lunes, 26 de octubre de 2009
The guqin (clic here Wiki) (simplified/traditional: 古琴; pinyin: gǔqín; Wades-Giles ku-ch'in; pronounced [kùtɕʰǐn] ( listen); literally "ancient stringed instrument") is the modern name for a plucked seven-string Chinese musical instrument of the zither family. It has been played since ancient times, and has traditionally been favored by scholars and literati as an instrument of great subtlety and refinement, as highlighted by the quote "a gentleman does not part with his qin or se without good reason," as well as being associated with the ancient Chinese philosopher Confucius. It is sometimes referred to by the Chinese as "the father of Chinese music" or "the instrument of the sages".
Traditionally the instrument was called simply qin (Wade-Giles ch'in) but by the twentieth century the term had come to be applied to many other musical instruments as well: the yangqin hammered dulcimer, the huqin family of bowed string instruments, and the Western piano are examples of this usage. The prefix "gu-" (meaning "ancient") was later added for clarification. It can also be called qixianqin (lit. "seven-stringed instrument"). The guqin is not to be confused with the guzheng, another Chinese long zither also without frets, but with moveable bridges under each string. Because Robert Hans van Gulik's famous book about the qin is called The Lore of the Chinese Lute, the guqin is sometimes inaccurately called a lute. Other incorrect classifications, mainly from music compact discs, include "harp" or "table-harp".
The guqin is a very quiet instrument, with a range of about four octaves, and its open strings are tuned in the bass register. Its lowest pitch is about two octaves below middle C, or the lowest note on the cello. Sounds are produced by plucking open strings, stopped strings, and harmonics. The use of glissando—sliding tones—gives it a sound reminiscent of a pizzicato cello, fretless double bass or a slide guitar. The qin is also capable of a lot of harmonics, of which 91 are most commonly used and indicated by the dotted positions. By tradition the qin originally had five strings, but ancient qin-like instruments with 10 or more strings have been found. The modern form has been standardized for about two millennia.
El guqin (clic aquí Wiki) ▶ (ayuda·info) (en chino: 古琴; en pinyin: gǔqín; en Wade-Giles: ku-ch'in; literalmente “antiguo instrumento de cuerda”) es el nombre moderno de un instrumento musical chino de siete cuerdas de la misma familia de la cítara (中華絃樂噐/中华弦乐器). El guqin ha sido interpretado desde los tiempos antiguos, como instrumento preferido de eruditos e intelectuales por su carácter sutil y refinado. Los chinos lo llaman a menudo 「國樂之父/国乐之父」, que significa “padre de la música china”.
El nombre tradicional era mateo pe 「琴」, que también puede ser escrito 「琹」, 「珡」 y de otras maneras antiguas, pero desde el siglo XX la palabra fue aplicada para referirse también a otros instrumentos musicales. El yangqin 「揚琴/扬琴」, el huqin 「胡琴」, ambos instrumentos de cuerda, y el piano occidental (chino tradicional: 鋼琴; chino simplificado: 钢琴; pinyin: gāng qín; que significa “instrumento de cuerda de acero”) son algunos ejemplos del uso de la palabra “qin” en otros instrumentos, por eso se adhirió el prefijo "gu-" 「古」; que significa “antiguo”, para la diferenciación. También se lo llama qixianqin (「七絃琴」; “instrumento de siete cuerdas”). No debe ser confundido con el guzheng 「古箏/古筝」, otro instrumento de la familia de la cítara, también sin trastes y con puentes bajo cada cuerda. Debido al nombre del conocido libro de Robert Hans van Gulik The Lore of the Chinese Lute, sobre el guqin, éste es frecuente y erróneamente llamado laúd. Otras denominación incorrecta, encontrada sobre todo en discos compactos de música, es por ejemplo el de “arpa".
El sonido que produce el guqin es bajo y muy suave, con un rango de unas cuatro octavas. Su tono más bajo es de dos octavas por debajo del do central del piano. Tradicionalmente tiene cinco cuerdas, pero se han encontrado instrumentos similares de la antigüedad con diez cuerdas o más. La forma moderna de siete cuerdas ha sido la estándar durante dos milenios. Muchas personas que tocan el guqin o que han escuchado a alguien tocándolo afirman que la música de aquel instrumento es muy similar a la del género blues.
ricardo marcenaro bitácora. Cardo de las Pampas Argentinas, Photos: Ricardo Marcenaro. Cardos de las Pampas Argentinas
El cardo de las Pampas Argentinas era visto antiguamente como un símbolo propicio, su existencia en un campo garantizaba buenas cosechas, donde hay cardos la tierra es fértil, lo nace sabiendo cualquiera que sepa de criollas costumbres.
