proud music of the storm
Jun. 25th, 2017 10:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yamamanamaSo I saw the Art of Sound installation at Ruggles Station. At one end of the Harmonic Conduit, the sounds of a cafe in Roxbury are transmuted into harmony, at the other end, there's a really cool sculpture and the sounds of the Northeastern University campus transmuted into harmony.
http://subwaynut.com/mbta/orange_line/ruggels/ruggels11.jpg
There's a kinetic sculpture too along the concourse but SubwayNut neglected to photograph it. There just aren't many reasons to come to Ruggles, aside from the sound installation. Maybe if the Green Line was fucked in some way, or maybe you're going to the MFA and you started on the Orange Line rather than the Red Line.
Here's what people have to say about things they've learned from art and memories they want to preserve forever.
the moment of a french man whom I still have a crush on makijng meals for me when I visited him in Rennes. We can't be together. That moment was sweet, yet bitter. - Renée.
My grandfather carrying me in his arms as we picked flowers. I can still remember vividly the sun hitting my face, his touch, the fragrance of the flowers.
Spinning in a field of sunflowers.
Everything is a mess right now but I'm ok.
Our wedding day in 1995 documenting that love and committment between two men is just as important as anyone else. (I'm guessing that it wasn't official or maybe, like me, they were exiled to an alternate reality for transgressing social norms. The first laws that allowed same-sex marriage were in 2001 and Massachusetts allowed it in 2004. I wonder what the last country to legalize same-sex marriage will be. Probably Syria.)
At 50 I found new love. Don't give up.
My uncle Henry. He was a Jewish refugee from Nazi Germany who fled in January of 1940, drafted into the US Army and died on a troop transport that hit a German mine.
Always do right. Never do something just because others are.
Through art anything is possible.
Care about us. blacklivesmatter.
"That's not how you carve a chicken!" a woman said about a bowl shaped like a fowl. There's a mace, symbol of the Boston mayors in the early 18th century.
There's a new exhibit on the Eight Brokens, or Bā pò, a Chinese style born from the turmoil of the early 20th century where artists paint fragments of items, typically images and calligraphy, in a form that mimics a collage.
Paola has a tattoo of the moon holding aloft a potted plant, partially hidden by the sleeve of her shirt. It looks like the far side of the moon, or maybe she unwittingly got a tattoo of Mercury instead. She's from Puerto Rico and I'm pretty sure the moon isn't upside down there. This isn't like Argentina. Or Rand McNally, where you do see the far side of the moon but only by daylight. Or maybe it's the sun that goes through phases there. The perspective in her portrait is really skewed because I wanted to get that tattoo. She identifies as queer, Latina, and visible.
I thought Maura had a tattoo but it may just be my imagination.
It's hard to follow Fidelio because only the spoken recitatives were in English, all singing was done in German and there obviously weren't supertitles or trained fireflies. Rocco, the gaoler, has an assistant, Jaquino, who is in love with Rocco's daughter Marzelline, but Marzelline has fallen in love with Fidelio, the new turnkey, and there's this prisoner, Florestan, and the prison commandant, Don Pizarro, has ordered Rocco to give him diminishing rations until he starves to death. Anyway, it turns out that Fidelio is actually Florestan's wife Leonore in disguise, and Florestan is in prison for trying to expose the crimes of Don Pizarro, the King's minister, and Don Fernando has Don Pizarro arrested. And everyone lives happily ever after. It was Ludwig van Beethoven's only opera and premiered in 1814. Originally, it had 3 acts and was very dark and a critical failure so he rewrote most of it.
They started out with some minor technical difficulties and had to pause the concert halfway through the first act because it started spitting rain.
Kristin and Sunshine (It has something to do with the English translation of a German surname or something) are themselves opera singers.
Jackie introduced herself to me because I was like "heyyyYY!" to the corgi and then I told the corgi, whose name I have forgotten, "heh, she thinks I'm talking to her. She has a tattoo of a great blue heron (Ardea herodias) standing amongst colorful plants and a colorful sky. She has an indigo pendant but I don't think she's Puerto Rican, nor does she have blue hair. The corgi was wearing a rainbow bow tie. Dogs are harder to draw than people, mostly because they don't sit still.
The ride home was uneventful enough that I only sketched one person and spent the rest of the ride reading and listening to Tori Amos.
