Wall Art

I realized I have not posted any photos of Soho's and my no-longer new apartment.  Well, this is the wall in our living room.  Left to Right.  Top Row: a Beatrix Potter watercolor print; a watercolor of a hydrangea by my grandmother; a Rodin watercolor print, "Inspired Nesting" by Etsy seller Groundwork.  Second Row: a photograph of a girl with a bird on her head from the plains in the 20's; a photograph of mine of a Magnolia branch in Golden Gate Park; two prints of the Prague skyline (thanks Curry!), flanking a print of a Whistler etching; a Whistler nocturne; a watercolor by Soho's sister (with the blue mat), and below that a print of the Yorkshire dales.  Resting on the table is another watercolor by my grandmother of a set of Pittsburgh PA rowhouses.  The black vase on the red book is a raku by Jennifer Coffin, and the icon is an heirloom of Soho's.  Everything else is from yard sales and thrift stores, which is pretty awesome.  And the bookshel is Ikea's Expedit (best ever!), filled with my picture books and art books.

Market Baskets

A could weeks ago, I had a typical Maggie-in-the-city day.  (Oooh.  Maggie-in-the-City would be a good blog title.)  By that I mean, I had to go to several different events/locations in the course of one day, and never once be able to pop back home to change.  I went from Mass to errands in GTown to a bridal shower out in McLean.  I had to carry a gift for the shower (a book), an extra pair of shoes, a paella pan which was then switched with 5 champagne coupes, which I really didn't want to break.

Needless to say, finding a bag to carry all this comfortably and chicly is a difficult task.  Luckily for me, I have a beautiful straw market basket from Morocco--like the one picture above.  I can't tell you how wonderful and versatile these baskets are.  They are woven from rich golden straw, in a sturdy but flexible braid.  Their oblong shape allows you to fit all sorts of odd sizes packages inside.  And the long handle evenly distributes the weight, making it easy to carry for a long while.

I found mine in a shop in Napa, but they are available online: Brook Farm General Store has the standard double-handle variety (pictured), $40;  Olive and Branch has several variations, including the two handle one I have, $32.  Even Etsy has a few varieties (my favorites: 1, 2). I highly recommend the version with the long handle--it is by far the best and more versatile.

And they've been making the rounds in the blogsphere: Coco+Kelly and Design*Sponge both recently featured these bags.  But I'd like it to be noted that: I've carried these things for years. 

Blog of the Week: My Parents Were Awesome

As long as we're on the awesome parents theme, I thought I'd select this funny tumblr site as the Blog of the Week. My Parents Were Awesome has funny photos of our parents in their younger and perhaps more awesome phase.  I have to dig up some old photos of Mom and Dad to submit them!

 

Meeting Whistler's Mother

I think I mentioned, but now can't remember, that I was going to go to a truly remarkable exhibit at the DeYoung Museum in San Francisco, CA: The Birth of Impressionism: Masterpieces from the Musee D'Orsay.  I have a lot to say about this exhibit, and need to just sit down and write it all out, but today I just want to mention briefly that the sole American contribution to this exhibit was Whistler's masterpiece, Arrangement in Grey and Black (above).  The work, commonly referred to as "Whistler's Mother" is one of my all time favorite works of art.  I love everythingng Whistler ever touched, but Whilstler's Mother encourages the same sort of mystique and allure that I imagine most people feel about the Mona Lisa.  I find it captivating; but it is also so familiar that I've stopped being able to tell why I'm drawn to it. 

Anyway, when I saw it in person, I was taken by all the details.  The tonality of the wall and the floor, the detail of her lace, the etching hung on the wall.  The velvety depth of her black gown.  And the CURTAINS.  Oh, I looked at those curtains for a full 5 minutes, and am filing them away in my mind for a future home.  And aren't you just dying to know what she was thinking of as she sat there in the hands of a master?  It is so supremely balanced, but I can't tell if his gaze is detached and stoical, or lovingly precise.