En mi jardín del Té, que así se llama pues como el Té ofrece un camino de sabiduría, lo hace con los que vienen y conmigo, le debo mucho, siempre hay lugar para que un cardo crezca, los amo, sus flores son muy bellas, la estructura de la planta, sus hojas vellosas y nervudas que cuando jóvenes son brillantes, grandes, brotan con fuerza.
Su crecer es un auspicio de lo bueno que tiene mi tierra que enriquezco, cuido y custodio como el cardo custodia.
Su florecer en un jardín de Olivos, barrio lleno de jardines iguales rapados militarmente donde el cardo es un insulto y no se permite, es un irme en la imaginación al campo, a los caballos, al aire de la tarde que corre por la casa mientras los árboles movidos por el viento sugieren formas antológicas de la música.
Si Atahualpa Yupanqui dice: “Porque no engraso los ejes me llaman el abandonao (abandonado), si a mí me gustan que suene pa’qué (para qué) los voy a engrasar” Ricardo dice: “Porque no mato mis cardos me llaman el abandonao (abandonado) si me gustan sus suertes pa’qué (para qué) los voy a arrancar”
Amo al cardo, me hace vivir donde quiero, me llena de lo que amo, mi flor y mi tierra.
Dedicado a todos los que amamos el campo, la naturaleza, la gente buena. RM
Music: Pierre Hamon. Flute Concert. in the Musée de Cluny. National Museum of the Middle Ages. Paris. France. 17-2-2009. Complete. 11 YouTube vid
Pierre Hamon is a french musician who is interested in flutes from all over the world. For fifteen years he has been a regular collaborator of Jordi Savall, with whom he has recorded many cds and performed all over the world. He is co-director of the medieval music ensemble Alla Francesca and recorder teacher at the Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique et de Danse de Lyon (
The songs from this solo flute recital were also recorded in studio for the Cd album "Hypnos" (Zig-Zag territoires, ZZT090101).
Pierre Hamon / flûtes à bec et traversières, flûtes doubles, cornemuses...
Flûtiste à bec au parcours atypique, Pierre Hamon se passionne tout jeune pour les répertoires les plus anciens, baroques et antérieurs, tout en poursuivant des études de mathématiques et physiques avant de décider de s'orienter exclusivement vers la musique.
Il est aujourd'hui professeur au Conservatoire National de Musique et de danse de Lyon.
Son instrumentarium ne ressemble à aucun autre. Constitué de flûtes médiévales, renaissances et baroques de toutes tailles, il comporte aussi de très nombreux instruments issus des univers traditionnels.
Il travaille en confrontation avec divers instrumentistes du monde, comme disciple de flûte indienne bansuri auprès d'Hariprasad Chaurasia ou lors de rencontres avec des musiciens de toutes origines (Inde, Moyen-Orient, Amérindiens du Nord et du Sud...). Il maîtrise ainsi de nombreuses techniques parmi lesquelles celle du souffle continu.
Il se produit en récital solo, mêlant musiques médiévales et contemporaines, est cofondateur et codirecteur de l'ensemble Alla francesca (avec Brigitte Lesne), et se produit régulièrement comme soliste avec Jordi Savall.
Outre son abondante discographie avec Alla francesca, on peut l'entendre dans de très nombreux enregistrements de musique ancienne, et en récital solo ("Lucente stella", 10 de Répertoire).
Apollo Flaying Marsyas
Jusepe de Ribera (clic here Wiki) (January 12, 1591 - September 2, 1652) was a Spanish Tenebrist painter and printmaker, also known as José de Ribera in Spanish and as Giuseppe Ribera in Italian. He was also called by his contemporaries and early writers Lo Spagnoletto, or "the Little Spaniard". Ribera was a leading painter of the Spanish school, although his mature work was all done in Italy.
