Mozartova ogenj in led

24. 1. 2018
by darjin01
V moji glavi je tornado. V prsih se dogaja nekaj čudnega. Nekaj podobnega napadom tesnobe. Nekaj, kar se mi občasno dogaja. V vse, kar počnem v življenju se vržem cela. S celim telesom, s celim srcem in celim bitom. In tako nastane zmešnjava. Za nekaj časa ne živim več v danes in zdaj, ampak v nekem drugem, odrskem svetu. Včasih igrivem in nagajivem, včasih temačnem in črnem.   Če se sprašuješ zakaj sem zmedena, odsotna, drugačna. Zakaj je moj pogled prestrašen in moje misli polne skrbi. Kriv je oder. Gledališče. Kriv je moj fotoaparat, ki je del mene. In moja duša, ki ne zna živeti na pol. To je tisti čas, ko sem preveč ranljiva in preveč občutljiva. Čas, ko ne znam z ljudmi. Čas, ko me preveč skrbi. Čas, ko sem tako utrujena od čustev, da se mi usujejo solze, če me samo pogledaš drugače, kot sicer. Don Giovanni je kriv tokrat. Kriva je glasba. Kriv je Mozart. Njegovo mojstrstvo. Njegova tako čarobna glasba, ki te vzame in odnese. Njegova popolnost. Njegov genij. Krivo je dejstvo, da se v tematiki Don Giovannija lahko najde prav vsak, ki je živel in čutil. Tisti, ki je zapeljeval in zapustil. Tisti, ki […]
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Lahko noč, Ljubljana

21. 1. 2018
by darjin01
V Ljubljani živim že, če usekam takole čez prste, že nekih dvajset let. In več kot polovico tega s stalim naslovom. In prinam, da nisem ravno prava Ljubljančanka. Še vedno se utegnem igubiti. In včasih s težavo priznam, da še glavnih ulic ne lociram prav dobro, Moj izgovor je, da sem pač ženska in ženske z navigacijo in orientacijo nimamo prav veliko skupnega. Vedno sem rekla, da ljubim svoje mesto. To malo, žepno, prestolnico. Nekaj ljubkega ima v sebi. Celo v tistih najbolj sivih dneh, ko ne vidim zelenice pred blokom zaradi goste megle. Takrat si pač rečem, da živim v gradu med oblaki in da so spodaj pod meglo samo zmaji in pošasti, jaz pa sem na varnem nekje skrita v oblakih. Če človek pogleda na stvari z malce otročjim pogledom, je precej lažje. Ljubim ulice, ki se zvečer jauarja povsem izpraznijo in odmevajo koraki od starih zidov in stoletja starih pročelij. Čarobno, mar ne? Seveda je, če je v tebi nekaj malega pravljice in domišljije. Zadnje tedne spoznavam mesto peš. In z avtobusom. Po vseh teh letih, ko e brez avtomobila nisem premaknila od doma, sem ugotovila, da so tisti časi, ko je avtobus pač prišel, ko je […]
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Vedno sem bila ena tistih deklet, ki so skregane z modnimi trendi in je zanje boljše, da se jim ličila skrije, ker sicer iz sebe ustvarijo karikaturo. Ena tistih razbojniških hčera, ki so očijev ponos, ker znajo same zamenjati žarnico na avtomobilu. Namesto s punčkami sem se igrala z radijskimi sprejemniki, ki sem jih razstavila v prafaktorje in je potem, ko sem jih sestavila nazaj, vedno ostal kak vijak. Ampak, če zadeva deluje, je bil očitno nepomemben.  Dandanes je v moji torbici poleg parfuma, zvezkov, kupa svinčnikov, kindla in denarnice, se izvijač, vodna tehtnica in mini baterija. Na življenje imam sicer zelo nemodni pogled. Pač dekle s kmetije z dokaj (morda si pač samo domišljam) treznim in pragmatičnim pogledom na življenje, ki je znala sama popraviti svoj motor in voziti traktor. Ko vidim fračo, ki sedi na kavi in se ukvarja samo s tem, kako ji stoji njen novi oversized fluffy pulover, dvignem levo obrv in se mi dekle pravzaprav malo zasmili. In najraje bi se zaletela v zid, ko kakšna nafrfuljena damica svoje kosmato ščene začne po otročje nagovarjati v stilu: “Mišek pišek, pridi k mamici, da ti da piškotka.” Nezdravo se mi dvigne raven sladkorja v krvi in […]
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DOCTOR ZHIVAGO

