Cocosse | Journal

J[A-Z]Z / p1ck ( Freund - Mangelsdorff - Sextett | Freund - Mangelsdorff - Sextett, 1957

2022-12-09T19:32:00.000+02:00

Freund - Mangelsdorff - Sextett, 1957

Joki Freund, Albert Mangelsdorff Sextett / Domicile, 1957

Written by Joki Freund

Recorded on June 8th, 1957 at the 5th German Jazz Festival,

Frankfurt am Main, Kongresshalle, Germany

Emil Mangelsdorff - Alto Saxophone

Marcel Rigot - Bass

Rudi Sehring - Drums

Pepsi Auer - Piano

Joki Freund - Tenor Saxophone

Albert Mangelsdorff - Trombone

Letter to Tatyana Yakovleva | Vladimir Mayakovsky, 1928

2022-12-07T22:53:00.001+02:00

Tatyana Yakovleva, 1906-1991

In the kiss of hands

lips,

in body tremors

close to me

red

Colour

my republics

too

should

blaze.

I dont like

Parisian love:

any female

decorate with silk

stretching, dozing,

saying -

tubo -

dogs

ferocious passion.

You are the only one for me

straight growth,

get close

with an eyebrow,

give

about this

important evening

tell

more human.

Five hours,

and from now on

verse

of people

dense forest,

extinct

populated city,

I hear only

whistle dispute

trains to Barcelona.

In the black sky

lightning step,

thunder

ugly

in heavenly drama -

not a thunderstorm

and this

simply

jealousy moves mountains.

stupid words

don't trust raw materials

don't get confused

this shaking,

I bridle

I will humble

feelings

offspring of the nobility.

passion measles

come down with a scab,

but joy

inexhaustible

I'll be long

I'll just

I speak in verse.

Jealousy,

wives,

tears...

well them! -

swollen eyelids,

fit Viu.

I'm not myself

and I

jealous

for Soviet Russia.

Saw

on the shoulders of the patch,

them

consumption

licks with a sigh.

What,

we are not to blame

hundred million

was bad.

now

so tender -

sports

straighten not many, -

you and us

needed in Moscow

lacks

leggy.

Not for you,

in the snow

and in typhoid

walking

with these legs

here

for caresses

give them away

in dinners

with the oilmen.

Don't you think

just squinting

from under straightened arcs.

Go here,

go to the crossroads

my big

and clumsy hands.

Do not want?

Stay and winter

and this

insult

we will lower it to the general account.

I don't care

you

someday I'll take

one

or together with Paris.

Vladimir Mayakovsky, c 1928

Tatyana Yakovleva, 1906-1991 Vladimir Mayakovsky, 1893-1930

Mayakovsky met with Tatyana Yakovleva in 1928 at the house of Lily Brik's sister Elsa Triolet.

The poet fell in love at first sight. He spent a little more than a month in Paris, devoting all his

free time to long walks around the city together with Tatiana. Tall and handsome, they were a

handsome couple. " You alone are my height", - he wrote in a poem addressed to her. But

Mayakovsky had to return to the USSR, he long persuaded her to go with him, but she refused.

Before leaving, Mayakovsky left a large sum in one of the Parisian greenhouses with a request

to send bouquets every Sunday to Yakovleva's address with his business card. The firm was

respectable and carried out an assignment on a weekly basis: even after the death of the poet,

Tatyana continued to receive flowers from him.

Although Yakovleva refused to leave after Mayakovsky, she claimed that she was in love with

him. In a letter to her mother, she confessed: “He is so colossal both physically and mentally

that after him there is literally a desert. This is the first person who managed to leave a mark

on my soul.". The lovers wrote letters to each other, in which they did not tire of confessing

their love to each other. The poet wrote: “ You can't retell and rewrite all the sadness that

makes me more silent". Unfortunately, Tatyana Yakovleva's letters have not survived - Lilya

Brik, who gained access to the poet's archive after his death, obviously destroyed all evidence

of his love for another woman - she herself should have remained the only muse. Shortly

before her death, Tatyana Yakovleva said: “ I am grateful to her for that. Otherwise, I would

have returned to the USSR for Mayakovsky, I loved him so much. And would inevitably

perish in the meat grinder of 1937».

