Leonard Has Passed Away
Re: Leonard Has Passed Away
Joe I feel exactly the same... I was so touched by the Cantor's article. Tears were pouring down my face when I read it for many reasons.
Thank you for posting this Marie.
Leslie PY
Thank you for posting this Marie.
Leslie PY
1988 Vancouver
2009 Victoria/Seattle/Almost Red Rocks/Las Vegas/San Jose.
2010 Sligo x 2/Victoria/Vancouver/Portland/Las Vegas x 2.
2012 Austin x 2/Seattle/Vancouver/Montreal x 2.
2013 Oakland x 2/New York City x 2/Winnipeg...
2009 Victoria/Seattle/Almost Red Rocks/Las Vegas/San Jose.
2010 Sligo x 2/Victoria/Vancouver/Portland/Las Vegas x 2.
2012 Austin x 2/Seattle/Vancouver/Montreal x 2.
2013 Oakland x 2/New York City x 2/Winnipeg...
Re: Leonard Has Passed Away
Actually not, as all photos taken at the LA album launch event were taken one month later.loki17ie wrote:https://www.instagram.com/p/BM4Zlwwg2r6/?hl=en
Last photo of Leonard?
Leonard Cohen Newswire / bookoflonging.com (retired) / leonardcohencroatia.com (retired)
Re: Leonard Has Passed Away
Yesterday we saw Glen Hansard in Borgerhout (Belgium) and also on stage, Javier Mas. His only answer to the terrible blow of Leonard's death is playing music. Together they brought four magical Cohen songs and we all could feel the burden of loss somewhat mitigated by this stunning homage. On Wednesday Bear's Den played So long Marianne and on Monday Rufus Wainwright sang Hallelujah. And that is all we can to to ease our pain. As Chris McCandless knew: love is only real when shared.
Re: Leonard Has Passed Away
Dear friends, I found on the German website "Die Achse des Guten" this little touching text by Herb Samuels under the headline "Summer holidays with Leonard Cohen":
Here is the text:
I remember him as Lenny. We were campers together for a number of years at Wabi-Kon, near Temagami. Lenny was the undisputed leader of the cabin. It was not due to his forcing his way into the role. It was rather by the warmth and magnetism of his personality that made you want to follow him.
Not athletically inclined, he was physically quite strong. A lot of that strength came from force of will. At a relatively young age, he would swim the length of the pool [25 yards] underwater. Someone read that you could not hold your arms straight out perpendicular to your body more than a certain length of time. He took that as a challenge and proceeded to do it.
One summer, we became superheroes with towels tied around our neck as capes. Lenny’s idea was instead of saying „shazam“, like Captain Marvel, we say our names backwards. By his saying „Dranoel Nehoc“ or in my case Trebreh Sleumas“, we were transformed.
I remember he taught me how to comb my hair to achieve the same pompadour he had. Somehow, it didn’t attract the girls to me like the way they gravitated to Lenny.
He was a storyteller. One night, after lights were out, he spun a tale for what seemed like a half hour. He related how he was waiting for a bus during a heavy Montréal snowstorm. He described the scene, the street name, and bus number in full detail. A passing motorist offered him a ride home. But first had to stop at the driver’s first-floor apartment to pick something up. He invited Lenny to come with him out of the cold. His host momentarily left the room and returned holding a knife. He came at Lenny who evaded him, momentarily, and tried to partially out the man „grabbed me by the leg. He started pulling my leg, pulling my leg, just like I’m pulling yours.“
Years later, I flew to New York with my brother and sister-in-law. While waiting for a cab, my sister-in-law said „Isn’t that Leonard Cohen, standing over there alone? Why don’t you say hello.“ Shyly, I went over and the four of us shared a pleasant relaxed taxi into Manhattan. On the way, Lenny said offhandedly that he often thought of me. Nonplussed, I asked why. He said one of his favorite past times, particularly when in a new place, was to go into a variety store, and leisurely poke around. He often felt he should buy something, and many times, it was a water pistol. I laughed. One summer, my parents visited and brought water pistols for the cabin. We had a short time playing with them before they were confiscated by our counselors.