José de Ribera (clic aquí Wiki) (Játiva, 12 de enero de 1591 – Nápoles, 1652); pintor tenebrista español del siglo XVII, también conocido como Jusepe de Ribera o con su nombre italianizado: Giuseppe Ribera. Fue apodado por sus contemporáneos Lo Spagnoletto, «el españolito», por su baja estatura y porque reivindicaba sus orígenes firmando sus obras como «Jusepe de Ribera, español» o «setabense» (de Játiva). Ribera es un pintor destacado de la escuela española, aunque su obra se hizo íntegramente en Italia y de hecho, no se conocen ejemplos seguros de sus inicios en España.
Iktara or Ektara
Sain Marna was legendry Iktara player from central Punjab in Pakistan. He was a wandring sufi mystic mostly seen at truck stops on highways. He was discovered and introduced by Radio Pakistan in 1950's. Sain died around mid sixties while wandering in Punjab.
Ektara (Bengali: একতারা, Punjabi: ਇਕ ਤਾਰ; literally "one-string", also called iktar, ektar, yaktaro gopichand) is a one-string instrument used in Bangladesh, India and Pakistan.
In origin the ektara was a regular string instrument of wandering bards and minstrels from India and is plucked with one finger. The ektara usually has a stretched single string, an animal skin over a head (made of dried pumpkin/gourd, wood or coconut) and pole neck or split bamboo cane neck.
Pressing the two halves of the neck together pushes the peghead away from the body, thereby tightening the string and raising its pitch. The modulation of the tone with each slight flexing of the neck gives the ektara its distinctive sound. There are no markings or measurements to indicate what pressure will produce what note, so the pressure is adjusted by ear.
The various sizes of ektara are soprano, tenor, and bass. The bass ektara, sometimes called a dotara often has two strings (as literally implied by do, "two").
Ektar and Kirtan
These instruments are commonly used in Kirtan chanting, which is a Hindu devotional practice of singing the divine names and mantras in an ecstatic call and response format. Used by Sadhus, or wandering holy men. Also, the ektara is used for Sufi chanting as well as by the Bauls of Bengal.
The ektara has been made popular in the United States by devotional Kirtan wallahs, such as the legendary Western sadhu Bhagavan Das, author of Its Here Now, Are You? and of Be Here Now and 1970s fame and kirtan recording artist.
Ektara is the most ancient form of string instrument found in the Eastern parts of India, whose family stays scattered all over the country, the Bin being one of its Up-country close cousins. Though it has a humble tribal beginning, but has been, through the ages, associated and popularized by the ascetic and minstrel tradition of songs in Bengal, and all throughout. This again, like the Bangla dotara, has its roots in the "Rahr Bangla" comprising of the districts of Birbhhum, Bankura and Nadia.
A typical Bengali Ektara is constructed out of a half of a dried gourd shell serving as the sound-box, with a metal string running right through the middle of the shell; at the top, the string is tied to a knob, which adjusts the tension the of the string and thereby, the tuning—the knob and the string-tension is supported by two bamboo-strips, tied to two opposite sides of the gourd shell.
The playing style of this instrument is a simultaneous pluck and gong, matching the rhythm of the music. The Ektara and the Ghati Baya, together form a complete set accompaniments, especially to Devotional and Deolati musical traditions. The string, as in a Dotara, is tuned to the main/root note of the composition.
Ektara in Punjabi folk musicNowadays the ektara is widely used by folk singers especially by Sufi singers in Punjab and Sindh. Traditional and modern forms of bhangra sometimes use an ektara or tumbi to accompany the singer and dhol.
El ek tara es uno de los instrumentos de cuerda pulsada más simples que existen. Se utiliza sólo como acompañamiento, brindando apoyo detrás de una melodía. Ek tara significa literalmente una cuerda, la cual corre a lo largo de una caña de bambú que está a su vez fija a una calabaza.
Geografía: Nueva Caledonia. Oceanía, Geography: New Caledonia. Oceania, Music: Ohagi Yasuji. Cielo Abierto
Better view - Mejor vista:
Nueva Caledonia (clic aquí Wiki) (Nouvelle-Calédonie, en francés; Kanaky en canaco) es un archipiélago de Oceanía situado en la Melanesia pocos grados al norte del Trópico de Capricornio. Esta es una colectividad sui generis, relacionada con Francia, y no una colectividad de ultramar, como lo son la Guayana Francesa y Mayotte. El acuerdo de Numea le dio a la colectividad un status particular, un referéndum, con el que podría decidirse su independencia o su conservación en el seno de la República francesa está previsto entre 2014 y 2018. Dista de la metrópoli 20 000 km. Su territorio comprende aproximadamente 19 100 km². Se sitúa en el sudoeste del Océano Pacífico 1 500 km al este de Australia y 2 000 km al norte de Nueva Zelanda. Su código postal comienza por 988.