In October 1929, Lilya Brik, not without gloating, told the poet the news that his new muse

was about to marry Viscount Bertrand du Plessis, although there was no talk of a wedding at

that time. Later, Tatyana nevertheless became his wife, and this marriage became, in her words,

"an escape from Volodya." She understood that she would no longer see him - Mayakovsky was

no longer allowed to go abroad (according to rumors, Lilya Brik took care of this). The poet's

friend Natalya Bryukhanenko recalled: “ In January 1929, Mayakovsky said that he was in love

and would shoot himself if he could not see this woman soon.". And in April 1930 he pulled the

trigger. What circumstances prompted him to take this step, and whether it was suicide -

biographers argue to this day.

Natalia Turovskaya

Also:

Summer 1923: Vladimir Mayakovsky / Lilya Brik / Viktor Shklovsky on the beach

Alphabetarion # Modesty | Margaret Atwood, 1985

2022-12-06T14:12:00.002+02:00

Robert Mapplethorpe, Calla Lily, 1988

“Modesty is invisibility. Never forget it.

To be seen—to be seen—is to be penetrated.”

Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid's Tale, 1985

Also:

A Sad Child | Margaret Atwood, 1995

Stereosc2pe + | Hands (III) | Georgia O'Keeffe / Maya Deren, 1943-1968

2022-12-04T21:23:00.001+02:00

John Loengard, The Hand of Georgia O'Keeffe holding one of her favorite Stones, 1968

Maya Deren and Marcel Duchamp, The Witch’s Cradle, 1943

Also:

The Μeaning of Hands | Robert Bresson, 1943-1983

Stereosc2pe + | Hands (II) / Marcel Proust / Berenice Abbott / Shiihara Osamu

The Hands of Antonin Artaud | Man Ray (1922)

True Poetry is Antibiographical | Paul Celan, 1920-70

2022-12-03T23:05:00.002+02:00

Paul Celan, 1920-70 Paul Celan, Microliths, 2020

"True poetry is antibiographical. The poet’s homeland is his poem and changes from one
poem to the next. The distances are the old, eternal ones: infinite like the cosmos, in which
each poem attempts to assert itself as a — minuscule — star. Infinite also like the distance
between one’s I and one’s You: from both sides, from both poles the bridge is built: in the
middle, halfway, where the carrier pylon is expected, from above or from below, there is the
place of the poem. From above: invisible and uncertain. From below: from the abyss of
hope for the distant, the future-distant kin."

Paul Celan, from “Microliths”
trans Pierre Joris

Also:

Poems are en route | Paul Celan, 1958

Speak, You Too | Paul Celan, 1920-70

Landscapes | Etchings by Gisèle Celan-Lestrange, 1927-1991

Winder days | Photos by Pentti Sammallahti, 1978-2016

2022-12-01T20:27:00.001+02:00

Pentti Sammallahti, Sulhanen, Lapinlahti, 1981

Pentti Sammallahti, Unionnikatu, Kluuvi, Helsinki, 1978

Pentti Sammallahti, Kymintie, Kumpula, 1987

Pentti Sammallahti, Iso Puistotie, Kaivopuisto, 1997

Pentti Sammallahti, Tamminiementie, Meilahti, 1996

Pentti Sammallahti, Dog on Road Finström, Arland Island, Finland 1978

Pentti Sammallahti, Helsinki, Finland, 2016 Pentti Sammallahti, Finström, Åland, Finland, 1981

Pentti Sammallahti, Gotland, Sweden, 1997

Pentti Sammallahti, Jurmo, Finland 1973

Also:

Shadows | Charles Dickens, 1844

Alphabetarion # Commerce | Matt Haig, 2015

2022-11-29T13:04:00.004+02:00

Ellsworth Kelly, Colors on a Grid (Axsom 140), 1976

“The World Is increasingly designed to depress us. Happiness isn’t very good for the economy.

If we were happy with what we had, why would we need more? How do you sell an anti-ageing

moisturiser? You make someone worry about ageing. How do you get people to vote for a political

party? You make them worry about immigration. How do you get them to buy insurance? By making

them worry about everything. How do you get them to have plastic surgery? By highlighting their

physical flaws. How do you get them to watch a TV show? By making them worry about missing

out. How do you get them to buy a new smartphone? By making them feel like they are being left

behind. To be calm becomes a kind of revolutionary act. To be happy with your own non-upgraded

existence. To be comfortable with our messy, human selves, would not be good for business.”

