Showing posts with label anima. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anima. Show all posts

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Louisa's Dress: a dream journey


reprinted from January 22, 2009 with new photographs





The dream Louisa's Dress, that I am relaying was experienced several years ago as a theater performance. I awoke sitting up in bed clapping after the final scene. I had a notebook on a little table near my bedside and wrote the dream text down as it is written here. About ten years later I pulled the little journal out to read and carried it around for some days in a black book bag. I left this bag on the SF BART line, and was heartbroken that I had lost the only copy that I had of it. Miraculously, the book bag was discovered by a psychologist who realized the importance of the manuscript and who went to some effort to return it to me. So unbelievable as it was, the dream that was given was lost and then restored. I have for years pondered the meaning of this dream and found that threads or texts and subtexts emerge and then disappear into passing years. At various stages of understanding I became each character in the dream theater. I have a lengthy interpretations but the symbols and the dance of the dream itself, make evident it's mythic and psychological meaning.





Scene 1: Louisa encounters a fortune teller in a train station.

I am in a train station in New York City rushing towards a train on a platform beneath me. As I descend concrete steps and pass my walls covered with grafitti, I see an old gypsy woman grasping the hands of people who pass by and read palms. As I pass by the gypsy takes my hand and looks deeply into my eyes as she speaks. "I see Cybele and a witch daughter named Rose." I feel sorrow as she says this. "Tell me more about Cybele, " I implore her. At first she hesitates and then finally she speaks, "I see years and years of sorrow." I blink tears away and pay her. Other passengers are watching us. "Isn't that amazing," someone in the crowd says," she paid the gypsy." As I walk down steps onto the train platform I think, "I must embrace sorrow, keep company with death." "The journey before me into my sleeping selfhood stretches endlessly; a long tunnel of darkness."




Scene 2: A blind man restores the light for those who see

As I enter the train platform all of the lights go out and everyone is alarmed. Suddenly the light is restored. A blind man has repaired a problem in the light system. The man gives a short speech, "in my blindness I am able to see more than most. In the many crevices of darkness I have come to know intimately the mechanism of light and find restoring your vision a simple matter." The many people on the platform clap and throw their stamped train tickets into the air as the train pulls into Grand Central Station through the mirage. I get onto the train.




Scene 3: Louisa searches for her mother's house

Pushing my way through the crowd I make my way outside into the cold gray drizzle of late October twilight in Greenwich Village. I am cold and I walk a long distance looking for my mother's house. -Not to visit my mother but my older sister who has summoned me home for a matter of importance.

As I journey towards my mother's house my dress takes on provocative and unique form. I walk along the cobblestone streets of the West Village. the eyes and reflections of people I see make me aware I am wearing a unique dress. Suddenly, my sister drives up in front of me in a white sports car. My mother is with her. "What is mother doing here" I ask? "I've never seen her before and I don't want to see her now." You didn't mention her bore." "Don't be troublesome," my sister replies, "just get in for she wants to see you. My mother is an elegant matron with ash blonde hair and is conservatively dressed. My mother and sister stare disdainfully at me, disapproving of my dress and velvet shoes with ribbons which tie around my ankles. I get into the car and return with them to my mothers's house; a town house in the Village. Her windows are covered with thick drapes.




Scene 4: A bewitching dress of thin white baptiste

I am dressed in a delicate white dress of French batiste. My mother and are speaking together in a dressing room filled with racks of conventional dresses. "Louisa, my mother says, "I can't bear to see you in this dress. See what I have for you.? I walk up and down the racks of dresses observing them closely. I look down at my own long filmy dress and make a decision. "I can't give up my dress, Mother." "I don't want any of these." My hand sweeps across the room and unseen by me because we are separated by a rack of dresses, my mother reacts with shock and horror. I have rejected the only gift she has ever offered me and has a heart attack and dies. When I walk across the aisle to her I discover her dying. "How grotesque," my sister says to me as she enters the room. "The only thing she ever offered you and you refuse it." "How could you; wretched girl." I flee the house supposedly to complete some ephemeral errand.




