  | 
      Background 
        BLACK ON BLACK/13 consists of a reading with slides 
          of Wallace Stevenss poem "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird" 
          followed by a slide choreography of Richard Brookss Chorale 
          Variations for Two Horns and String Orchestra. The latter partakes 
          of the poems gloomy dimensions and is likewise made up of thirteen 
          sections. Beyond this, let the pairing of these two works stand as reflections 
          of our feelings about the dizzying, often inexplicable happenings of 
          the last fifty years. 
        BLACK ON BLACK/13 was presented on November 11, 2001, 
          at The German Evangelical-Lutheran Church of St Paul in New York City 
          as a featured work on our program titled American Dream / American 
          Nightmare. The reader was, as he is here, Off-Broadway director 
          Richard Edelman; the music was presented, as it will be here, from the 
          CD Tonus Tomis (Capstone Records, CPS-8627) and performed by 
          the Constanta Symphony Orchestra with Radu Ciorei conducting. My visuals, 
          originally color slides that I made from digital images, have been adjusted 
          for this web presentation. 
          
        The Poem 
        				 ________________________1 
          Among twenty snowy mountains, 
          The only moving thing 
          Was the eye of the black bird. 
        				________________________2 
          I was of three minds, 
          Like a tree 
          In which there are three blackbirds. 
        				________________________3 
          The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds. 
          It was a small part of the pantomime. 
        				________________________4 
          A man and a woman 
          Are one. 
          A man and a woman and a blackbird 
          Are one. 
        				________________________5 
          I do not know which to prefer, 
          The beauty of inflections 
          Or the beauty of innuendoes, 
          The blackbird whistling 
          Or just after. 
        				________________________6 
          Icicles filled the long window 
          With barbaric glass. 
          The shadow of the blackbird 
          Crossed it to and fro. 
          The mood 
          Traced in the shadow 
          An indecipherable cause. 
        				________________________7 
          O thin men of Haddam 
          Why do you imagine golden birds? 
          Do you not see how the blackbird 
          Walks around the feet 
          Of the women about you? 
        				________________________8 
          I know noble accents 
          And lucid, inescapable rhythms; 
          But l know, too, 
          That the blackbird is involved 
          In what I know. 
        				________________________9 
          When the blackbird flew out of sight, 
          It marked the edge 
          Of one of many circles. 
        				________________________10 
          At the sight of blackbirds 
          Flying in a green light, 
          Even the bawds of euphony 
          Would cry out sharply. 
        				________________________11 
          He rode over Connecticut 
          In a glass coach. 
          Once, a fear pierced him 
          In that he mistook 
          The shadow of his equipage 
          For blackbirds. 
        				________________________12 
          The river is moving. 
          The blackbird must be flying.  
        				________________________13 
          It was evening all afternoon. 
          It was snowing 
          And it was going to snow. 
          The blackbird sat 
          In the cedar-limbs.  
          