Matt Haig, Reasons to Stay Alive, 2015

Frame Inside | The Red Knight / Man Ray, 1938-1952

2022-11-28T13:07:00.001+02:00

Man Ray, Paris, 1952

Man Ray, Le Chevalier Rouge (The Red Knight), 1938

Painted in Antibes

Also:

Juliet Browner & Man Ray, 1945

Chess: Marcel Duchamp / Larry Evans / Hans Richter (1956-1960)

Stereosc2pe + | Chess | Salvador Dali / Marcel Duchamp , 1941-1963

Silence | Lucian Blaga, 1919

2022-11-26T18:53:00.002+02:00

Radu Belcin, Alter Ego I, 2015

Such a deep silence surrounds me, that I think I hear

moonbeams striking on the windows.

In my chest,

a strange voice is awakens

and a song plays inside me

a longing that is not mine.

They say that ancestors, dead before their time,

with young blood still in their veins,

with great passion in their blood,

with the sun still burning in their blood

come,

come to continue to live

within us

their unfinished lives.

Such a deep silence surrounds me, that I think I hear

moonbeams striking on the windows.

O, who knows, soul of mine, in which chest you will sing

you also, after centuries,

in soft ropes of silence,

on harps of obscurity – the drowned longing

and the pleasure of living torn? Who knows?

Who knows?

Lucian Blaga, Silence, 1919

Lucian Blaga (1895 – 1961) was a Romanian philosopher, poet, playwright,

poetry translator and novelist.

Also:

Alphabetarion # Dimensions | Etel Adnan, 2020

Window shopping | Paintings by August Macke, 1910s

2022-11-25T20:12:00.000+02:00

August Macke, Fashion store, 1914

August Macke, The Hat Shop, 1913 August Macke, Two women in front of a hat shop, 1914

August Macke, Bright woman in front of a hat store, 1913 August Macke, Woman in front of a large illuminated window, 1910s

August Macke, Hat shop, 1914 August Macke, Fashion Window, 1910s

Also:

Hats | Designed by Elsa Schiaparelli, 1930s-1950s

Alphabetarion # Hats | Herbert List / Paul Strand / Saul Leiter / Gordon Parks /

Martin Munkacsi / Fernand Fonssagrives / Kansuke Yamamoto (1919 - 1957)

J[A-Z]Z / p1ck ( Waltz for Debby | Monica Zetterlund / Bill Evans, 1964

2022-11-24T21:38:00.003+02:00

Monica Zetterlund / Bill Evans - Some Other Time (1964)

1992 reissue cover

Monica Zetterlund / Bill Evans - Some Other Time (1964)

(Leonard Bernstein, Betty Comden, Adolph Green)

Recorded on August 29, 1964 in Stockholm, Sweden

Bill Evans – piano

Monica Zetterlund – vocals

Larry Bunker – drums

Chuck Israels – bass

Monica Zetterlund / Bill Evans

Photo: Kjell Elgstam

Also:

J[A-Z]Z p1ck ( Kind of Blue | Miles Davis, 1959

J[A-Z]Z / p1ck ( Chet | Chet Baker, 1959

J[A-Z]Z / p1ck ( The Trio | Hank Jones, Wendell Marshall And Kenny Clarke (1955)

Alphabetarion # Health | Robert Bly, 1926-2021

2022-11-21T14:05:00.003+02:00

Kenneth Noland, Flutter, 1960

“I know men who are healthier at fifty than they've ever

been before, because a lot of their fear is gone.”

Robert Bly, 1926-2021

Book//mark - The First Men in the Moon | H.G. Wells, 1901

2022-11-18T17:52:00.000+02:00

The First Men in the Moon, 1901 H.G. Wells, 1901

“What is this spirit in man that urges him forever to depart from happiness and security, to toil, to place

himself in danger, even to risk a reasonable certainty of death? It dawned upon me up there in the

moon as a thing I ought always to have known, that man is not made simply to go about being safe

and comfortable and well fed and amused. Against his interest, against his happiness he is constantly

being driven to do unreasonable things. Some force not himself impels him and go he must.”

“One can't always be magnificent, but simplicity is always a possible alternative.”

“He showed it to me with all the confiding zest of a man who has been living too much

alone. This seclusion was overflowing now in an excess of confidence, and I had the good

luck to be the recipient.”

