Beethoven’s burial march plays when we look into the eyes of Goya’s Third May. Slow march in a smaller key key. The dotted rhythm that pushes when we mourn. Ohoj and her sigh. Contrasts of light and dark, church shadow in the background. Sure, straight lines of rifles. French fire, Napoleon’s machine. Neoclassical nightmare (reading reason, clarity) is about to become. Goya sleep of reason (too many reasons and too little) Produce. Beethoven’s stunning rational fugue knitts his separate strands-shoes hung over time, rising and declining step movements, continuous staccato eight tones that cut the grain. Finally, Fugu is exhausted when all the sadness and reason and heroes as Napoleon eventually exhaust. Trumpets repeated high tones meant the moment of transition, waiting, expectations, fate. Killed are shown killed, blood in the fields. The terror of others waiting in line will follow. Goyino loose brushes on a medium -sized figure similar to Christ are bathed in God’s or reason or in the bright light of the soldier. The funeral march returns, disturbing new rattles in jail. When Napoleon crowned the Emperor, Beethoven erased his name from the score.*
*Goya and Beethoven for the first time lasted high hopes for Napoleon. Beethoven first devoted his third symphony to Napoleon and then deleted his name from the front page.
Look at my latest book, Tennis players like works of art, now available to Amazon. Called “insanely ambitiously” and named one of the 5 presented books of 2024 in the category of art/imagination/creativity from the weekly book of the publisher, tennis as artwork is also called “one of the best books we read in 2024″ (independent book ” ) and “Book of the Year” (Inside Tennis Magazine.)