         This poem, which first appeared in 1917 in a collection 
          titled Others: An Anthology of the New Verse, 1 
          is commonly believed to be related to haiku both in form and spirit. 
          While haikus distinctive three-line stanza of five, seven, and 
          five syllables is nowhere to be found in it, three of the stanzas (1, 
          2, and 9) consist of three lines each, and in five of the other stanzas 
          (5, 6, 7, 8, and 13), there are three-line sense units. 2 
          Further, in a number of the stanzas, a season of the year (kigo) 
          is indicated—winter in stanzas 1, 6, and 13; autumn in stanza 
          3; and perhaps spring ("Flying in a green light) in stanza 10. 
          Also, there seems to be a throwing together of unrelated images (renso) 
          in stanzas 2 and 5, and possibly a zen-like leap (satori) in 
          the last lines of stanza 10 ("Even the bawds of euphony/ Would 
          cry out sharply").  
        	Scholars have also called attention 
          to a parallel between Stevenss "ways of looking at" 
          approach and paintings of views of the same subject, such as Mount Fuji, 
          by Hiroshige and his imitators. But also to be taken into consideration 
          in this respect is Marcel Prousts Du côté de chez 
          Swann (Swanns Way), which appeared in 1913 as the first volume 
          of À la recherche du temps perdu (known in English as 
          Remembrance of Things Past), and his Le Côté 
          de Guermantes (1920-1921); in other words, "ways of looking 
          at" was in the air as an approach in the West during the World 
          War I era. Indeed, Proust himself shifted perspective from "du 
          côté de" (in the direction of) to 
          "le côté de" (the side of). Also, 
          possibly to be counted among contemporary "ways of looking at" 
          was Samuel Butlers novel, The Way of All Flesh (1903), 
          which surveyed the lives and differing perspectives of four generations 
          of the Pontifex family. One thing remains clear: in "Thirteen Ways 
          of Looking at a Blackbird," there are at least eight different 
          views of "blackbird." In the title and stanza 4, reference 
          is made to "a blackbird"; in stanza 1, to "the eye of 
          the black bird" or "blackbird"; 3 
          in stanza 2, to "three blackbirds" in a tree; in stanzas 3, 
          7, 8, 9, 12, and 13 to "the blackbird"; in stanza 5, to "the 
          blackbird whistling"; in stanza 6, to "the shadow of the blackbird"; 
          in stanza 10, to "blackbirds flying"; and in stanza 11, to 
          "blackbirds." Indeed, the various guises of "blackbird" 
          seem to be a kind of verbal analogue to birds flitting around in a tree. 
        	But Stevenss survey of "ways of looking 
          at" does not stop there; different points of view are also presented 
          during the course of the poem. There is the introspective "I" 
          of stanzas 2, 5, and 8 ("I was of three minds"; "I do 
          not know which to prefer"; "I know noble accents"). There 
          is an understood "I" uttering an opinion in stanza 4 ("A 
          man and a woman / Are one") and exhorting the "thin men of 
          Haddam" in stanza 7. Further, stanzas 3, 6, 9, 10, 12, and 13 end 
          with first-person-like observations or conjectures: "It was a small 
          part of the pantomime"; "The mood / Traced in the shadow / 
          An indecipherable cause"; "It marked the edge / Of one of 
          many circles"; "Even the bawds of euphony would cry out sharply"; 
          "The blackbird must be flying"; "The blackbird sat / 
          In the cedar-limbs." In stanza 11, there is an inexplicable shift 
          to the third person ("He rode over Connecticut"), with no 
          indication as to who is being referred to. Could Stevens perhaps have 
          signaled these shifts in point of view by the moving "eye" 
          [sic] of the black bird (or blackbird) in stanza 1?  
        	Also to be found in the poem are different forms 
          of exposition. In stanzas 1, 2, 3, 6, 9, and 11, there is straight description, 
          and in stanzas 10, 12, and 13, such descriptions are followed by a conjecture 
          or prediction ("Even the bawds of euphony / Would cry out sharply"; 
          "The blackbird must be flying"; "It was snowing / And 
          it was going to snow"). Seeming statements of fact or opinion reminiscent 
          of mathematical equations occur in stanzas 4, 5, and 8, and in stanza 
          7, there is an exhortation. 
        	These sudden and sometimes inexplicable shifts in 
          point of view and rhetorical strategy seem odd when considered in isolation. 
          However, when looked at in the context of the often playful climate 
          of the absurd in the arts during the World War I era, they are anything 
          but that. Coming to mind in particular in this respect are the witty 
          non sequiturs of T. S. Eliots "Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," 
          which was published in the same year as "Thirteen Ways," and 
          Gertrude Steins departure into fragmentation and abstraction in 
          Tender Buttons (1914). In the other arts, one might mention the 
          intersecting planes of Cubism, the multiple views-in-one of Marcel Duchamps 
          Nude Descending a Staircase No. 2 (1912), and Schönbergs 
          experiments with the voice in Pierrot Lunaire (1912). 
          This absurdist trend in the arts was to continue after the war in such 
          works as Sir William Waltons Façade with text by 
          Dame Edith Sitwell (1922), and in movements like Dada (1919-1924). 
        	Given this cultural milieu, Wallace Stevenss 
          "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird" deserves a closer 
          examination along lines that have heretofore been neglected—to 
          begin with, of the number of occasions in which the numbers 1 and 3 
          occur in the poem. As stated above, there are three stanzas consisting 
          of three lines each and five other stanzas with three-line sense units. 
          As also noted, three of the seasons are very likely indicated during 
          the course of the poem, there are three different winter settings, and 
          the introspective "I" appears in three stanzas. 	 
        	But this is not all; a closer scrutiny reveals that 
          there are quite a few other instances of the number 3 in the poem and 
          at times of the number 1 in connection with the 3. In stanza 2, the 
          "I," a 1, is of "three minds"—i.e., 1 = 3. 
          In stanza 4, "A man and a woman and a blackbird / Are one"—i.e., 
          3 = 1. In stanza 1, "twenty snowy mountains" + a "black 
          bird" (or "blackbird") = 21, which is divisible by 3. 
          Further, "I know" and "It was" occur three times 
          each in stanzas 8 and 13, respectively. Finally, there is a curious 
          one-and-three pattern in many of the line-endings—i.e., there 
          are an unusually large number of lines terminating in a three-syllable 
          unit whose first syllable, as it falls on its line, is strong or heavy: 
          "moving thing," "like a tree," "autumn winds," 
          "pantomime," "to and fro," "golden birds," 
          "is involved," "what I know," "out of sight," 
          "marked the edge," "euphony," "afternoon," 
          "cedar-limbs." The first two words of the title of the poem 
          seem to anticipate this: Thirteen Ways. 
        	Also deserving of closer scrutiny 
          are the occurrences of the color black in the poem. There is a direct 
          association of black with death in the exhortation to the thin men of 
          Haddam in stanza 7 ("Do you not see how the blackbird / Walks around 
          the feet / Of the women about you?"). Perhaps death is implied 
          in the description in stanza 6 ("The shadow of the blackbird crossed 
          it to and fro") and in the life cycle that begins with the spring 
          thaw ("The river is moving") in stanza 12, and very likely 
          death underlies the conclusions in stanzas 4, 8, 10, and 11 ("A 
          man and a woman and a blackbird / Are one"; "But I know, too, 
          / that the blackbird is involved / In what I know"; "At the 
          sight of blackbirds / Flying in a green light, / Even the bawds of euphony 
          / Would cry out sharply"; "Once, a fear pierced him / In that 
          he mistook / The shadow of his equipage / For blackbirds"). But 
          on all of these occasions except for the two involving shadows (stanzas 
          6 and 11), death via black seems to be represented as a natural occurrence 
          or, if you will, a part of process, and only once or twice (with respect 
          to the mysterious rider in the coach in stanza 11 and possibly to the 
          "bawds of euphony" in stanza 10) does death via black seem 
          to have a negative connotation. Elsewhere in the poem, black seems to 
          have nothing to do with death: "The only moving thing / Was the 
          eye of the black bird" (or "blackbird"); "The blackbird 
          whistling/ Or just after"; "It marked the edge/ Of one of 
          many circles"; "The river is moving. / The blackbird must 
          be flying." And on some occasions, it is associated with something 
          colorful, particularly green: "Like a tree / In which there are 
          three blackbirds"; "The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds. 
          / It was a small part of the pantomime"; "The blackbird sat 
          / In the cedar-limbs."	 
        	What Stevens seems to have done, 
          then, within the space of the poems fifty-four lines (which number 
          is divisible by 3 three times), is to present an exploration or, if 
          you will, a "deconstruction" of the concepts of "thirteen" 
          and "black," which until recently have had largely irrational 
          negative connotations in traditional Western culture, and he did this 
          seemingly with a random or impressionistic hand. One might think of 
          Stevens here as having been a poet and philosopher with sketch pad and 
          metronome—and calculator. 
         
