Showing posts with label Dame Edith Sitwell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dame Edith Sitwell. Show all posts
Thursday, March 10, 2016
Trip Report: Old Familiar Faces
We're home. The dogs, relieved and more than a little vengeful, have been fetched from their pricey hostelry, I've been back to the office, and today I'm taking advantage of a post-flight sore throat to stay home and try to get rested and organized.*
Saturday, October 10, 2015
Mock Time That Flies
Earlier this week we celebrated National Poetry Week, and while I missed out, here, belatedly, is my contribution: Dame Edith Sitwell intoning her hypnotic "Through Gilded Trellises" against Sir William Waton's evocative, spare music from Facade.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Lunch on Olympus
This must have been a rather epic little get-together: visiting Hollywood, apparently the only person whom Dame Edith Sitwell really craved meeting was Miss Monroe. One would long for a transcript of that conversation, the meeting of two Fabulous Monsters, two Geniuses of Neurosis, if only it weren't such an intrusion. He who interrupted them would have risked being turned to stone.
Writing later, Sitwell said that she found in Marilyn "a benevolent dignity" and "extreme intelligence." They seem to have struck, if this photo is to believed, a natural chord of sympathy; not surprising, perhaps, between two such entirely damaged, brilliant, self-constructed persons.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Holy Trinity I
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