"We need to talk....Please... "

 

 

Wilhelm von Gloeden (Private collection)

Academic Study

 

Wilhelm von Gloeden (Private collection)

What are you thinking about?

 

 

  

Wilhelm von Gloeden — Albumen Print — Details — Private collection

Smile

Von Gloeden — Albumen print  (detail) — July 1897

Private collection

"Il Signore Barone was so funny... He spoke Italian with a weird German accent... And instead of "si", he said "ja ja ja"... So funny...

This photo was shot at the San Domenico monastery, in the cloister. Il Barone asked us to undress. The both of us were nude... Actually, at the time, we were used to hang on with our friends totally naked... At the beach, while swimming, while fishing... And sometimes in the mountain as well, at the peak of the heatwave, when we  were looking after our fathers goats...

At that time, I did not understand why Il Signore Barone wanted us to be naked... He was telling us about poets, gods and heroes, about Greeks and Romans, about the beauty of youth, about art and painting...

Il Signore Barone was very kind to us... He was generous too, and he offered small gifts, sometimes money for the photo session. 

Usually, it took quite a lot of time. Il Barone was checking the light, the background. He was cleaning us when we were a bit dirty and dusty, after working in the mountain or in the fields of olive-trees...

He was fine tuning our poses arms, legs, face, gaze, the way we should stand up, the way we should look at him.

Il Signore Gloeden was a true artist, like a painter, and sometimes like a sculptor, when he touched us to turn our body in the right direction, to have the best view on the small of our backs, on our shoulders, on our chests, on our tighs and legs...

"Don't move, don't breathe !  Bellisimi ragazzi, perfetto, grazie tanto, ja ja ja ja ja !"

I should share with you a little secret. 

You probably wonder why I am smiling that way on this photograph...I tried hard to stop a laughter actually...

You know why ? Because while we were standing on each side of this column, with my friend, totally naked, il Padre Alberto, il Priest di Taormina, entered the cloister.

He saw us. he raised his eyes to heaven and we heard: "Madre Dio Madonna Gesu Paster noster Ave Maria..."

Il Barone waved to him: "Hello hello, Padre, buon giorno !!!"

Il Padre Alberto and il Signore Gloeden were wery good friends, actually... Today, I suspect that Alberto was not totally unconcerned about Gloeden's photographs and the boys of Taormina...

Perhaps Il Signore gave him an albumen print of this photo, shot in the San Domenico's cloister, in july 1897, if I remember correctly...

So this is why I smile on this photograph... And just thinking about the Padre entering the cloister  and looking at the two of us, standing nude on each side of the column,   makes me laugh again today, so many years after..."

Von Gloeden Archive, Handwritten diary of G. T. , 1930. Call number: 1930/18

(GT was featured on many Gloeden's photographs. He was one of his favorite models)

Ode to Spring

Blossoming almond-trees

Blossoming boys

The spring is coming...

Taormina, at the end of XIXc century

Wilhelm von Gloeden — Albumen print — Private collection

Helios / Sun / Soleil

 

Von Gloeden — Albumen print — ca 1899 — Detail

Private collection

Le berger de Taormina / Taormina's shepherd (featuring Von Gloeden's dog)

 

 

 

 

Wilhelm von Gloeden — Albumen print — ca 1899 — Private collection

Boys of Taormina

 

Wilhelm von Gloeden — Albumen original print — Private collection

Les photographies de von Gloeden racontent des histoires. Elles s'inscrivent dans une tradition, dans une mythologie. Elles sont des poèmes visuels, la traduction visuelle des épigrammes de Straton, Méléagre et autres poètes de la Muse garçonnière. Elles disent le désir et la séduction, la beauté et la jeunesse, l'essence des garçons et l'initiation vers l'âge adulte...

Von Gloeden's photographs tell stories. They belong to a tradition, to a mythology. They are visual poems, the visual translation of Strato, Meleager  and so many other poets of the Mousa paidiké... They tell stories of desire and seduction, of beauty and youth, the essence of boyhood and initiation towards manhood...

Who were you ? / Qui étais-tu ?

 

 

 

Wilhelm von Gloeden — Portrait (albumen print) — No number on the reverse.

(Private collection)

Qui étais-tu, jeune homme au si beau visage ? 

Quel était ton nom, garçon de Taormina ?

Quelle a été ton histoire, ta vie, ton destin ?

Etais-tu un berger dans les montagnes ?

Cultivais-tu les oliviers ?

Ou étais-tu un marin, un pêcheur ?

A quoi rêves-tu, avec tes beaux yeux perdus dans le vide ?

Sais-tu qu'aujourd'hui ton visage, ton regard me font rêver ?

Je penserai à toi

La prochaine fois 

Que j'irai à Taormina...