        Endnotes 
        1 (NY: Knopf), edited 
          by Alfred Kreymborg, and it featured works by such future luminaries 
          as T.S. Eliot, Marianne Moore, Carl Sandburg, and William Carlos Williams, 
          plus a dozen others, including Kreymborg, who have fallen by the wayside, 
          or like Maxwell Bodenheim, who were to come to public attention in another 
          way.  
        2 Stevenss use of 
          set numbers here is reminiscent of Marianne Moores syllabic poems, 
          where the corresponding lines of each stanza contain the same number 
          of syllables. While they did not meet until many years later, Moore 
          was also published in Others in the second decade of the century, 
          and they must have been familiar with one anothers work as well 
          as the syllable counting in French vers libre and the works of 
          imitators in English like Pound, Amy Lowell, and T.S. Elliot. 
        3 
          In Others, the rendering is "blackbird," but in the 
          first edition of Harmonium (NY: Knopf, 1923), this was somehow 
          changed to "black bird." Stevens corrected this to "blackbird" 
          in the next edition of Harmonium (1931), and that spelling (with 
          concept) remained standard in the 1947 edition and in the edition of 
          the collected poems and its successive re-printings that came out before 
          his death.  In their edition of 1997, which I have chosen to 
          use as my copy-text, Frank Kermode and Joan Richardson based their texts 
          of the poems in Harmonium on the first edition, hence the reading 
          "black bird." I am indebted to Off-Broadway actor-director 
          Richard Edelman for pointing out the alternate text to me. In his recitation 
          of the poem for us, he chose to read it that way, as "black bird." 
         
