The name one has

             So that I could mark it, the continuance of

             quality could in some way be that, the time
             of accord. For us, as beneath the falling water
                      we draw breath,
                      look at the sky.
             Talking to the man hitching a lift back
             from the hospital, I was incautious in sympathy:
             will she be back soon I was wishing to
             encourage his will to suppose. I can hardly
             expect her back he said and the water
             fell again, there was this sheet, as the time
                      lag yawned, and quality
                      became the name you have,
             like some anthem to the absent forces of nature.
             Ethnic loyalty, breathe as you like we in fact
             draw it out differently, our breath is gas
             in the mind. That awful image of choking.

The present American government has
challenged the latent ecumenicism in
every honest and inquiring heart, to
recoil into denial of both qualities.
At this, it is said to have succeed-
ed; but how hollowly, how transitor-
ily does that intimidating edict a-
chieve our hearing, given the dial-
ect of the voices which give this
verdict. It is not of the languages
of our continent -- French, Swahili,
Sioux, Spanish, Dutch, German, Gael-
ic, Italian -- but of our illiterate
merchants of obliteration as revenge.

We do not risk choking on the breath
of our descent, but on its aliena-
tion from others who would comprise 
ourselves.

J.H. Prynne
The White Stones
  Concerning Quality, Again
  first verse
New York Review Books, 2016©

Carlo Scarpa
  Olivetti
  Venice

Ivan Terestchenko
  Beach fire

Out, seeing: Ivan Terestchenko in Marrakech

This picture goes back about 8 years,

of a man carrying water on the street

in Marrakech. An incidental testament

to what still photography can show, a

rhythm in architecture, for one thing.

Ivan Terestchenko
Visual Diary
  Silhouette ...
2010©

People who make jam

One could derive the foundation
of this page by a simple act of
triangulating certain influence
from other pages, listed in the
sidebar under Context. They are
the people who make jam, and it
is up to you to investigate who
they are, although in one case,
it is obvious. Another, is less
so, having been deleted to keep
stray attention from being paid
to a member of that family. But
the third I interrupted one day
with a transatlantic call, hint
hint, and rang off promptly, so
as not to put at risk the fruit.

Michael George
Sean, traveler in Aubrac
2013

Vive la République

Stefan Pichler Goncalvez

Tricouleur, Ivan Terestchenko

Le Sept

Let's go ahead and be corny:

the whole schtick was master-

fully staged, of course — the 

courtyard of the Louvre, the 

Beethoven chorus from the 9th,

the youngest leader of the na-

tion since Bonaparte, not by a 

coup d’état. The clarifying wit 

of I.M. Pei’s “foyer” struck us 

as the capstone of the occasion; 

the transparent, universally re-

cognized monument to the Interna-

tional Style, suggesting an entry 

point all over again. None of it 

makes sense to Americans who voted 

for our little Donny Thump-Thump,

masturbating his way through his

great man fantasy of history; who 

mime his Thump, and lobotomize 

themselves for it at Fox, when

he telephones in another chant; 

they wall themselves off from ev-

erything having to do with border-

less humanity, to say nothing of 

a humanism reviled by their heret-

ic pastors. But if one wanted a 

quiet star to shame the starch out 

of Teresa May, and brush American 

impostorship aside, there he was, 

a creature of Europe with friends.

Make the day count? Who knows.

All one sees, is one renewing

wave, not cresting. Our newest,

bravest continent; the homeward 

shore of humanity.

The Daily Express

May 8, 2017©

Ivan Terestchenko

Tricouleur

Full of hope this day for France

Pablo Picasso

Message to Jean Cocteau

Ink and watercolor on card

St.-Raphaël

1919

Ivan Terestchenko

Tricouleur

News of Haute-Savoie

    On the bright side, have

    you noticed how few com-

    plaints we hear today of

    boring weather patterns?

    Perish any thought, that

    a human is climate-made.

Ivan Terestchenko

La Clusaz

2009

Diamond bracelets Woolworth doesn't sell, ba-by

  The Duke of Devonshire allowed
  a drawing that had been in his
  family for 290 years to be auc-
  tioned some 5 years ago, fetch-
  ing the highest price ever ach-
  ieved by a work on paper. Such
  things come and go, don't they. 

