Odilon Redon - si Rumi, despre vesnicul Huuu

Un panou faurit de Odilon Redon, aflat acum la Rijksmuseum. Micile vietati care se misca printre flori, frunze, pietris. Oricine ii apartine Domnului, Domnul ii apartine. Se spune ca Mohamed ar fi spus. Micile vietati, rasufland usor si neregulat, suntem noi, fiinte fragile si tematoare, parca mereu gata sa ne evaporam, iesiti din vesnicul Huuu.

Muhammed is said to have said,

Whoever belongs to God, God belongs to.

Our weak, uneven breathings,

these dissolving personalities,

were breathed out by the eternal

Huuuuuuuu, that never changes!

A drop of water constantly fears

that it may evaporate into the air,

or be absorbed by the ground.

It doesn't want to be used up

in those ways, but when it lets go

and falls into the ocean it came from,

it finds protection from the other deaths.

Its droplet form is gone,

but its watery essence has become

vast and inviolable.

Listen to me, friends, because you

are a drop, and you can honor yourselves

in this way. What could be luckier

than to have the ocean come

to court the drop?

For God's sake, don't postpone your yes!

Give up and become the giver.

(Rumi)

Odilon Redon - Guardian Spirit of the Waters

Un poem creat de Rumi

meditat in fata imaginii Duhului Pazitor al Apelor

Little tiny drops of water contain the world

I can’t see them but I know they’re there

A billion angels not only dance on the head of a pin

they carry it through the heavens

on the shoulders of a billion more angels

also dancing on heads of pins

carried on a billion more angel shoulders

ad infinitum

all to an uncanny but also unreproducible music

that may be

Allah’s actual breath

or

the bells and flutes

played by hosts of other angels

ranged in orchestras of Light

which I also cannot see

but which I also know are there

along with gardens of Paradise

winding through valleys of a beauty so dazzling

one quick tiny blink of squinted look of our earthly eyes

through our interlaced fingers

maybe even behind dark glasses

would make us swoon a hundred years

or more just one digital flick of our ocular apprehension

actually witnessing such a place for itself

might make our hearts burst out of our chests

with its unutterable gorgeousness

so all these things which I can’t see

all these whispers of truths

and expenditures of credulity

all these things we talk about or avoid talking

about beginning with God’s reality or unreality

and going even to our little baby finger

and wondering how it came about

to being so perfect just as it is

and especially when

either

wiggling freely in the air almost by itself

or

able to reach a place in our eyelid

to dislodge an eyelash

while we watch it in a mirror

I mean just look all around and inside us

if you want proofs of these things

one glimpse there also with their fantastic rainbow bridges

arcing across chasms of scintillating light

or canyons of glass

with herds of grazing fabulous animals in them

chewing bright grasses

while looking with their deep black innocent eyes

making tiny vapor drops of breath

around their nostrils

each one of which contains a world

(Icon and Orthodoxy)

Odilon Redon - Red Boat with Blue Sail

Who was it that came to me in a boat made of dream-fire?

(Sri Aurobindo)

In love, nothing exists between heart and heart.
Speech is born out of longing,
True description from the real taste.
The one who tastes, knows;
the one who explains, lies.
(Rabia al Basri, 717-801)
In dragoste nimic nu sta intre doua inimi
Vorba e nascuta din dor,
Cunoasterea adevarata numai din ce gusti tu insuti,
Cunoaste cel care gusta;
Iar cel care explica, minte.

Genji:
May the course of our love be clear
as the waters of yonder lake,
from which, in the spring sunshine,
the last clot of ice has melted away.
Murasaki:
On the bright mirror of these waters
I see stretched out the cloudless years
love hold for us in store.
(Murasaki Shikibu, 978-1025 - Genji Monogatari)

(Sufi)

Flower Clouds - Be Lost in the Call

Incercare de a medita poemul lui Rumi in fata Norilor de Flori ai lui Odilon Redon

Odilon Redon - Flower Clouds

Rumi - Be Lost in the Call

Lord, said David, since you do not need us,

why did you create these two worlds?

Reality replied: O prisoner of time,

I was a secret treasure of kindness and generosity,

and I wished this treasure to be known,

so I created a mirror:

its shining face, the heart;

its darkened back, the world;

The back would please you if you've never seen the face.

Has anyone ever produced a mirror out of mud and straw?

Yet clean away the mud and straw, and a mirror might be revealed.
Until the juice ferments a while in the cask,

it isn't wine.

