In this paper, the author attempts to define and characterize the postsecular musical work. Inspired by previous research in the field of literary studies, where the relationship between postsecularity and the literary work has already been extensively developed, the author proposes to transpose the concepts developed by literary scholars to the field of musicology. Based on a description of selected passion compositions from the 20th and 21st centuries, among which are Paweł Mykietyn’s Passion According to St. Mark, Kaija Saariaho’s La Passion de Simone, Tan Dun’s Water Passion After St. Matthew, Mauricio Kagel’s Sankt-Bach-Passion, the author identifies the key features of a postsecular musical work. The author provides a definition of a post-secular musical work, presents the necessary condition for a musical work to be described as post-secular, and distinguishes six characteristics of such a musical work.

Review: <i>La passion de Dodin Bouffant (The Taste of Things)</i>, directed by Trần Anh Hùng

Le rôle de la passion pour une activité parascolaire dans le fonctionnement scolaire à la fin du secondaire.

Si le Suaire de Turin est au cœur d’une controverse médiatique intense centrée sur la question de son authenticité, sa place dans la recherche historique académique est longtemps restée limitée. Il a surtout été l’objet d’une littérature parascientifique, la sindonologie, autoproclamée « science du linceul » qui a cherché à écrire une « préhistoire » de la relique avant son apparition dans la documentation, au xive siècle, mais s’est peu intéressée à la riche trajectoire de l’objet, passant du statut d’image, à Lirey, en Champagne, à celui de relique de la Passion, à Chambéry puis à Turin. Plusieurs travaux récents ont contribué à combler cette lacune. Parmi eux, une monographie d’Andrea Nicolotti, professeur à l’université de Turin, ambitionne à la fois de répondre aux théories fantaisistes qui entourent l’objet et de retracer sa longue histoire. Parmi les questions que cette longue histoire éclaire, celle de l’évolution des régimes de preuve : les linges funéraires, laissés dans le tombeau du Christ, sont traités par l’exégèse comme preuve de la résurrection, et le Suaire de Turin ajoute des indices visibles de la présence d’un corps. Du Moyen Âge à nos jours, le regard sur cette relique a été guidé par la volonté d’interpréter ces traces comme des preuves qui attestent l’histoire sainte, voire en documentent certains détails que les Évangiles ne décrivent pas. Elle met donc en lumière une généalogie ecclésiale, encore trop peu considérée, du paradigme de la preuve par la trace.

Prise dans une phase de transition religieuse, l’histoire de l’une des premières saintes de l’Afrique romaine, Perpétue, martyrisée en 203 après J.-C. à Carthage, donne à voir l’effet de chevauchement des formes de sensibilité. Le récit de son martyre, la Passion de Perpétue et Félicité , est riche d’épisodes illustrant la confrontation des époques et des rapports d’historicité : les chrétiens les plus convaincus, notamment ceux qui apparaissent dans les sources martyrologiques, veulent s’inscrire dans un nouveau régime sensible, mais continuent de vivre dans une société où ils ont appris à se comporter en pères ou mères de famille, en citoyens libres ou esclaves, en civils ou soldats. Le récit de l’exécution de Perpétue contient ce type d’opposition entre deux modes d’existence devenus inconciliables, comme le montre en particulier ce moment où la sainte, renversée dans l’arène par une vache furieuse, voit sa tunique se déchirer et ses cheveux se détacher. La chrétienne ramène un pan de son vêtement sur sa cuisse dénudée, puis cherche une fibule pour se recoiffer. Se devine à travers ces gestes l’exigence chrétienne du martyre joyeux : la sainte ne veut pas être prise pour une pleureuse ou une suppliante. L’éclairage ethnologique peut aider à mieux saisir les enjeux sensibles de cet épisode minuscule. L’histoire de Perpétue gagne à être lue au prisme des techniques corporelles et de leur savoir partagé. La longue durée des gestes émotifs entre aussi en correspondance avec ce que Aby Warburg a pu désigner comme les résurgences ou survivances de très anciennes manières de faire, repérables dans l’art comme dans le monde social. L’enquête de Ernesto De Martino sur les prefiche de l’Italie méridionale permet d’élargir encore l’analyse : les gestes attendus précèdent l’émotion collective, ils la génèrent et la résument.