Raphael

Head of an Apostle

ca 1518

Ivan Terestchenko

photography

2009

Jimmy McHugh

  and Dorothy Fields

I can't give you anything

  but love

1928

Episodes for the mentalities

  Like a restive Ishmael, in
  need of resort to sea, I 
  revisit the polymath works
  of Ivan Terestchenko from
  time to time. In fact, I
  gave myself the pleasure a-
  gain yesterday, and came a-
  way refreshed by a distinct
  impression that a state of
  méchance - which translates
  poorly as our word, malice -
  is highly dependent upon in-
  cident and bad illumination.
  There just are not tens of
  millions of persons in this
  country who will respond to
  a call of malice. Mischance 
  is a fluke, not a trait.

     Merci.

i    Ivan Terestchenko

     drawing in ink on paper

     ca 1995

     2009

ii   René Maltête

      1930 - 2000

      tribute, Terestchenko

      2009

iv  Ivan Terestchenko

     ca 1996

     Project for a dust jacket

       or gallery announcement

    Sailor drawings, made at sea

    [Demand publication: it could come]

The whole damn ranch

                                  Elsewhere Anchises,

          Fatherly and intent, was off in a deep green valley

          Surveying and reviewing souls consigned there,

          Those due to pass to the light of the upper world.

          It so happened he was just then taking note

          Of his whole posterity, the destinies and doings,

          Traits and qualities of descendants dear to him,

          But seeing Aeneas come wading through the grass

          Towards him, he reached his two hands out

          In eager joy, his eyes filled up with tears

          And he gave a cry: 

                             At last! Are you here at last?

          I always trusted that your sense of right

          Would prevail and keep you going to the end ..

Virgil

Aeneid

  Book VI 

  916 et seq.

op. posth.  

ca 29-19 BC

Seamus Heaney

  translation

op. posth.

Faber & Faber, 2016©

Ivan Terestchenko

  photography

2010

Arms and the man

  Not so many hours ago, a

  rather loud head-of-state-

  to-be picked a quarrel in

  our language, with a mag-

  azine for its opinion of a

  steakhouse in a building

  with his name on it. We're

  all on notice, to beef up.

It didn't always happen, of course, that the arbiter of life and death on our minor little coil would plump for enter-prises blustering his name. We'd have said, lustering, but the neologism would have emptied the room, of anyone cognizant of the difference between a clip joint and statecraft.

  This is Christmas Eve, and

  we are circumspect where 

  the foibles of consumption

  are concerned. But it is

  as good a time as any, to

  reiterate a belief of long

  acceptance, that any child

  who hustles his weaknesses

  is incongruous as a hero.

  

  He's every bit as apt to

  adore our enemies, cave to

  our clients, and call for

  nuclear shuffleboard, in

  the middle of morning tea.
  You'd think he had lost, 
  or knew he did. 

Dance studio
  Betty Lasker, photography

Dinner at home in Washington
  Photographer unknown
  1962

Study for our masthead
  Ivan Terestchenko, designer
  Tassos Paschalis, photography
  2010

Sea change

Barbados, an island we love un-
idly, is leeward and windward, in
her commanding vantage point atop 
the Grenadines. When I encounter-
ed this visionary experience of 
her Atlantic side, I felt the af-
finity of an indulgent sojourner
there; but the temptation to hop
into my rented Jeep was great, to 
haul ass west, to gentler parishes.

It would be idle of one to say,
I don't know about you, in con-
nection with our Constitution's
provision of a pristine month
remaining to us all, before the
onslaught of a minority thug's
sworn and already unfurling bes-
tiality. One does know about you,
because you come back, even with-
out remark, just to claim the
beach. It doesn't need an excuse.

I wish to protect December, here,
for the treasure it always yields.
In January, it will be absurd to
affect a disengagement: we owe a
knife at the throat, its answer.

For now, I do wish to commemorate
the American Thanksgiving, even if
a serene December is far-fetched,
as an accident of grace one could
ever expect, before our looming 
storm is turned away.

To this, it would not be undignified
to be dedicated. To that inevitable
dispersal, every resident and guest
of these shores deserves a Thanks-
giving of hope and resolution.

To readers overseas, especially the
many in France, I hope that our exam-
ple of catastrophe may gird and guide
your navigation of similar straits.
We think of the fleet of France, off
the beaches at Yorktown, and we know
fraternité can never expire, in sub-
stance or necessity.

On y va.

Adam Patterson
Study for Transgressing
  the Atlantic, Barbados
2016

Ivan Terestchenko
tricouleur