New Caledonia (clic here Wiki)  (French: officially: Nouvelle-Calédonie; colloquially: (la) Calédonie; popular nicknames: (la) Kanaky, (le) Caillou), is a "sui generis collectivity" of France located in the region of Melanesia in the southwest Pacific. It comprises a main island (Grande Terre), the Loyalty Islands, and several smaller islands. Approximately half the size of Taiwan, it has a land area of 18,575.5 square kilometres (7,172 sq mi). The population was estimated in January 2009 to be 249,000. The capital and largest city of the territory is Nouméa. The currency is the CFP franc.
Since 1986 the United Nations Committee on Decolonization has included New Caledonia on the United Nations list of Non-Self-Governing Territories. New Caledonia is set to decide whether to remain within the French Republic or become an independent state in a referendum to be held between 2014 and 2019.
Nouméa, the capital, is also the seat of the Secretariat of the Pacific Community (formerly the South Pacific Commission), an international organization.
If someday I had to leave my country, this is my paradise to stay the last years of my life
Si algún día tengo que dejar mi país, este es mi paraíso para permanecer los últimos años de mi vida
Ustad is a great master of the shenai:
This tube-like instrument gradually widens towards the lower end. It usually has between six and nine holes. It employs two sets of double reeds, making it a quadruple reed woodwind. By controlling the breath, various tunes can be played on it.
Ustad (Master) Bismillah Khan was a well-known shehnai player. Another player of the shehnai is the Ahmadi Black American jazz musician, Yusef Lateef. Dave Mason played shehnai on the Rolling Stones' 1968 hit song "Street Fighting Man".
Ustad Bismillah Khan, the greatest living exponent of an evocative instrument, the shehnai, received the Bharat Ratna in 2001. The 91-year-old maestro talks to The Indian Express Editor-in-Chief Shekhar Gupta on NDTV 24×7’s Walk the Talk programme about his riyaaz, the oneness of divinity, his unflagging love for music, and above all, his faith in humanity
• Ustaad Bismillah Khan, I am very grateful to you for agreeing to speak to us on our programme.
Let me tell you I have very little to say, if it’s to talk nonsense. I don’t know anything but music; if you ask about that, I can say many things.
• You must practice for hours on end.
Oh endlessly. These temples of ours in Benaras—Balaji and Mangala Gauri—Balaji is a little lower, you have to go down the stairs, but Mangala Gauri is at a height. I don’t visit them nowadays; but the stones are the same, aren’t they? You bring gangajal, you go inside to offer it—but the stones outside are just the same. All you need to do is put your hand to them.
• And where you place your hand, music and the heart become one.
Yes, yes—just put your hand there and what joy you’ll feel. You can’t see it though, I’m afraid, it’s not something to be seen.
• You have such power. If you sing just a few phrases from the Raag Malhar it begins to rain.
My forefathers used to perform at the Balaji temple. Do you know what they were paid? Rs 35 or 40 for a whole month. When my grandmother performed, do you know what the deal was fixed for? 14 annas.
• Khan saheb, you have never differentiated between religions, you believe all are one.
They are one, absolutely one. It’s impossible for there to be division. This voice you hear, it’s that that we call sur.
• I heard you once had an argument with a maulana from Iraq. He said music was blasphemy, and you made him understand that music is also a means to God.
Yes, I set him right.
• Tell us how you did it.
It was nothing. He said music is evil, a trap of the devil, and you mustn’t fall into it. I said to him: Maulana, all I ask is that you be fair. Then I started singing, and when I finished I asked if this was blasphemy.
• You reached out to Allah through music. What did the maulana say then?
He was speechless, he had nothing left to say. I told him not to fall into these errors. I asked him if taking Allah’s name in the raag was wrong—that was all I was saying, though it was in Raag Bhairav.
• So there is no difference between Hindu and Muslim in music—all music goes to one end?