Who where you, cute lad with such a beautiful face?

What was your name, boy from Taormina?

What was your story, you life, your fate?

Were you a shepherd in the mountains?

Were you cultivating olive tree?

Or were you a sailor, a fisherman?

What are you dreaming about, with your beautiful eyes lost in the void?

Do you know today your face, your eyes make me dream?

I will remember and think about you

New time

I will go to Taormina

Portrait sublime / Sublime Portrait

 

Von Gloeden 

No number, no stamp, no date on the reverse

Albumen print, private collection. 

"Dear Wilhelm,

The portrait I bought from you is now framed and it is on the wall of my bedroom !

It makes me dream... It reminds me so many fond memories of my stay in Taormina, last spring...

Since I attended the photo session, and I remember quite well where and when it took place, I can easily decipher the face expression of your delicious model... Giovanni ? Luigi ? Marco... I am confused...

But I remember... You told him stories... You read poems... Theocritus and Strato's poems, if I am correct...

You told him: "Bellissimo, perfetto, bellissimo ragazzo... Don't move, don't breathe !"

I had the idea of the flower between his lips... "Brilliant idea !" you said...

It was spring in Taormina... Everything was blossoming, trees and... boys...

I love so much this photo, dear Wilhelm... And your model from Taormina too, obviously... He is gorgeous... So classical... He could be a boy from IIId century BC... He is the dreamt ephebe... I just love him... He is my dream, my icon... Please tell him... I am sure he reminds me...

I will try to visit you again next spring... 

Wilhelm, your photographic art is the mirror of my heart, of my soul...

Yours, as always

Philip"

Von Gloeden Archive, Letter from Philip to W. von Gloeden, September 1896. Call number: 1896/35

Pasqualino

Von Gloeden, Portrait of Pasqualino Stracuzzi.

On the back: stamp "W. von Gloeden, Taormina (Sicilia). Proprieta artistisca)

and number "1321" written with a pencil.

Private collection.

"My dear Wilhelm,

Thanks so much for this so beautiful portrait of my favorite Taormina boy, Pasqualino...

He is so beautiful, so expressive, so unique...

Bellissimo ragazzo, molto bello...

There is no beauty without spirituality.

There is no body without a soul.

There is no love without a cult.

I still remember fondly my stay at Taormina, last fall, and my visit at your house.

And I am so grateful for meeting Pasqualino and having some... well... some private and intimate time with him...

I love him. I love him so much.  He is just so... Well, you know...

I adore this new portrait of him...

I imagine he is praying: "Please, come back... Come back soon... I miss you..."

Please, Wilhelm, my friend, tell him; I miss him too. I miss him so badly.

I hope to travel to Sicily at the end of spring. When cherry trees are blossoming, as the boys of Taormina...

Please, Wilhelm, my friend, please tell Pasqualino that I will be back soon.

And that my first time in Taormina will be for him...

We will meet again in his so delicious casa, at the top of the village.

I know how to enter the house (and his room !) without being heard or noticed by his parents... I know his father does not know... !

Yours, as always...

Edwin, from Baltimore
Novembre 1899"

Von Gloeden Archive, Letter from Edwin to W. von Gloeden, November 1899. Call number: 1899/27.

Amours Secrètes

Édition limitée à 950 exemplaires 408 pages – Relié 327 illustrations couleur : dessins, peintures, documents, photographies et lettres Format 21 x 27,5 cm Textes de : Patrick Dubuis, Jean-Loup Salètes, Jean-Marc Barféty, Alexandre de Villiers et Nicole Canet. Éditions Galerie Au Bonheur du Jour ISBN : 979-10-93837-00-0 Ces cinq grands écrivains ont parfois fréquenté les mêmes endroits et les mêmes personnes, aimé le même type de partenaires. AvecMarcel Proust, nous fréquenterons les salons, mais aussi les maisons de prostitution masculine de la Belle Époque. Pierre Loti, épris de voyages lointains, nous entraînera à sa suite vers un Orient mythique où fleurissent des amours insolites. Renaud Icard, coincé entre sa vie conjugale et son goût pour les garçons, tentera de démêler pour nous les racines de sa folle passion. Avec son habituel panache, Roger Peyrefitte évoquera ses « amitiés particulières », qui lui ont valu tant d’admirateurs et de détracteurs. Quant à Jean Genet, il esquissera sans ambiguïté les amours viriles entre des garçons pas si mauvais que cela. L’importante iconographie de cet ouvrage contribue largement à situer ces cinq écrivains dans leurs univers respectifs, permettant ainsi de mieux les approcher dans leur véritable intimité, au plus près de ce qu’ils ont été et de ce que la société bien-pensante a trop souvent cherché à occulter.