That was Lenny. Gracious, friendly, down-to-earth and full of stories. Little would it have occurred to me that my boyhood friend of many summers would become the international superstar. Now that I look back, I’m not at all surprised.
(Author Herb Samuels produces toys and owned a companie for that. Since his retirement he is singing in Torontos Avenue Road Arts School.)
Here is the text:
I remember him as Lenny. We were campers together for a number of years at Wabi-Kon, near Temagami. Lenny was the undisputed leader of the cabin. It was not due to his forcing his way into the role. It was rather by the warmth and magnetism of his personality that made you want to follow him.
Not athletically inclined, he was physically quite strong. A lot of that strength came from force of will. At a relatively young age, he would swim the length of the pool [25 yards] underwater. Someone read that you could not hold your arms straight out perpendicular to your body more than a certain length of time. He took that as a challenge and proceeded to do it.
One summer, we became superheroes with towels tied around our neck as capes. Lenny’s idea was instead of saying „shazam“, like Captain Marvel, we say our names backwards. By his saying „Dranoel Nehoc“ or in my case Trebreh Sleumas“, we were transformed.
I remember he taught me how to comb my hair to achieve the same pompadour he had. Somehow, it didn’t attract the girls to me like the way they gravitated to Lenny.
He was a storyteller. One night, after lights were out, he spun a tale for what seemed like a half hour. He related how he was waiting for a bus during a heavy Montréal snowstorm. He described the scene, the street name, and bus number in full detail. A passing motorist offered him a ride home. But first had to stop at the driver’s first-floor apartment to pick something up. He invited Lenny to come with him out of the cold. His host momentarily left the room and returned holding a knife. He came at Lenny who evaded him, momentarily, and tried to partially out the man „grabbed me by the leg. He started pulling my leg, pulling my leg, just like I’m pulling yours.“
Years later, I flew to New York with my brother and sister-in-law. While waiting for a cab, my sister-in-law said „Isn’t that Leonard Cohen, standing over there alone? Why don’t you say hello.“ Shyly, I went over and the four of us shared a pleasant relaxed taxi into Manhattan. On the way, Lenny said offhandedly that he often thought of me. Nonplussed, I asked why. He said one of his favorite past times, particularly when in a new place, was to go into a variety store, and leisurely poke around. He often felt he should buy something, and many times, it was a water pistol. I laughed. One summer, my parents visited and brought water pistols for the cabin. We had a short time playing with them before they were confiscated by our counselors.
That was Lenny. Gracious, friendly, down-to-earth and full of stories. Little would it have occurred to me that my boyhood friend of many summers would become the international superstar. Now that I look back, I’m not at all surprised.
(Author Herb Samuels produces toys and owned a companie for that. Since his retirement he is singing in Torontos Avenue Road Arts School.)
Re: Leonard Has Passed Away
http://www.slate.fr/story/128486/si-je- ... nard-cohen
Leonard Cohen n'était pas censé mourir. Ni aujourd'hui, ni demain, ni jamais.
Dieu était tellement inconsolable d'avoir laissé Trump gagner la présidentielle américaine que Leonard Cohen, en bon fils de famille, a dû aller le consoler. C'est la seule explication que je trouve à sa disparition. Leonard Cohen n'était pas censé mourir. Ni aujourd'hui, ni demain, ni jamais. Il était la voix du prophète, le sang de la Bible, la voix de l'immémoriale sagesse née sur les rives du Jourdain.
Il n'avait pas d'âge. Ses chansons non plus. On les écoutera encore dans cent mille ans. On les écoutera même après que le monde aura cessé d'être. On les écoutera dans la même ferveur religieuse qu'aujourd'hui, saisis par cette voix grave et chaude, lente et suave, sensuelle et tendre, la voix même de l'amour, l'amour de la femme, l'amour des hommes, l'amour de l'amour.
L'amour qui réunit les amants dans la douce étreinte d'une chambre à coucher, l'amour qui magnifie l'existence et donne un sens à notre présence sur terre, l'amour qui transcende et illumine le quotidien, l'amour qui console et ravage les âmes. Leonard Cohen n'était qu'Amour. Quête de l'amour. Perte de l'amour. Perte dans l'amour.