10. 11. 2016
by darjin01
Doctor Zhivago, one of the most beautiful and touching love stories in the world of art, is a famous novel by the Russian writer Boris Pasternak, for which he was awarded a Nobel Prize for Literature in 1958. In his outstandingly personal and philosophical story the author also contemplates on different aspects of system and the impact of the Revolution on humans and their social devaluation – the themes that were of course rather inconvenient for the authorities in the then Soviet Union. Therefore, in the face of great pressure put upon him, the writer had to renounce the prestigious prize.  After that his Doctor Zhivago remained rather unwonted at home, where the novel only re-established its true value after the social changes that occurred in the 1990’s. In the meantime, the novel became a huge success in the West, where it was translated into many languages. Particularly exposed in the novel’s renowned British-American film version, directed by David Lean in 1965, was an intimate story about the romance between Doctor Zhivago and Lara, which, after enthralling the audience and the film world alike (and receiving six Oscars and five Golden Globes), became a cult classic. Due to the fact […]
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SALOME

3. 11. 2016
by darjin01
Salome, Op. 54, is an opera in one act by Richard Strauss to a German libretto by the composer, based on Hedwig Lachmann’s German translation of the French play Salomé by Oscar Wilde. Strauss dedicated the opera to his friend Sir Edgar Speyer.  The opera is famous (at the time of its premiere, infamous) for its “Dance of the Seven Veils”. The final scene is frequently heard as a concert-piece for dramatic sopranos. The combination of the Christian biblical theme, the erotic and the murderous, which so attracted Wilde to the tale, shocked opera audiences from its first appearance. Some of the original performers were very reluctant to handle the material as written and the Salome, Marie Wittich, “refused to perform the ‘Dance of the Seven Veils'”, thus creating a situation where a dancer stood in for her. This precedent has been largely followed, one early notable exception being that of Aino Ackté, whom Strauss himself dubbed “the one and only Salome”. It was first performed at the Hofoper in Dresden on 9 December 1905, and within two years, it had been given in 50 other opera houses. Gustav Mahler could not gain the consent of the Vienna censor to have […]
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THE MARRIAGE OF FIGARO

2. 11. 2016
by darjin01
La folle journée ou le mariage de Figaro (1784) is an outstanding literary material, conceived by the master Pierre Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais (1732–1799), which was a genuine dynamite for the ruling regime of its time as well. Not only was Beaumarchais the first writer to become rich thanks to a successful literary work, but he also turned its theatre premiere into an extraordinarily memorable event, attracting large number of audiences. Figaro grew into a harbinger of the impending social changes, which later resulted in what was referred to as the French Revolution, so that eventually even Napoleon himself described this work as a »revolution in action«. At that time the performances, based on such literary materials, were strictly forbidden, although they were allowed to be published by the Emperor. This is how Lorenzo da Ponte (1749–1838), the librettist of the opera, composed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–1791), was granted a permission to its creation as long as it did not contain anything that could damage the reputation of the theatre, operating under the patronage of his Majesty. Luckily enough, Mozart, who had no political interests, was rather than by its related content note more attracted by its perfected story […]
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Ta zapis je moj globok poklon gospodu, ki je toliko let zapeljeval množice. Bil je tako blizu poslušalcu, a hkrati tako odmaknjenem od sveta, da je deloval skoraj nezemeljsko s svojo skrivnostno pojavnostjo. Kot da bi za elegantno obleko, pod temnim klobukom skrival vse temne skrivnosti svojega srca Moj poklon gospodu, ki je s svojimi koncerti ustvarjal vzdušje mešanih občutkov. Nekaj veličastnega in nadčloveškega, da si se v nekem trenutku zbal za usodo svoje duše, saj se je zdelo, da te z vsakim stihom vleče globlje. V nek kult posvečen poetu Leonardu Cohenu. In si nihal med vprašanjem, če gre v njegovih verzih za molitev bogu ali hudiču.  Njegovi koncerti so bili tako intimni, da si se bal globoko vdihniti, ker se je zdelo, da bo vsak nepotreben šum prekinil organsko povezanost vseh prisotnih. Tako intimni, da te je v nekem trenutku oblival sram, ker si se počutil, da te je nekdo ravnokar zalotil, kako se ljubiš z njegovimi besedami, razgaljen do bistva, v posvečenem templju. Njegov glas, prepleten z leti prepovedanih strasti, hedonizma, se je toplo zlival po telesu, kot kozarec rdečega vina popitega v intimi poletne noči. Medtem, ko veter kodra zavese sobe obsijane samo s sojem sveč. In, ko je opisoval, skoraj […]
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