Archive for the Photo Category

Leigh in Shakespeare

Posted in Photo with tags , , on November 6, 2017 by Dylan Thomas Hayden


Hamlet, 1937


A Midsummer Night’s Dream, 1937


Romeo and Juliet, 1940


Richard III, 1948


Antony and Cleopatra, 1951




Macbeth, 1955


Titus Andronicus, 1955


Twelfth Night, 1955

“Shaw is like a train. One just speaks the words and sits in one’s place. But Shakespeare is like bathing in the sea – one swims where one wants.”

–Vivien Leigh

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Blanche DuBois

Posted in Cinema, Photo with tags , , on November 5, 2017 by Dylan Thomas Hayden






Behind the scenes of A Streetcar Named Desire

Vivien Leigh 104

Posted in Cinema, Photo with tags , on November 5, 2017 by Dylan Thomas Hayden








Behind the scenes of Gone With the Wind

If forced to choose I would have to assert that Vivien Leigh was the greatest screen actress of all time, and that two roles alone suffice to demonstrate her preeminence: Scarlett O’Hara and Blanche DuBois. In these two colossal performances she towers above other players like a terrible goddess amid muttering drabs. She was also among the loveliest to look upon. Her feminine charms were naturally superlative but it was her tender smile and the light in her eyes, surviving age and unhappiness, that were so touching and unforgettable.

In the Beginning

Posted in Photo, Poetry with tags , on October 27, 2017 by Dylan Thomas Hayden


In the beginning was the three-pointed star,
One smile of light across the empty face,
One bough of bone across the rooting air,
The substance forked that marrowed the first sun,
And, burning ciphers on the round of space,
Heaven and hell mixed as they spun.

In the beginning was the pale signature,
Three-syllabled and starry as the smile,
And after came the imprints on the water,
Stamp of the minted face upon the moon;
The blood that touched the crosstree and the grail
Touched the first cloud and left a sign.

In the beginning was the mounting fire
That set alight the weathers from a spark,
A three-eyed, red-eyed spark, blunt as a flower,
Life rose and spouted from the rolling seas,
Burst in the roots, pumped from the earth and rock
The secret oils that drive the grass.

In the beginning was the word, the word
That from the solid bases of the light
Abstracted all the letters of the void;
And from the cloudy bases of the breath
The word flowed up, translating to the heart
First characters of birth and death.

In the beginning was the secret brain.
The brain was celled and soldered in the thought
Before the pitch was forking to a sun;
Before the veins were shaking in their sieve,
Blood shot and scattered to the winds of light
The ribbed original of love.

Photo by Lee Miller
Poem by Dylan Thomas

On Alcman

Posted in Object, Photo, Poetry with tags , , , on November 18, 2016 by Dylan Thomas Hayden

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Do not judge the man by the stone. Simple is the tomb to look on, but holds the bones of a great man. Thou shalt know Alcman the supreme striker of the Laoconian lyre, possessed by the nine Muses. Here resteth he, a cause of dispute to two continents, if he be a Lydian or a Spartan. Minstrels have many mothers.

Text: Antipater of Thessalonica, The Greek Anthology VII:18 translated by W. R. Paton. Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 1917
Image: Marble stele [MAMA XI 70 (Sebaste)], 3rd century AD, Private collection

Doric

Posted in Architecture, Philosophy, Photo with tags , , , on November 17, 2016 by Dylan Thomas Hayden

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“…I went to Paestum, and there saw Doric temples for the first time, symbols of severity, simplicity, harmony, and strength. There was the pure vein to be traced in the quartz of Roman accumulations and grossness…

Doric purity is not a thing to be expected again in history, at least not yet. It indicates a people that knows its small place in the universe and yet asserts its dignity. In early Christian art there may be simplicity and naïveté, but never self-knowledge. The aspiration in it is childlike. For anything like Doric fortitude in the West we must look to the castles, not to the churches; and the castles are Christian only by association. Here then was an ultimate point of reference, a principle of manly purity, to mark one extreme in the moral scale of all human arts…”

Text: George Santayana, My Host the World. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1953
Image: Alexander John Ellis, two daguerreotypes of the temple of Hera at Paestum, 1841. via Getty Images

 

Leonard Cohen’s Hydra

Posted in Music, Photo with tags on November 13, 2016 by Dylan Thomas Hayden

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Not knowing quite how to respond to the death of an artist who has meant so much to us we have chosen, in no particular order, some photographs from Leonard Cohen’s life on Hydra, the Greek island where we also have lived many ancient and instantaneous hours. And yes we have sung Suzanne there, in an open boat in the old harbour under the Milky Way. May his memory be a blessing.