Subscribe for more videos like this: th-cam.com/users/sub... Seamus Heaney's last reading at 92Y. Follow us on Facebook: / 92ndstreety Twitter: / 92y Tumblr: / 92y Instagram: / 92ndstreety 92Y.org: 92Y.org
01:10 Mossbawn 1. Sunlight 04:40 A Kite for Michael and Christopher 07:26 Oysters 10:04 Glanmore Sonnets VII 12:16 Glanmore Sonnets III 14:52 The Harvest Bow 18:20 A Call 20:38 The Baler 23:25 Chanson D’Aventure 27:34 Miracle 29:35 Uncoupled 32:44 Mid-Term Break 35:17 The Blackbird of Glanmore 38:55 The Door Was Open and the House Was Dark 40:11 Clearaces 5 & 8 44:11 In the Attic 48:49 A Kite for Aibhin
This wondrous late reading reminds us of the utter genius and humanity of the man. He spoke for a wholeness in existence earned through listening to language and to the nature around him. He composed Ireland as a capacious habitation. He confronetd the demaons of past and present violence and the unacceptable costs of any unity purchased by denial or exclusion. He did this by sounding out the language of the self- Gaelic, Norse, Anglo Saxon and English. He dug into the peat of the self and the layers of the land - his voice was a vowel cut through of strata and a symphony of consonants lilting all into form. How we miss him. How we need him. These poems of time passing and mortality acknowledged break the heart and rebuild it. It is a great and reverent privilege just to listen to this.
I've become addicted to your poetry, your voice is beautiful. You have me recalling the way my mother would read poetry to me when I was a small girl at her knee. Her knitting and dropping stitches, me looking all over the carpet to see if I could spot them ;) I must have been 3 or 4 years old but the memory of her readings has stayed with me all my life through. My favourite then was The Lady of Shallot :)
Oh that day in Dublin, when I was on another trip across the pond, I first read the headline of the newspaper announcing Seamus Heaney’s death. I stood frozen . My breakfast at the hotel was forgotten for the moment. For a moment the world stopped because of the world loosing him.
01:10 Mossbawn 1. Sunlight
04:40 A Kite for Michael and Christopher
07:26 Oysters
10:04 Glanmore Sonnets VII
12:16 Glanmore Sonnets III
14:52 The Harvest Bow
18:20 A Call
20:38 The Baler
23:25 Chanson D’Aventure
27:34 Miracle
29:35 Uncoupled
32:44 Mid-Term Break
35:17 The Blackbird of Glanmore
38:55 The Door Was Open and the House Was Dark
40:11 Clearaces 5 & 8
44:11 In the Attic
48:49 A Kite for Aibhin
This wondrous late reading reminds us of the utter genius and humanity of the man. He spoke for a wholeness in existence earned through listening to language and to the nature around him. He composed Ireland as a capacious habitation. He confronetd the demaons of past and present violence and the unacceptable costs of any unity purchased by denial or exclusion. He did this by sounding out the language of the self- Gaelic, Norse, Anglo Saxon and English. He dug into the peat of the self and the layers of the land - his voice was a vowel cut through of strata and a symphony of consonants lilting all into form. How we miss him. How we need him. These poems of time passing and mortality acknowledged break the heart and rebuild it. It is a great and reverent privilege just to listen to this.
The great poets are created out of culture and language and spirit of place. This is Seamus Heaney for me.
...we are hunters and gatherers of values. I’ve been thinking about that line every day since I first listened to this video. Such an insightful man.
My goodness this poet is a breath of fresh air through life's tempestuous storms.
I've become addicted to your poetry, your voice is beautiful. You have me recalling the way my mother would read poetry to me when I was a small girl at her knee. Her knitting and dropping stitches, me looking all over the carpet to see if I could spot them ;) I must have been 3 or 4 years old but the memory of her readings has stayed with me all my life through. My favourite then was The Lady of Shallot :)
So.great to hear this presentation Thanks
Beautiful Sunday teatime.
Rip Seamus
Magical
Oh that day in Dublin, when I was on another trip across the pond, I first read the headline of the newspaper announcing Seamus Heaney’s death. I stood frozen . My breakfast at the hotel was forgotten for the moment. For a moment the world stopped because of the world loosing him.
Ecstasy in language.
Fabulous :)
You are missed
xxx
Here celebrating Biden and, as always, Heaney!!!
he sounds frail and uncertain here