Archiv der Kategorie: Ioana Luca im Atelier
Ioana Luca
Das war doch immer so / Video von Detlev Foth
A broken glass was loud in my brain / Digitale Fotoarbeiten von Detlev Foth
A broken glass was loud in my brain 1 Der Heilige Hieronymus im Gehäuse Zeitreise Düsseldorf
A broken glass was loud in my brain
It used to fall on my dreams and cut me in my bed
It used to fall on my dreams and cut me in my bed
I say making love was strange in my bed
Jimi Hendrix
Foth Signatur
Gabriele Münter
Paul Flora
sleeping dog
Sinister minister
Priester 1
Ozzy Osbourne 4
Munch
Munch studio
Ray Davies 3
Ray Davies 2
The Kinks – better days
Leon Bonnat – in the studio
Jimi Hendrix
Jimmy Page 2
Jimmy Page
Ray Davies 4
Slash
Munch Family 2
Ekely Home
The Kinks – better days 2
Jimmy Page and Gibson
A broken glass was loud in my brain – writing
I used to live in a room full of mirrors
All I could see was me
Then I take my spirit and I smash my mirrors
And now the whole world is here for me to see
Jimi Hendrix
A broken glass was loud in my brain -the Munch family
The Beatles
A broken glass was loud in my brain – Düsseldorf
A broken glass was loud in my brain – John Lennon
A broken glass was loud in my brain – Jimi Hendrix
A broken glass was loud in my brain – The Dakota Hotel
A broken glass was loud in my brain – studio
A broken glass was loud in my brain – The Beatles
Paris und Größere schwarze Bewegung / digitale Fotoarbeiten von Detlev Foth
Albrecht Dürer der Jüngere, auch Duerer, erhellt unser Atelier für einen kurzen Moment
MM black shapes
black shapes
studio black shapes
Seltsamismus / Video und Musik Detlev Foth
It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding) / fotoworks Detlev Foth
It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)
Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child’s balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying.
Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fool’s gold mouthpiece
The hollow horn plays wasted words
Proves to warn
That he not busy being born
Is busy dying.
Temptation’s page flies out the door
You follow, find yourself at war
Watch waterfalls of pity roar
You feel to moan but unlike before
You discover
That you’d just be
One more person crying.
So don’t fear if you hear
A foreign sound to your ear
It’s alright, Ma, I’m only sighing.
As some warn victory, some downfall
Private reasons great or small
Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
To make all that should be killed to crawl
While others say don’t hate nothing at all
Except hatred.
Disillusioned words like bullets bark
As human gods aim for their mark
Made everything from toy guns that spark
To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
It’s easy to see without looking too far
That not much
Is really sacred.
While preachers preach of evil fates
Teachers teach that knowledge waits
Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
Goodness hides behind its gates
But even the president of the United States
Sometimes must have
To stand naked.
An‘ though the rules of the road have been lodged
It’s only people’s games that you got to dodge
And it’s alright, Ma, I can make it.
Advertising signs that con you
Into thinking you’re the one
That can do what’s never been done
That can win what’s never been won
Meantime life outside goes on
All around you.
You lose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
Alone you stand with nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your sleeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks
They really found you.
A question in your nerves is lit
Yet you know there is no answer fit to satisfy
Insure you not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not fergit
That it is not he or she or them or it
That you belong to.
Although the masters make the rules
For the wise men and the fools
I got nothing, Ma, to live up to.
For them that must obey authority
That they do not respect in any degree
Who despise their jobs, their destinies
Speak jealously of them that are free
Cultivate their flowers to be
Nothing more than something
They invest in.
While some on principles baptized
To strict party platform ties
Social clubs in drag disguise
Outsiders they can freely criticize
Tell nothing except who to idolize
And then say God bless him.
While one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargles in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society’s pliers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hole
That he’s in.
But I mean no harm nor put fault
On anyone that lives in a vault
But it’s alright, Ma, if I can’t please him.
Old lady judges watch people in pairs
Limited in sex, they dare
To push fake morals, insult and stare
While money doesn’t talk, it swears
Obscenity, who really cares
Propaganda, all is phony.
While them that defend what they cannot see
With a killer’s pride, security
It blows the minds most bitterly
For them that think death’s honesty
Won’t fall upon them naturally
Life sometimes
Must get lonely.
My eyes collide head-on with stuffed graveyards
False gods, I scuff
At pettiness which plays so rough
Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
Kick my legs to crash it off
Say okay, I have had enough
What else can you show me?
And if my thought-dreams could be seen
They’d probably put my head in a guillotine
But it’s alright, Ma, it’s life, and life only.
