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He can’t sing, but he’s on Netflix and he’s been in the ballpark for 43 years – Pierce Brosnan’s best

He can’t sing, but he’s on Netflix and he’s been in the ballpark for 43 years – Pierce Brosnan’s best

A woman in a sundress, with a dreamy face – for the birthday of Anna Addamis

The rigor of beauty is his creative credo. His work ranges from Locomotiv GT to Iván Darvas, from Kati Kovács to Örs Szörényi, and from Képzelt Report to Atlanta, Georgia.




She was often identified as “the girl with the pearly hair”, as there was always something mysterious and ethereal behind her visible being. This is also realized by the happy few he once allowed to approach him. Perhaps this is precisely why I combined the sun-clothed woman from the Apocalypse with the dreamy-faced girl from the song 30 years after I first met her.

The harmonious breathing of poetry, the free heartbeat of music: this is Anna Adamis. The beautiful, tender but stern thought that awakens with it the dawn and embraces that intangible we call the overlap of day and night. Anna exists between these two in her pure, mysterious being, uniting them in herself.

Because creation, poetry, word and existence for Anna Adamis. And just as all time, space, reality, desire, past, present, and future in a person’s life have meaning, so for Anna there are no superfluous words, exaggerations, or idle chatter. Even in an interview, he does not tolerate clumsy sentences. He considers spoken words to be works of art if they take a visual and legible form. And in him passion and moderation entered eternal peace.

Anna Adamis has been living there in the conscious subconscious for generations. There are those who watch the birds to know from them “what the water of life tastes like,” and then realize that despite their inability to bear it, what they are in is not as easy to get out of as it is to get. from bad shoes. There are those who can’t wait for the tram to “take you to the day after tomorrow”. How many of us have addressed his love in this way: “You are to me like snow in winter / You are to me like words to silence.” And those who become inseparable experience it a thousand times: “I can think of anything/You say it first…” He gave us parables of the prodigal son and the pure-hearted gunsmith’s son, and we were able to think about it. Who are the horrible people, and where do those 10,000 steps lead, and that’s why “only a fool lives while he speaks.”

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This is all a modern Hungarian spell. Meanwhile, the poet takes different forms and destinies, but always remains intact. Yes, an idyll for me from the moment I wrote “I knew a girl for Omega”. From Locomotiv GT to Iván Darvas, from Kati Kovács to Örs Szörényi, from Képzelt Report to Atlanta, Georgia, with all its transformations. He is one of those who invalidate the rejection of the “Parnassian” poets, who say that “light music is not poetry.” Nowadays, no poetry has a greater influence than lyrical songs, just as it was so long ago that millions fell in love with poetry written through the songs of Bob Dylan, Paul Simon, Leonard Cohen, or even Anna Addis.

Anna leads us from the yard of jango and vinegar to America’s “deep South,” untangling the “wrinkle words” that live within us. We often think it would be nice if someone could “return the needle” to the record of our lives, so that we could play something again, or say it differently, or forgive.

Is it possible to express the bond between two people with the noblest simplicity of “My mother knows my father’s steps/ My father loved my mother’s years/ My father was a cloud in a clear sky/ My mother is a rain drop on a wet meadow” / That’s how I became.

Anna Adamis is among us, tangible, but far from the filth of everyday life, from the Screaming Faces bar, where they hammer a fake song into our brains, and from the exact people who live among us at all times, and who we don’t even know where they will be between two minutes, even one day. What, perhaps, will be destroyed endlessly in the foreseeable future. And with it we shout to the world angrily: “How much is life?”

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Just as he does not raise his velvety warm voice in life, he does not need noise as a poet. It has long been known that it is not the showy colors, or the terrible decibels, but the honest, original, layered thoughts that we pay attention to even after generations. We hear his whispers and laughter “even over the noise of the loudspeakers”.

When I was in his adopted home for the first time, for several days I felt: I was dreaming, there was no way I could enter his fearfully guarded aura. Over the years, a special relationship of trust has developed between us. Each meeting with him was a creative process. When I first interviewed him, it still bothered me that he paraphrased almost every sentence I wrote. Then I realized that talking to him is just raw material, which he molds to the end in the same way as a painter or sculptor before presenting the work to the public.

“I’m always trying to find the essence. Stripped down to join to the roots. I weave ideas through myself,” he said in a 1996 interview.

When he worked for four years on the libretto for an opera by Gyorgy Vucan, Atlanta, Georgia, he said of himself: “It’s a thought-provoking thing: the original accumulation of capital in conditions of the speed of light, in the midst of open or covert struggle.” for power, so that someone may indulge in the refinement of the harmony of rhymes and quatrains.” But he also admitted that he does not like established relationships, nor tolerate them long nor since, but rather repelled by interest associations. However, he was disappointed. Great hope because, contrary to his expectations, after the regime change, no independent state patronage supporting true cultural values ​​appeared in Hungary.

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Anna still retains her wonderful freedom. When asked who he wanted to be the most, he replied: “The iceberg that avoided the Titanic.”

It’s been a long time since we’ve met Anna in person, but we know each other all the time, and we both enjoy the few words we have on the phone. I hope it will be like this as long as we live.

Who is the poet Anna Adamis really? Instead of clumsy stuttering, let your lines stand here at the end:

When you came into my life,

You look like a reflection in my eyes

As you come towards me with the sun

It also makes me come to terms with myself

You are beautiful,

You are beautiful”.


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