Yes—that same Bhairav I sang—any number of Hindus would agree that it was Raag Bhairav.
• Khan saheb, among your contemporaries, you’re in a league of your own. When you got the Bharat Ratna, no one was in disagreement, everyone said it was long overdue.
Look, this is the tool I use (holds up shehnai)—it is very dear to me.
• You keep it with you always—you sleep with it near you.
Yes I do. This is such a thing that when I lift it, I start thinking from my heart. As I said, the stones are the same, both inside and out. People sprinkle gangajal inside, but they never make an offering outside. I put my hand on the stones outside.
• I heard that Lata Mangeshkar called to congratulate you when you received the Bharat Ratna. What did she say to you?
Lata was overjoyed. She called me and said: Khan saheb, you’ve got the Bharat Ratna. By that time, other people had also told me, so I said: Yes, it’s come to me too.
• Both of you had received it.
Yes, I congratulated her. Lata is very melodious, it must be said.
• Do you like listening to her?
Immensely. She has a magic in her voice that very few have. There was also Begum Akhtar…
• Yes, she used to sing ghazals and thumris.
She sang Deewana Bana De—it was a couplet. Many people have sung it, but when she sang, I would make it a point to go to the studio to hear her. And how she sang. I was asleep once—it must have been an hour or so after midnight. Somewhere, someone was playing one of the Begum’s records.
• Which one?
The same one—Deewana Bana De. There was a strong breeze—I awoke and sat up to hear her sing. I was enjoying myself so much, I woke my wife up—she was very annoyed and she said, What’s all this in the middle of the night? I told her to get lost.
• You said that to her?
Yes, I did. Well, she was my wife after all. The next day, I got to know that what I’d heard at two o’clock in the morning wasn’t a record, but was Begum Akhtar herself.
• And which of Lata’s songs do you like?
Not anything in particular, but it’s her voice. As I said, not everyone has what she has. From the first time I heard her, I wanted to see whether or not she would keep her voice. But it’s still there, intact till today. Other people lose their voice, not Lata.
Whenever she sings, it is always a pleasure.
• There was also that song you composed for Gunj Uthi Shehnai.
That, yes—Dil ka khilona— I composed it. What people have to say about it doesn’t concern me, so long as they liked the melody. You can say anything you choose—if you want to call me names, I’m ready to take them, but only, please, be in tune. I composed and played that song for the world, and the world enjoyed it. But this sort of thing isn’t to my liking.
• Is that why you didn’t do any other work for film?
There’s no way I would.
• Khan Saheb, your contemporaries—Pandit Ravi Shankar, Bhimsen Joshi, Balamurali Krishna from the South—what do you think of these musicians?
They are all very good—there’s no doubt of that. Bhimsen Joshi and I were great friends.
• They’re all your friends. Khan Saheb, all your contemporaries have made so much money—they’ve built huge homes, they have several cars, they live abroad. And here you are: still in your old neighbourhood, living so simply at your old home. Have you ever had regrets?
No, none. Here’s what I say—if anyone wants to meet me, they will have to come here. I will not go anywhere, whether it’s for a raja, a maharaja or anyone else. If I’m not in the mood, I won’t go anywhere for any amount of money. Look, this is my means (touches shehnai to forehead). By the grace of God, when this is in my hands, all the wealth of the world could be brought to me, and I’d say: Get about your business, take it away. So long as this one thing is with me, what need do I have for anything else?
• No one should be grasping, agreed. But don’t you think it would have been better, with your large family, if you had organised your records and performances, built a house, accumulated some wealth?
Yes, I have a family—but it isn’t in my nature, all this nonsense. Is there no joy in music—is it all to be this foolishness? There is beauty in my voice—I could sing, and after a while there would be tears in your eyes.
• Everyone who hears you has tears in their eyes, and while they cry, they laugh as well.
Yes, but that doesn’t happen for money.
• So, you are not bothered with money.
No, not at all.
• But you would say that other musicians have been greedy, that this isn’t right?
Yes, there shouldn’t be that. You don’t know this—I had gone to Pakistan once, and I didn’t feel at all at home there. There was this fence—look at one side and it’s Pakistan, look at the other and it’s Hindustan. I said to hell with it. I would say namaskaar to the Pakistanis and salaam alaikum to the Indians. I was there for about an hour—I couldn’t take the place, but I had a good laugh.
