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fantomao
16 December 2008 @ 07:39 am
Reece Mews: The Studio of Francis Bacon
Photographs of Reece Mews by Perry Ogden

For thirty years Francis Bacon lived worked in Reece Mews, a former coach house located in a Victorian mews in the London borough of South Kensington. It was here he produced many of his greatest paintings. Years, after his death the studio remained uninhabited and untouched exactly as he had left it.

The flat was very simple. On the ground floor, were what used to be the stables, which had in recent times been used for storage. Upstairs, which was where he lived, was accessed by a very steeply inclined wooden staircase - rather like an Amsterdam house staircase - and you had to negotiate those stairs with the help of a rather greasy, thick rope, taking the role of a banister, up the side.

When you reached the top, you were on a little landing. The landing had a toilet and a kitchen. The kitchen also had a bath in it. So it was a kitchen-bathroom. And if it was cold, Francis would light the gas oven and leave the door open, so that having a bath wouldn't be too unpleasant. Even when he was at the very height of his celebrity and wealth, this was the pattern.

To the left of that, was a bedroom, with a table and chairs and a sofa, and his few books. Very simple; it reminded me of the kind of way that an ex-soldier, or a former prisoner might live. Simple, modest, very unassuming, very focused. Then, you crossed the landing, and there was this tiny but dense and intense room, with a window at either end and a skylight where he painted. And there was just enough room in the center of this topography of chaos for him to stand and paint the canvases. And that seemed to work for him very well. It was a very efficient little room for working in.

Brian Clarke 2006





Reece Mews: The Studio of Francis Bacon
Photographs of Reece Mews by Perry Ogden

For thirty years Francis Bacon lived worked in Reece Mews, a former coach house located in a Victorian mews in the London borough of South Kensington. It was here he produced many of his greatest paintings. Years, after his death the studio remained uninhabited and untouched exactly as he had left it.

The flat was very simple. On the ground floor, were what used to be the stables, which had in recent times been used for storage. Upstairs, which was where he lived, was accessed by a very steeply inclined wooden staircase - rather like an Amsterdam house staircase - and you had to negotiate those stairs with the help of a rather greasy, thick rope, taking the role of a banister, up the side.

When you reached the top, you were on a little landing. The landing had a toilet and a kitchen. The kitchen also had a bath in it. So it was a kitchen-bathroom. And if it was cold, Francis would light the gas oven and leave the door open, so that having a bath wouldn't be too unpleasant. Even when he was at the very height of his celebrity and wealth, this was the pattern.

To the left of that, was a bedroom, with a table and chairs and a sofa, and his few books. Very simple; it reminded me of the kind of way that an ex-soldier, or a former prisoner might live. Simple, modest, very unassuming, very focused. Then, you crossed the landing, and there was this tiny but dense and intense room, with a window at either end and a skylight where he painted. And there was just enough room in the center of this topography of chaos for him to stand and paint the canvases. And that seemed to work for him very well. It was a very efficient little room for working in.

Brian Clarke 2006



Reece Mews: The Studio of Francis Bacon
Photographs of Reece Mews by Perry Ogden

For thirty years Francis Bacon lived worked in Reece Mews, a former coach house located in a Victorian mews in the London borough of South Kensington. It was here he produced many of his greatest paintings. Years, after his death the studio remained uninhabited and untouched exactly as he had left it.

The flat was very simple. On the ground floor, were what used to be the stables, which had in recent times been used for storage. Upstairs, which was where he lived, was accessed by a very steeply inclined wooden staircase - rather like an Amsterdam house staircase - and you had to negotiate those stairs with the help of a rather greasy, thick rope, taking the role of a banister, up the side.

When you reached the top, you were on a little landing. The landing had a toilet and a kitchen. The kitchen also had a bath in it. So it was a kitchen-bathroom. And if it was cold, Francis would light the gas oven and leave the door open, so that having a bath wouldn't be too unpleasant. Even when he was at the very height of his celebrity and wealth, this was the pattern.