“So utterly at variance is Destiny with all the little plans of men.”

“Over me, about me, closing in on me, embracing me ever nearer, was the Eternal, that which was

before the beginning and that which triumphs over the end; that enormous void in which all light

and life and being is but the thin and vanishing splendour of a falling star, the cold, the stillness,

the silence, - the infinite and final Night of space.”

“I perceived with a sudden novel vividness the extraordinary folly of everything I had ever done.”

“It is really in the end a far more humane proceeding than our earthly method of

leaving children to grow into human beings, and then making machines of them.”

“The sense of my utter loneliness had been agony.”

“Sooner or later it must come out, even if other men rediscover it. And then...Governments and

powers will struggle to get hither, they will fight against one another and against these moon

people. It will only spread warfare and multiply the occasions of war. In a little while, in a very

little while if I tell my secret, this planet to it's deepest galleries will be strewn with human

dead. Other things are doubtful, but this is certain...It is not as though man had any use for the

moon. What good would the moon be to men? Even of their own planet what have they made

but a battleground and theatre of infinite folly? Small as his world is, and short as his time, he

has still in his little life down there far more than he can do. No! Science has toiled too long

forging weapons for fools to use. It is time she held her hand. Let him find it out for himself

again-in a thousand years' time.”

It's [the moon] dead - dead! Vast extinct volcanoes, lava wildernesses, tumbled wastes

of snow, or frozen carbonic acid, or frozen air, and everywhere landslip seams and cracks

and gulfs. Nothing happens. Men have watched this planet systematically with telescopes

for over two hundred years. How much change do you think they have seen? None.

"Those who have only seen the starry sky from the earth cannot imagine its appearance

when the vague half-luminous veil of our air has been withdrawn. The stars we see on

earth are the mere scattered survivors that penetrate our misty atmosphere."

H.G. Wells, The First Men in the Moon, 1901

Also:

The Book & the Movie: The Island of Dr. Moreau / H.G. Wells (1896) |

Island of Lost Souls / Erle C. Kenton (1932)

Flick Review < The Invisible Thief | Segundo de Chomón,

Ferdinand Zecca (1909) / H.G. Wells (1897)

The Book and the Movie: The Invisible Man /

H. G. Wells (1897) | James Whale (1933)

Art Nouveau Combs by René Lalique, 1890s-1900s

2022-11-16T11:26:00.002+02:00

Rene Lalique, 1897-1898 Rene Lalique, Orange Sun Landscape, 1895

René Lalique, Deux Fleurs hair comb, 1900

René Lalique, Jewellery comb "Bathing Naiads", 1900 * René Lalique, Lalique horn, 1898

René Lalique, Daffodil comb, carved horn and amethyst, 1900

Rene Lalique, Sea Holly, 1900 Rene Lalique, A tiara comb carved in horn, 1890

Rene Lalique, Trois Perles Suspendues, 1904

Rene Lalique, Le peigne aux abeilles, 1900 Rene Lalique, Design of two raptors, 1900

Rene Lalique, Tortoiseshell enameled bats, 1900

Rene Lalique, Lily of the Valley comb, 1900 Rene Lalique, Masque With Pairs of Dancing Nymphs And Serpents, 1900

Rene Lalique, Scrolls And Wheat, 1900

Two entwined snakes each biting the same ball shaped object, 1900 Winged Women Comb, 1900

Also:

Art Nouveau chairs | Josef Hoffmann / Hector Guimard / Eugene Gaiiilard / Abel Landry, 1898-1905

Art Nouveau book covers | Margaret Neilson Armstrong (1896 -1919)

Stereosc2pe + | Man with Pipe | Paul Cézanne, 1891-1896

2022-11-13T23:38:00.001+02:00

Paul Cézanne, Man with Pipe, 1892-1896 Paul Cézanne, Man Smoking a Pipe, 1891

Stereosc2pe >

Alphabetarion # Βetween | Henri Michaux, 1899-1984

2022-11-12T18:57:00.002+02:00

Henri Michaux, L’Infini turbulent, 1958

"I must never forget: I was suffocated.

I was crushed between words."

