| BlackDawn | Möchte euch ein paar (wie ich finde) sehr schöne Bilder vorstellen, ihr könnt ja im Gegenzug auch welche posten. Hoffe diesen Thread gibts nicht schonmal *schnatter*. Hier die schönsten Bilder auf Erden: 1. [URL=http://faculty.stonehill.edu/geverett/rb/watelady.jpg[/URL] (Hab euch aus Urheberrechtsgründen nur den Link gegeben. Das ist die "Lady of Shalott", gemalt von J.W. Waterhouse, einem sehr begabten Prä-Raffaelisten, der noch viele weitere Motive malte. Hier das Gedicht, aus dem die Lady entnommen ist (kennt ihr vielleicht): "On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; And through the field the road run by To many-tower'd Camelot; And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Round an island there below, The island of Shalott. Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Through the wave that runs for ever By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot. Four grey walls, and four grey towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott. By the margin, willow veil'd, Slide the heavy barges trail'd By slow horses; and unhail'd The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd Skimming down to Camelot: But who hath seen her wave her hand? Or at the casement seen her stand? Or is she known in all the land, The Lady of Shalott? Only reapers, reaping early, In among the bearded barley Hear a song that echoes cheerly From the river winding clearly; Down to tower'd Camelot; And by the moon the reaper weary, Piling sheaves in uplands airy, Listening, whispers, " 'Tis the fairy The Lady of Shalott." There she weaves by night and day A magic web with colours gay. She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott. And moving through a mirror clear That hangs before her all the year, Shadows of the world appear. There she sees the highway near Winding down to Camelot; There the river eddy whirls, And there the surly village churls, And the red cloaks of market girls Pass onward from Shalott. Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, An abbot on an ambling pad, Sometimes a curly shepherd lad, Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad Goes by to tower'd Camelot; And sometimes through the mirror blue The knights come riding two and two. She hath no loyal Knight and true, The Lady of Shalott. But in her web she still delights To weave the mirror's magic sights, For often through the silent nights A funeral, with plumes and lights And music, went to Camelot; Or when the Moon was overhead, Came two young lovers lately wed. "I am half sick of shadows," said The Lady of Shalott. A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, He rode between the barley sheaves, The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves, And flamed upon the brazen greaves Of bold Sir Lancelot. A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd To a lady in his shield, That sparkled on the yellow field, Beside remote Shalott. The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, Like to some branch of stars we see Hung in the golden Galaxy. The bridle bells rang merrily As he rode down to Camelot: And from his blazon'd baldric slung A mighty silver bugle hung, And as he rode his armor rung Beside remote Shalott. All in the blue unclouded weather Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather, The helmet and the helmet-feather Burn'd like one burning flame together, As he rode down to Camelot. As often thro' the purple night, Below the starry clusters bright, Some bearded meteor, burning bright, Moves over still Shalott. His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd; On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode; From underneath his helmet flow'd His coal-black curls as on he rode, As he rode down to Camelot. From the bank and from the river He flashed into the crystal mirror, "Tirra lirra," by the river Sang Sir Lancelot. She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces through the room, She saw the water-lily bloom, She saw the helmet and the plume, She look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide; The mirror crack'd from side to side; "The curse is come upon me," cried The Lady of Shalott. In the stormy east-wind straining, The pale yellow woods were waning, The broad stream in his banks complaining. Heavily the low sky raining Over tower'd Camelot; Down she came and found a boat Beneath a willow left afloat, And around about the prow she wrote The Lady of Shalott. And down the river's dim expanse Like some bold seer in a trance, Seeing all his own mischance -- With a glassy countenance Did she look to Camelot. And at the closing of the day She loosed the chain, and down she lay; The broad stream bore her far away, The Lady of Shalott. Lying, robed in snowy white That loosely flew to left and right -- The leaves upon her falling light -- Thro' the noises of the night, She floated down to Camelot: And as the boat-head wound along The willowy hills and fields among, They heard her singing her last song, The Lady of Shalott. Heard a carol, mournful, holy, Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, Till her blood was frozen slowly, And her eyes were darkened wholly, Turn'd to tower'd Camelot. For ere she reach'd upon the tide The first house by the water-side, Singing in her song she died, The Lady of Shalott. Under tower and balcony, By garden-wall and gallery, A gleaming shape she floated by, Dead-pale between the houses high, Silent into Camelot. Out upon the wharfs they came, Knight and Burgher, Lord and Dame, And around the prow they read her name, The Lady of Shalott. Who is this? And what is here? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer; And they crossed themselves for fear, All the Knights at Camelot; But Lancelot mused a little space He said, "She has a lovely face; God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott." Ich finde sie sieht so stolz aus, wissend um ihr trauriges Schicksal, aber dennoch stolz - und voller Melancholie. Eine der schönsten gemalten Frauen. 2. [URL=http://www.sierra-arts.net/files/DeborahDBBirthOfVenusSandroBotticelli.jpg[/URL] Ist ziemlich bekannt. Argl, ich liebe dieses Bild :) Geburt der Venus - Botticelli Durch dieses milchige-weiß wirkt sie so unberührbar und wunderschön, obwohl sie ja überhaupt nicht mehr den heutigen Schönheits"normen" entspricht (kleine Brüste, nicht sehr schlank...). Aber da ist sowas besonderes, vielleicht auch weil sie zentral platziert wurde und einen gradewegs anschaut, während die anderen Personen am Rand - also sie umrahmend, mit dem Blick zu ihr, platziert wurden. Ach was solls, ich spekuliere schon wieder zuviel... Genießt einfach! |
| BlackDawn | Ahja, da ist einiges schieß gegangen... Nochmal hier: 1. [URL=http://faculty.stonehill.edu/geverett/rb/watelady.jpg]Lady of Shalott - J. W. Waterhouse[/URL] und 2. [URL=URL=http://www.sierra-arts.net/files/DeborahDBBirthOfVenusSandroBotticelli.jpg ]Geburt der Venus - Sandro Botticelli[/URL] |
| BlackDawn | Warum auch immer ich jetzt beim 2. Link zum Nachtwelten Forum gelange.... [URL=http://www.johnmitchell.org/artgall2/botticellibirthvenus.jpg]Hier[/URL] ist nun hoffentlich der richtige... |
| Kaija | ich kenne diese werke,die sind wirklich alle wahnsinnig schön. ich kenne es nicht als gedicht sondern als lied von loreena mckennitt. mein absolutes lieblings bild ist das [URL=http://mitglied.lycos.de/brianmolko2/7853.JPG]klick[/URL] .ich finde das total trauig und jeder kann sich zu diesem bild seine eigene geschichte ausdenken.interessant ist es zwar auch was sich der künstler dabei gedacht hat,aber ich will es eigentlich nicht wissen.ich will bei meinere theorie bleiben und das ist vielelicht auch das was dieser küstler will. er malt bilder von der zukunf und von der vergangenheit verbunden mit fantasy. ----- was ich total gerne mag sind original bilder von adeligen. gibt es sehr schöne bilder,das schönste ist das es sie wirklich gegeben hat und sie wirklich so schön angezogen waren,egal in welcher zeit.ausserdem macht es mich neugirieg wie diese leute wohl gelebt haben. |
