Beauty is Truth, Truth Beauty Poem| Ode on a Grecian Urn Keats

beauty is truth truth beauty
Image from….Ancient Greek Art

Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring’d legend haunt about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter: therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear’d,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal – yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy’d,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy’d,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead’st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e’er return.

O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st,
“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,” – that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

 

“Ode on a Grecian Urn,  John Keats

Graphite Drawing Henry by Kyle Baker

Graphite Drawing Henry by Kyle Baker

Weathered
a bit grateful
a bit humble
a bit proud
unashamed
judging not,
at last.
Me?
Whatchyouwant my picture for?

 

By minimizing the background, Baker’s recent work reminds me of Michelangelo’s unfinished sculptures, the figures trapped in the stone. His main figure is amazing in this. Please click on the image to enlarge. The stark realism of the figure with the background so finely sketched gives the figure of Henry the effect of singular notice. It’s almost like the background is the stone and the figure is trapped in the paper. This gives Henry a singular notice also. The drawing is of Henry and who he is and who he represents to the viewer; character, perseverance, singularity, uniqueness. It is Henry, and Henry alone who was important in that room!

Art by Kyle Baker
Poem and comment by David Michael Jackson

Janet Kuypers’ “Journey” poetry feature 3/28/15, with poetry about her mother

the 3/28/15 Janet Kuypers show “Journey” (with John playing guitar) at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon fs200 video camera), of 14 poem readings about her mother


the 3/28/15 Janet Kuypers show “Journey” (with John playing guitar) at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon Power Shot video camera), of 14 poem readings about her mother


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of cry for me (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon fs200 video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of cry for me (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon Power Shot video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of Story Telling (part one) (a portion of her 2006 poem Story Telling, with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon fs200 video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of Story Telling (part one) (a portion of her 2006 poem Story Telling, with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon Power Shot video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of It Hurts in the Bones (2015 edit) (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon fs200 video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of It Hurts in the Bones (2015 edit) (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon Power Shot video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of Your Soul is Shaking (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon fs200 video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of Your Soul is Shaking (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon Power Shot video camera)

See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of Listening to the Cancer Ads (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon fs200 video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of Listening to the Cancer Ads (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon Power Shot video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of Reduced To Now (an edit of her 2006 poem This Is What It’s Reduced To Now, with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon fs200 video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of Reduced To Now (an edit of her 2006 poem This Is What It’s Reduced To Now, with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon Power Shot video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of final rally (2015 edit) (an edit of her 2006 poem Final Rally, with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon fs200 video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of final rally (2015 edit) (an edit of her 2006 poem Final Rally, with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon Power Shot video camera)

See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of Seven Ten, Seven Twenty (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon fs200 video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of Seven Ten, Seven Twenty (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon Power Shot video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of the Messenger (2015 edit) (an edit of her 2006 poem The Messenger, with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon fs200 video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of the Messenger (2015 edit) (an edit of her 2006 poem The Messenger, with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon Power Shot video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of Knelt and Cried (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon fs200 video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of Knelt and Cried (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon Power Shot video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of A Little Angel Inside (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon fs200 video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of A Little Angel Inside (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon Power Shot video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of Story Telling (the end) (the end of her 2006 poem Story Telling, with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon fs200 video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of Story Telling (the end) (the end of her 2006 poem Story Telling, with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon Power Shot video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of extinct on planet earth (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon fs200 video camera)

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See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of extinct on planet earth (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon Power Shot video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of old school and high-tech monuments (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon fs200 video camera)


See YouTube video of the poem reading by Janet Kuypers of old school and high-tech monuments (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon Power Shot video camera)


See YouTube video of the haiku poem reading by Janet Kuypers of Lucille Ann to make a Vine video in the middle of her poem reading for old school and high-tech monuments (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon fs200 video camera)


See YouTube video of the haiku poem reading by Janet Kuypers of Lucille Ann to make a Vine video in the middle of her poem reading for old school and high-tech monuments (with John playing guitar) in her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed with a Canon Power Shot video camera)


See Vine video of Janet Kuypers reading her twitter-length haiku Lucille Ann as a looping JKPoetryVine video (with John playing guitar) during her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed on a Samsung smart phone)