Henri Michaux, 1899-1984

Also:

A Chinese newsboy | Henri Michaux, 1949

Clown | Henri Michaux, 1939

Cats | Woodblock Prints by Tomoo Inagaki, 1941-1982

2022-11-11T20:55:00.002+02:00

Tomoo Inagaki, Five Cats, 1960

Tomoo Inagaki, Cats in Love, 1957 Tomoo Inagaki, Cat Faces, 1966

Tomoo Inagaki, Cat in Bush, 1978

Tomoo Inagaki, Black Cat, 1940-1950 Tomoo Inagaki, Two Cats Wearing Necklaces

Tomoo Inagaki, Cat and Camellia, 1941

Tomoo Inagaki, A Fanciful Cat, 1982 Tomoo Inagaki, Quarrelling Cats, 1960

Tomoo Inagaki, Cat Walking, 1960

Tomoo Inagaki, Cats by Fireplace (3), 1982 Tomoo Inagaki, Cats Making Up, 1955

Tomoo Inagaki, Cats in Blue, 1960 Tomoo Inagaki, Cat in the Moonlight, 1960

Inagaki Tomoo (稲垣知雄) was born in Tokyo and graduated from the Okura Commercial

High School. He was introduced to printmaking by Kôshirô Onchi and Un'ichi Hiratsuka in

1923, when the older artists were producing the magazine Shi to hanga ("Poetry and

Prints": 詩と版画). He acknowledged a great debt to the two masters, attending Shi to

hanga meetings regularly and thereby taking his only tutelage in printmaking. He said

that "Poetry and Prints convinced me that I wanted to be a print artist."

Also:

Cats | Paintings and Drawings by Elizabeth Blackadder

The Cat | Johan van der Keuken (1968)

Facts On the Ground | Sasha Bezzubov & Jessica Sucher, 1997-2015

2022-11-10T14:05:00.004+02:00

Facts On the Ground

The olive trees from Facts on the Ground, a series of photographs made in the

misleading landscape of Israel/Palestine. The photographs describe the enduring ways

the violent history and present policies of the Israeli Occupation have transformed the land.

J[A-Z]Z / p1ck ( Gal Costa | Gal Costa, 1969

2022-11-09T22:14:00.001+02:00

Gal Costa - Gal Costa, 1969 / Photo: Cynira Arruda

Gal Costa, Lost In The Paradise

Written by Caetano Veloso

Jards Anet da Silva - Acoustic Guitar

Rodolpho Grani Júnior - Bass

Diogenes Burani Filho, Eduardo Portes de Souza - Drums

Alexander Gordin - Electric Guitar, Bass Guitar

Artwork: Hugo Pratt

Alphabetarion # Fool | Leonid Andreyev, 1919

2022-11-08T11:28:00.002+02:00

Foldout head. The anatomy of the human head and neck, 1895

“And what kind of a liar is he who can fool only others?

To lie to oneself and believe it—that is an art!”

Leonid Andreyev, Satan's Diary, 1919

Also:

Family & Nature / Photographs by a Russian Writer | Leonid Andreyev, 1903-14

Book//mark - Η τρέλα | Leonid Andreyev (1902)

Flick Review < Portrait of Jennie | William Dieterle, 1948

2022-11-07T20:26:00.001+02:00

The portrait of Jennie supposedly painted by Joseph Cotten's character, Eben Adams, was in reality

created by noted portrait artist Robert Brackman. Jennifer Jones came in for more than a dozen

sittings in Brackman's Connecticut studio. Actually, Robert Brackman was obliged to paint, not

only one, but two versions as the first one, described as "lush" and "opulent" by the artist, was

scrapped after script changes necessitated a completely new and more simple one.

A black-and-white photo of the first version can be seen in one of the books on

Brackman. The painting was a prized possession of producer Selznick and

hung in his home from 1946 until his death.

Portrait of Jennie (1948)

Director: William Dieterle

Writers: Robert Nathan (book), Paul Osborn, Peter Berneis (screen play)

Cinematography:Joseph H. August

Stars: Jennifer Jones, Joseph Cotten, Ethel Barrymore, Lillian Gish

William Dieterle, Portrait of Jennie, 1948

The quotation from Euripides during the opening narration -

"Who knoweth if to die be but to live ... and that called life by mortals be but death ?"

(also translated elsewhere as "Who knows but life be that which men call death

and death what men call life?") - is from fragment 830 of Phrixus, a lost play.

Aristophanes also used a similar statement in "The Frogs": "Who knows if death be life,

and life be death, And breath be mutton broth, and sleep a sheepskin?"

