Theo Jansen – and his Strandbeesten (Dutch for “beach beasts”) art in motion –

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Theo Jansen

– and his Strandbeesten

(Dutch for “beach beasts”) art in motion –

About art… one never ceases to be astonished !

As said by my dear friend Louise F. – The ingenuity of this artist,
 is a marvel, and his museum is simply … the beach.

À propos d’art… on ne cesse pas d’être étonné!

Pour citer ma chère amie Louise F. – L’ingéniosité de cet artiste,
 est une merveille! Et son musée est tout simplement… la plage.

SINCE 1990 JASEN HAS BEEN CREATING
A NEW FORM OF ART IN MOTION
THAT LIVES ON THE BEACH

Jansen is a planar leg mechanism designed by the kinetic sculptor Theo Jansen to generate a smooth walking motion. Jansen has used his mechanism in a variety of kinetic sculptures which are known as Strandbeesten (Dutch for “beach beasts”). Jansen’s linkage bears artistic as well as mechanical merit for its simulation of organic walking motion using a simple rotary input. These leg mechanisms have applications in mobile robotics and in gait analysis.

“ A Day In A Life ” – to live as tho twice –

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“ A Day In A Life ”

         – to live as tho twice –

If I could but live

A day in a life,

Where such be a day

I could feel free,

To hense so display

Whole thus I be,

As today I’ve not wept

‘Tis a day of all days

For euphoria I’ve kept,

Fixed this day be a guide

Hence that I now can see,

For my life until I died…

 

Such a day in a life

Would be sway,

For the way to a day

One finds glory be,

And you learn to let go

To feel what you see,

With the birth of it all

Like a bursting of buds,

On a flowering tree

As spring yawns away,

And dawn’s early hours

Heading towards May,

To a first summer’s day…

 

Yet all of the while

You’ve but time

The gods lend,

Hence a day in a life

From beginning to end

You must live as tho twice,

For that may be all

You were given of life!

                                                  © Jean-Jacques Fournier

                                                                        written in Vence, Fr.

                        Music – Orfeu Negro, from Brazil…

 

“ When Memory Fails ” – held in time will –

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“ When Memory Fails ”

                  – held in time will –

When memory fails

As held in time will,

You’ll find it pales

Said ‘tis all but still,

Tho we’ll so falter

Must find to bide,

In kindly shelter

Until subsides,

Its weary burden

As one tries hide,

Ways it’ll worsen

In destined slide,

Of a dying mind

Be receding use,

Far beyond find

Now so abstruse,

While shy of time

As recall hides,

In its seclusion

Tho one is to abide,

When memory fails

In its retched mental prison,

Time wants tell to say goodbye!

 

                               ode to victims of failed memory…

                                                   © Jean-Jacques Fournier

       Music, of Erik Satie – Gnossienne 1, by Otto Tolonen, guitar

 

“ The Book ” – of blank pages –

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  An author’s torment – revisited

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“ The Book ”

         – of blank pages –

A book in search

Of giving birth,

To pages blank,

Free of dearth

Hopes but record,

View so composed

Of words in accord,

To author predisposed

Might ease the way,

That dares initiate

A scribe’s want say,

Without hesitate

When he finds a play,

Empty of intimidate

Upon a virgin page,

The while a book awaits

Words chosen to breathe life,

To the uninhabited posed state

Held be the book, of blank pages!

 

                                    © Jean-Jacques Fournier

                                                     Written in Roma, It. 2013

      Music, Gymnopédie No.1 – Erik Satie …

 

 

“ The Man ” – of two glasses –

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“ The Man ”

       – of two glasses –

He sits to face

Across the table,

An empty space

Tho hardly able,

From time ago

The chair since bare,

Remains aglow,

To still reflect

The face he loved,

There upon the glass

Of a pale rosé…

 

Each forlorn day

In vain he stares,

With musing’s say

One can near feel

Her presence there,    

His mind will trace

Upon that empty chair,

A memory of her face                                                

That will not part

That special place,

Fixed in his heart…

 

Alas the man

Said of two glasses,

Sits so to face

As time so passes,

That empty space

He for a moment dwells,

On a memory only he can tell!

