This is my first essay in the public dissemination of my thoughts both public and private - other than by way of print. It is an essay in the true sense of the word, a try-out, I am not yet completely aware of the (b)logic of blogging...
It will remain a lonely blogessay for the time being, because I need to write other things first, intended for the traditional press - the conclusion of a dissertation - or necessary for the very concrete purpose of finding another job.
Reading all the newspaper articles on the Dutch government stance on culture - which is my field - that seems a daunting task.
Nevertheless for some reason I do not panic - I do not really know why. Every morning Margriet Vromans on (Dutch) Radio 4 ends her programme with the wish "monter voorwaarts" - "happily onward". I suppose that is the right spirit... "and he went on his way rejoicing..."
There is so much beauty in the world that one cannot help going onward rejoicing - even the bad things have their poignancy - otherwise how could we ever appreciate War and Peace ?
I suppose I will use this blog in future to point out wonderful things I have appreciated myself - quotations, links to Youtube etc.
Let me begin with Nekamenujte proroky, a beautiful song set by Smetana, which is singularly appropriate to the present cultural climate in my own country: you can hear it sung magnificently by Eduard Haken at Youtube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&v=MuB3V2H4dSI
and (lacking the second strophe) by Gabriela Benackova in the title role of the film on the tragic life of the famous Czech singer Emmy Destinn:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&v=t4qOI6WxZdo
This is the text:
Nekamenujte proroky
Nekamenujte proroky !
Neb pěvci jsou jak ptáci;
kdo hodil po něm kamenem,
k těm víc se nenavrací.
Soud boží na se národ zve,
jenž pěvce své ctít neví,
a nejstrašnější kletbou jest,
když bůh odejmul zpěvy.
Jeť srdce pěvců nejčistší
a všeho hněvu prosté,
a co vám zpíval od srdce,
to ve svém srdci noste.
Don't throw against the prohets stones!
Like birds they pardon never,
You lift your hand and they are gone
And stay away forever.
Doomed are the people who betray
Their singers and their duty,
The Lord will take the songs away,
They'll wither without beauty.
Pure is the singer in his heart,
No anger mars his measure.
And what he gives you in his art
You in your heart should treasure !
from Večerní písně [= Evening Songs], 1879, no. 2.
The text is by the Czech poet Vitezslav Halek (1835-1874); the English translation by Jan Sliwinski, is perhaps rather free, but metrical and therefore singable; there are also German and Italian versions - but please use the Czech ! It is here quoted from the score published by Supraphon, Prague, s.a., nr. H 2844
