Vitro Nasu

Flying saucers photo by Alan Sondheim

Happy birthday Alan! (Feb 3, 1943)
In 2007 Annie Ballardini celebrated his birthday with a birthday poem written by Alan. This was the missing birthday year here at Vitro Nasu for Alan, now amended with this link to his poem.

Alan and his bizarre but brainy/inventive birthday buddies -2009

Setsubun -(Japanese Bean throwing day) 2008

Three Lives: Alan with Gertrude Stein and Simone Weil (A good interview on Alan here)

Alan and Gertrude 2005

Follow Alan (if i follow you and you follow me, a noose around us both will be -Alan)

I wept because I had no shoes until I saw a man who had no tear-ducts.

Let us switch to non-birthday poem…

“the lyric poem

“If Auschwitz hadn’t happened, if September were another,
“I’d say that you were mine, I’d say we’d stay together,
“In any darkness, weather; if Beirut were filled with flowers,
“Jerusalem a town, I’d say we’d live forever, I’d say we’d be together;
“If Afghanistan were peaceful, if America were other,
“I’d say we’re made for one another, I’d say eternity;
“If Rwanda never happened, Sudan were prosperous,
“I’d say we’d love forever, I’d say a god was there, so glorious in us;
“If Israel were milk, and Palestine of honey, and China were so sweet,
“We’d lie together there, I’d say you were the rose,
“All among the fairest; if one voice hadn’t happened,
“Another took its place, I’d say your name forever,
“And we would live forever; if September were another,
“A day of bright fall weather, if Auschwitz hadn’t happened,
“In any darkness, weather, I’d say that we were peaceful,
“I’d say eternity, if animals still roamed free, if there were animals,
“I’d say a god was there, so glorious in us, all among the fairest;
“If one voice hadn’t happened, another took its place.”
© Alan Sondheim

Economies of the imaginary

0 the violent winds and ten directions
1 but there were times i knew the way (read more here)

Review of “Foofwa d’Imobilité/Neopost Ahrrrt”

The accompaniment was by Foofwa’s talented musical collaborator, Alan Sondheim. It was a useful entr’acte, because it eased the transition into a very different second live performance, one that moved from tiring to painful.
On a bare stage, with windows to the outside world visible and the rehearsal mirror reflecting from stage right, Sondheim sat, strumming one of the many exotic stringed instruments that surrounded him, including an electric Egyptian oud, cura cumbus and yayli tanbur, along with a recognizable classical guitar.