If you wish your heart to be bright,

you must do a little work.

My King addressed the soul of my flesh:

You return just as you left.

Where are the traces of my gifts?

We know that alchemy transforms copper into gold.

This Sun doesn't want a crown or robe from God's grace.

He is a hat to a hundred bald men,

a covering for ten who were naked.

Jesus sat humbly on the back of an ass, my child!

How could a zephyr ride an ass?

Spirit, find your way, in seeking lowness like a stream.

Reason, tread the path of selflessness into eternity.

Remember God so much that you are forgotten.

Let the caller and the called disappear;

be lost in the Call.

Lasa-te pierdut in sanul Chemarii

Doamne, spuse David, nevoie de noi Tu nu ai,

Dece atunci aste doua Lumi faurit-ai?

Raspuns dadu Realitatea: o, rob al Timpului ...

Sunt o comoara tainica de blandete si de marinimie,

Comoara cunoscuta am voit sa o fac,

Asa ca faurit-am o oglinda: fata ei stralucitoare este inima;

cea intunecata, lumea;

Iar spatele oglinzii ti-ar multumi de nu i-ai zari niciodata fata.

A faurit cineva vreodata vreo oglinda din noroi si pulbere?

Curata-le deci, si noroiul, si pulberea,

Si vei vedea oglinda.
Dar seama tine: pana ce mustul nu fierbe oleaca,

Vin nu e vinul, doar must.

Asa ca de voiesti ca inima sa-ti fie luminoasa,

Iti trebuie un pic de osteneala.

Imparatul meu a intrebat sufletul carnii mele:

Te intorci asa cum ai plecat,

Unde sunt urmele darurilor mele?

Stim ca alchimia din arama aur face.

Soarele, el nici coroana nu vrea,

Si nici vestmant, sa-i fie faurite din harul divin.

El este ca o palarie mare

Pentru o suta de oameni chei,

Acopera zece care-s dezbracati.

Iisus a stat smerit pe spinarea unui asin, copile!

Cum ar putea zefirul sa calareasca un magar?

Duhule, gaseste-ti drumul, cautand smerenia precum suvoiul apei.

Iar tu, Gandire, croieste-ti pasul identitatii tale intru ale vesniciei.

Aminteste-i Domnului mult, mult, ca te-ai lasat pierdut.

Lasa-i pe Cel ce cheama si pe cel chemat sa dispara,

Lasa-te pierdut in sanul Chemarii.

(Sufi)

The Journey of René Magritte from Giorgio de Chirico to Odilon Redon

The journey of René Magritte started from the universe of Giorgio de Chirico. There is no wonder, as the Metaphysical Interiors of de Chirico contain within themselves so many directions the twentieth century art would take, from surrealism to pop.

Look at Magritte's La Traversée Difficile (the left image), painted in 1926, and then look at de Chirico's Metaphysical Interior (the top image), done in 1916.

The hero of Magritte, his ambiguous bilboquet, is placed as an observer into the metaphysical world of de Chirico: world of ambiguous objects that could be anything, even gates to other worlds. A universe of universes, perhaps our own, as we are living surrounded by objects that can be just theatrical masks, or windows towards the infinite, or maybe both.
There is another version of La Traversée Difficile, made in 1963 (the bottom image). I saw it on the monograph of Suzi Gablik (where I discovered also the painting of de Chirico). I looked for both of them on the web, without having success. I found all kind of Difficult Crossings and Metaphysical Interiors, but the versions from 1963 and 1916. Eventually I asked a colleague to scan them both from the book of Suzy Gablik - so I was able to insert them here.
The version from 1963 is far from the one made in 1929. The bilboquet became an anthropomorphic spectator, dressed in a black suit, wearing a white shirt and a tie - the way the typical character of Magritte was dressed - his head remained the one of the bilboquet, only the eye became ominous. And the universe was reduced to the essentials. The objects -gates to other worlds - opened and all worlds joined together.


The version of 1963 had no more to do with Giorgio de Chirico. It was rather a replica to Vision, the charcoal drawing of Odilon Redon. The works of Redon were compared to the poetry of Baudelaire. A lone wolf, like Puvis de Chavannes, his contemporary, he created with his lithographs a dream world situated beyond the visible. Redon's Vision is looking at you the way saints from Byzantine icons are looking.

And Magritte made the whole journey back in time, from Giorgio de Chirico to Odilon Redon.

(René Magritte)