Aside

Jean Louis Garnell: L’oeil du matin – 2014

L’oeil du matin  –  The Eye of the Morning

From Chatenay Malabry near Paris, (France), UNE PEINTURE BY JEAN-LOUIS GARNELL. Pigments sur toile de lin, 130 x 100 cm. First title: #10  2014.

It’s the eye of the morning, or Spring as an organism, the mystery of birth. Le printemps is a masculine word, la primavera is feminine, and spring-time, or spring-tide, is neutral. What do languages bring to the mind, beyond the idea that “the receiver and the giver are equal in their benefits … and who shall say between Man and Woman which is the most delighted?” Keats, 1818. Keats again: “I was led into these thoughts, my dear Reynolds, by the beauty of the morning operating on a sense of Idleness – I have not read any Books – the Morning said I was right – I had no Idea but of the Morning and the Thrush said I was right.” (Letter to Reynolds)

I’m not suspicious of clarity, which in France is a cultural obligation and the threshold of style, and makes you wonder what humans really are. RAThe Eye of the Morning

On April 28, Garnell replied: “Le titre de la peinture est dorénavant: The Eye of the Morning.” L’oeil du matin.

He also sent a poem of the Swedish poet Tomas Tranströmer: Madrigal 

J’ai hérité d’une sombre forêt où je me rends rarement. Mais un jour, les morts et les vivants
changeront de place. Alors, la forêt se mettra en marche. Nous ne sommes pas sans espoir.
Les plus grands crimes restent inexpliqués, malgré l’action de toutes les polices.
Il y a également, quelque part dans notre vie, un immense amour qui reste inexpliqué.
J’ai hérité d’une sombre forêt, mais je vais aujourd’hui dans une autre forêt toute baignée de lumière.
Tout ce qui vit, chante, remue, rampe et frétille ! C’est le printemps et l’air est enivrant.
Je suis diplômé de l’université de l’oubli et j’ai les mains aussi vides qu’une chemise sur une corde à linge.

From: BALTIQUE et autres poèmes, 1989, Le Castor Astral (France), Les Ecrits des Forges (Québec), p.137 (French translation from Swedish by Jacques Oudin)

I inherited a dark forest where I rarely go. But one day the dead and the living / will switch place. The forest, then, will start marching. We are not without hope. / Despite the action of all the polices the bigger crimes will not be explained.  / In our lives as well, somewhere, there is an unexplained, immense love. / I inherited a dark forest, but today I move to another forest flooded by light. /  All things that are alive sing, shake, climb and wriggle! It’s springtime and the air is inebriating. /  I have a degree from the oblivion university, my hands as empty as a shirt drying on a rope.  (English translation from French by RA)