Scene 5: There are two of them anima twins

It is dusk and I am wandering through the cobblestone narrow streets of the Village in search of my mother's house again. I become cold and tired and stop to rest in an old dark movie theater. An old Marlene Dietrich film is playing called, "The Blue Angel." I notice that two young English girls are sitting near to me in the movie theater. I see they are lovely and appealing although they are dressed in provocative clothing. Their brashness suggests the innocence of the very young. They look at an image of Dietrich on the screen and turn around and point at me. "Look at that one; she is mysterious too." They come and sit next to me and make sexually provocative overtures. One sits in my lap and I am quite taken aback but find them amusing and attractive. We leave the movie theater together to return to the train station.




Scene 6: The anima twins shock the debutantes who are all wearing identical pink hats

The anima twins and I take a subway train to my mother's house. They continue their provocative antics. As the train stops at the next station several debutantes get on the train. They are all wearing identical pink hats. The twins make a scene. One of them puts her hand on my breast. "Take your hand off of Louisa's breast," says the other loudly. the debutantes in their pink hats are shocked by their behavior and insult us. I make a comment that silences them and we get off the train at the next stop.





Scene 7: The face of the head waiter slit up into a grimace as he said to Louisa, "your dress is weird."

We wander through more cobblestone streets in the Village and stop at an elegant hotel to rest. There is a cafe outside. I call A.K. and ask him for directions to my mother's house. He is lthe trustee of my trust and also my father. He gives me directions and the twins and I walk into the dining room. The headwaiter is appalled at our presence for I am in my strange white dress and the twins are in provocative garb. He tries to make us leave and I silence him. I demand after a while that he summon us a cab. He does so reluctantly. Finally he takes one for us that was called for another. He is glad for us to leave. He opens the door of the cab as we leave in a dignified manner. The anima twins and I get in. Suddenly the headwaiter's face slits up into a grimace. He whispers to me, "Louisa your dress is weird."




Scene 8: Louisa wanders into a lost train station

The taxi drops us off in front of an abandoned train station and the anima twins runs off. I see an old bag lady and ask her, "how do I explain these girls at home?" "I need a drink" she replies and vanishes into the dark. I turn around and see that I am being followed by a troupe of mimes. They are dressed in red velvet costumes from head to toe. Their hats are pointed and their tear drops glisten like pearls in the darkness. I start to run and they chase after me. They catch me and surround me in a circle. They dance around me while each one of them mimes a different feeling I have. I react in panic and flee.



Scene 9: Oh Louisa, you have torn your dress

The anima twins and the mime troupe search for me in the train station. Finally they find me down on the station platform. I am sitting on a white horse. I jump off of the horse and this time I am the one who dances. The music of Bolero is playing. My dance is sensuous and provocative as is the music. I throw a small strand of pearls I am wearing onto the train tracks. The dance ends with me tearing open the front of my dress of bewitching batiste to expose a white breast. At this exact moment a train pulls into the platform; its whistle echoing through the empty station and its shadow covers first my breast and then all of me; all of everyone. The train passes through the now empty station. All vanishes. A voice whispers in the dark, "Oh Louisa, you have torn your dress."


Friday, December 03, 2010

Conversations with Helene Grimaud or through the mystery flower Part Ten, said Princess Haiku




Every great artist inspires love, devotion and awakening of true self as does the pianist, Helene Grimaud. I visited her guest book on her web site at Deutschgrammophon and spent a long time perusing her messages.

These intimate conversations with Helene Grimaud, left anonymously by her fans touched my heart. They were a fascinating and poetic outpouring of love, spiritual confession, appreciation and devotion. You can read the original article here and below you will find more of the letters.