• You didn’t like it there?
No, not in the least. I just crossed the fence to say: I have been to Pakistan.
• But when Partition happened, didn’t you and your family ever think of moving to Pakistan?
God forbid. Me, leave Benaras? Never.
• When India became independent, you performed at the Red Fort. Could you tell us about that?
How can I tell you about it? I can’t express those feelings. I performed at the Red Fort—I went inside, there was a stage set up and it was a thrilling experience. But what exactly happened, who was there, I can’t recall.
• You have seen so much of the world. You were born in 1914, when the First World War was on; you’ve also seen the Second World War, India’s Independence—the whole world has changed. But at this time, what’s happening in the world, violence, terrorism—what do you feel about it all?
Nothing. Tell me, how many people are there in Hindustan?
• More than a hundred crores.
Everyone has a mind, right? Everyone thinks differently. Each one of them can’t be good, there will have to be some who will do bad.
• But, Khan saheb, the world has started talking about ‘Islamic terrorism’, as though terror were intrinsic to Islam. Do you feel bad about that?
No, it’s not like that. Didn’t I just tell you, there’s only God. I can sing to Allah in Raag Bhairav.
• And you say that if you sing, it will start to rain.
Yes, it does.
• Well, it’s started to rain now.
It’s not like that. But a raag is a raag, you can’t change a raag.
• What would you like to tell the world, and specially Muslims, about handling this problem?
I do not want to say anything to Muslims. (claps) These claps are the rhythm, the flow.
• You mean, when you are with the flow, you think of good things, bad thoughts will vanish of their own?
How many people will you reform? How many thousands of people there are.
• Yes, there’ll always be a few bad guys left.
That will always happen. All the maulavis say one shouldn’t drink liquor, but people still do, don’t they? If others do wrong, let them. One should be firm about not doing so oneself.
• Khan saheb, tell me—you’re 91 years old. You’re playing still, and there’s a glow in your face. How have you kept your health all these years—your health and your spirit? To look at you would lift a sad man’s heart.
I’ll tell you, it’s not like that. When my wife passed away, I was very disturbed for a year. Everyone wanted me to remarry, but I listened to my heart. I have children, girls—what would become of them? I decided I wouldn’t marry. This is my companion. (picks up shehnai)
• When your begum left, this was by your side?
Yes, this is all I have.
• So, who are you teaching now; who will take care of the shehnai after you?
My sons will be there.
• When you listen to today’s film music—do you ever listen to A.R. Rehman?
No. I am not in that line. I went into films once or twice. They wanted me to do things their way. I said: Am I here to learn from you? I just packed up and quit. They think they have so much money—they’ll throw a bit here and there, and I will be ready to do whatever they want. They could be playing all their lives, but they will never learn anything. I couldn’t stand it. They thought they would dictate terms—that I should do what they told me. It’s the other way around—I tell them what to do and they follow.
• Khan saheb, you played when the country attained independence, and you played at our 50th Independence Day.
My elder brother and I had ordered new clothes made of thick khadi specially for the occasion. There must be a recording of that somewhere, the country’s independence celebrations. I don’t know who would have it.
• What is your message now for the country?
I would say only this: all is still not lost. If you dedicate yourself to what you learn, if you practise it sincerely, you will lose all fear of what may befall you.
• You can forget all your troubles in music?
Things will happen around you, and you will stop minding them. It happens to me. I was waiting for you before the interview. That’s alright. But I will not play for any and everyone. It takes two hours for me to tune this, and then it plays the way I want it to. It won’t be that I’ll wish it to do one thing and it will do something else. No. I will tell it what to do and it will do just what I say.
• Your message to the world is that people should think about peace, rhythm and harmony, and they will be freed of their troubles.
Look, Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Christian—whoever they are, they’re all one. Once people realise that and come into harmony with each other, there will be no more division.
Bismillah Khan’s Jaunpuri from the SAWF Music Articles Archive.
Self-Portrait. 1865-1866. Oil on canvas. Art Institute of Chicago, Chicago, IL, USA.
Study of Flowers. 1866. Oil on canvas. Private collection.
The Artist's Studio, Rue de la Condamine. 1870. Oil on canvas. Musée d'Orsay, Paris, France.
The Fisherman with a Net. 1868. Oil on canvas. Foundation Rau pour le Tiers-Monde, Zurich.