James A. Winn

Scholar:

Publication of Queen Anne:
Patroness of Art
s:   1 July, 2014

Selected reviews:

The Independent (London)
The Wall Street Journal

The Times Literary Supplement

Eighteenth-Century Life

Video interviews:
Three short clips produced by
Oxford University Press:

1. On Anne’s interest and training in the arts
2. Historical methodology
3. The mechanics of royal       patronage

Full-length interview produced by faculti.net

faculti.net

The Poetry of War (Cambridge, 2008)

Interview on NPR’s “On Point”

Opinion pieces:

The Humanities Institute as the
Play within the Play (2011)

Academic Profile 
Curriculum Vitae

      

 Flutist:

Upcoming Concerts:

October 2015 (date not yet set)
with Daniel Doña, viola, and
Franzika Huhn, harp:
Works of Debussy, Chausson,
and Persichetti

Recent concerts:

May 15, 2015, 3:00 p.m.
Marshall Room, Boston University, with Ketty Nez, piano.

December 6, St. John’s Church,
Jamaica Plain:

Works for flute and piano by Schumann, Martinu, Vaughan Williams, and Prokofieff.

October 15, Marsh Chapel:

Works for solo flute by Bach, Debussy, Varèse, and Berio.

Listen to recording of Bach partita in a minor on SoundCloud.

 

 


 Musical Profile

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    Background image: Anne Killigrew,
    Venus Adorned by the Graces, c. 1684    

     

    Poem of the month:

    I Knew a Woman

    I knew a woman, lovely in her bones,
    When small birds sighed, she would sigh back at them;   
    Ah, when she moved, she moved more ways than one:   
    The shapes a bright container can contain!
    Of her choice virtues only gods should speak,
    Or English poets who grew up on Greek
    (I’d have them sing in chorus, cheek to cheek).

    How well her wishes went! She stroked my chin,   
    She taught me Turn, and Counter-turn, and Stand;   
    She taught me Touch, that undulant white skin;   
    I nibbled meekly from her proffered hand;   
    She was the sickle; I, poor I, the rake,
    Coming behind her for her pretty sake
    (But what prodigious mowing we did make).

    Love likes a gander, and adores a goose:
    Her full lips pursed, the errant note to seize;
    She played it quick, she played it light and loose;   
    My eyes, they dazzled at her flowing knees;   
    Her several parts could keep a pure repose,   
    Or one hip quiver with a mobile nose
    (She moved in circles, and those circles moved).

    Let seed be grass, and grass turn into hay:   
    I’m martyr to a motion not my own;
    What’s freedom for? To know eternity.
    I swear she cast a shadow white as stone.   
    But who would count eternity in days?
    These old bones live to learn her wanton ways:   
    (I measure time by how a body sways).

                                                     ——Theodore Roethke

     

    6 May 2015