Archive for the ‘Art’ Category

Houston’s Shakespeare Pub   Leave a comment

Texas Johnny Brown at Houston’s Shakespeare Pub — Photo-Artistry by kenne 
(Click on Texas Johnny Brown to see archived blog posting on TJB)

Texas Johnny Brown is a major talent who simmered on the blues scene longer than all the beef stew cooked in the ’40s, the decade when he first began playing and recording. Like pianist Johnny Johnson of St. Louis, Brown is an artist who did not get a chance to record a full album as a leader until he had been in the music business more than half-a-century. Also like Johnson, the results of coming in so late in the game have been a pair of highly acclaimed, prize-winning albums including the righteous Blues Defender. Brown can take plenty of the credit, since he has taken over almost complete control of his ow arranging, production, and mixing, as well as the string bending and blues moaning. He began his career as a sideman for the Duke and Peacock outfits in the ’50s about which discographers make comments such as “… the record keeping at that time was less than desirable.” As a result, some of Brown’s playing on releases by artists such as Lightnin’ Hopkins and Joe Hinton remains uncredited. The guitarist, singer, and songwriter began his professional career as an original member of the great Amos Milburn band known as the Aladdin Chickenshackers. Brown’s picking is killer on early Aladdin recordings by both Milburn, and on Ruth Brown’s first Atlantic sides. Atlantic allowed Brown to make a few recordings of his own in 1949, buoyed by the enthusiasm the label had for Milburn, who played behind his sideman on these sessions along with the rest of the Aladdin Chickenshackers. T-Bone Walker is the dominating force in Brown’s stylistic palette, an influence that was considered something of a driving permit for any guitarist venturing out of Houston during this period. Before finally getting the biggie recording opportunities in the late ’90s, Brown did an ARC session in Houston in the early ’50s that was never released. He also performed regularly with Junior Parker during that decade, remaining based out of Houston. As a songwriter, Brown’s most famous work is “Two Steps from the Blues,” a big hit for Bobby “Blue” Bland, with whom he also toured as a lead guitarist in the ’50s and ’60s. By the ’80s, he was considered only sporadically active on the blues scene, but this turned out to be only a temporary brown-out, so to speak.

— Eugene Chadbourne Source: allmusic.com

Watercolor Painting   1 comment

Watercolor Painting by Katie Turner Bailey 

Watercolor is like life.
Better get it right the first time–
you don’t get a second chance!

— Sergei Bongart

Meditation on Ceremonies of Beginnings   3 comments

Fancy Dancer by Ethel Mortenson Davis

. . . I have been following Thomas Davis’ blog since 2012, and feel so fortunate to have found his blog.
“With billions of humans on this earth, it’s not easy to connect with poets who express the
human experience so worthy of being a poet’s poet. Thomas can open the door to why we exist!”

Meditation on Ceremonies of Beginnings — The Tribal College and World Indigenous Nations Higher
Education Consortium Poems was recently by Tribal College Press. Davis sees the book of poems as
“an introduction to the tribal college movement and the world of Indigenous nations.”

These poems tell the story of the tribal college movement. Davis writes, “They record history in a different way.
History is not just made up of facts and events, as momentous as those events may be, but also of
emotions, dreams, striving, failing, tragedy, struggling against long odds, laughter, joy, and
personalities that make significant differences even as those contributions are lost when
historians begin to shuffle through dust bins of primary sources.

In March, 2003, Robert Martin invited Davis to Tohono O’odham in southern Arizona.
While there, he wrote “A Visit to Tohono O’odham Community College
as It is Being Born, 2/6/03.”

Thomas Davis Source: Green Bay Press-Gazette

The poem begins:

Perry Horse said,
looking out to saguaro cactus, palo verde trees, bone-
white trunk of an eucalyptus tree, brown dryness of
desert, steep dirt sides of an arroyo,
“can you smell this place?
It smells different from your country with its trees, big
water, and winter’s deep cold.”
The arroyo channeled toward large skirts of a
mountain
that raised brown earth, dark rock into rare clouds
that looked as if they might hold rain.
Green smells of Tohono O’odham Nation were as
pale as trunks of the palo verde trees.

The last paragraph in the poem reads:

American has always been a nation of peoples, of
nations.
In desert air at night
stars hover bright and close to dark mountains
that shine and breathe
as we sing
into another time.

Davis, 74, lives in Sturgeon Bay and is the author of the award-winning novel 
“In the Unsettled Homeland of Dreams,” and other works.
He still serves in leadership roles at several tribal colleges.

— kenne

Backwater Fishing   Leave a comment

Backwater Fishing — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in.
I drink at it; but while I drink I see
the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is.
Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains.

— Henry David Thoreau

1492   1 comment

Man In Boat Window — Photo-Artistry by kenne

1492

Thou two-faced year, Mother of Change and Fate,
Didst weep when Spain cast forth with flaming sword,
The children of the prophets of the Lord,
Prince, priest, and people, spurned by zealot hate.
Hounded from sea to sea, from state to state,
The West refused them, and the East abhorred.
No anchorage the known world could afford,
Close-locked was every port, barred every gate.
Then smiling, thou unveil’dst, O two-faced year,
A virgin world where doors of sunset part,
Saying, “Ho, all who weary, enter here!
There falls each ancient barrier that the art
Of race or creed or rank devised, to rear
Grim bulwarked hatred between heart and heart!”