Il faisait l'amour à nos cœurs, à nos âmes, cet amour qui est l'amour même d'un Dieu aimant, d'un Dieu qui oublierait pour une fois sa colère et sa soif de vengeance pour nous prendre dans ses bras et nous bercer jusqu'à ce que nous finissions par nous endormir.
C'est ce qui était pratique avec Leonard Cohen: grâce à ses disques, on n'avait plus besoin de se rendre à la synagogue, c'est elle qui venait à nous, il suffisait de fermer les yeux, la voix de Cohen était la voix du Cantor, elle chantait la douleur et la beauté, elle évoquait les temps lointains des premiers Temples, elle chantait la mémoire d'Isaac et de Joshué, de tous ces prophètes qui menaient le peuple d’Israël à la conquête de la Terre Promise.
Tout était à sa place dans les chansons de Leonard Cohen. Il avait le sens de l'économie, de la pudeur, et de la discrétion qui est la marque de l'élégance suprême. Du charme. De cette chose innée qu'on nomme tout simplement la classe. La sobriété dans la peine comme dans la joie. Le salut par le chant. La rédemption par le Verbe.
Et les deux mêlés, le chant et le verbe, le verbe et le chant, sur le fil d'une guitare fluette, au son de chœurs montant haut vers le ciel, par l'entremise de sanglots de violons, ensorcelaient nos cœurs, peignaient des paysages sonores, dessinaient des arabesques, rendant palpable la pulsation même de l'amour, de l'acte amoureux.
Leonard Cohen n'est pas mort, non, il a juste rejoint le chœur des Patriarches, la maison de ses Pères, au cœur même de l'éternité, là où le Temps n'a plus cours, dans la splendeur de palais dorés, parmi la douceur de femmes alanguies sur des lits suspendus entre le ciel et la terre.
Prenez-bien soin de lui, il a passé sa vie à vous chanter.
Laurent Sagalovitsch
Leonard Cohen n'était pas censé mourir. Ni aujourd'hui, ni demain, ni jamais.
Dieu était tellement inconsolable d'avoir laissé Trump gagner la présidentielle américaine que Leonard Cohen, en bon fils de famille, a dû aller le consoler. C'est la seule explication que je trouve à sa disparition. Leonard Cohen n'était pas censé mourir. Ni aujourd'hui, ni demain, ni jamais. Il était la voix du prophète, le sang de la Bible, la voix de l'immémoriale sagesse née sur les rives du Jourdain.
Il n'avait pas d'âge. Ses chansons non plus. On les écoutera encore dans cent mille ans. On les écoutera même après que le monde aura cessé d'être. On les écoutera dans la même ferveur religieuse qu'aujourd'hui, saisis par cette voix grave et chaude, lente et suave, sensuelle et tendre, la voix même de l'amour, l'amour de la femme, l'amour des hommes, l'amour de l'amour.
L'amour qui réunit les amants dans la douce étreinte d'une chambre à coucher, l'amour qui magnifie l'existence et donne un sens à notre présence sur terre, l'amour qui transcende et illumine le quotidien, l'amour qui console et ravage les âmes. Leonard Cohen n'était qu'Amour. Quête de l'amour. Perte de l'amour. Perte dans l'amour.
Il faisait l'amour à nos cœurs, à nos âmes, cet amour qui est l'amour même d'un Dieu aimant, d'un Dieu qui oublierait pour une fois sa colère et sa soif de vengeance pour nous prendre dans ses bras et nous bercer jusqu'à ce que nous finissions par nous endormir.
C'est ce qui était pratique avec Leonard Cohen: grâce à ses disques, on n'avait plus besoin de se rendre à la synagogue, c'est elle qui venait à nous, il suffisait de fermer les yeux, la voix de Cohen était la voix du Cantor, elle chantait la douleur et la beauté, elle évoquait les temps lointains des premiers Temples, elle chantait la mémoire d'Isaac et de Joshué, de tous ces prophètes qui menaient le peuple d’Israël à la conquête de la Terre Promise.