To the left of that, was a bedroom, with a table and chairs and a sofa, and his few books. Very simple; it reminded me of the kind of way that an ex-soldier, or a former prisoner might live. Simple, modest, very unassuming, very focused. Then, you crossed the landing, and there was this tiny but dense and intense room, with a window at either end and a skylight where he painted. And there was just enough room in the center of this topography of chaos for him to stand and paint the canvases. And that seemed to work for him very well. It was a very efficient little room for working in.

Brian Clarke 2006



Reece Mews: The Studio of Francis Bacon
Photographs of Reece Mews by Perry Ogden

For thirty years Francis Bacon lived worked in Reece Mews, a former coach house located in a Victorian mews in the London borough of South Kensington. It was here he produced many of his greatest paintings. Years, after his death the studio remained uninhabited and untouched exactly as he had left it.

The flat was very simple. On the ground floor, were what used to be the stables, which had in recent times been used for storage. Upstairs, which was where he lived, was accessed by a very steeply inclined wooden staircase - rather like an Amsterdam house staircase - and you had to negotiate those stairs with the help of a rather greasy, thick rope, taking the role of a banister, up the side.

When you reached the top, you were on a little landing. The landing had a toilet and a kitchen. The kitchen also had a bath in it. So it was a kitchen-bathroom. And if it was cold, Francis would light the gas oven and leave the door open, so that having a bath wouldn't be too unpleasant. Even when he was at the very height of his celebrity and wealth, this was the pattern.

To the left of that, was a bedroom, with a table and chairs and a sofa, and his few books. Very simple; it reminded me of the kind of way that an ex-soldier, or a former prisoner might live. Simple, modest, very unassuming, very focused. Then, you crossed the landing, and there was this tiny but dense and intense room, with a window at either end and a skylight where he painted. And there was just enough room in the center of this topography of chaos for him to stand and paint the canvases. And that seemed to work for him very well. It was a very efficient little room for working in.

Brian Clarke 2006



Reece Mews: The Studio of Francis Bacon
Photographs of Reece Mews by Perry Ogden

For thirty years Francis Bacon lived worked in Reece Mews, a former coach house located in a Victorian mews in the London borough of South Kensington. It was here he produced many of his greatest paintings. Years, after his death the studio remained uninhabited and untouched exactly as he had left it.

The flat was very simple. On the ground floor, were what used to be the stables, which had in recent times been used for storage. Upstairs, which was where he lived, was accessed by a very steeply inclined wooden staircase - rather like an Amsterdam house staircase - and you had to negotiate those stairs with the help of a rather greasy, thick rope, taking the role of a banister, up the side.

When you reached the top, you were on a little landing. The landing had a toilet and a kitchen. The kitchen also had a bath in it. So it was a kitchen-bathroom. And if it was cold, Francis would light the gas oven and leave the door open, so that having a bath wouldn't be too unpleasant. Even when he was at the very height of his celebrity and wealth, this was the pattern.

To the left of that, was a bedroom, with a table and chairs and a sofa, and his few books. Very simple; it reminded me of the kind of way that an ex-soldier, or a former prisoner might live. Simple, modest, very unassuming, very focused. Then, you crossed the landing, and there was this tiny but dense and intense room, with a window at either end and a skylight where he painted. And there was just enough room in the center of this topography of chaos for him to stand and paint the canvases. And that seemed to work for him very well. It was a very efficient little room for working in.

Brian Clarke 2006





 

 

 

 
 
 
fantomao
16 December 2008 @ 02:02 am
takoedelo

Смотри: экономя усилья,
под взглядом седых мастеров,
работает токарь Васильев,
работает слесарь Петров.

А в сумрачном доме напротив
директор счета ворошит,
сапожник горит на работе,
приемщик копиркой шуршит.