See Vine video of Janet Kuypers reading her twitter-length haiku Lucille Ann as a looping JKPoetryVine video as practice hours before her 3/28/15 show “Journey” at Sisters on a Journey in Hyde Park in Chicago (filmed on a Samsung smart phone)

Slanting. A Poem by Robin Ouzman Hislop

 
  
 
  
 Chintz
 Tambourine clash
 Smash (music)
 A piping wail
 Hoots
  
 
  
 Day of the Cars
 A graze of grass sheep
 Hedgerow making a hegemonic skyline
 Wires cutting clouds
 Wonky dyke drive in
 Nettle Eureka
 Stacks without smoke
 Wrought iron window -
 Blurs a face in pastel blue.
  
 
  
 Day of the Crane
 Rocks the hill
 Lateral this time
 Just cross over
  
 Chevron bypass
  
 The high street's as empty as the daytime
 Every where's empty even out back
 The sky, the trees with no leaves
  
 Noticeable about the playground
 The sand
  
 Following the big black glass
 At the transport station – I walk into you.
  
 
  
 The skull in the bramble's
 Picked clean by scavengers
 Old before your time.
  
 A selfie on the road
 Skull time is skull time
  
 Smashed in a white torrent rolls
 A giant shining black trunk
 Cactus wave, nod, interested observers.
  
 Now's for the winding
 Next, you'll dry up
 But now the lagoon is – action.
  
 
  
 You're so pretty squatting amongst the rocks
 Which keep their own rites
 Remember how clean you look in the forest
 Nobody's like you.
  
 Look down, i'll look up.
  
 Back again, every where's deserted
 Kinda eerie
 There's a fence between me, the rest.
  
 Dense foliage. Smoke on the horizon
 The enclosures are the worst
 Because they look like the best then get you.
  
 Blow sky
 Don't diminish more
 I can scarcely keep you in.
  
 
  
 A high nest on the lowlands
 Here come the Imaginals.
  
 Watch my stick.
  
 Into the mouth of the cave's roar
 A flood freeze
 Does time freeze, flood or fall?
  
 Nosey Chico.
  
 Perspectives unfold
 Nice profile
 Chewed up most of that.
  
 
  
 Day of the Crane
 Rock cleaver. Leveller.
  
 Beauty keep your eyes shut
 Where's it gone
 Oh shit
 Rotate baby
 Suspicious, wandering abroad without visible
 Means of support.
  
 
  
 A white cathedral
 In a city through the trees with leaves
 Who could ask for anything more
 Skip along
 Moonlight through the pines
 Hogey. Cakes. Nifty. Hooded.
 Get the picture!
  
 
  
 There's something about moss
 Life's tough
 Short cuts are stressful, as well
 Out in, in out
 That's landscape cheating in the original!
 Repetition is not completion.
  
 
  
 Say panter not panther
 I'm in saliva
 Wrangle, tangle
 I bear witness to your fall
 Helpless before your might
 It's your deal.
  
 Coming back, it's still deserted
 Day of the Crane.
  
 
  
 Day of the Car
 Hood into the snow
 Much time spent waiting
 Come over here sweetheart.
  
 
  
 After the bath
 Night lights. Skyline a selfie. Scarfed.
 We come in peace – so what!
 Grotesque obelisks – endure us
 It's just days for you!
 A portrait will do
 On the street, no one meets
 first one, last one, beggar man, thief
  
 Fame as we all know is an illusion,
 What's upstream?
 Day of the Imaginals.
  
 
  
 Share, share alike
 who's pulling who?
 Deserted again
 Framed.
  
 A solitary mister
 On the look out in the lowlands
 Halfway bridge, cross both ways
 Under the arches
 Just a step, careful -
 Upstream, downstream, in the stream, where!
 That's it, stand in the middle.
  
 
  
 Rain drops, bird shit
 Fractals in summertime
 Who's lost?
 In the circumference, on the periphery
 Roll,
 Primroses wild in a meadow sweet straw hat
 Arms akimbo
 She, he munching the same cud.
  