        List of Works Consulted 
        Kreymborg, Alfred, ed. Others: An Anthology of  
          —. the New Verse. NY: Knopf, 
          1917. 
          Stevens, Wallace. Harmonium. NY: Knopf, 1923. 
          —. Harmonium. NY: Knopf, 1931. 
          —. Harmonium. NY: Knopf, 1947. 
          —. The Collected Poems of Wallace Stevens.  
          —. NY: Knopf, 1954. 
          —. Wallace Stevens: Collected Poetry and Prose.  
          —.  NY: The Library of America, 
          1997. 
           
          Reprinted from "Stevens's THIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT A BLACKBIRD,"
          in The Explicator 62, no. 4 (Summer 2004): 217-221.
         
          
        The Music  
        According to the composer, Chorale 
          Variations breaks down into the following sections: 
        	1. Introduction (for tutti strings, 
          using intervals of seconds and sevenths) 
        	2. Chorale 1 (for two solo horns) 
        	3. String variation 1 in intervals 
          of fourths and fifths (for quintet) 
        	4. Horn variation 1 in unisons 
          and octaves (for two solo horns) 
        	5. Interlude 1, Chorale 2 (for 
          two horns, accompanied by tutti strings) 
        	6. Horn variation 2 (in steps 
          for two solo horns) in combination with string variation 2 (in intervals 
          of thirds for quintet) 
        	7. Interlude 2 (beginning with 
          tutti strings and leading to "Aus tiefer Not schrei' ich zu dir," 
          a Bach harmonization with additives by me, each phrase of which is punctuated 
          by the two horns) 
        	8. Horn variation 3 (in intervals 
          of thirds, vivace, for two solo horns) 
        	9. String variation 3 (in steps 
          for quintet) 
        	10. Chorale 2 (for two horns 
          accompanied by string quintet, with a big crescendo leading to Interlude 
          3) 
        	11. Interlude 3 (for tutti strings) 
        	12. Horn variation 4 (in intervals 
          of fourths and fifths for two solo horns) 
        	13. String variation 4 (in unisons 
          and octaves for quintet, with Chorale 2 for two horns) 
        Regarding this work, Mr. Brooks went 
          on to say: 
        	I originally wrote the horn parts 
          as a duet for two students here at Nassau Community College way back 
          in the mid-70s, but they never played it, and in fact no one ever has. 
          After finishing my PhD, there was a burst of composing from 1980 to 
          1982, and during that period, I got the idea of recasting the horn duet 
          and adding strings. The horn parts are exactly the same as they were 
          in the original, except that each phrase is separated by the newly added 
          string music.  
        	The music is based on a twelve-tone 
          row derived from a hexachord (six notes) that uses successively larger 
          (or smaller) intervals; you can hear this effect most clearly in the 
          opening Chorale statement of the horns, first straight ahead and then 
          inverted. Each variation of the original duet focuses on each of the 
          intervals in succession, hence the designations "in unisons," 
          "in thirds," etc. When I added the string music, I decided 
          to use the same conceit but to do it backwards, i.e., working back from 
          larger intervals to smaller ones. Thus the horns progress from the unison 
          to the fourths and fifths, and the quintet starts with the fourths and 
          fifths and progresses to the unison at the very end. (The opening uses 
          seconds and sevenths, and was an afterthought.) In a sense, then, the 
          horns and string quintet each project this "wedge" gesture in a kind 
          of overlapping manner. The Interludes develop the interval patterns 
          in other ways as a contrast. 
        	At some point in the compositional 
          process, I began to hear the Bach Chorale "Aus tiefer Not schrei' ich 
          zu dir" and decided to make it the central section of the composition 
          and to link it to the other materials, which I did by two methods. Each 
          phrase is "punctuated" by horn figures related to the other material 
          (my Chorale), and the string quintet players grab hold of certain 
          pitches that are related to the tone row and "extract" them, so to speak. 
           