ABSTRACT Film historians have long known that the version of Carl Theodor Dreyer’s La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc (1928) shown at its French premiere was heavily censored by the state and the Catholic church. Exactly what was cut, however, has never been entirely clear, meaning that almost all of the critical literature about the subject has been forced to accept the testimony of those who claim to have seen it at the time. An overlooked source that would help resolve the debate is the score commissioned for its Paris premiere. It includes vital evidence in the form of intertitles and actions that correspond to a print acquired by the British Film Institute in 1947. A detailed comparison of screen and musical time convincingly demonstrates that the 1947 print is a copy of the censored version, and a broader analysis of empathetic musical gesture and specially written lyrics for choir and soloists supports that contention. This analysis underlines the valuable contribution that film-music studies can make to film history in helping reveal for the first time exactly what it was to which the authorities objected in Dreyer’s famous film.

Joan of Arc often cries. As Dreyer shows in his film, La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc, these tears are testimony to her suffering before some unjust judges, but they also allow her to unleash another time within her time. This contribution attempts to show how a status of powerlessness, expressed in weeping, can be transformed into a possibility for collective action.

The paper aims to investigate the presence of Dreyer’s La passion de Jeanne d’Arc (1927) in Jean-Luc Godard’s Vivre sa vie (1962) and Notre musique (2004). Through an analysis of the shot and reverse shot technique employed by Godard in the sequences in which Nana and Olga converse with Dreyer’s film, the contribution attempts to show how the Godard work can open a destitute image of woman, the embodiment of an escape from any order of discourse.

The aim of this paper is to examine the presence of nonhuman animals in French medieval drama, with a particular focus on horses and other species brought to perform in liturgical mysteries. Beginning with a brief account of the different ways of representing animals by means of mechanical objects and human impersonations, I then turn to discuss the performance of real animals in the Mystère de la passion, which was staged in the city of Mons in 1501. My analysis is informed by the study of the Livre de conduite du régisseur et le compte de dépenses pour le Mystère de la passion, a work that details the play’s every single animal expense, as well as the specific part played by animals. I will show how the performance unveils a modern zooscenographic understanding of stagecraft that turns the nonhuman animal into an element of paramount importance for the success of the play

Le pote ngre, je veux dire, ce pote dont le coeur est filiale pulsation au rythme du tam-tam d'Afrique, parle ce langage des fleurs, exprime ses sentiments et ides travers les images, aussi dans un langage lmentaire par-del spirituel.(p.18) Faut-il, ici, parler de l'intuition comme source d'inspiration potique, parce que connaissance non rationnelle relevant du simple sentimentou prorer sur la maeutique potique, c'est--dire l'art d'accoucher les pomes.Bien au contraire, il s'agit cans d'interroger l'espace textuel de Prince Arnie Matoko, peupl de "mtaphores obsdantes", et o les mots se heurtent, se pressent, se chevauchent, coulent harmonieusement et se groupent en images (Lablenie, cite par Mpala-Lutebele, 2008, p.129).En d'autres termes, ce travail s'attle interprter des symboles obscurs et flamboyants autour du substantif coeur, sige de toute sensation et motion, pour en faire dcouvrir le sens cach, mettant en relief, tout au moins, les motivations psychologiques inconscientes du pote.De ce fait, il parat sant et imprieux d'apporter compendieusement des prcisions conceptuelles relatives aux vocables "symbolique" et "coeur", tout en considrant les notions sous-jacentes.Le terme "symbolique", l'oeil non voil, renvoie illico aux symboles, puisque la symbolique, en croire Le Robert, est la thorie des symboles, c'est--dire un ensemble des relations et des interprtations lies un symbole qui peut tre un objet, une image, un mot crit ou un son qui reprsente Rsum: La prsente tude porte sur la symbolique du coeur dans l'oeuvre potique de Prince Arnie Matoko.Elle consiste analyser et interprter la vie intrieure du pote par le truchement des symboles lis au substantif "coeur", sige de toute sensation et motion, pour en dbusquer le sens cach, mettant en relief, tout au moins, les motivations psychologiques inconscientes de ce dernier.Allant des interrogations significatives aux hypothses mises, en passant par l'exploitation des axes bien structurs, et s'appuyant essentiellement sur l'hermneutique et la psychocritique, cette tude a dmontr que la posie de Prince Arnie Matoko, saupoudre de mythe personnel et de mtaphores obsdantes, est, en bonne partie, rattache l'expression de la passion et de la rvolte du "je personnel", mais aussi, et surtout, du "je collectif".Ceci dsigne, par-dessus tout, la plurivocit de la symbolique du coeur chez Prince Arnie Matoko dont l'inconscient potique, travers ses vers, dvoile la virginit de son me et celle des autres.