Орудует дворник лопатой,
и летчик гудит в высоте,
поэт, словно в чем виноватый,
слагает стихи о труде.

О, как мы работаем! Словно
одна трудовая семья.
Работает Марья Петровна,
с ней рядом работаю я.
Работают в каждом киоске,
работают в каждом окне.

Один не работает Бродский,
все больше он нравится мне.

И.Б. 1964


ссылка
 
 
fantomao
07 February 2008 @ 08:34 am
ребята!этот жж я буду использовать,как вторую ленту для чтения(1000 френдов мне мало).если возникнет желание дружить,то можно включать в дузья жж m0desta,там будут взаимные.
 
 
fantomao
13 November 2007 @ 05:49 pm
дорогие друзья,уважаемые френды!по техническим причинам я перешел в жж m0desta,
кому интересно,милости прошу!
 
 
fantomao
25 August 2007 @ 02:25 pm
поплывут из майами обратно?
 
 
 
fantomao
23 August 2007 @ 01:45 pm
СОН В ОСЕННЮЮ НОЧЬ НА ДАЧЕ В АРКАДИИ

1

Один.
Лежу и ясно слышу,
как сыплется туман на крышу,
как сыплется туман на листья,
как с листьев сыплется в траву,
сову бесшумную услышу.

2

Гудит ревун. Далекий звук,
как будто осторожный стук,
как будто вкрадчивое слово..
секунду помолчал.. и снова.

3

Гудит ревун.
Сны льются в явь, явь льется в сны,
и в точке из соединенья
рождаются цветы весны на диких яблоках осенних,
и чей-то щшепот, быстрый, робкий,
смывает тихая волна,
и стук весла - глухой, короткий,
весла, поднятого со дна
нагретой солнцем старой лодки.

4

Лодки..

5

Был полдень.
Пристань.
Шум и смех.
Шуршали платья, колыхались ленты.
Садились в лодки. Приглашали всех.
И лаял пес,
на берегу забытый кем-то.

6

Садились в лодки и глядели вниз:
в зеленой темной тишине между столбами,
лениво плавниками шевеля, задумчиво ходили рыбы..
Уключин скрип, и взмах весла,
и плеск и смех..
Поплыли.

7

Плыли между сверкающих медуз,
под рыжей синевой, под солнцем рыжим,
и с каждым всплеском горизонт все ближе
становилося, ближе..
 
 
fantomao
23 August 2007 @ 10:22 am
в этом году осени не будет,это лето закончится и сразу следующее начнется
 
 
 
 
fantomao
20 August 2007 @ 01:16 pm
* * *

Плащ широк и заношен до лоска,
и лоснится от пота лицо;
босоножки, брюки в полоску
на мизинце стальное кольцо.
Меж акаций на подступах к пляжу
ходит-бродит, глаза опустив,
будто мелкую ищет пропажу.
Время за полдень. Тихо… Прилив
начинается. Зной в самой силе:
глянешь в тень — не увидишь ни зги;
воздух сух, точно печь отворили…
только — чу! раздаются шаги.
С беспорядочной, бешеной прытью
сердце рвется на стук каблуков;
улыбаясь, идет из укрытья;
плащ растегнут, запахнут — готов.

За не самый большой из пороков,
за прелюбы средней руки
платит твердой ценою пророков:
поношенье, побои, плевки.
Зато ночью, когда, обмирая,
по наклонной съезжает он в сон,
в изголовье встает образ рая —
солнцем залитый стадион.
Все, кто был хоть однажды помечен
его взглядом, кого хоть на миг
зацепил, — все явились на встречу.
И, как знать, может быть, среди них
ты, любовь моя: пленницей-гостьей —
задыхаясь, горя, трепеща —
ждешь, когда на высоком помосте
врозь разъедутся полы плаща…
 
 
fantomao
20 August 2007 @ 11:49 am
в Крыму срочно госпитализирован известный российский актер Александр Абдулов. Он был направлен в больницу города Севастополя.
пока нет точной информации, что именно случилось с А.Абдуловым. Есть данные, что у него якобы неожиданно открылась язва желудка, однако официального подтверждения пока нет.
Также в ряде украинских СМИ сообщалось, что уже ночью актеру была сделана операция, и сейчас его жизни ничто не угрожает.
А.Абдулов находится в западной части Крыма на съемках нового фильма.
 