I hope that you enjoy them.
Princess Haiku



Conversations with Helene Grimaud:


PrincePeterofNewYork
USA
01-11-2008


Ode to Aphrodite by Sappho

Immortal Aphrodite of the splendid throne,
Daughter of Zeus, weaver of snares,
Great Woman, Grant me thins.
Let not my spirit be harnessed by this anguish and affliction
But come here, by me as you did once before.

On that day,
you've heard my distant voice and, nodding,
you left your father's golden chambers to yoke your
two swift companion birds at your glistening chariot.

They fluttered through the spreading sky
and brought you hurriedly down here
by me,
upon the black soil.

Great Woman!
With a smile on your immortal face you had asked me
then,
about my sighs, what was it that made me call to you
yet again?

You asked, "Who is it this time Sappho? Who do you want me
to bring to you? Who, Sappho, is hurting you now?"

And
at that time, you offered, "Tell me
Sappho who she is and if she turns from you now,
soon,
by me,
she'll be turning towards you;
and if she's not close to you now,
soon,
by me,
she will be-
willingly or not?"

Come to me again now.


Mon Cherie Helene, Je t'adore et Je t'aime,
Pierre





RT
Cyprus
10-28-2008

I love you and despair is on my lips
Sometimes I swallow bitter poison
Tonight, I seek you out in my dreams alone
When I find you, you have three eyes
Each is as beautiful as the others
distorted in this way I can only
Attract someone like me

Be mine for a second, it will feel like infinity
Cyprus has a secret we can both discover

Awed by your presence and performances...
What music surges from below?
Persephone sings a sad song
Can you discern the sounds?

Eternal love



image by blackeri



TP
01-07-207

The eyes are sad.
What if Orpheus never looked back?
Will Eurydice enjoy a second life?






VT
USA
09-10-2007


Dear Ms Grimaud,
I just returned to my apartment, turned on the radio and had the great pleasure of hearing your 2007 recording of the Emperor Concerto. As always, the soulful musicality in your playing moved me in ways that I constantly yearn for but rarely experience.
As a NYC based composer... all I can say is thank you for your many and ongoing contributions not only to the music literature but really at a higher level... for allowing us to experience the "otherness" in musical experience that reaffirms our humanity, our pursuit of truth through art and not least, the physical and aural wonders found in great music.



Simone
Belgium
03-06-2007

Dear Helena,

I attended your concert on Monday, February 27th and it was my first classical concert. I was taken to a vibrant world I could never have imaged. Uneducated in the field of classical music a curtain has been torn and a new world opened to me.


Francois
France
04-03-2006

Hello Helena,

I was at the concert at the Halle aux grains de Toulouse where there was trouble over scheduling. I feared that you would refuse to play. I took several deep breaths to regain a bit of inner peace before your entry. You have offered the emotions of such intensity, such a purity. I am up against the weakness, the impotence of words to translate what I felt. I trust that your eyes fall on this message and will receive my deepest gratitude.

Friday, October 01, 2010

Conversations with Helene Grimaud or through the mystery flower Part Eight, said Princess Haiku



Every great artist inspires love, devotion and awakening of true self as does the pianist, Helene Grimaud. I visited her guest book on her web site at Deutschgrammophon and spent a long time perusing her messages.

These intimate conversations with Helene Grimaud, left anonymously by her fans touched my heart. They were a fascinating and poetic outpouring of love, spiritual confession, appreciation and devotion. You can read the original article here and below you will find more of the letters.

I hope that you enjoy them.
Princess Haiku


Conversations with Helene Grimaud:



PrincePeterofNewYork
USA
12-16-2008

Pour Helene!

Sous le ciel de Paris
S'envole une chanson,
Mmmmm, Mmmmm
Elle est nee aujourd'hui
Dans le coeur d'un garcon
Marchent des amoreux
Mmmmm, Mmmmm
Leur bonheur se construit
Sur un air fait pour eux...



