My studio has a corner where infrequently used, but
still dear to my memories, items are kept. Among these is an old Panasonic
portable radio/cassette player, a 9 inch screen car plug-in TV with a built-in DVD
player, and letters from old friends who have passed.
Next to that area are the wall shelves where I keep
most of my vintage mechanical cameras that I still use for my B&W
photography. So, I call that corner of my studio “the place where time has
taken a respite.”
Last night I decided to do some spring cleaning to
free up space in “the place.” Instead, I took out the Panasonic radio and
inserted a cassette tape from the 1970s that was labeled “Aznavour.”
… Charles Aznavour was a famous French singer, and
his songs were poetry delivered with the thoughtfulness of a person who had
lived his songs. He was one of three such singers who sang in French and touched
my teenage years – Jacques Brel, Charles Aznavour and Georges Brassens.
On that moment, I did not need technology – just the
sound waves to take me back decades.
One of the songs is “Il faut savoir” (one must know) and its lyrics meant little to me
when I was a budding young man. But yesterday, the message of the song seemed
to touch on many of the life experiences I have had since. Here are the famous
lines where Aznavour gives a life lesson he had learned the hard way:
“
Il faut savoir quitter la table, lorsque l'amour est desservi" (One must know how to leave
the table, when love is no longer served).
"Sans
s'accrocher, l'air pitoyable, mais partir sans faire de bruit" (Without holding on, looking
pitiful, but leaving without making noise).
I listened to the song twice, hanging on to the
words of those two lines. And I realized that the imagery of being on the table
where love is served (or no longer served) had stayed in my view of life
experiences through my photography and past writings. Indeed, one of my books’
cover (circa 2000) showed a woman sitting alone at a table next to mine in a
dimly lit Fado restaurant, in Lisboa. I had a Nikon F2 with me, rested it on my
table, set the shutter speed to 1/15th seconds and zone focused. It
remains one of my favorite shots. The title of my book is “Table for One”….
Over time, Aznavour’s lesson has also applied to
instances when dignity, empathy and kindness were no longer served. When the
table served no food for the soul. When holding on was ignorance.
The photo atop the page includes a woman, seemingly
thoughtful, perhaps disappointed, at the lonesome table listening to Portuguese
Fado which always is melancholic and full of longing. But was I reflecting on
my own feelings? Perhaps she just came alone to the Fado restaurant. But why
were there two wine glasses, yet empty, on the table?
Here is another photo that I took in Bellagio, Italy
that follows Aznavour’s philosophy:
In the country of love and romanticism, an empty street
and lonesome trattoria tables seem out of place.
Finally, below a poem I had published in 2022 (https://vahezen.blogspot.com/2022/02/i-did-wait.html)
that perhaps shows how the lyrics of a 1961 song can stay in us and resurface:
April 10, 2026
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2026
I Did Wait
Then
I held
each worry bead
for the space
of a name
Now
a bottle of Cava
and a window
without
a frame
Often
I let
one bead slide
as I held
the next one
a while
longer
next to
a round table
where the space
of a name
was lovingly
left
lonely
February 19, 2022
©Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2022
