Some of My Lives: A Scrapbook Memoir
Rosamond Bernier has lived an strangely complete life―remarkable for its vividness and variety of experience―and she has recognized many (one is tempted to assert all) of the best artists and composers of the 20 th century.
In Some of My Lives, Bernier has made a type of literary scrapbook from a unprecedented array of writings, starting from diary entries to her many contributions to the artwork magazine L'OEIL, which she cofounded in 1955. the result's a multifaceted self-portrait of a lifestyles proficient and surrounded through the arts.
Through the tales of her encounters with many of the 20th century's nice artists and composers―including Pablo Picasso, Leonard Bernstein, Max Ernst, Aaron Copeland, Malcolm Lowry, and Karl Lagerfeld―we come to appreciate the sheer richness of Bernier's reviews, interactions, and stories. the result's pithy, hilarious, and wise―a richly worthwhile chronicle of many lives totally lived.
Above town. It was once there boy—the mozo—came up with a message from the bar. A foreigner, ragged and bleeding, have been thrown off the Cuernavaca bus, without funds, talking no Spanish. He were dumped there. may we come down? We went. there has been a corpulent fellow of approximately thirty, disheveled blond hair, unshaven, outfits certainly torn and bloodstained, ranting incoherently. the decision of the Siete Mares was once transparent: “borracho, borracho”—drunk. I knew sufficient Spanish to acknowledge the following.
The track, which prior to talkies used to be played by means of a stay orchestra), and a camel pulling a hearse. So it was once with pleasure that I went to satisfy its author. He appeared similar to a Parisian in a René Clair movie. He used to be a Parisian by way of delivery, moderate, quickly, fascinating. His spouse, Bronia, had come to Paris from her local Poland within the Twenties. She was once a favourite of the habitués of the Dome and the Coupole. whilst I met her, she used to be, after all, totally dressed. yet I stored remembering the well-known photo of.
Trousers held up by way of a bit of rope. “I came upon them,” he acknowledged triumphantly, happy with himself, and happy for me. He had made drawings of the complete composition, The physique of Saint Sebastian Recovered from the Water, and from information of a determine praying, and he had signed them and dated them “Albrecht Altdorfer” in Gothic letters. We released them within the may perhaps factor of our first yr. clearly, I gave again the drawings. yet they have been by no means visible again—never reproduced wherever other than in my.
of varied components of the British military and military with their bands. I marched besides my mom, following the parade, over excited through the marching tune and the sight of a drummer with a huge tiger pores and skin bravely making resounding whacks on a big drum. The parade led to a church, the place there has been a Thanksgiving carrier for the troops. As i've got stated, i used to be a shy baby, so it was once thoroughly out of personality whilst, intoxicated by means of the song, I lifted my whistle to my lips and set free a shrill.
It. a chum of mine mentioned that I’d heard it with him a number of years sooner than. at the moment, it didn’t stick with me sufficient to need to paintings with it. yet then i used to be prepared for it. I the particular constitution of the ranking. That rating is a wonderful cryptogram on many, many degrees. the tale at the back of it's that Alban Berg used to be very keen on a daughter of a chum of his, Alma Mahler. She shriveled polio and died after loads of pain. Berg used to be so disenchanted that he stopped engaged on Lulu, or the.