Cette contribution porte sur la détermination nominale au sein du corpus de La Passion de Notre Seigneur selon Saint-Jean en Langage Nègre, datant du xviiie siècle, afin de mettre au jour le système sous-jacent de l’actualisation des noms dans cette variété du proto-créole, en cours dans la Caraïbe du xviiie siècle. L’objectif est d’observer la structuration en émergence de la détermination nominale, mais également d’étudier en quoi celle-ci porte les germes des variétés de créoles à venir. Nous confrontons ainsi les résultats d’analyse du corpus de La Passion avec ceux issus d’un corpus, composés de versions du Petit Prince dans les quatre créoles de la zone, les créoles guadeloupéen, guyanais, haïtien et martiniquais.

Une langue qui a émergé au contact d’autres langues est susceptible de conserver des traces de celles-ci dans son fonctionnement. Ainsi, la phonologie des créoles haïtien (CH), martiniquais (CM) et guadeloupéen (CG), nés au contact du français et de langues africaines peut être marquée par des influences superstratiques liées au français et substratiques de langues africaines. Ce sont les traces substratiques qui nous intéressent dans cette contribution. Elles doivent pouvoir être décelées dans la palatalisation et la nasalisation, phénomènes récurrents dans ces trois créoles. En s’appuyant sur La passion de Notre Seigneur selon St Jean en Langage Nègre (un texte anonyme écrit au xviiie siècle), cet article étudie ces phénomènes dans ces trois créoles au prisme des influences substratiques. S’il est difficile d’identifier la nasalisation dans un texte créole écrit à cette époque, qui utilise la graphie française, ce problème ne se pose guère pour certains cas de palatalisation. L’observation synchronique des trois créoles montre que ces phénomènes y sont récurrents, mais ils le sont davantage dans un créole que dans les autres de sorte qu’on peut les présenter ainsi : CM, CG, CH pour la palatalisation et CH, CM, CG pour la nasalisation, c’est-à-dire que la palatalisation est plus récurrente en CM, en CG et moins en CM, tandis que la nasalisation est plus systématique en CH que dans les deux autres, mais plus en CM qu’en CG.

Recent decades have seen the rise of film installation as a consequence of cinema’s displacement in the digital age. This expansion of film exhibition to the gallery has given rise to what Raymond Bellour terms an other cinema, or a cinematic praxis that opens new possibilities for the theorization of the moving image, its history, and its relation to other disciplines. In a cinematic landscape marked by intermediality and transnationality, expanded cinema offers a path forward for filmmakers and moving-image artists in and from Latin America. In this article, I study the relation between cinema and madness in Carl Theodor Dreyer’s 1928 film La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc and the 2004 film installation La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc (Rozelle Hospital) by Venezuelan artist Javier Téllez. I argue that through his citation of Dreyer’s signature close-ups, his direct intervention in the original work, and his staging of projection, Téllez theorizes the relation between spectatorship and an embodied unreason by enacting a mimetic encounter between the audience and the mentally ill. Téllez embraces the legacy of avant-garde cinema, which sought to highlight film’s ability to suspend a cognitively oriented perception. By experimenting with the material basis of exhibition, Rozelle Hospital imagines a new audiovisual politics that stages an ethical encounter with the mentally ill through an embodied spectatorship.