Also, even Pauli's is closed at 7 PM on a Sunday, so I had to run around finding something to eat. Even the Subway near City Hall was closed. Good thing there's a second Boston Shawarma.
burning question: just who the fuck is getting married in the British Antarctic Territory?
http://subwaynut.com/mbta/orange_line/ruggels/ruggels11.jpg
There's a kinetic sculpture too along the concourse but SubwayNut neglected to photograph it. There just aren't many reasons to come to Ruggles, aside from the sound installation. Maybe if the Green Line was fucked in some way, or maybe you're going to the MFA and you started on the Orange Line rather than the Red Line.
Here's what people have to say about things they've learned from art and memories they want to preserve forever.
the moment of a french man whom I still have a crush on makijng meals for me when I visited him in Rennes. We can't be together. That moment was sweet, yet bitter. - Renée.
My grandfather carrying me in his arms as we picked flowers. I can still remember vividly the sun hitting my face, his touch, the fragrance of the flowers.
Spinning in a field of sunflowers.
Everything is a mess right now but I'm ok.
Our wedding day in 1995 documenting that love and committment between two men is just as important as anyone else. (I'm guessing that it wasn't official or maybe, like me, they were exiled to an alternate reality for transgressing social norms. The first laws that allowed same-sex marriage were in 2001 and Massachusetts allowed it in 2004. I wonder what the last country to legalize same-sex marriage will be. Probably Syria.)
At 50 I found new love. Don't give up.
My uncle Henry. He was a Jewish refugee from Nazi Germany who fled in January of 1940, drafted into the US Army and died on a troop transport that hit a German mine.
Always do right. Never do something just because others are.
Through art anything is possible.
Care about us. blacklivesmatter.
"That's not how you carve a chicken!" a woman said about a bowl shaped like a fowl. There's a mace, symbol of the Boston mayors in the early 18th century.
There's a new exhibit on the Eight Brokens, or Bā pò, a Chinese style born from the turmoil of the early 20th century where artists paint fragments of items, typically images and calligraphy, in a form that mimics a collage.
Paola has a tattoo of the moon holding aloft a potted plant, partially hidden by the sleeve of her shirt. It looks like the far side of the moon, or maybe she unwittingly got a tattoo of Mercury instead. She's from Puerto Rico and I'm pretty sure the moon isn't upside down there. This isn't like Argentina. Or Rand McNally, where you do see the far side of the moon but only by daylight. Or maybe it's the sun that goes through phases there. The perspective in her portrait is really skewed because I wanted to get that tattoo. She identifies as queer, Latina, and visible.
I thought Maura had a tattoo but it may just be my imagination.
It's hard to follow Fidelio because only the spoken recitatives were in English, all singing was done in German and there obviously weren't supertitles or trained fireflies. Rocco, the gaoler, has an assistant, Jaquino, who is in love with Rocco's daughter Marzelline, but Marzelline has fallen in love with Fidelio, the new turnkey, and there's this prisoner, Florestan, and the prison commandant, Don Pizarro, has ordered Rocco to give him diminishing rations until he starves to death. Anyway, it turns out that Fidelio is actually Florestan's wife Leonore in disguise, and Florestan is in prison for trying to expose the crimes of Don Pizarro, the King's minister, and Don Fernando has Don Pizarro arrested. And everyone lives happily ever after. It was Ludwig van Beethoven's only opera and premiered in 1814. Originally, it had 3 acts and was very dark and a critical failure so he rewrote most of it.
They started out with some minor technical difficulties and had to pause the concert halfway through the first act because it started spitting rain.
Kristin and Sunshine (It has something to do with the English translation of a German surname or something) are themselves opera singers.
Jackie introduced herself to me because I was like "heyyyYY!" to the corgi and then I told the corgi, whose name I have forgotten, "heh, she thinks I'm talking to her. She has a tattoo of a great blue heron (Ardea herodias) standing amongst colorful plants and a colorful sky. She has an indigo pendant but I don't think she's Puerto Rican, nor does she have blue hair. The corgi was wearing a rainbow bow tie. Dogs are harder to draw than people, mostly because they don't sit still.
The ride home was uneventful enough that I only sketched one person and spent the rest of the ride reading and listening to Tori Amos.
Also, even Pauli's is closed at 7 PM on a Sunday, so I had to run around finding something to eat. Even the Subway near City Hall was closed. Good thing there's a second Boston Shawarma.
burning question: just who the fuck is getting married in the British Antarctic Territory?