Nicole Canet - Galerie Au Bonheur du Jour 1 rue Chabanais 75002 Paris Tel. 01 42 96 58 64 Du mardi au samedi de 14H30 à 19H30 Email : aubonheurdujour@curiositel.com Site : www.aubonheurdujour.net

Pasqualino

My dear Pasqualino,

You are, as you know, my favorite ephebe among all the Taormina lads who surrounded Wilhelm von Gloeden, at the beginning of the XXth century...

When I visited Taormina, in the '80s of the XXth century, you were still alive... You were an old man, and perhaps I met you in the streets of Taormina, or at a trattoria or a bar, drinking a cappucino or a grappa... You were during most of your life a gardener, and if I am well informed, you were the gardener of the San Domenico Hotel, which was previously a monastery with an infamous cloister, where Gloeden shot so many pics of nude boys....

I have many portraits of you, in your blossoming years, and I always loved your so expressive face, with those great eyes, this curly brune hair...

You were, and you still are, the ideal ephebe of Greek poets and philosophers, and I am sure Theocritus or Euripides, Socrates or Plato would have noticed you... I am sure they would have written erotic epigrams about you...  Such a cute teen boy would have inspired Strato while writing the poems of his Mousa Paidiké...

We are already in 2017, January the 6th... You are now dust and ashes in the cemetery of Taormina, and next time I will travel to Sicily, I will visit you and offer you flowers from the Taormina's mountains...

I will also drink a glass of Sicilian red wine, and I will pour a few drops on your grave, while reciting a few verses from Euripides' Bacchae...

Don't worry, my dear Pasqualino... There is someone who remembers the blossoming boy you were...

There is someone who is still in love with you....

I love you, Pasqualino....

Butterfly

The Prince of Taormina

I Die of Love for Him...

"I die of love for him, perfect in every way,

Lost in the strains of wafting music.

My eyes are fixed upon his delightful body

And I do not wonder at his beauty.

His waist is a sapling, his face a moon,

And loveliness rolls off his rosy cheek

I die of love for you, but keep this secret:

The tie that binds us is an unbreakable rope.

How much time did your creation take, O angel?

So what! All I want is to sing your praises."

Abu Nuwas (757-815)

Corydon and Alexis: Arcadian Love

The shepherd Corydon with love was fired 

For fair Alexis, his own master's joy: 

No room for hope had he, yet, none the less, 

The thick-leaved shadowy-soaring beech-tree grove 

Still would he haunt, and there alone, as thus, 

To woods and hills pour forth his artless strains. 

"Cruel Alexis, heed you naught my songs? 

Have you no pity? you'll drive me to my death. 

Now even the cattle court the cooling shade 

And the green lizard hides him in the thorn: 

Now for tired mowers, with the fierce heat spent, 

Pounds Thestilis her mess of savoury herbs, 

Wild thyme and garlic. I, with none beside, 

Save hoarse cicalas shrilling through the brake, 

Still track your footprints 'neath the broiling sun. 

Better have borne the petulant proud disdain 

Of Amaryllis, or Menalcas wooed, 

Albeit he was so dark, and you so fair! 

Trust not too much to colour, beauteous boy; 

White privets fall, dark hyacinths are culled. 

You scorn me, Alexis, who or what I am 

Care not to ask- how rich in flocks, or how 

In snow-white milk abounding: yet for me 

Roam on Sicilian hills a thousand lambs; 

Summer or winter, still my milk-pails brim. 

I sing as erst Amphion of Circe sang, 

What time he went to call his cattle home 

On Attic Aracynthus. Nor am I 

So ill to look on: lately on the beach 

I saw myself, when winds had stilled the sea, 

And, if that mirror lie not, would not fear 

Daphnis to challenge, though yourself were judge. 

Ah! were you but content with me to dwell. 

Some lowly cot in the rough fields our home, 

Shoot down the stags, or with green osier-wand 

Round up the straggling flock! There you with me 

In silvan strains will learn to rival Pan. 

Pan first with wax taught reed with reed to join; 

For sheep alike and shepherd Pan hath care. 

Nor with the reed's edge fear you to make rough 

Your dainty lip; such arts as these to learn 

What did Amyntas do?- what did he not? 

A pipe have I, of hemlock-stalks compact 

In lessening lengths, Damoetas' dying-gift: 

'Mine once,' quoth he, 'now yours, as heir to own.' 

Foolish Amyntas heard and envied me. 

Ay, and two fawns, I risked my neck to find 

In a steep glen, with coats white-dappled still, 

From a sheep's udders suckled twice a day- 

These still I keep for you; which Thestilis 

Implores me oft to let her lead away; 

And she shall have them, since my gifts you spurn. 