ABSTRACT Joan of Arc has inspired many works of art. The iconographical discourse of this artistic tradition is twofold: she is portrayed either as the homeland’s saviour or as a religious virgin. The cinematic adaptations by Carl Th. Dreyer and Robert Bresson – respectively La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc (Dreyer, 1928) and Procès de Jeanne d’Arc (Bresson, 1962) – demonstrate, however, that the latter iconographical image is again twofold. Preferring an inexpressive acting style to emotional expression and fragmented bodily representation to bodily wholeness, Bresson portrays Joan as a saint who excels in faith and quietude. As in the literary tradition of the saint’s vita, Joan transcends the now, the physical and the emotional. In La Passion, Dreyer’s continuous emphasis on suffering and death contributes to the portrait of Joan as a martyr. Along with overt symbolic images, the emotional and facial expressiveness of lead actress Falconetti reflects the intense agony of Christ, who, throughout much of human history, has served as the ultimate example for martyrs themselves and artists, including authors working within the genre of the martyr’s passio. To both Dreyer and Bresson, the figure of Joan serves as a bridge, connecting disappointment with the present to passion for the historical.

La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc (1928), directed by C. T. Dreyer, marks a breakthrough with cinema depictions of religious subjects.Settingaside conventional narratives, closed and declamatory, and concentrating on the interaction between semi-isolated images, appealing to multiples senses, the film transfers to the observer the task of animating and conferring global meaning to them. Though, in the twilight of silent cinema, Dreyer’s film is celebrated by its formal characteristics. Through this article, we propose to explore the representation of devotional practices on cinema through an analysis of Dreyer’s film, combining visual and fil studies approaches and establishing connections between its images and other media.

Reviewed by: Claude Debussy: A Critical Biography by François Lesure Mark DeVoto Claude Debussy: A Critical Biography. By François Lesure. Translation and revised edition by Marie Rolf. (Eastman Studies in Music, vol. 159.) Rochester, NY: University of Rochester Press, 2019. [xvi, 525 p. ISBN 9781580469036 (hardcover), $49.95; ISBN 9781787444515 (e-book), price varies.] Notes with bibliographical references, indexes. Among a century of books on the life and work of Claude Debussy, the most important biographical studies began with several works by Léon Vallas— Debussy (1862–1918) (Paris: Plon, 1926); Les idées de Claude Debussy, musicien français (Paris: Éditions musicales de la Librairie de France, 1927), translated by Maire O’Brien as The Theories of Claude Debussy (Oxford: University Press, 1929); Claude Debussy et son temps (Paris: F. Alcan, 1932); Achille-Claude Debussy (Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1944)—and include several by Edward Lockspeiser—Debussy (London: J. M. Dent, 1936), followed by the two-volume study, Debussy: His Life and Mind (London: Cassell, 1962). Equally well regarded is Marcel Dietschy’s La passion de Claude Debussy (Neuchâtel: La Baconnière, 1962), which appeared in English, edited and translated by William Ashbrook and Margaret G. Cobb, as A Portrait of Claude Debussy (Oxford: Clarendon, 1990). Claude Debussy: A Critical Biography now makes its appearance as the most comprehensive biographical study of Debussy in many years. It is much larger than the original French edition, which was in its time François Lesure’s culminating achievement. Updated with new and expertly edited material, the English version now has a dual authorship, which makes it the most detailed examination of Debussy’s protean career yet seen. Lesure, who died in 2001 just as his book was ready for the printer, had been director of the Music Division of the Bibliothèque nationale de France and was the renowned author of several previous studies of Debussy as well as the editor-in-chief of the ongoing edition of the complete musical works, the Œuvres complètes de Claude Debussy (Paris: Durand-Costallat, 1985–). Claude Debussy: Biographie critique (Paris: Librairie Arthème Fayard, 2003) has 460 well-annotated pages with an additional 136 pages given over to Lesure’s catalogue of Debussy’s compositions with “L” numbers, which were later revised. This new translation has been greatly enlarged by Marie Rolf, professor of music at the Eastman School of Music and a member of the editorial team of the Œuvres complètes, for which she also edited the score of La mer. Rolf had worked closely with Lesure for sixteen years and was able to make use of his research materials after his death. Her work has also benefited from the appearance of many new additions to the corpus of Debussy documentation in the sixteen years since Lesure’s biography was published, including a revised edition of Debussy’s Correspondance, 1872–1918 (Paris: Gallimard, 2005), which had previously appeared as Correspondance, 1884–1918 (Paris: Hermann, 1993), this resource being just one of many from which Rolf was able to derive more than two thousand notes and references. Lesure did not number the thirty-four chapters of his book. For the English version, Rolf has reordered and combined some of these and numbered them with new titles (twenty-nine in all) and some new subheadings. [End Page 83] The subtitle of the book is precise: this critical biography is very much a biography of the abundant critical writing about Debussy, by such able writers as Paul Dukas and Louis Laloy. Readers familiar with la presse musicale usually know what to expect; this book reveals the surprising degree of sympathetic understanding of Debussy’s art in France in his own time, and to an extent elsewhere as well. Where Lockspeiser, in two well-documented volumes, sought to place Debussy’s thought and musical aesthetic within the context of the artistic life of la belle époque, Lesure’s approach to Debussy’s life is more closely tied to the composer’s daily existence and events—especially concert life—with which Debussy was directly involved as composer and performer, and obliquely (as well as monetarily) as a well-known and barbed critic...