Bob Dylan
1915 It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)
Goya fegt durch unser Atelier
It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding) 2
1943
1920
Unbemerkte Engel
Kleine Freiheit
Kerouac singt Rimbaud / Digitale Fotoarbeiten von Detlev Foth
Der Kuss II
Das Buch
Rimbaud
Jane Birkin
Kritische Universität
Benno Ohnesorg
Anfortas
Schnee im Schädel da ist Schnee
Der Pfad hinab ist kalt – gefroren
sind die Gesichter
Geronnene Gedanken hängen in den Ästen
Kalte Füße blutleer setzen
In vergangene Spuren – erstarrte Blumen
Die dünne Haut
Gläserne Flächen spiegeln Wolken
Das Lid versperrt den Singsang der Tage
spannt über Mauern
graues Tuch – ein Hundston
würde dunkel Stämme zerspalten
Wo ist das Zittern lösender Schreie
die große Schmelze Wort
Benno Ohnesorg
Arthur Rimbaud
Die gestärkten Hemden
Der Vogelhof
1968
Der Kuss
Kerouac singt Rimbaud
Keith Richards
Jack Kerouac
Großer Kopf Selbst
Kerouac Text gezeichnet
Bob Dylan
It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)“Bob Dylan, Bringing It All Back Home
Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child’s balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying.
Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fools gold mouthpiece
The hollow horn plays wasted words
Proved to warn
That he not busy being born
Is busy dying.
Temptation’s page flies out the door
You follow, find yourself at war
Watch waterfalls of pity roar
You feel to moan but unlike before
You discover
That you’d just be
One more person crying.
So don’t fear if you hear
A foreign sound to you ear
It’s alright, Ma, I’m only sighing.
As some warn victory, some downfall
Private reasons great or small
Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
To make all that should be killed to crawl
While others say don’t hate nothing at all
Except hatred.
Disillusioned words like bullets bark
As human gods aim for their marks
Made everything from toy guns that sparks
To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
It’s easy to see without looking too far
That not much
Is really sacred.
While preachers preach of evil fates
Teachers teach that knowledge waits
Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
Goodness hides behind its gates
But even the President of the United States
Sometimes must have
To stand naked.
An‘ though the rules of the road have been lodged
It’s only people’s games that you got to dodge
And it’s alright, Ma, I can make it.
Advertising signs that con you
Into thinking you’re the one
That can do what’s never been done
That can win what’s never been won
Meantime life outside goes on
All around you.
You loose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
Alone you stand without nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your sleeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks
They really found you.
A question in your nerves is lit
Yet you know there is no answer fit to satisfy
Insure you not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not forget
That it is not he or she or them or it
That you belong to.
Although the masters make the rules
For the wise men and the fools
I got nothing, Ma, to live up to.
For them that must obey authority
That they do not respect in any degree
Who despite their jobs, their destinies
Speak jealously of them that are free
Cultivate their flowers to be
Nothing more than something
They invest in.
While some on principles baptized
To strict party platforms ties
Social clubs in drag disguise
Outsiders they can freely criticize
Tell nothing except who to idolize
And then say God Bless him.
While one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargles in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society’s pliers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hole
That he’s in.
But I mean no harm nor put fault
On anyone that lives in a vault
But it’s alright, Ma, if I can’t please him.
Old lady judges, watch people in pairs
Limited in sex, they dare
To push fake morals, insult and stare
While money doesn’t talk, it swears
Obscenity, who really cares
Propaganda, all is phony.
While them that defend what they cannot see
With a killer’s pride, security
It blows the minds most bitterly
For them that think death’s honesty
Won’t fall upon them naturally
Life sometimes
Must get lonely.
My eyes collide head-on with stuffed graveyards
False gods, I scuff
At pettiness which plays so rough
Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
Kick my legs to crash it off
Say okay, I have had enough
What else can you show me ?
And if my thought-dreams could been seen
They’d probably put my head in a guillotine
But it’s alright, Ma, it’s life, and life only.
On the Road
Fred II
Fred III
Das schwarze Fenster Frühling / Digitale Fotoarbeiten von Detlev Foth
Eine weitere kurze Ekstase auf dem Dach der Kunstakademie Düsseldorf
Eine kurze Ekstase Eingang Kunstakademie Düsseldorf
Große Nackte und Nordfjord
Auge, Fesselung und Nordfjord
Der Kuss
Der letzte Auftritt
Anton von Werner
Gregor von Bochmann
Gregor von Bochmann in Düsseldorf
Pose, Natur und partielle Vergeblichkeit
Auf dem Dach der Akademie spült die Seine
Lebemann Jehly
Drei freundliche Herren aus dem letzten Jahrhundert statten uns einen Besuch ab
Meister Rentsch
Besucher kommen und gehen, und der Künstler mischt sich verlegen unter sie.
Auf dem Dach der Akademie an jedem Tag
Gauguin`s Spazierstöcke mit kleiner Nackten und Hinweisschildchen / Digitale Fotoarbeiten von Detlev Foth
Zuversicht
Malen Malen
Zuwendung und Einheit
Alte Freunde und helfende Hände
In Düsseldorf
Gauguin`s Spazierstöcke mit kleiner Nackten und Hinweisschildchen
Zwei und Straße mit Hund
Das Geld geht unter
Unlösbar sowieso
Der frische Tag hundert Jahre später
Stories From Atelier 72 