 Moving on is a must
 The great, the small huddle
 Stone, - paper in the solarium.
  
 
  
 Day of the Crazy Carnival,
 Flags, crucifixes
 Pattern soliloquy with a dazzle
 but the antennae steal the show
 in an odds on – hurrah!
  
 Lotus versus lilies, splatter the pane
 As magic appears again, in a sliced frame.
  
 A saloon's interior – plus furnishings
 A dilapidated roof where the green abounds
 Weather matters in the symmetry.
  
 Footpath. Wind generator. Harvested field
 Fern
 On the way she pirouettes on air, there
  
 To the Pond
 Fish, fishermen
 An hour ago
 Temporary emergency
 Closure
 3 ways to nowhere
 Pay Here
 Go green at the Pond
 Day of the Pond.
  
 
  
 White mannequins in high window
 A getting wed celebration
 Shot on location, city in a window
 According to law.
  
 
  
 Story of a dog, what follows on
 High rise, she poses in a garden of roses
 Frog at Pool Farm
 Do not touch
 Danger overhead. Loose dogs on patrole.
 Pick your own here, at a price.
  
 
  
 It's an unnatural dead end
 A National Trust cul de sac
 Back at the farm – a fine day
 To grow, property.
  
 Leftover tractor's out
 a world war relic
 an outlaw, unwanted in every land.
  
 A 30 foot the wind generator
 Heralds the patchwork downs
 Behind the field the battery foreclosure
 Non-giving slopes, scrub
 A fine day for what, unrelenting power!
  
 
  
 Everybody knows reflection deceives
 Water lilies, moor-hens
 Sunken branches in their shadows
 Are all in their boundaries
 Layers of surfaces where we drown in shine
 across on the peripheral horizon
 In attendant regard they stay in non committal
 stares on the edges of muddy banks.
  
 
  
 So expensive – Monumentals
 Shoppers in displays. Christmas trees
 Identifiable by their electric coronas.
  
 Streets are ghosts
 Mew in the park
 Stay, forever stray.
  
 Coffee table bird time
 Perch which-a-way
 You peek that-a-way
 I'll peek this-a-way
 Look straight up.
  
 More monuments
 Inside crinkly colours
 Embalmed in sweets
 Outside more ghosts
 Even with the ladder
 You carry to climb out from
 Where the shadows carry you.
  
 
  
 Clipped in a mirror on a silver stair
 A sectional action recorded
 In a space time bloc
 Whose being had!
 Tombstone blues on the pavements
 Bull fights – Bull shit
 Make my day.
  
 
  
 Paper floats as air boats
 Hanging besides the stair
 Clock on the wall
 Locked door
 Glass walls
 Sit in the New Gardens
 Paper refreshments, art décor
 All the world's a collage
 On your doorstep
 On the polished wooden bench
 Where you mustn't die
 On this occasion in the Arcade.
  
 Lest we forget
 Time branches in the mist
 A mix of entropies.
  
 
  
 Artifice in perspective
 From a high window watch the queue
 In the rain paying to go in.
  
 I'll watch you walk out
 Follow your backs
 Against the back of the day
 A day's visit down river, bank bikes
 Cathedral caught in a glimpse
 Between trees
 Instanced in a stacked stance
 The barges being for the other.
  
 Under the bridge again
 Cat on the roof, (Black)
 There was a plague
 A multitude in pastiche
 Heads up everywhere
 Old Masters eternally retouched
 Ghosts forever young, where we fade.
  
 Offices to let
 Sitting out history on the lawn
 Where no birds sing, a few pigeons
 Alms at the Workhouse, hard times
 Every tower aspiring sweetly like a flower.
  
 
  
 Sheer in carved stone it looms before its minions
 Inside the double white non parking line
 We stand around between pickets
 In the name of tyranny.
  
 To see or not to see, mere mereness of distortion
 As if the far side were the other side. As if
 One step were an inexorable impossible reach
 Not to its impossibility but to serve only ruins.
  
 Daytime is a sham of inverted symmetry.
  
 
  
 Beyond the blur
 It glows down the strand
 Hidden in foreclosure
 A gem gleams.
  
