#Rilke-Performance
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kymbaldwinart.bsky.social
do not walk by
        without pausing
                to attend to this
                       rather ridiculous performance.
It could mean something.
It could mean everything.
It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote:
You must change your life.
Mary Oliver
March 20, 2025 at 10:42 AM
sandrarichterdla.bsky.social
#Rilke heute für Fans und Gegner. Also: Geht hin und "Tanzt die Orange" @dlamarbach.bsky.social
www.schauspiel-stuttgart.de/spielplan/a-...
„Hiersein ist herrlich“, Eine Rilke-Performance Konzept und Idee Björn Hayer | Schauspiel Stuttgart
„Hiersein ist herrlich“, Eine Rilke-Performance Konzept und Idee Björn Hayer, Besetzung: : Katharina Hauter, : Silvia Schwinger, : Felix Strobel, Konzept und Idee: Björn Hayer, Musik: Jojo Büld, Drama...
www.schauspiel-stuttgart.de
February 18, 2025 at 11:49 AM
bjoernhayer.bsky.social
Meine Rilke-Performance kommt nun noch ins große Haus in Stuttgart!!!
April 29, 2025 at 8:51 PM
frankhudson.bsky.social
for #PoemsAbout #chandoliers I thought this Rilke translation might inspire some. The statue's strange glow gets translated as candelabra or lamp by other translators. I chose chandelier for its sound & rhythm all those years ago. There's also a musical performance: frankhudson.org/2019/01/01/a...
Archaic Torso of Apollo – Rilke Translated by Frank Hudson 2019 We do not know his unheard-of head in which eyes ripened like apples. But his torso still glows like a chandelier. Even if the lights are turned down low, it still persists, gleams. Otherwise the carapace could not hold our gaze, and in the quiet turning the loins would not curve into a smile above the terminus, above his groin. And this stone could seem disfigured, stunted, from shoulders down, descending into nothing, no flickering below of a wild beast’s pelt. But there are no borders here, no broken edges. Like starlight suffused, there is no place it cannot see you. You must change your life.
August 22, 2025 at 4:00 AM
cliffcrego.bsky.social
#RILKE A Woman in Love, 4th movement in THE SHEPHERD’S PURSE, for soprano oboe d’amore & harp… Poem. Score. Performance model. vimeo.com/936489620

“Who am I who lies here under
rhis endless sky?…”

🌕 #Sun2Sound 🎵 #soprano #oboe #harp #gedicht #poetry #poesia #Gedicht #NewMusic #musicsky
THE SHEPHERD’S PURSE “A Woman in Love,” on a RILKE poem
Performance materials at www.cs-music.com/voice
vimeo.com
August 19, 2025 at 4:59 PM
diehoren.bsky.social
Julius Feldmeier gave a very credible performance as Rilke in Cordula Kablitz-Post's 2016 film, 'Lou Andreas-Salomé': The Audacity to Be Free':
www.youtube.com/watch?v=MRR0...
February 2, 2025 at 4:46 AM
frankhudson.bsky.social
#PoemsAbout #Green @brokenspinearts.bsky.social Here’s my translation of a poem by Rilke that starts with everything green & ends in childhood fear. Musical performance & translator’s notes in the next post of the thread
Before Summer Rain Suddenly, when everything in the park is green. Something—you don't know what it is-isn't, You can feel it coming up to your window Standing silent. Pure and strong Birdcalls of a plover in the woods Make one think of a sacred name— So much loneliness and desire From a single voice, which the rain Will hear soon. The house's hallways Proceed away from us, pictures hang down, Acting like they don't hear us at all. Faded flowered wallpaper, a dark mirror, As the afternoon tries to make up its mind Like a frightened child. -Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by Frank Hudson
May 2, 2025 at 11:41 AM
tienechine.bsky.social
I beg of you,
do not walk by
without pausing
to attend to this
rather ridiculous performance.
It could mean something.
It could mean everything.
It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote:
You must change your life.