Tout était à sa place dans les chansons de Leonard Cohen. Il avait le sens de l'économie, de la pudeur, et de la discrétion qui est la marque de l'élégance suprême. Du charme. De cette chose innée qu'on nomme tout simplement la classe. La sobriété dans la peine comme dans la joie. Le salut par le chant. La rédemption par le Verbe.
Et les deux mêlés, le chant et le verbe, le verbe et le chant, sur le fil d'une guitare fluette, au son de chœurs montant haut vers le ciel, par l'entremise de sanglots de violons, ensorcelaient nos cœurs, peignaient des paysages sonores, dessinaient des arabesques, rendant palpable la pulsation même de l'amour, de l'acte amoureux.
Leonard Cohen n'est pas mort, non, il a juste rejoint le chœur des Patriarches, la maison de ses Pères, au cœur même de l'éternité, là où le Temps n'a plus cours, dans la splendeur de palais dorés, parmi la douceur de femmes alanguies sur des lits suspendus entre le ciel et la terre.
Prenez-bien soin de lui, il a passé sa vie à vous chanter.
Laurent Sagalovitsch
- clive cass
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Re: Leonard Has Passed Away
Dublin(3) 14/5/12, Lille 25/9/10, Liverpool 14/7/09, Manchester 30/11/08, Manchester 17/6/08, London 1988 or 1993 date unknown, Manchester 27/2/85
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Re: Leonard Has Passed Away
The following column appeared in the Winchester (VA) Star on Saturday, Nov. 12.
Connections
by Maria Montgomery
Rest in Peace,
Leonard Cohen
Amid the stress and exhaustion of this election week, Leonard Cohen quietly slipped away.
In the perfect contretemps to the surreal and jarring events that have engulfed much of this nation, the poet and musician who gave voice to the spiritual and sexual longing of a generation was gone before we knew it, literally.
He passed away on Monday at the age of 82, in the final raucous hours before the election. But his death was not announced until Thursday, after he had been buried in Montreal in a private ceremony.
The contrast couldn’t be more profound between the tumult of the long run-up and stunning election result and Cohen’s gentle manner of leave-taking. After a life spent touching so many of us on a deeply personal and spiritual level, he left without a whisper.
My husband, Roger, and I knew from his webpage that he had been suffering from “severe back pain” during the recording of his final CD of songs, “You Want It Darker.” His followers now suspect a terminal illness as well. The CD was released last month and has been hailed by critics as perhaps his best, its songs ranking with his finest anthems such as “Suzanne,” “So long, Marianne” and “Hallelujah.”
We have been listening to it frequently for the past three weeks.
The haunting refrain, “I’m ready, My Lord,” (Hineni in Hebrew) along with an infusion of classical instrumentation and the echoes of a Jewish cantor, make it clear to those who have followed Cohen and his career closely that this was his version of Mozart's funeral Mass. Despite years spent in a Zen monastery in Los Angeles, Cohen was always, at the deepest core, a believer who frequented the Biblical landscape of his Jewish youth to identify with the unseen.
Cohen’s songs have been the soundtrack of Roger's and my married life for only four years, but the intersection of his music and our story dates back 40 years.
Roger and I first met in 1977 in Connecticut, where we moved in a circle of young journalists. Roger’s favorite recording artist was the Canadian-born poet and musician Cohen, and I soon became an avid fan.
We quoted Cohen to each other while we wrote and edited stories together during those years, until Roger moved away in 1981, eventually settling in California.
I did not see him for 32 years, though we stayed in touch through occasional Christmas cards.
We reunited in 2012, reaching out to each other across a chasm of grief after the death of my first husband, Mark, who suffered from MS for 23 years. Roger's wife, Haleh, had died in 2002 from breast cancer, and Roger knew and shared my pain. Our telephone courtship was both healing in nature and stunning in swiftness, closing the gap across dozens of years in just a few nights. We often recited Cohen's poem, "Come Healing," to one another.
In early 2013, after meeting just twice, Roger and I decided to spend the rest of our lives together. He was a semi-retired writer and editor, and I still had some years to work. I planned to fly to California so we could make the road trip back to Virginia together.
The day after I bought an airplane ticket to San Francisco for March 1, Cohen announced he would make his only West Coast concert appearance that year on March 2 in Oakland, a ten-minute drive from where Roger lived in Berkeley. Roger has seen Cohen perform several times; for me, it would be the first and only time.
