as originating from the merchants’ class. What can he do like this when he grows up? They should have at least registered the name of the accomplice-father in the birth extract.”
Nowadays the true intentions cannot be defined any more. For it was precisely in the 1920s that the popular graphics seeking its new place and voice produced so many items of Lenin’s cult which today work absolutely well as satirical works.
“Our Statue of Liberty Plan. In our humble hope all the health-minded proletariat of America will contribute to its realization.” From the 1924 volume of the journal Смехач
On the Kremlin which you will never see any more, because it was systematically destroyed in the 1930s together with a great part of old Moscow, you can create a picture for yourself on the basis of the photos of the last Tsar’s coronation ceremony in 1896, and soon we will also dedicate a summary post to the history of its architecture. But the walls of the Kremlin which are still standing you cannot see such as in the pictures below for two reasons. First, because it is Ilya Varlamov who lends you his objective to see, which is one of the best in Russia today, of course if his eye is also behind it. And second, because he shot this series for Трибуна Общественной Палаты, the portal of the Public Chamber, the official monitoring and advisory body of the Russian parliament and government, so it is understandable that he got entry and shooting permits to places which remain forever inaccessible to ordinary mortals. He writes about this:
This was one of my most difficult shootings. Its preparation required a full month: I had to obtain a lot of signatures, compile a list of locations to shoot, to have dozens of permits. I almost forgot about it, when I was suddenly informed that I got the license. Thanks for the support and the harmonizing to the Public Chamber! The wish list of locations was badly cut: I was not allowed to shoot from the roof or take photos on certain towers, but most importantly, I was allowed to take photos of all the walls of the Kremlin. An old dream came true when I was able to walk on these walls and to climb on the inaccessible towers. In this first part of the series I present you the walls and the views opening from the walls.
We present this photo series of historic importance just a few hours after the first Russian publication. Many of the buildings and vistas are familiar, nevertheless unusual are the constellations, the details, the “back yards” of the well known buildings. This series does not seek to present the accurate topography and architectural structure of the Kremlin, but primarily intends to convey the atmosphere of the walls and the scenes opening from them. We, however, will attempt to locate these views on the map when the second part of the series presenting the buildings within the walls will also come to light, which we will also publish here.
I would not upload these pictures if I had no dogs and I did not know too well this well-bred, sure in its portion, yet wistful look. In the center of the Galapagos Islands, on the fish market of Puerto Ayora everyone has his portion, people, seals, pelicans and dogs alike, in this order. Understandably, in one of the world’s most protected bioreserves they do not leave to stray cats to clear away fish heads and guts, such as in Italian fish markets. The division of labor and cooperation is really touching. Nobody elbows his way, no one employs racial discrimination, everyone waits for his turn.
Verdemar… the lament of despair, cried over her dead body, over her dreamed-up but never real coming back. The 1943 tango of Di Sarli’s, with the letras by Contursi, is one most of the saddest and most heart-wrenching classic pieces of the Golden Age. Classic – and of the most mysterious ones at the same time.
Verdemar… un lamento desesperado, llorado sobre su cadáver, sobre un regreso soñado pero nunca cumplido. El tango de Di Sarli, de 1943, con letra de Contursi, es uno de los clásicos más desgarrados de la Edad de Oro. Clásico, y también uno de los más misteriosos.
Вердемар… плач отчаяния над ее телом, несбыточной мечты об ее возвращении. Это классическое танго, созданное в 1943-м году Ди Сарли на слова Контурси, является, может быть, самым печальным произведением Золотого Века Аргентинского танго. Классическое - но в то же время и глубоко загадочное.