#poetry #photography #nature #battenbroek

Words: Mary Oliver
Photo: mine
A migrant hawker is holding on to a flower stem and seems to be staring right back at the photographer.
February 28, 2025 at 7:37 AM
alinaetc.bsky.social
Mitchell spoke and was fluent in German. Not sure about other languages Caleb? I think his Rilke is sort of like Montcrief’s Proust: they are performances of an original text, so to speak. I love a good performance even if it is unfaithful to some aspects of the score.
September 25, 2025 at 5:19 AM
consiliumjournal.bsky.social
Listening for Truth: Weil, Kierkegaard, and Rilke in the Life of a Leader

Leadership is often spoken of in terms of action, influence, and performance. We imagine leaders as people who stand at the front, who speak with clarity and carry a group from one place to another. Yet those who have led…
Listening for Truth: Weil, Kierkegaard, and Rilke in the Life of a Leader
Leadership is often spoken of in terms of action, influence, and performance. We imagine leaders as people who stand at the front, who speak with clarity and carry a group from one place to another. Yet those who have led for any length of time know that the real work begins elsewhere. It begins in the quiet part of a life, in the part that is not on display.
consilium.education
November 23, 2025 at 1:41 AM
simon-beattie.bsky.social
2025–6 is a double anniversary for Rilke: 150 years since his birth, and the centenary of his death. The collection, and the performance, seem timely.
April 22, 2026 at 11:33 AM
cliffcrego.bsky.social
#RILKE A Woman in Love, 4th movement in THE SHEPHERD’S PURSE, for soprano oboe d’amore & harp… Poem. Score. Performance model. vimeo.com/936489620

“Who am I who lies here under
rhis endless sky?…”

🌕 #Sun2Sound 🎵 #soprano #oboe #harp #gedicht #poetry #poesia #Gedicht #NewMusic #musicsky
THE SHEPHERD’S PURSE “A Woman in Love,” on a RILKE poem
Performance materials at www.cs-music.com/voice
vimeo.com
July 13, 2026 at 1:16 AM
cliffcrego.bsky.social
#RILKE A Woman in Love, 4th movement in THE SHEPHERD’S PURSE, for soprano oboe d’amore & harp… Poem. Score. Performance model. vimeo.com/936489620

“Who am I who lies here under
rhis endless sky?…”

🌕 #Sun2Sound 🎵 #soprano #oboe #harp #gedicht #poetry #poesia #Gedicht #NewMusic #musicsky
THE SHEPHERD’S PURSE “A Woman in Love,” on a RILKE poem
Performance materials at www.cs-music.com/voice
vimeo.com
January 11, 2026 at 8:00 PM
nicolelouie.bsky.social
Invitation (Mary Oliver)
Just to be alive
on this fresh morning
in the broken world.
I beg of you,
do not walk by
without pausing
to attend to this
rather ridiculous performance.
It could mean something.
It could mean everything.
It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote:You must change your life.
January 26, 2025 at 9:27 PM
carlosariza.bsky.social
"it is a serious thing
just to be alive
on this fresh morning
in this broken world."

~ Mary Oliver
Oh do you have time to linger for just a little while out of your busy and very important day for the goldfinches that have gathered in a field of thistles for a musical battle, to see who can sing the highest note, or the lowest, or the most expressive of mirth, or the most tender? Their strong, blunt beaks drink the air as they strive melodiously not for your sake and not for mine and not for the sake of winning but for sheer delight and gratitude— believe us, they say, it is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in this broken world. I beg of you, do not walk by without pausing to attend to this rather ridiculous performance. It could mean something. It could mean everything. It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote: You must change your life.
February 3, 2025 at 3:35 PM
cliffcrego.bsky.social
(1)) #music #poetry INTRO, poem & performance model, from WINTER SONGS, "Exposed on the mountains of the heart," for #mezzosoprano & violin soundcloud.com/cliff-crego/...