        	On the surface, this work is 
          rather abstract, but it can be understood on a deeper symbolic level 
          too. I am not a religious person, but to me there is something very 
          compelling about the notion of "crying out from deepest need," which 
          I think is what art is all about. Much of this piece is about conflict 
          and tension, a reflection, perhaps, of the turmoil going on around me 
          in the world and my need to make sense of it all. I wanted the ending 
          to create a sense of acceptance and serenity that I felt could be achieved 
          without recourse to traditional religion, which to my way of thinking 
          has been a dismal failure, with the possible exception of Buddhism. 
        	A final note: originally, the 
          parts for horn and string quintet were written using proportional notation, 
          which required the performers to do a lot of improvising. After a couple 
          of performances that I didn't care for, I decided to redo it in traditional 
          notation.  
          
        Wallace 
          Stevens (1879-1955) 
        Born in Reading, Pennsylvania, as the second of five 
          children of attorney Garrett Stevens and his wife, Margaretha (neé 
          Zeller), both of Dutch-German descent, Stevens went to school locally 
          and then spent several years at Harvard as a special student. His first 
          published verse appeared in the Harvard Advocate. 
        	In the first years of the century he attended New 
          York Law School and was admitted to the New York bar in 1904. After 
          practicing law for several years, he went on to a bonding firm, and 
          then in 1916 he became a specialist in investment banking with the Hartford 
          Accident and Indemnity Company, where over a period of years he rose 
          through the ranks to vice-president.  
        	In 1909, after a five-year courtship, Stevens married 
          Elsie Moll, who was also from Reading and so beautiful that she became 
          the model for the Liberty-head dime and half-dollar. One child, a daughter 
          Holly, was born to them in 1924. 
        	In 1923, Harmonium, his first book of poems, 
          appeared, and then after a hiatus, five more in fairly quick succession: 
          Ideas of Order (1935), The Man with the Blue Guitar 
          (1937), Parts of a World (1942), Transport to Summer 
          (1947), and The Auroras of Autumn (1950). Collected 
          Poems followed in 1954.  
        	Recognition came late, toward the end of his life, 
          with a series of prestigious awards, including the Bollingen Prize for 
          Poetry (1950), the National Book Award (1951), and the Pulitzer Prize 
          (1955). With a strong affinity for music and art, and a preoccupation 
          with the nature of reality and the important role of imagination in 
          our lives, Stevens is only now being recognized as a unique voice in 
          twentieth-century American poetry. 
        	Stevenss poetry can be great fun for both 
          young and old, often teasing the mind and sensibility without end, as 
          in the following from "Peter Quince at the Clavier": 
         
          	Beauty is momentary in the mind, 
            The fitful tracing of a portal,  
            But in the flesh it is immortal. 
         
        Among his best known poems, besides this work and "Thirteen 
          Ways of Looking at a Blackbird," are "Anecdote of the Jar," 
          "The Emperor of Ice-Cream," "Sunday Morning," "The 
          Idea of Order at Key West," and "The Man with the Blue Guitar," 
          all of which can be found in standard anthologies. 
          