                                                © Jean-Jacques Fournier

remembering the sadness of an habitué,

chez Lou Fassum’s grand dining,

on la Côte dAzur, France …

written in Grasse, November of 2006  

Music, Misty by Stan Getz

   

“ My Bibliotheca ” – from old scribes, to new books –

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Picture, Benedictine Monastery library founded in 1074.

Music, Book The Rental With It, by Rage

“ My Bibliotheca ”

                  – from old scribes,

                                to new books –

I’ve a library

Overflows,

With books

I’ve read,

While some

Want doze,

Tho be tale

Old that flows,

To ones soul

And so wait,

For old eyes

To be fed,

A said read

Afore avid dies…

 

I’ve books

In my veins,

That beg

Till it pains,

To be written

In stead,

Of poems

I’ve bled,

Would imbue

Near all said,

Tells it true

Of held books,

Be page anew

From birth,

Reaching out

Fated to end,

In man’s final berth!

             ode per se, to books held in one’s library…

                                           © Jean-Jacques Fournier

“ A Joy ” – imagined –

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Art, The Joy of Life, Henri Matisse

Music, Kai Engel, Cabetet

“ A Joy ”

      – imagined –

A joy extant infers

Fate lets attain,

I find imagine

What ought contain,

Stuff be of dreams

Imaging the silken,

Rather than lined

In matters coarse,

Though often times

Joy be dark horse,

To masquerade

Masked as a rose,

In joyless shade,

Wanting but dispose…

 

Yet be this joy

Illusion’s dope,

Thirsting to enjoy

We live in hope,

Yet sadly fantasize

In musings empty,

Waiting joy incites

A moment of delight

To more than but survive!

                        A young man’s search recalling joy…

                                                © Jean-Jacques Fournier

“ Life Is But A Minute ” – held implied as a lifetime –

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“ Life Is But A Minute ”

              – held implied as a lifetime –

The Journey starts

Tho soon too fast,

And way off chart

Predestined cast,

Scarce one recalls

What life is to last,

The span of its all

Save less ye forget,

Said be our lifeline

This nascence day,

Thus a minute past

Had found its way,

A birth ye may ask,

As it came together

Seeks its short stay,

In echo of ones other…

 

Life soon will wither

While none to waste

Pardon my rancour,

Of they who crowd

Or find to anchor,

On my fleeting pace

With so little living,

I reason make haste…

 

With hint to soon rest,

Lying neath memories

Of its life’s alleged fest,

My back to its epitaph

For all who have been,

Knew well to find daft

Held implied as a lifetime,

Denies life is but a minute!

                                 © Jean-Jacques Fournier

              Music, One Minute Waltz, (1847) Fryderyk Chopin

“ A Vortex ” – has ye bound –

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   Painting, Cavalier Michele Federico, early 1900s

              Music, Kai Engel –Brand New World…

“ A Vortex ”

            – has ye bound –

Held the mind

Is as a vortex,

Of firm define

In ones cortex,

That be vassal

Has us bound,

Yet bedazzled

In otiose sound,

Will so frazzle

While ‘tis said

Sets a ground,

That unfolds

For its ascent,

Aims behold

Fated meant,

To be so bold

In bid chance,

Ye are in wake

Of life’s dance,

Young or old

To find taste,

While it holds

For too soon

We are waste,

To be strewn

Without grace,

As out of tune

Thus to find face,

For underground

Option said place,

Short on rebound

Despite vortex mind,

That alleges has ye bound!

                                                         © Jean-Jacques Fournier

                                                                     June 2020

 

“ I Am The Colour ” – of human disorder –

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“ I Am The Colour ”            

                    – of human disorder –

I am the colour

Of human disorder,

That shades the stay

Of man made suffer,

While held at bay

Be cause of such pallor,

In ominous way

With spurious cover,

Feigning fair play

To thus be so coloured,

With doubtful recover

For fated mankind,

Bears not colour’s assign…

 

I an the colour,

Of human disorder!

             © Jean-Jacques Fournier

Music, Dark Cloud…