AN
03-19-2009

Somehow dreams feel like they take me up and down the musical scales where conflict seeks resolution.

What do you think?



Ka
Greece
01-09-2008

Helene,

Your interest in classical art in history was not a surprise to me. A play with the olive tree, exploring the Karyatides, the Parthenon, looking for the statue of Athena, made this visit an interesting escape into architecture and sculpture of an old civilization.

I can appreciate why you visited this site. As Le Cobusier understood better than most modern critics, the manner in which the Doric system was calculated in the Parthenon to evoke that "sensation of a profound harmony" that philosophers have sometimes called the esthetic emotion.

I feel proud that you chose this civilized site versus any other. On the other hand, you certainly made friends with one of my favored women. For in her there is a spirit that is awesome-just like yours! Discovering the olive tree- a symbol of well- being.



photo from theoi



Note
USA
10-09-2008

I told you in Atlanta, that I was a fan because I heard you play a seection from Bach and it made me cry. That was something that had never happened to me before.



MT
USA
08-21--2008

Your interest in the alternative painter John William Waterhouse was a surprise to me. My original choice was Dante Gabriel Rossetti, but you prefer John.





Stone
USA
03-29-2006

Dearest Helene,

I am staying in touch with the center through your wonderful website. The death of dear Eno has taken my heart with him. Those whom we love and lose are no longer where they were... they are wherever we are.

I cannot express how the memory of witnessing your fund-raising recital in, Westchester has haunted me through the years. It was the first time that we met and there has not been anything all to compare with it in my life. I have tried to keep up with all of your beautiful recordings including the marvelous Credo. It still overflows and takes my heart away like no other.

I don't know if you will ever read this, but if you do, please know that you are never far away from my most admiring and loving thoughts.



Aph
USA
03-24-2006

I visited your fan line and a few of your concerts and spoke to you briefly. what is most interest to me is the way that you treat each person on the queue. You seem to greet everyone with interest and enthusiasm. The young, the old and the in-between get a heart warming welcome. To the person in front of me you were a goddess of music.






SV
italty
03-27-2009

Beauty and the Beast

I checked a mirror and I saw a beast
I did not understand the qualities of the mirror until I met you
So years went by and now when I look into the mirror I see beauty.

How do I know?
I see it in the eyes of others. The faithful go to church to pray for forgiveness
I go to your line to get your signature.

A few years ago I almost did not get your signature
Instead, got the feeling that I was a burden
So, I looked into the mirror and discovered an ugly me.

If I were to get a second chance at impressing you,
What mirror do I look within?







PrincePeterofNewYork
The Bahamas
11-25-2008

Mon Cherie Helene,

Le 2 Decembre a 20h00, Pierre Boulez dirigera "L'Oiseau de Feu" le chef d'oeuvre de Stravinsky, sous la celebre
Pyramide du Musee du Louvre! C'est la pied!

Recontrez moi la!
Pierre



ACI
Croatia
2007

I've been working on a play based on Anna Akhmatova.. whose flat or prison in St. Petersburg I visited the day after your concert in July 2005. You played Schumann on 7.7 during the white nights... Thank you Helene for all of the unforgettable moments.

Thursday, September 02, 2010

Conversations with Helene Grimaud or through the mystery flower Part Seven, said Princess Haiku


Every great artist inspires love, devotion and awakening of true self as does the pianist, Helene Grimaud. I visited her guest book on her web site at Deutschgrammophon and spent a long time perusing her messages.

These intimate conversations with Helene Grimaud, left anonymously by her fans touched my heart. They were a fascinating and poetic outpouring of love, spiritual confession, appreciation and devotion. You can read the original article here and below you will find more of the letters.

I hope that you enjoy them.
Princess Haiku


Conversations with Helene Grimaud:



PrincePeterofNewYork
USA
12-23-2008

Mon cherie Helene,

In summer's heat or snowy winter deep,
Whether you are are near or far,
You'll always be y piano virtusosa shining star,
More beautiful than the Sisters of the Pleiades, by far!