        Richard 
          Brooks (b. 1942)  
        Born in Upstate New York as the eldest 
          of eight children, Richard Brooks grew up in West Windsor, a rural community 
          outside of Binghamton. As a small boy, he became fascinated by music 
          lines and notes and would sit for hours drawing them; in the sixth grade, 
          he started taking viola lessons because the school offered them without 
          charge "to get kids to play some newly acquired instruments." 
          He began composing seriously while in Windsor High School; his first 
          mature work, a mass in B minor, dates from his senior year there. 
        	Mr. Brooks earned a BS in Music 
          Education at SUNY-Potsdam, where he was required to devote a considerable 
          amount of time to perfecting his technique on the viola. Following graduation, 
          he began playing viola with the Binghamton Symphony Orchestra and the 
          Tri-Cities Opera Orchestra, and after a stint of teaching music in the 
          local public schools, he went on to SUNY-Binghamton on full fellowship 
          to take an MA in Music Composition. In 1971, Mr. Brooks came to New 
          York City to "break into an expanded musical environment." 
          In 1981, he earned a PhD in Composition at New York University. 
        	To date, Mr. Brooks has sixty 
          works to his credit. These include Moby Dick, a full-length opera, 
          and The Wishing Tree and Rapunzel, two operas for young 
          people, which were composed on commission; the latter was performed 
          by the Cincinatti Opera Company in March, 2002, to critical acclaim 
          and is now being considered by several other major opera companies. 
          Among the highlights of his instrumental works are the Trio for Violin, 
          Cello, and Piano and the Fantasy-Impromptu for piano, both of which 
          he wrote with an NEA grant for composition; the Quintet for Oboe and 
          Strings, which was commissioned by the Music Teachers Association of 
          New York State; and the orchestral work Landscape...with Grace. 
          Over the last several years the chamber works and excerpts from the 
          operas have been regularly performed. His commissions from The Lark 
          Ascending include preludes and a postlude for organ to our dramatic 
          reading of John Miltons Paradise Lost in February, 2001, 
          which was performed by Richard Erickson, and the same to our reading 
          of Samson Agonistes to be performed by violist Louise 
          Schulman and lutenist William Zito this coming April 2 at the CUNY Graduate 
          Center. Mr. Brooks has another full-length opera titled Robert and 
          Hal, a gay love story set in late Victorian London and Paris, with 
          a libretto by Marcia Elder, that will be receiving a workshop production 
          from us on April 15 at the German Evangelical-Lutheran Church of St 
          Paul in New York City. 
        	Mr. Brooks numbers among his 
          favorite composers Bach, Handel, Beethoven, Mozart, Haydn, Brahms, Wagner, 
          Verdi, Stravinsky, Berg, Webern, Schönberg, and Bartok because, 
          as he puts it, "they were all concerned with revealing the soul 
          within a controlled musical structure"; to Mr. Brooks, "Emotional 
          truthfulness wedded to disciplined structure equals great art." 
          On the other hand, he also "loves a good tune, and all of the aforenamed 
          knew how to be lyrical without being slurpy." 
        	As for where he stands musically, 
          he confided to us that he used to identify closely with twelve-tone 
          technique and dabbled in serialism, but now he "just tries to write 
          something beautiful using whatever means or techniques seem right." 
          In short, he rejects no "school" but refuses to be a slave 
          to any of them.  
          
        The Slides 
        	As I have often said, my slides 
          are intended to accompany a text, never to stand alone, and my strategy 
          is generally to complement a text with visuals rather than illustrate 
          it.  
        	There are thirteen slides in all for the poem, one 
          for each stanza. All are composites that I created in Adobe Photoshop, 
          and these are generally based on photographs of mine; indeed, all of 
          the slides include at least one photograph by me. In the slides for 
          stanzas 2, 5, and 8, when the "I" is mentioned, I included 
          a photo of the poet in the design, and I put him in the coach in stanza 
          11. The coach and rider in that same slide I took from an old print 
          in the Picture Collection of the New York Public Library, and the map 
          from another. The lovers in the slide for stanza 4 come from a copy 
          of a Japanese print, the dancer in the slide for stanza 3 derives from 
          yet another old print, both found in the same collection. 
        	I photographed the blackbirds for the most part 
          in Flagler Beach, FL, and the backgrounds of the slides for stanzas 
          2, 5, 9, and 12 in Florida swamplands around Gainesville, FL. The two 
          people in the slide for stanza 7 I caught at a Revoutionary War reenactment 
          in Kingston, NY. The autumn scene in the slide for stanza 3 is of Lake 
          Switzerland in Fleischmanns, NY; the mountains in the slide for stanza 
          1 and the tree in that for 13 are constructs that I created digitally 
          from a single entity in a dictionary or encyclopedia. 
         
        Nancy Bogen 
          
        Special	thanks 
          to the Music Division of NYSCA  
          for making the slide choreography 
          of Richard Brooks's Chorale Variations possible. 										  | 
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