 On crowded sunny days
 Heroic kudos to their statues
 On a deserted place by night
 A glittering cone of light
 A winter festal. Emptiness.
 A grey bell tower chimes the hour
 Adds a person in less than a minute.
  
 
  
 Bubbles beneath the surface
 Amazing amber in golden silt
 The hazes are in flight
 Bridle the day
 Growth, overgrowth is not so lush
 Wreckage of our spoil
 A poisoned banquet for all
 But for a day.
  
 
  
 We must peer down
 There's room in the street for us
 The ultimate consummation
 Hunger is a cause
 Try it side on – both
 The wood's laid out in plan
 Round another magic bend
 Behold, Day of the Plague.
  
 
  
 Access to the land is denied
 Use your wristwatch after arrival
 Don't look now - it's behind you
 At last form, lilac on the hill
 Time to pose.
  
 
  
 Lets try it in reverse
 Turn twice, above us only bell
 How picturesque, the large
 By the wayside, which side are you on?
 A relic of yore, want to play?
 No exit from the bus stop
 Is this an argument for sufficient reason?
  
 
  
 Almost spot on
 Suddenly it's lilac again
 Whose playing anyway?
 Another time
 Close up you fall but shouldn't
 Close close the water waits
 Waits more still, the whichaway sign
 Advances the retreat.
  
 
  
 A garden of your own
 Tooth in claw after all
 No where’s safe.
  
 What's that
 A workhouse turned theatre
 Burlesque in a cartoon charade
 Civilisation is never far away
 Just round the corner in fact
 Follow the path you can't get lost
 Names name names.
  
 
  
 It will have to do
 It's choice after all, isn't it.
  
 Either the sky or us
 Take your pick
 Is it a UFO or the government.
  
 Only the downs sing on
 Caught up pointing nowhere
 A place from before
 On the crown of its own desolation.
  
 Meanwhile on a broken wing
 Clouds tangle with the moon's moment
 A sufficient distortion of fact.
  
  
  

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Robin Ouzman Hislop was an Editor at the 12 year running on line monthly poetry journal Poetry Life & Times, now at Artvilla.com, as its Editor. He has made many appearances over the last years in the quarterly journals Canadian Zen Haiku, including In the Spotlight Winter 2010 & Sonnetto Poesia. Previously published in international magazines, his recent publications include Voices without Borders Volume 1 (USA), Cold Mountain Review, Appalachian University N Carolina, The Poetic Bond Series, available at The Poetic Bond and Phoenix Rising from the Ashes an Anthology of Sonnets. He has recently completed a volume of poetry, All the Babble of the Souk , publication now available. He is currently resident in Spain engaged in poetry translation projects.

Sangeeta Majumder and Strings N Steps


Music Direction and Arrangement by Shri Neel Ranjan Mukherjee
Project conceptualization and Art Direction by Sangeeta Majumder.

Shiva-Parvati Stuti, a special performance.
Music by Shri Neel Ranjan Mukherjee
Tabla by Shri Zuheb Ahmed Khan

This is the one and only musical group in the world which is an exclusive venture presenting ‘Kathak’ , a North Indian Classical Dance and ‘Hawaiian guitar’ , a lap slide guitar from Hawaiian Islands , simultaneously on the same stage complementing each other.……