— Emma Lazarus

Posted January 31, 2021 by kenneturner in Art, Information, Photo-Artistry, Poetry

Tagged with , ,

Southern Arizona Fence Line   1 comment

Southern Arizona Fence Line — Photo-Artistic by kenne

I would like to write a poem about the world
that has in it, nothing fancy

Like our travels, our workdays
burned upon the world.

And forgetting everything I will leap to name it
as though for the first time

Turning always in my mind toward you,
your slopes, folds, gentle openings.

As a poem or a prayer, can also make
luminous any dark place on earth.

Maybe we’re necessary to each other,
and this vacant place has need of us both.

Calling us back to why, how and whence
such beauty and what the meaning.

To its joy we come together–the seer
and the seen, the eater and the eaten,
the lover and the loved.

— Mary Oliver & Wendell Berry – A Found Poem
   (Source: Simply Blessed)

A Flight Of Small Cheeping Birds   1 comment

Cedar Waxwings — Photo-Artistry by kenne

To Waken An Old Lady

a flight of small
cheeping birds
skimming
bare trees
above a snow glaze.
Gaining and failing
they are buffeted
by a dark wind—
But what?
On harsh weedstalks
the flock has rested—
the snow
is covered with broken
seed husks
and the wind tempered
with a shrill
piping of plenty.

— William Carlos Williams 

Boat On A Mountain Lake   2 comments

Boat On A Mountain Lake — Photo-Artistry by kenne

The two limits of every unit of thinking
are a perplexed, troubled, or confused situation
at the beginning, and a cleared up, unified,
resolved situation at the close.

— John Dewey

Flowers Outside The Window   1 comment

Flowers Outside the Window — Photo-Artistry by kenne

“They own the window,
You own the view”

 Vineet Raj Kapoor

The Shortest Day   Leave a comment

Hunters in the Snow– painting by Pieter Bruegel the Eider

As we experience the shortest day of the year, Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s painting, “Hunters in the Snow,” is an almost perfect picture of the contrasting scenes we experience this time of year, depicting isolation and melancholy producing a sense that we are being pulled into a silent landscape where the deep drifts of snow where you can “feel the cold and sense the audible dullness as the landscape sucks the sound from every little human vignette.” 

His paintings are beautiful because his compositions make one of the opposites, based on Eli Siegel’s principle of aesthetic realism: “All beauty is a making one of opposites, and the making of one of the opposites is what we are going after in ourselves.”

opposites are one

composing yesteryear’s coldness

stretching through time

standing still in the moment
 

searching the unrestricted

working with opposites

reassuring in sameness
 

emphasizing divergence

promising order

pleasing to self

— kenne

Paulo Still Life   1 comment

Paulo Still Life — Photo-Artistry by kenne

 Nōtan (濃淡)

winter’s sun
casts long shadows
on the shortest day
creating contrasting
values of shape
between objects
and the wall

in turn capturing
my eye
as darkness wins

— kenne

(Nōtan (濃淡) is a Japanese word, meaning dark-light, there is no English language equivalent.
It embodies an ancient Eastern concept, in which all things exist as inseparable and in perfect harmony.)

 

Artist In The Field   Leave a comment

Artist In The Field — Photo-Artistry by kenne

“As the poets and painters of centuries have tried to tell us, art is not about the expression
of talent or the making of pretty things. It is about the preservation and containment of soul.
It is about arresting life and making it available for contemplation. Art captures the eternal
in the everyday, and it is the eternal that feeds soul—the whole world in a grain of sand. Leonardo”

— Thomas Moore (Care of The Soul)

 

Fallen Leaves   Leave a comment

Fallen Leaves On Mt. Lemmon — Photo-Artistry by kenne

In my beginning is my end. Now the light falls
Across the open field, leaving the deep lane
Shuttered with branches, dark in the afternoon,
Where you lean against a bank while a van passes,
And the deep lane insists on the direction
Into the village, in the electric heat
Hypnotised. In a warm haze the sultry light
Is absorbed, not refracted, by grey stone.
The dahlias sleep in the empty silence.
Wait for the early owl.

— from Four Quartets by T. S. Eliot

Half Moon Art   Leave a comment

Near Hutch’s Pool in the Santa Catalina Mountains (11/18/11) — Photo-Artistry by kenne

For what is the moon, that it haunts us,
this impudent companion immigrated
from the system’s less fortunate margins,
the realm of dust collected in orbs?

— from the poem Half Moon, Small Cloud by John Updike

Privilege of Being   Leave a comment

Mastro’s Ocean Club Gourmet Restaurant In The Shops at Crystals at Aria Resort and Casino — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Many are making love. Up above, the angels
in the unshaken ether and crystal of human longing
are braiding one another’s hair, which is strawberry blond
and the texture of cold rivers. They glance
down from time to time at the awkward ecstasy—
it must look to them like featherless birds
splashing in the spring puddle of a bed—
and then one woman, she is about to come,
peels back the man’s shut eyelids and says,
look at me, and he does.

— from Privilege of Being by Robert Hass

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