 
fantomao
19 August 2007 @ 06:42 pm
я встал рано,так как был бригадиром,а если бригадир любит поспать,
то он может уже не бригадирить,а спать себе дальше...
нужно было перевезти витражи из мастерской на объект - дом цыганского барона Червони,
вот и топал по спящему городу.
раньше меня выходили на свои пятиминутки только ребята из группировок,
в это утро их много как-то было,на каждом углу.
кроме того,часто попадались люди с коробками в руках.
на коробках были нарисованы японские видики и музцентры.людей этих становилось все больше и они явно торопились.
потом я понял,это тем,кто сдал технику в "свои" комиссионки,поднятые из постели хозяева открывали магазины и отдавали товар.
в мастерской работал телевизор.женщина,волнуясь,зачитывала обращение ГКЧП.
как раз интересное место про дачные участки...
- наши действия со всей этой милихой?спросил Валик,по прозвищу Убийца,вообще-то бригадиром был он,
но заменжевался работать с цыганами и меня уболтали на этот горячий участок,
-грузите по-быстрому,сказал я,пока она дочитает,мы на месте будем...
погрузили витражи:танцующие Кармен с красными цветами в черных волосах и другие подобные сюжеты.
у цыган уже не спали:из раскрытых ворот выезжали КАМазы,на подножках стояли дети Червони...
- все.теперь он бабки сольет,можно обратно ехать,сказал Валик.
- ладно,ждите,я пошел во двор,где стояли два новых дома(4 уровня вверх,2 вниз плюс гаражи)
Червоня был самый толстый цыган в мире,он сидел на диване,ел виноград и смотрел два больших телевизора,в одном индийский фильм,в другом - биржевые сводки CNN
- привет,чего говорят, - спрсил я Червоню,он медленно повел своими удивленными глазами
- говорят,кушай виноград,и он кивнул на белую кузнецовскую вазу с черным виноградом "изабелла"(он был из образованных цыган,в молодости бывал в домах известных актеров и музыкантов)
- не,серьезно,че там...?
- да ниче,Горбачев в Крыму,все в дыму...
- витражи там привезли,ты как…?
- что «как»,приступайте к работе!
- рассчитываться будешь?
- расчитываться?сейчас,понимаешь,Серый,денег нет,сам видишь - какая заваруха…
- ну,мы тогда поехали,Артуру продадим.
- как продашь,а размеры?
- он как раз двери меняет,заходил к нам,видел,очень такую Кармен хочет!
- Кармен!?щас ему коммунисты сделают Кармен!ладно,ты кофе пьешь?
- утром только.
- кофе могу дать,возьмешь?
я блефовал,он это видел,деваться было некуда и я согласился.
кофе был в жестяных банках с танцовщицей на этикетке,по 25 банок в плоском ящике,Ящиков набралось примерно с пол-Камаза.
- продукты питания,врубаешься?спросил на прощание Червоня.
- врубаюсь.как думаешь,кто теперь будет?
- Ельцин,больше некому.
мы поделили кофе с ребятами.следующие лет 10 я его и пил и дарил и взятки давал,а куча ящиков в гараже все не кончалась,недавно только закончилась.
в принципе,все довольны остались…
 
 
 
fantomao
15 August 2007 @ 04:22 pm
xxx: Так значит у тебя красивые и длиные ножки ?
yyy: аха)))
xxx: А дальше?
yyy: а дальше обувь и асфальт)))
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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