Born in the family of academicians and business persons in the City of Joy, Kolkata, Sangeeta Majumder is the first generation in her family who chose her career in the field of kathak dance. This exceptionally talented and creative danseuse is presently practicing in the prime institution of India of the legendary kathak Maestro and the world’s most celebrated Kathak Guru Padmavibhushan Pandit Birju Maharaj, named ‘KALASHRAM’, New Delhi, under the guidance of Pandit Deepak Maharaj, she has also been fortunate to learn from Pandit Ram Mohan Maharaj in the famous institution Sriram Bharatiya Kala Kendra, New Delhi, India. Though, learning in guru-shishya parampara since many years she is a First Class Master Degree holder in Kathak Dance from Punjabi University, Patiala and Diploma with Distinction in ‘Kathak’ from ‘Chandigarh University’. This multi-faceted young dancer also holds a Master Degree in English from ‘University of Calcutta’.
As Martha Graham said “Dance is the hidden language of the soul” ― this passionate kathak dancer has spell a charm by depicting the soulful language with her extremely beautiful facial expression and graceful body movements of Lucknow Gharana . Her vibrant style of dancing illustrates a promising dancer of this gharana with the blessings of her gurus and audiences in a very small span of time. “Ability to move effortlessly from one character to another in split of seconds has helped her in winning over the applauses of the audiences.”
Her deep involvement, commitment and awareness towards society accelerated her to an endeavour ‘STRINGS N STEPS’. This is an NGO, registered under society act, situated in New Delhi, India. This is a cultural group which promotes and teaches the children (from the grass root level of the society) music and dance and makes them aware of Art, Culture & strong heritage of India. She is the General Secretary of Strings N Steps. She organises ‘STRINGS N STEPS FESTIVAL’ in New Delhi every year. This gives a platform to the little budding artists to perform with the established stars from Indian Classical field. This is a huge inspirational effort as a responsible artist of the society. It has another important aspect. ‘Strings N Steps’ is the one and only musical group in the world which is an exclusive venture presenting ‘Kathak’ and ‘Hawaiian guitar’ simultaneously on the same stage complementing each other. This is an amalgamation of Hindustani Classical dance supplemented by Western instrument playing Hindustani Raga by famous musician of India Shri Neel Ranjan Mukherjee (prime disciple of legendary Sitar maestro Padmabhushan Pandit Debu Chaudhuri), and Internationally acclaimed Tabla Wizard Ustad Akram Khan, supported by other instruments played by the musicians of international repute.(COPY RIGHT RESERVED). She aims to carry on her research work on Indian classical Music and Dance in this era of globalization. Another remarkable work Kathak-Hawaiian Guitar-Vocal trio named Sangam, which has been performed perhaps for first time in India.
This young dancer organizes different kinds of charitable cultural events in different parts of India to popularize traditional music and dance amongst the masses in her own way by sponsoring the disadvantaged artists with grants. She has organised this kind of programs in Jharkhand in July ’13, in Kathmandu, Nepal (2013), West Bengal in Jan ’14, with the financial support from ‘Strings N Steps’.
She has conducted workshops in different leading schools of India like Delhi Public School, DAV Public School (organised by Sahitya Kala Parishad, Government of National Capital Territory of Delhi) , Pragati Public School, Navyug School, New Delhi to name a few. Her choreography for Bani Vidya Mandir won the award for the performance in All Bengal Inter School Competition, organised by West Bengal Government ’07. She had got privilege to conduct workshop with Vidushi Mamta Maharaj in Punjab Kala Bhawan, Chandigarh. She has assisted Pandit Ram Mohan Maharaj in the choreography for Republic Day Parade in the front of the former President of India Smt. Pratibha Devi Singh Patil and other distinguished guests in the year 2011.
Recently, Sangeeta has been awarded with ‘Roll of Honour’ from Government College for Girls, Punjabi University, Patiala, Punjab ‘15. She has been felicitated by Padma Bhushan Awardee Pandit Debu Chaudhuri in ‘Ustad Mushtaq Ali Khan Festival ’14. She is also the recipient of the very prestigious Award of Uttar Pradesh Sangeet Natak Academy Yuva Puraskar in the Competition in Kathak for securing first position, ‘13. She has been honoured to receive the felicitation from Padma Vibhushan Awardee Pandit Birju Maharaj in the Graduation Ceremony of Kalashram for securing second position ’12. She has held the First position in Kathak from Sur-O-Taal, Pracheen Kala Kendra ‘07. Recognition and the Title ‘Nritya Gaurav’ and Pride of Kolkata were given to her by Award Council of India, Lucknow in the year 2012. She has also received National recognition “Meera Award” in the year 2009 for the ‘Excellence in Kathak dance’ from Agra, Uttarpradesh. She has performed for National Television Channel Doordarshan , New Delhi and Kolkata in various events. She has been acknowledged for his spirited movements in festivals like World Dance Day, Festival organised by Kalashram & ICCR, New Delhi, Patna Mahotsav , Vasant Utsav, Holi Utsav, Ballet Festival by Sriram Bharatiya Kala Kendra, New Delhi, Noida Shilpotsav, Uttar Pradesh. She has performed for many reputed organisation, Universities and performing institutions in different cities of Punjab, Haryana, West Bengal, Andhra Pradesh in India and in Dubai, Sharjah (United Arab Emirates), Kathmandu (Nepal), Dhaka (Bangladesh). Performance for Indian Council For Cultural Relations Bhopal Chapter and Bhubaneshwar Chapter, for Navarasam, Culicut, Kerala in association with Ministry of Culture and Sangeet Natak Academy. In the year 2013 she has been appointed as the online and visiting Kathak faculty member of Saaz-O-Awaz, Academy of Indian Music, Toronto, Canada. This year she has been invited to Buenos Aires, Argentina to conduct workshops and give performances. She has been also fortunate to be invited to perform and represent India as Cultural Ambassador in India-Maldives Friendship Festival, FAIM in Male, Maldives.
Sangeeta is currently running a Music, Dance and general education school in Kolkata named Kalasangam and she teaches Kathak many students in India and as well as in abroad . Her pleasant mind and personality reflect in her dance presentation on stage and completes her as one of the most sparkling Kathakas for her solo performances. Her decorative performances made her as a role model to the younger students of her genre. She is a regular faculty of Kathak Dance in UMAK Institute for Performing Arts (Institute of Padma Bhushan Pandit Debu Chaudhri). Recently she was interviewed by All India Radio, National channel titled “Stri Shakti” and “Mulakatein” for her achievements. She has been featured in Hindustan Times, The Telegraph, The Statesman, Dainik Jagran and other leading newspapers along with some of online web magazines.
Not only, Sangeeta practices her Kathak dance but she has a special interest to learn Indian classical music and learnt vocal under the able guidance of renowned guru Charanjit Soni in Shriram Bharatiya Kala Kendra. Sangeeta manifested her versatility as a commercial model and TV anchor. There is a popular saying “Let us read, and let us dance; these two amusements will never do any harm to the world.” by Voltaire inspires her. She has also learnt Bharatnatyam, kathakali, Manipuri these other classical dance forms along with Salsa, waltz, jazz and many more to have a knowledge and keeping herself up-to-date name a few.
In her words: “Artists should be the virtuous soul who will be dedicating themselves to cultivate new life in the field of music and society.
“Kathak needs lots of sacrifices, hard work, and pain too. Kathak is not just a North Indian Classical Dance form; it’s a doctrine of life!”