🌕 #Sun2Sound🎵 #violin #viool #Geige #voice #RILKE #RainerMariaRilke
from WINTER SONGS,
THIS IS THE poem & performance model of the 1st
soundcloud.com
April 8, 2025 at 8:27 PM
frankhudson.bsky.social
#poetry #music Here’s my explanation of my evolving experience of Rilke’s poem as I came to translate & perform it. Audio player there to hear the performance: frankhudson.org/2020/08/05/b...
Before Summer Rain, or we get to Rilke eventually
How do we determine what a poem is on about? That this should be a question is a reason many flee poetry. Plainspoken poems still exist, and some poets manage to pull off the technique where there’…
frankhudson.org
May 2, 2025 at 11:41 AM
cliffcrego.bsky.social
THE SHEPHERD’S PURSE “Complaint” for on a #RILKE #poem

Perform poem in English & German;
then play straight through by heart 2x
Varying distance btwn #oboe & #soprano

Webscore is at www.cs-music.com/voice/compla...

Performance score pdf: www.cs-music.com/voice/pdfs/d...

#RiotAtTheRITE #Varėse
September 18, 2025 at 3:43 PM
simeonberry.bsky.social
“To everyone I ever invited to / a poetry reading, I’m sorry.” — @dobbygibson.bsky.social, “Poem Written onto the Back of a Program during My Daughter’s Violin Recital” @graywolfpress.bsky.social
DURING MY DAUGHTER’S VIOLIN RECITAL. To sit quietly in a room is to be an audience to that room, to the performance of what it makes you remember and haven't finished feeling, the way the present is an audience to the past. I’m still not sure I know what a fugue is. I’ll never forgive my parents for making me learn the trombone. I, too, like to hear old sounds sound true again, one of the great bonds among strangers, among the children sitting in a quiet row, advancing their techniques of not looking at us. I shouldn’t be embarrassed but the embarrassed is the last to realize it. Art risks everyone’s humiliation. The purpose of life, wrote Rilke, is to be defeated by greater and greater things. What will the children say about us later and how could it be that we did enough? To everyone I ever invited to a poetry reading, I’m sorry. We should have been listening to my daughter’s Vivaldi in A minor. I’ve never sat this still for beauty. I’ve never lived longer than a quarter note. Someone tried to paint this ceiling the color of a ceiling just in time. Dobby Gibson
June 12, 2025 at 11:27 AM
mismanda.bsky.social
Don’t worry that it’s not good enough for anyone else to hear, just sing, sing a song.
Invitation. Oh do you have time to linger for just a little while out of your busy and very important day for the goldfinches that have gathered in a field of thistles for a musical battle, to see who can sing the highest note, or the lowest, or the most expressive of mirth, or the most tender? Their strong, blunt beaks drink the air as they strive melodiously not for your sake and not for mine and not for the sake of winning but for sheer delight and gratitude believe us, they say, it is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in this broken world. I beg of you, do not walk by without pausing to attend to this rather ridiculous performance. It could mean something. It could mean everything. It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote: You must change your life.
February 5, 2025 at 3:04 AM
starcravingmad.bsky.social
Mary Oliver.

