His reference is to Sweden, especially in 1968.
"A dog obeyed in office" is from King Lear.
Call me a pathetic old fool of nostalgia,
but I find some honour in my memories.
When I was young the actor's part was most respectable,
a profession held in high esteem, as its demands were high
of diction above all and clarity, which was needed in the classics
of the ageless kind, with Shakespeare every year
and also Greek tragedians, and the ensemble acting
was accomplished in a consummation of qualification
as a team work, everybody being vitally important.
Then we were invaded by political demands,
with socialism on the agenda,
as the Chinese cultural revolution was followed
with its obligatory destructon of all ancient values,
driving over cultural traditions,
making actors of the old school worthless over night,
brushed down into the ditch as outdated and dusty
with their knowledge and accomplished art
all of a sudden undesirable, as only revolutionary
propaganda plays as missions of radicalism
were modernly accepted, and old actors had to leave
discarded with direction to the bottle.
What was wrong then with real theatre,
Euripides and Shakespeare, diction that was understood,
dramatic realism with man as individual at the centre,
actors like Laurence Olivier and Leslie Howard?
What was wrong with old films, that today still are worth watching,
where every word is understandable, a distinct story line and plot
with careful dramaturgy offering an interesting experience
worth remembering as thought-provoking food for meditation?
What's wrong with traditions, roots in old acquired crafts,
maintenance of old knowledge, keeping memories alive,
and cultivating quality and skill of art and craft
in striving to some timelessness in serving poetry as creativity
in moulding an improvement of reality in ideal sincerity?
What is revolutionary radicalism and political enforcement
to the idealistic quest for ageless and eternal continuity?
I am just an old actor, forced to step aside in resignation
facing the sad phase of aging, but I rather see and read
old plays as they were written, than as they now are performed
in modern and absurd unnatural unrealistic stagings
where you cannot hear or understand a word
for only mumbling, stuttering and slurring nonsense
lacking all articulation, as the modern dog obeyed in office
of the revolutionary radical politic theatre of modernism.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
Read 759 times
Written on 2019-01-28 at 23:47
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"A dog obeyed in office" is from King Lear.
The Old Actor
Call me a pathetic old fool of nostalgia,
but I find some honour in my memories.
When I was young the actor's part was most respectable,
a profession held in high esteem, as its demands were high
of diction above all and clarity, which was needed in the classics
of the ageless kind, with Shakespeare every year
and also Greek tragedians, and the ensemble acting
was accomplished in a consummation of qualification
as a team work, everybody being vitally important.
Then we were invaded by political demands,
with socialism on the agenda,
as the Chinese cultural revolution was followed
with its obligatory destructon of all ancient values,
driving over cultural traditions,
making actors of the old school worthless over night,
brushed down into the ditch as outdated and dusty
with their knowledge and accomplished art
all of a sudden undesirable, as only revolutionary
propaganda plays as missions of radicalism
were modernly accepted, and old actors had to leave
discarded with direction to the bottle.
What was wrong then with real theatre,
Euripides and Shakespeare, diction that was understood,
dramatic realism with man as individual at the centre,
actors like Laurence Olivier and Leslie Howard?
What was wrong with old films, that today still are worth watching,
where every word is understandable, a distinct story line and plot
with careful dramaturgy offering an interesting experience
worth remembering as thought-provoking food for meditation?
What's wrong with traditions, roots in old acquired crafts,
maintenance of old knowledge, keeping memories alive,
and cultivating quality and skill of art and craft
in striving to some timelessness in serving poetry as creativity
in moulding an improvement of reality in ideal sincerity?
What is revolutionary radicalism and political enforcement
to the idealistic quest for ageless and eternal continuity?
I am just an old actor, forced to step aside in resignation
facing the sad phase of aging, but I rather see and read
old plays as they were written, than as they now are performed
in modern and absurd unnatural unrealistic stagings
where you cannot hear or understand a word
for only mumbling, stuttering and slurring nonsense
lacking all articulation, as the modern dog obeyed in office
of the revolutionary radical politic theatre of modernism.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
Read 759 times
Written on 2019-01-28 at 23:47
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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ken d williams |
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josephus |
