Art, Huguette Bertrand, Immagine & Poesia, Lidia Chiarelli, Poetry, Yesim Agaoglu

Poems over the city- Tarık Günersel’s comment

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Read it on ISSUU:

     Tarık Günersel’s critical comment:
     Şiir Bahçesi
     … bu federal kitap. Zarif, yoğun, yalın şiirler. Görsel eşliklerle. Üç kadın Dünyadaş (Earthmates) baş başa vermiş, bizi çağırıyor. Göğe bakıyorum: bu şiirlerle donanmış.
     Bu şölen sayısız okura, hayal kurucuya ulaşır umarım.  İtalya, Kanada ve Türkiye’ye ek olarak her yerde, belki özellikle Japonya’da; birçok şiir haiku tadında.
     Sağ olun, Sevgili Şairler ve bu projenin gerçekleşmesini Sağlayan Herkes.
     A Garden of Poems
     A federal book. Elegant, intense, and plain poems. Accompanied by visuals. Three female Earthmates have got together -inviting us. Now I’m looking into the sky: It’s richly decorated with poems.
     This feast could and should reach so many readers, imaginers. Everywhere, especially in Japan -in addition to Canada, Italy and Turkey; as some of the poems taste like haiku.
     Thank you, Dear Poets and All of You who have contributed to the realisation of this project.
Adel Gorgy, Art, Fine Art Photo, Mary Gregory

“Delicacy and harmony” critical essay by Mary Gregory, fine art photos by Adel Gorgy

Credit: Chelsea News, NY


  • Sakai Hoitsu’s red maple fills one side of a pair of folding screens. It’s one of the masterpieces included in “The Poetry of Nature.” Photo: Adel Gorgy

  • “Hollyhocks and Prince’s-Feather Flowers” a haiku-like scroll painting on silk by Sakai Oho (1808–1841). Photo: Adel Gorgy

  • Tsukioka Yoshitoshi, one of the masters of Meiji woodblock prints, depicts a magical realm in “Fudo Myoo Threatening a Novice.” Photo: Adel Gorgy

  • Nagasawa Rosetsu’s “Cranes” from the Edo period (1615–1868) are among the delights on view in the Met’s Arts of Japan galleries. Photo: Adel Gorgy

  • Alternate views of “Cranes” by Nagasawa Rosetsu. Photo: Adel Gorgy

  • Detail, “Outer Robe (Uchikake) with Phoenixes and Paulownia.” Photo: Adel Gorgy

  • “Mynah Birds,” by an unknown artist from the Momoyama (1573–1615) or Edo (1615–1868) period in Japan. Photo: Adel Gorgy

  • Cherry blossoms by Sakai Hoitsu deliver promises of rebirth through dazzling imagery. Photo: Adel Gorgy




The word museum comes from the ancient Greeks. Mouseion was a house of the muses. Sometimes, the museum itself becomes the muse.

Temper a hot summer day in a cool, shaded gallery at The Met Fifth Avenue filled with delightful reflections of nature. In a time of record heat, blazing wildfires and torrential storms, it’s a subject we all need think more about.

The Arts of Japan galleries are filled with poetry, art, moonrises, birds in flight, grazing deer and exquisite calligraphy. “The Poetry of Nature: Edo Paintings from the Fishbein-Bender Collection” presents a distant time and place, but through a local connection. The exhibition features some 40 paintings from the collection of New Yorkers, Dr. Estelle P. Bender and her late husband, T. Richard Fishbein. Most have never been publicly displayed before, and most are promised gifts to the museum. They’re joined by earlier works from The Met’s collections as well as contemporary ceramics and photography, to give a sense of tori-awase, or connoisseurial arrangement, a traditional Japanese practice to heighten awareness and let objects communicate not just with the viewer, but with one another as well.

The exhibition fills several galleries with works that span from the 10th to the 21st centuries, though the focus is on the Edo period. From 1615 to 1868 Japanese artists came in contact with China and the West, finding new ways of seeing and creating. The Fishbein-Bender collection features those who broke from tradition. There’s a rare scroll by a 17th century female artist, Kiyohara Yukinobu. Her painting of waxwings, a small sparrow-like bird, may hold a secret message. The affectionate birds symbolized marital harmony; Yukinobu and her husband were both artists.