Through great effort, Roger managed to get second row seats for the concert, and I cried the whole way through. Roger called the whole chain of events “synchronicity,” and I couldn’t disagree.
I cried again Friday morning when I saw The Star’s story about Cohen’s death, letting go for the first time in an emotional week. Cohen died on Nov. 7, between the anniversary of Haleh’s death (Nov. 6) and the fifth anniversary of the death of my husband, Mark (Nov. 18). As always, Cohen binds those two to us.
So, Rest in Peace, Leonard. A fine poet and, though we never actually met, a dear, dear friend.
Connections
by Maria Montgomery
Rest in Peace,
Leonard Cohen
Amid the stress and exhaustion of this election week, Leonard Cohen quietly slipped away.
In the perfect contretemps to the surreal and jarring events that have engulfed much of this nation, the poet and musician who gave voice to the spiritual and sexual longing of a generation was gone before we knew it, literally.
He passed away on Monday at the age of 82, in the final raucous hours before the election. But his death was not announced until Thursday, after he had been buried in Montreal in a private ceremony.
The contrast couldn’t be more profound between the tumult of the long run-up and stunning election result and Cohen’s gentle manner of leave-taking. After a life spent touching so many of us on a deeply personal and spiritual level, he left without a whisper.
My husband, Roger, and I knew from his webpage that he had been suffering from “severe back pain” during the recording of his final CD of songs, “You Want It Darker.” His followers now suspect a terminal illness as well. The CD was released last month and has been hailed by critics as perhaps his best, its songs ranking with his finest anthems such as “Suzanne,” “So long, Marianne” and “Hallelujah.”
We have been listening to it frequently for the past three weeks.
The haunting refrain, “I’m ready, My Lord,” (Hineni in Hebrew) along with an infusion of classical instrumentation and the echoes of a Jewish cantor, make it clear to those who have followed Cohen and his career closely that this was his version of Mozart's funeral Mass. Despite years spent in a Zen monastery in Los Angeles, Cohen was always, at the deepest core, a believer who frequented the Biblical landscape of his Jewish youth to identify with the unseen.
Cohen’s songs have been the soundtrack of Roger's and my married life for only four years, but the intersection of his music and our story dates back 40 years.
Roger and I first met in 1977 in Connecticut, where we moved in a circle of young journalists. Roger’s favorite recording artist was the Canadian-born poet and musician Cohen, and I soon became an avid fan.
We quoted Cohen to each other while we wrote and edited stories together during those years, until Roger moved away in 1981, eventually settling in California.
I did not see him for 32 years, though we stayed in touch through occasional Christmas cards.
We reunited in 2012, reaching out to each other across a chasm of grief after the death of my first husband, Mark, who suffered from MS for 23 years. Roger's wife, Haleh, had died in 2002 from breast cancer, and Roger knew and shared my pain. Our telephone courtship was both healing in nature and stunning in swiftness, closing the gap across dozens of years in just a few nights. We often recited Cohen's poem, "Come Healing," to one another.
In early 2013, after meeting just twice, Roger and I decided to spend the rest of our lives together. He was a semi-retired writer and editor, and I still had some years to work. I planned to fly to California so we could make the road trip back to Virginia together.
The day after I bought an airplane ticket to San Francisco for March 1, Cohen announced he would make his only West Coast concert appearance that year on March 2 in Oakland, a ten-minute drive from where Roger lived in Berkeley. Roger has seen Cohen perform several times; for me, it would be the first and only time.
Through great effort, Roger managed to get second row seats for the concert, and I cried the whole way through. Roger called the whole chain of events “synchronicity,” and I couldn’t disagree.
I cried again Friday morning when I saw The Star’s story about Cohen’s death, letting go for the first time in an emotional week. Cohen died on Nov. 7, between the anniversary of Haleh’s death (Nov. 6) and the fifth anniversary of the death of my husband, Mark (Nov. 18). As always, Cohen binds those two to us.
So, Rest in Peace, Leonard. A fine poet and, though we never actually met, a dear, dear friend.