...

"Where I come from, nobody knows

And where I am going, everything goes

The wind blows, the sea flows

Nobody knows

And where I am going

Nobody knows."

Poem by Robert Nathan, Portrait of Jennie, 1940

The Damned - The Portrait, 1986

The extended version of "The Portrait" contained a sample of the Bernard

Herrmann-penned untitled theme song from the film Portrait of Jennie (1948)

My New Blue Coat | Tracey Emin, 2005

2022-11-06T13:15:00.001+02:00

Tracey Emin, Growing Pains, 1995

“He pulled my skirt up. I began to worry. Everyone knew he had broken in girls before and

I didn't want it to happen to me. I said, 'No. Get off, please.' He pulled me down the alley

and pushed me to the ground. As I lay on my back worrying about my new blue coat, he

pushed his fingers up between my legs — and rammed himself into me.

I was crying. His lips were pressed against mine but I was motionless, like a small corpse.

He grunted and I knew it was over. He got up, I just lay there on the ground, my tights

round my ankles. The clock was striking twelve.

As he walked away, he turned and said, 'I've always wanted to do it to you. I like your mouth'.

When I got in, my mum said, 'Tracey, what's wrong with you?' I showed her my coat, the

dirt and the stains, and told her 'I'm not a virgin any more.'

She didn't call the police or make any fuss. She just washed my coat and everything carried

on as normal, as though nothing had happened.

But for me, my childhood was over, I had become conscious of my physicality, aware of my

presence and open to the ugly truths of the world. At the age of thirteen, I realised that there

was a danger in innocence and beauty, and I could not live with both.”

Tracey Emin, Strangeland, 2005

As One Listens To The Rain | Octavio Paz, 1988

2022-11-03T18:22:00.003+02:00

Utagawa Hiroshige, Display Sudden Shower over Shin-Ohashi Bridge and Atake, 1957

Listen to me as one listens to the rain,

not attentive, not distracted,

light footsteps, thin drizzle,

water that is air, air that is time,

the day is still leaving,

the night has yet to arrive,

figurations of mist

at the turn of the corner,

figurations of time

at the bend in this pause,

listen to me as one listens to the rain,

without listening, hear what I say

with eyes open inward, asleep

with all five senses awake,

it's raining, light footsteps, a murmur of syllables,

air and water, words with no weight:

what we are and are,

the days and years, this moment,

weightless time and heavy sorrow,

listen to me as one listens to the rain,

wet asphalt is shining,

steam rises and walks away,

night unfolds and looks at me,

you are you and your body of steam,

you and your face of night,

you and your hair, unhurried lightning,

you cross the street and enter my forehead,

footsteps of water across my eyes,

listen to me as one listens to the rain

the asphalt’s shining, you cross the street,

it is the mist, wandering in the night,

it is the night, asleep in your bed,

it is the surge of waves in your breath,

your fingers of water dampen my forehead,

your fingers of flame burn my eyes,

your fingers of air open eyelids of time,

a spring of visions and resurrections,

listen to me as one listens to the rain,

the years go by, the moments return,

do you hear the footsteps in the next room?

not here, not there: you hear them

in another time that is now,

listen to the footsteps of time,

inventor of places with no weight, nowhere,

listen to the rain running over the terrace,

the night is now more night in the grove,

lightning has nestled among the leaves,

a restless garden adrift-go in,

your shadow covers this page.

Octavio Paz, As One Listens To The Rain

"A Tree Within" (1988)

Also:

Ash tree | Octavio Paz, 1914 -1998

Between Going and Staying | Octavio Paz, 1914 – 1998

Alphabetarion # Revolt | Howard Zinn, 1999

2022-11-02T12:56:00.000+02:00

Damien Hirst, 4101 Like Dreams, from The Currency, 2016

“But I suppose the most revolutionary act

one can engage in is to tell the truth.”

Howard Zinn, Marx in Soho: A Play on History, 1999

Songbook | Me and My Shadow | Nat Shilkret, 1927

2022-11-01T19:57:00.003+02:00

written by Al Jolson, Billy Rose and Dave Dreyer

Nat Shilkret & The Victor Orchestra - Me and My Shadow, 1927

vocals Johnny Marvin

Whispering Jack Smith - Me And My Shadow 1927