"It is a serious thing / just to be alive / on this fresh morning / in the broken world."
Invitation Oh do you have time to linger for just a little while out of your busy and very important day for the goldfinches that have gathered in a field of thistles for a musical battle, to see who can sing the highest note, or the lowest, or the most expressive of mirth, or the most tender? Their strong, blunt beaks drink the air as they strive melodiously not for your sake and not for mine and not for the sake of winning but for sheer delight and gratitude – believe us, they say, it is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in the broken world. I beg of you, do not walk by without pausing to attend to this rather ridiculous performance. It could mean something. It could mean everything. It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote: You must change your life.
November 25, 2024 at 4:56 PM
bessky.bsky.social
My latest review, of Concert Theatre Works' "Letters to a Young Poet" featuring the famous correspondence between #rilke and Kappus interpreted by Bill Barclay and David Josephs set to string quartets by #Ravel and #Debussy played by the Parker Quartet at @tanglewoodma.bsky.social
Rilke's "Letters to a Young Poet" come alive in "concert-theatre" performance at Tanglewood - Splash Magazines
Review by Bess J.M. Hochstein, Berkshires editor On a rare perfect August afternoon in a summer otherwise beset by torrential rains, searing heat, and unbearable humidity, fans of chamber music and po...
splashmags.com
August 13, 2025 at 12:56 PM
simeonberry.bsky.social
“the train easing / through the ancient countryside, / into the blackness / of nightfall, Etruscan, unknowable. / Sleet /
outside his own window, / he wasn’t afraid now, // he was a part of the performance” —Kevin Prufer, “The Fears” @coppercanyonpress.bsky.social
THE FEARS. He had become fascinated by the way excellent poems sometimes failed to hold together in ways he expected them to. That is, a poem, like a great mind at work on an unsolvable problem, might by necessity meander, might come up against a bad image or a wrong idea, might turn down a particularly dark passage—a frightening passage—only to be confronted by an unexpected crumbling fountain in the form of a satyr out of scale beside a wild swan at the center of a small, unpopulated courtyard late on a windy night in an unfamiliar town, and he realized, of course, that this was not at all what the mind had sought—or so he imagined, looking at the mess of his own writing which, indeed, meandered into unsettling courtyards. On the other side of the window, sleet glittered briefly as it passed beneath the streetlamps before stippling the wet road, and tree branches that only seemed dead swayed in the wind, tapped against his window now and then, the cold outside speaking in strange unison, the tires cutting the sleet, the slap of a flag against its pole—it all seemed to say at once, You don’t really matter, which was exactly the fear that had distracted him at the beginning of this poem. You’re going to vanish, he said quietly to himself, the sentiment having bubbled up just perfectly, a perfect, impossible little thought. Yet he knew the world to be an ordered system. Once the invisible hand of God set it in motion, every occurrence was part of a vast Unfolding of events, each predicated on events that preceded it. Nothing, he knew, was unpredictable, but the limits of his data prevented him from knowing. That he would die was a certainty, but his mind was too small. And what did it mean, to matter? And why should he have fears? The sleet caught the streetlamp’s glare like fleeting insects. So quick. Uncountable. It made sense to live in agreement with the events unfolding around him. He should focus on the poem he was writing, that one with the fountain, the satyr and the swan, that strange courtyard one hot summer night empty of citizenry—it was very late—an August rain coming on now, fat hot drops staining the paving stones beside the abandoned café tables, and far away the rumbling of a train, well lit, in each window a traveler reading a newspaper or looking into a blue, glowing screen, the train easing through the ancient countryside, into the blackness of nightfall, Etruscan, unknowable, Sleet outside his own window, he wasn’t afraid now, he was a part of the performance into which, a hundred years ago, Rilke wrote, I have taken action against fear. I sat up the whole night and wrote; and now I am as thoroughly tired as after a long walk in the fields at Ulsgaard. Those words came down to him, talked to him as he poured himself another drink that winter night not many years ago when he began to write this poem. Kevin Prufer
June 5, 2025 at 11:32 AM
celesteheadlee.bsky.social
ALT text for Invitation
Oh do you have time to linger for just a little while out of your busy and very important day for the goldfinches that have gathered in a field of thistles for a musical battle, to see who can sing the highest note, or the lowest, or the most expressive of mirth, or the most tender? Their strong, blunt beaks drink the air as they strive melodiously not for your sake and not for mine and not for the sake of winning but for sheer delight and gratitude – believe us, they say, it is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in the broken world. I beg of you, do not walk by without pausing to attend to this rather ridiculous performance. It could mean something. It could mean everything. It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote: You must change your life.
February 4, 2025 at 1:26 PM
starcravingmad.bsky.social
Thanks for adding alt text, everyone! It is really helpful for many users.

Mary Oliver: "it is a serious thing / just to be alive / on this fresh morning / in the broken world."
Invitation Mary Oliver Oh do you have time to linger for just a little while out of your busy and very important day for the goldfinches that have gathered in a field of thistles for a musical battle, to see who can sing the highest note, or the lowest, or the most expressive of mirth, or the most tender? Their strong, blunt beaks drink the air as they strive melodiously not for your sake and not for mine and not for the sake of winning but for sheer delight and gratitude— believe us, they say, it is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in the broken world. I beg of you, do not walk by without pausing to attend to this rather ridiculous performance. It could mean something. It could mean everything. It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote: You must change your life.
November 25, 2024 at 1:22 PM