Happy Holidays et Season's Greeting et Bonne Annee!
Je t'aime et Je t'adore,

Pierre

P.S.
What you are, you are by accident of birth;
What I am. I am by myself,
There are and will be a thousand Princes;
There is only one Beethoven!



Char
USA
03-03-2009

Wisdom in Hibernation

In Courtly Love we gather our forces and circle
the rest is Magical and Divine.



AVR
USA
12-11-2008

Breaking out of Cliche

Longing for anything
A gape evolving daily
T asting the essence of the loved one
E vaporating and condensing in new forms
R oaming the Universe together
A ndrogynous
L overs without limits

T he score you played next door
H eavenly sounds mesmerizing me
I nsights inside a circular design
N o is not in my dictionary
K isses are forever French



TX
Germany 11-11-2008

Dear Wolfwoman,

some parts I played last year...
You have to know I never learned it; not even notes...
I had the courage and played in Munich near the Marienplatz on the street and saw people's eyes after playing. I saw their feelings and know I met their hearts.





Credo
Austria
07-11-2008

Bon anniversaire and happy birthday, liebe Helene!
May there be joy for you and all your beloved ones
on this God given day.
May this joy unveil the sorrow,
if there is any afflicting sound in the sense
of your wonderful heart.

a silent bearer of a rose.



JT
USA
07-11-2008

Dear Helene:

I wish you a very happy birthday.
I very much enjoyed the new Bach recording with its wonderful logical program. I still remember the night in Troy, New York where you performed the Bach/Busoni Chaconne as if your life depened on it. I always look forward to your very special musical insights that strike a chord in my heart.



KE
USA

12027-2007

When you are absent I notice
No movement in the waves of perceptions
The fields stand still in dead calm



Pei
Greece
12-16-2007

Magical Helene,

In awe I reflect my perceptions.

The hands of a craftsman shape visions
Free Aphrodite from an amorphous marble
Carving, sanding, shaping the next goddess

Tools of creation possessing life force
Tiresome and agile moving with speed
Giving life, mixing, arranging, creating music.



Valz
USA
12-12-2007

I asked you to dance with me
Moving apart in tachyon speeds we land in a new world
Mine will remain a mystery while yours a fairy tale



HT
France
11-20-2007



Chopin and Helene
Genius meets Genius
Creativity meets Synaesthesia

Pythia's dreams of a magical union
Between the two
A soulful connection.

The union of conscious femininity
Can only be contained in a love container
Made up in Quantum Soup of Super Strings

The mystery composer in love
Not the poet but the choreographer discovers
Graffiti in secret envelopes

JB
UK
06-21-2006

Get well soon!

Trust that the music in your soul shall cast aside your maladies; these shadow impostors of illness. Then rising up again unobstructed, you can pour your soul into the music. Destined to perform you shall lay unhindered and we shall listen.



Anon
USA
06011006

Connecting with all the waves may bring the miraculous into being.



AP
France
04-20-2006

Chere Mademoiselle Grimaud,

While I adore you I sometimes feel this world is not such a friendly place for talent like yours, because I perceive this theme from below the collective, the matrix.



DA
Greece
04-05- 2006

Your thoughts triggered a trip to Christina's world.
Here is my favorite poem written by her.

One face looks from all his canvases,
One selfsame figure sits or walks or leans:
We found her hidden just behind those screens,
That mirror gave back all her loveliness.
A queen in opal or in ruby dress,
A nameless girll in freshest summer greens,
A saint, an angel- every canvas means
The same one meaning, neither more or less.
He feeds upon her face by day and night,
And she with true kind eyes looks back on him,
Fair as the moon and joyful as the light:
Not wan with waiting, nor with sorrow dim;
Nor as she is, but was when hope shone bright;
Not as she is ,but as she fills his dream.

Christina Rossetti
12/24/1856