Re: Leonard Has Passed Away
Still doesn't seem real. For the ten years I have been a fan he has been a huge part of my life. My friends and family called me to make sure i was ok when they heard the news. There are not enough words to thank him for his work and words. I wonder if the vault of live recordings will still see the light of day, not to mention other material that may be available. I still dream of an official release of the magical concert in Durham I attended! Knowing Leonard was away with his work always brought a brightness to my days....
Jake.........Durham, NC 11-3-09; Brooklyn, NY 12-20-12
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Re: Leonard Has Passed Away
Un Aurevoir
Oh symbiose d'intelligence
et de sensualité
apaise mon esprit,
ta silhouette disparaissant à l'horizon
de l'immense ciel du couchant,
en laissant ta voix au mitan de nous.
Yves Simard, PhD, UdeM et U de Besançon
(Avec presque tes propres mots, Leonard, mais dans l'autre langue de Mtl)
Oh symbiose d'intelligence
et de sensualité
apaise mon esprit,
ta silhouette disparaissant à l'horizon
de l'immense ciel du couchant,
en laissant ta voix au mitan de nous.
Yves Simard, PhD, UdeM et U de Besançon
(Avec presque tes propres mots, Leonard, mais dans l'autre langue de Mtl)
Re: Leonard Has Passed Away
Marie, thank you so much for posting the comments of Cantor Gideon Zelermeyer. There is so much nourishment in every paragraph there.
Leonard was many things to many people, but a man of faith in God always.
When first I learned of Leonard's passing, it appeared he'd gone peacefully to sleep. Now more details emerge indicating he may have suffered.
That is so sad.
My wish is that Adam and Lorca will know and find solace in the millions of arms that reach out to embrace them now.
Leonard was many things to many people, but a man of faith in God always.
When first I learned of Leonard's passing, it appeared he'd gone peacefully to sleep. Now more details emerge indicating he may have suffered.
That is so sad.
My wish is that Adam and Lorca will know and find solace in the millions of arms that reach out to embrace them now.
Re: Leonard Has Passed Away
Has Anjani commented at all anywhere on Leonard's passing? I didn't see anything on her website. I think she also closed her message board.
LEONARD COHEN | HALLS OF FAME
The Official Halls of Fame Biographies of Leonard Cohen
http://www.leonardcohenhallsoffame.blogspot.com
The Official Halls of Fame Biographies of Leonard Cohen
http://www.leonardcohenhallsoffame.blogspot.com
Re: Leonard Has Passed Away
Yes Roy, there is a statement on her facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/anjani/Roy wrote:Has Anjani commented at all anywhere on Leonard's passing? I didn't see anything on her website. I think she also closed her message board.
Re: Leonard Has Passed Away
Leonard Cohen and the great metaphysical poet John Donne are somewhat as one, says this article.
https://www.theguardian.com/music/2016/ ... nne-poetry
https://www.theguardian.com/music/2016/ ... nne-poetry
Re: Leonard Has Passed Away
Just found this. Glen with Javier on 18/11, Antwerp ... Famous Blue Raincoat https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J5y9bg95zbICarobed wrote:Yesterday we saw Glen Hansard in Borgerhout (Belgium) and also on stage, Javier Mas. His only answer to the terrible blow of Leonard's death is playing music. Together they brought four magical Cohen songs and we all could feel the burden of loss somewhat mitigated by this stunning homage. On Wednesday Bear's Den played So long Marianne and on Monday Rufus Wainwright sang Hallelujah. And that is all we can to to ease our pain. As Chris McCandless knew: love is only real when shared.
And this by then, also 18/11... So Long Marianne https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=izDVpC05zcA
And this - Who By Fire, 18/11 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=akWyseXBTE0
Search youtube and ye shall find. More might be put up.
And a tribute by Imperfect Offering, a Leonard Cohen tribute band, in New Zealand on 12/11: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ek0WDXvHtng
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Re: Leonard Has Passed Away
Thanks Tularosa for sharing the article by Laurent Sagalovitch. My French is not very good, but I managed to translate it into Dutch. It is poetry in itself. Moving and a very good description of the feelings Leonard evoked in people.