Come hither, beauteous boy; for you the Nymphs 

Bring baskets, see, with lilies brimmed; for you, 

Plucking pale violets and poppy-heads, 

Now the fair Naiad, of narcissus flower 

And fragrant fennel, doth one posy twine- 

With cassia then, and other scented herbs, 

Blends them, and sets the tender hyacinth off 

With yellow marigold. I too will pick 

Quinces all silvered-o'er with hoary down, 

Chestnuts, which Amaryllis wont to love, 

And waxen plums withal: this fruit no less 

Shall have its meed of honour; and I will pluck 

You too, ye laurels, and you, ye myrtles, near, 

For so your sweets ye mingle. Corydon, 

You are a boor, nor heeds a whit your gifts 

Alexis; no, nor would Iollas yield, 

Should gifts decide the day. Alack! alack! 

What misery have I brought upon my head!- 

Loosed on the flowers Siroces to my bane, 

And the wild boar upon my crystal springs! 

Whom do you fly, infatuate? gods ere now, 

And Dardan Paris, have made the woods their home. 

Let Pallas keep the towers her hand hath built, 

Us before all things let the woods delight. 

The grim-eyed lioness pursues the wolf, 

The wolf the she-goat, the she-goat herself 

In wanton sport the flowering cytisus, 

And Corydon Alexis, each led on 

By their own longing. See, the ox comes home 

With plough up-tilted, and the shadows grow 

To twice their length with the departing sun, 

Yet me love burns, for who can limit love? 

Ah! Corydon, Corydon, what hath crazed your wit? 

Your vine half-pruned hangs on the leafy elm; 

Why haste you not to weave what need requires 

Of pliant rush or osier? Scorned by this, 

Elsewhere some new Alexis you will find."

Virgil, Eclogue, 2.

ca 37 BC 

Vintage Dream

Et in Arcadia Ego...

I have never seen this Von Gloeden's photograph before...

As far as I know, it was never published in any modern book devoted to von Gloeden...

This photograph was used as a postcard around 1910.

Yes, around 1910, it was possible to send such a postcard through European posts networks...

Would it be possible today ?

I guess not...

This is for me like a quintessence of von Gloeden's visual, artistic, imaginary, sensitive universe...

It is an Arcadian dream... Boys singing and dancing, celebrating a Greek god... Apollo ? Or Dionysius ? I guess Dionysius...

There is such a lovely mood in this scene...

This scene takes place in the wilderness, above Taormina's village... Nobody else than von Gloeden was looking at these naked boys dancing together, or listening to the music of the young flute player...

Most of these boys were young peasants, shepherds, fisher men, perhaps some of them were repairing cars in a garage...

I wonder how von Gloeden was able to deal with their laughs, with their jokes, with their unruly behaviour...

Or perhaps these boys were totally focussed on the scene they were supposed to play...

"Listen to me, ragazzi... You are now the kaloi paides, the kala meirakia, the formosi pueri of Callimachus, Theocritus and Vergil...  Apollo and Dionysius are watching you ! Eros is watching you too ! So, no bad jokes, play it nice, please ! Sing and dance, and freeze when I make a photoshot ! Grazie mille, ragazzi !"

This great postcard is now part of my personal collection....

By the way, should I relaunch "Rêves Siciliens" blog ?

It seems I did... 

Exposition Lehnert et Landrock - Tunisie 1905-1910

Du 24 septembre au 22 novembre 2014 : Exposition Lehnert et Landrock - Tunisie 1905-1910

Galerie Au Bonheur du Jour

11 rue Chabanais

75002 Paris

Le photographe Rudolf Lehnert et son associé Ernst Landrock s’installent en 1904 à Tunis. La formation de Lehnert à l’Institut des Arts Graphiques de Vienne, nous fait découvrir des photographies dont la composition est proche de la peinture, empreintes de pureté et de poésie.

Cette exposition-vente présente une centaine de clichés :

Scènes de la vie quotidienne, portraits, dunes, oasis, les mythiques images de nus féminins et quelques nus de garçons très rares.

New Acquisition: von Plüschow (1852-1930)

 

This magnificent albumen photograph was shot in Pompéi by Wilhelm von Plüschow ca 1890.

I think this photograph belongs to a series shot in the Casa dei Vettii.

If I am not mistaken, the model is Pasqualino.

Von Plûschow built up this scene in a very artistic and pictorial way, playing with the light and the shade, with the colors contrast, and with the vertical and horizontal lines.

The homoerotic overtones are mixed with a subtle melancholia, like a meditation about fate and the feeting time, and indeed about Pompéi's destruction in 79 AD.

This is really a masterpiece...

Creative Commons Licence. 

 This image can be reposted with the link to my blog

No commercial use