Abstract In 1952, the Italian film historian Lo Duca, having discovered a lost print of Carl Theodor Dreyer’s La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc (1928), created a sonorized version of the film. This article details the history of the project and examines the use of baroque music with the moving image more generally. It also considers the vicissitudes of using pre-existent recordings and proposes a notion of aleatoric synchronization.

Der vorliegende Essay untersucht eine enthusiastische christliche Volksbewegung und ihre Rolle beim Bau der neuen Abteikirche Sankt Salvator in Sankt Martial von Limoges in den 1020er Jahren. Die ersten Erscheinungsformen dieser Religiosität waren die Gottesfriedensversammlungen in den Jahren 990-1030 ; Pilgermassen eilten durch das Land, die Heiligenverehrung und damit verbundene Liturgien wurden initiiert oder neu belebt und schließlich verbreiteten sich ikonoklastische „Häresien“ im einfachen Volk, die die Kirche und ihre Liturgie ablehnten. In Limoges flammte bei einer Gottesfriedensversammlung 994 der Kult um Sankt Martial auf und von nun an eilten alljährlich in der Fastenzeit Scharen von Pilgern herbei. 1018 wurde die Menge zu Tode getrampelt ; nach Ansicht Adémars de Chabannes bestärkte dieses Ereignis anti-kirchliche Bewegungen. In diesem Schmelztiegel im Limoges der 20er Jahre des neuen Jahrhunderts wurde der Bau einer neuen Kirche maiori amplitude in Angriff genommen, deren Grundriss auf die Aufnahme der Pilgerscharen zugeschnitten war. Die neue Architektur gewährte Laien, einfachen Leuten aus dem Volk, Männern und Frauen einen bis dahin nie dagewesenen Zugang. Mit den großen Pilgerkirchen eröffnete sich für die Pilger ein neues Zeitalter, in dem neue religiöse, ökonomische, soziale und intellektuelle Bewegungen entstanden.