Harmony is a key theme of the exhibition. Poetry and painting are married, too, in many of the works. Verses tumble down the sides of scrolls; gorgeous lines of ink convey gorgeous lines of poetry. A delicately painted glazed tile, where calligraphy and the currents in a river mimic each other’s movements, contains a message from a 10th century poet: “Taking a tally of ripples on the face of the water, glimmering in the moonlight, we know that this night, tonight, the peak of autumn has arrived.” The texts of all poems incorporated into artworks are translated, making for a rich experience.

“Hollyhocks and Prince’s-Feather Flowers” a small scroll painted by Sakai Ōho (1808–1841), looks like a tidy corner of someone’s backyard garden. In reality, it’s a masterpiece of positive/negative space, minimalist line and pure color. With the left side empty, balanced by only a few dark green leaves, a smattering of red spots, white blossoms and a tiny orange butterfly, it’s a yin-yang of nostalgia and transcendence. Nature and artistic nurture join to create a poetic perfection.

A pair of towering folding six-panel screens presents flowering cherry and red-leafed maple trees. Their gnarled trunks have seen many years, yet their blossoms and leaves speak of rebirth. It’s an expression of wisdom and innocence, a moment and eternity, joined symbolically by Sakai Hōitsu, the artist.

Myriad myna birds, fat frogs, gangly grasshoppers, swirling snails, plumed phoenix and plump monks are among the charming creatures depicted in paintings, sculptures, woodblock prints, embroidered robes, ceramics and basketry. Perhaps the most delightful is a pair of scrolls depicting three cranes. Posed against a soft, featureless background, they stand, two on one scroll, the other alone. Nagasawa Rosetsu painted them in the 1780s. It’s as though the artist wanted to paint every crane, capture every nuance, show the very essence of them. In one panel, two birds are depicted, one facing sideways, tall and elegant, the other with its back to the viewer. On the second panel, the bird gazes at the viewer head-on. The round body tapers to a comical nub of a head, all skinny neck and bulging eyes. It’s impossible not to smile, not to fall in love with her.

And that’s the point of the show — to get us to cherish the beauty in nature. Be inspired by a muse. Consider works by artists who understood that their survival depended on harmony with nature. Because, despite air conditioning, pavement and the wonders of plumbing and mass transit, ours does, too.

Art, Gloria Keh, Gogyoshi, Immagine & Poesia, Lidia Chiarelli

“BREATHE ME” gogyoshi and painting by Gloria Keh, Singapore


Breathe me into your body.

Breathe me into your soul.

Breathe me

like you’ve never breathed before.

Breathe me now.


Respirami nel tuo corpo.
Respirami nella tua anima.
come non hai mai respirato prima.
Respirami  adesso

Traduzione di Lidia Chiarelli


Art, Immagine & Poesia, Lidia Chiarelli, Tzemin Ition Tsai

The sunset even feels cold, poem by Tzemin Ition Tsai 蔡澤民 – Taiwan. Digital Collage by Lidia Chiarelli, Italy

























The sunset even feels cold


That tide infested waywardly my sandy beach

Sunset’s advice

With red eyes

No day to let off

In the past ten million years


Those ungrateful westerlies

Always secretly come and also secretly go

To turn

The giant fan of that wind power tower

For the confrontation between man and nature

Do not say a word


Clean up

Those gauzes hanging in the surrounding

My heart does not understand

How to deal with the questions of the little fishes

Are those thin meshes

able to catch the autumn wind?

Are those thin meshes

able to catch the cold before jumping into the sea?

Poem by



Freddo Tramonto


La marea infestava ostinata la mia spiaggia di sabbia

la suggestione del tramonto

gli occhi rossi

nessun giorno da tralasciare

negli ultimi dieci milioni di anni


Quegli  ingrati venti occidentali

sempre segretamente vengono e segretamente vanno

per far girare

il ventilatore gigante della torre elettrica di vento

per un confronto tra uomo e natura

nessuna parola



quelle reti appese tutto intorno

il mio cuore non capisce

come affrontare le domande dei piccoli pesci

sono quelle maglie sottili

in grado di catturare il vento autunnale?

sono quelle maglie sottili

in grado di catturare il freddo prima di cadere in mare?

Translation by Lidia  Chiarelli