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Séraphine de Senlis | A Poem by Titania Starr

Séraphine Louis, L'arbre de Pararadis
Séraphine Louis, L’arbre de Pararadis, Ripolin sur toile, vers 1928-30…….image via Wiki

 

 

Séraphine de Senlis

 

(Seraphine Louis 1864 -1942. French Painter)

 

Paintings grew out of you like trees.

In glowing light on your knees

You painted each leaf tending over it,

Perfecting it, giving it life,

Singing as you worked, as you painted,

As you planted each tree into the canvas.

 

The leaves were alive. They had eyes.

They had blood in their veins.

I saw them fluttering about the room,

My room, a century later like butterflies.

Red leaves like feather or flame

Flying through the air birds or fire.

 

The evenings were yours.

Mixing the alchemic paints,

Turning river reeds and field grasses

Into eye-catching green,

The algae pigment leaves budding

Before your eyes, and those of our Virgin.

 

Leaves floated from the easel, like in a wind.

My eyes wept. The candles burned.

Hymns splashed from your mouth

Onto the canvas. Into the paints.

The trees grew with the sound of song;

The angels heard it, the trumpets sounded.

 

From your daytime walks you brought back

The countryside in your eye.

You re-planted each flower in paint;

The white flower like a candle’s halo

Or a saint’s glow. Flowers

Blue with petals like Mary’s garments.

 

You painted and planted a harvest.

Then the light dimmed, and song ended.

Your thoughts seemed to snap, like twigs.

All the leaves that burned red,

Shone red, now drained of blood.

Your paradisal trees stood shrouded.

 

© Titania Starr 2010