Reviewed by: Medieval Women on Film: Essays on Gender, Cinema and History ed. by Kevin J. Harty Susan Aronstein kevin j. harty, ed., Medieval Women on Film: Essays on Gender, Cinema and History. North Carolina: McFarland and Company, 2020. Pp. 208. isbn: 978–1–4766–6844–4. $39.95. Beginning with the publication of Cinema Arthuriana: Essays on Arthurian Film in 1991, Kevin J. Harty’s work on the ‘reel’ Middle Ages has been invaluable for the study of medieval cinema, and Medieval Women on Film is a welcome contribution to this work. Chronicling the cinematic fortunes of medieval women, fictional and historical, the volume’s essays offer an insightful cross-disciplinary exploration of ‘the multiplicity of contradictory roles’ medieval women have played on film for over a century—‘as role models, as saviors, as saints, as sinners, as viragos, as victims, and as victimizers’ (p. 3). Amy Kaufman’s analysis of Hollywood’s Guinevere in the context of ‘evolving anxieties about women and sex in each cinematic generation’ places film Guineveres, from Vanessa Redgrave (1967) to Keira Knightley (2004), in the ‘feminist discourse of [their] time’ (p. 19). In the end, Kaufman concludes, filmmakers’ ‘troubling answer’ to ‘handling’ Guinevere ‘may be the one provided by . . . King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, which has no Guinevere at all’ (p. 30). Usha Vishnuvajjala’s exploration of Morgan le Fay on film demonstrates that cultural discourses about women have also determined Morgan’s characterization, as films from the 2000s displace ‘contemporary [End Page 73] misogyny onto the past,’ resignifying the complex and sympathetic Morgan of the 1980s (p. 48). Valerie Johnson’s study of Maid Marian provides yet another example of the disturbing modern misogyny that persists in films set in the Middle Ages; her examination of Robin Hood films from the 1920s to the 2000s finds that ‘neomedieval archetypes [always] dictate Marian’s behavior, her story potential, her narrative role, and ultimately her value’ (p. 69). Of all the fictional screen women studied here, only Isolde, as Joan Tasker Grimbert argues, seems to escape this fate. Grimbert, however, gives medieval sources and not ‘modern feminism’ (or filmmakers) the credit for ‘Isolde’s cinematic characterization’ (p. 64). Turning to historical women, Sandra Gorgievski explores Lady Godiva’s film career, arguing that Godiva’s inconsistent cinematic characterization—‘dutiful wife, feminist activist, and sex symbol’—stems from ‘the audience’s expectation of a film’s genre . . . [and] the version of the legend [they are] familiar with’(p. 144). Fiona Tolhurst shows that narrative expectations also limit Eleanor of Aquitaine, as films never allow her to become the female hero proposed by 20th-century feminism’s Golden Myth of Eleanor. Instead, from Beckett to Ridley Scott’s Robin Hood, filmmakers reframe her, using the medieval Black Legend to discredit Eleanor in various ways—as an adulteress, a bad mother, a catty wife, a jealous murderess, a traitor, a rebel. Among the historical women discussed in the collection, only Joan of Arc, as Kevin J. Harty demonstrates, has been allowed a heroic portrayal on film; however, she, too, has been subjected to the visions and agendas of filmmakers who have ‘wrestled with Joan the simple peasant girl, Joan the androgyne, Joan the woman, Joan the doubting sinner, Joan the standard-bearer of a nation, and Joan the self-assured saint’ (p. 196). In addition to these analyses of medieval women’s cinematic histories, the volume offers four in-depth studies of individual films. Donald L. Hoffman examines Fritz Lang’s The Nibelungen, arguing that Lang’s legendary queens ‘despite being part of an exciting new medium . . . are creatures of an old worldview’ who precipitate Germany’s fall from myth into history (p. 94). Andrew B.R. Elliott, reading La Passion de Beatrice as both a Tavernier film and a product of French cinema in the 1980s and 90s, finds that this film also remains trapped in old worldviews; relying on a ‘fundamental gender essentialism’ that equates women with suffering and exploitation and men with violence and domination, Beatrice promises but does not deliver ‘a progressive, empowering and refreshingly different film that dares to depict genuine female agency’ (pp. 130, 116). Joseph M. Sullivan and Kristin...

Lors de l’Exposition universelle de 1889, Charles Garnier propose un vaste panorama de l’histoire de l’habitation humaine, et notamment la reconstitution d’une maison grecque du temps de Périclès. L’article analyse l’ensemble des documents produits par l’architecte pour cette réalisation unique, ainsi que les textes d’accompagnement rédigés en collaboration avec Auguste Ammann et Frantz Jourdain. L’objectif est d’éclairer les choix de l’architecte, de contextualiser sa démarche, mais aussi d’identifier ses sources archéologiques. En dépit de son érudition manifeste, sa réalisation présente une fantaisie à la grecque, dont le rôle est moins de fixer une réalité historique que de donner une image évocatrice et valorisante de la vie quotidienne des anciens Grecs, et de nourrir la passion de ses contemporains pour l’histoire.