Most thrilling of all, however, was that I got to see it with Mom and Dad.  It was a dream come true for Mom, as Whistler is her very favorite artist.

Thirty

L to R: Tetee, Uncle Jim, Mom, Dad, Gran

 

Happy Anniversay, Mom and Dad!  Here's something awesome for every year--something you taught me to love (in no particular order):

1) David Austin Roses ("Golden Celebration" pictured, left)

2) Bacon

3) Shakespeare, Moliere, Kauffman & Hart, Waiting for Godot.

4) J. W. Turner (below)

5) listening to Renaissance polyphony during Sunday brunch--as loudly as possible

6) civic engineering.  Seriously.  We used to talk for hours about SF construction.  It's fascinating.

7) naming cats well: eg, Yakko, Wakko and Dot; Ninja; La Bette Noir

8) travelling: Rome, London, Bath, Quebec, etc. etc. etc.

9) Looney Tunes (see a family favorite below)

10) Feast Days.  With lots of feasting.

11) Steeleye Span!

12) Brideshead Revisited

13) making jams

14) the Marx Brothers, the Blues Brothers, the Brothers Grimm...not to mention my own awesome brother.

15) California

16) and Pennyslvania

17) French comedies...and while we're at it, British comedies too.

18) Thurber's stories

19) Thurber's cartoons

20) Thurber's friends

21) always being adventurous in my cooking and eating.  Also, donuts.

22) My faith, my Church, it's Traditions, and Saints, and Pope.

23) oriental rugs

24) buying beautiful things, like oriental rugs with Christmas bonuses, and thereby adding to the quality of our lives and the beauty of our home, which is (perhaps oddly) more prudent than doing the practical thing and using the money for groceries.

25) staring the Sunday Morning paper with the Comics.
26) baseball in the afternoon
27) reading reading reading reading reading
28) (postponing all chores because I'm reading!)
29) the neo-Gothic...and the neo-Romanesque
30) family...HOME.

Looney Tunes- Bugs Bunny & Daffy Duck - Duck Amuck @ Yahoo! Video

Food Festivals in DC

 

This weekend has the best food festivals for the entire DC area.  And, alas, I don't think I'll be making it to any of them!

First, BBQDC is a fierce two-day battle of the barbecues, that takes place every year on Pennsylvania Ave.  Tickets at $10, and include a donation to the Boys and Girls Club of America. Yummmm.  (See picture, above)

Secondly, NOVA Summer Brew Fest in Leesburg, also lasts Saturday and Sunday.  This is the largest brew-fest in the Washington area, and focuses on American Craft Brews.  The $25 tickets include 4 sampling tickets and a commemorative pint glass. 

Finally, the Smithsonian Folklife Festival is this and next weekend, on the National Mall (photo, below).  The festival was a little dull last year, but the food was delicious.  This year's selections look rather enticing as well: Chicken and Basil in the Asian Foods pavilion, Bhelpuri, an Indian street food, awesome Mexican selections (we're not talking Chipotle burritos here!), and the requisite BBQ.  I'd say go, get some food, and then duck into one of the music pavilions, and just let yourself go.  You won't regret it.

The Illusionist by Jacques Tati

I want to see this so badly: L'Illusionniste.  Made by the creators of The Triplets of Belville, which I still haven't seen, it is the story of a magician.  The screenplay was written by the brilliant Jacques Tati, and it was filmed in Edinburgh Studios, and produced by the French studio, Pathé.  Alas, though Sony Pictures has agreed to carry the film, they have not yet set a release date.  (For more information, click here.)  (HT: DN)

If you haven't seen any of Jaques Tati's films, you really must.  They are brilliant, subtle, and hilarious meditations on tradition and modernity, and the joy of the everyday.  Summer is the perfect time to watch them, especially Mon Oncle and Playtime.  Here's a funny clip from Mon Oncle:

Jazz Love #13: Duets with Ella Fitzgerald

with Joe Pass


with Nat King Cole


with Sammy Davis Jr.

My Mother's Clothes

I know it was just Father's Day (and, oops, I didn't do anything.  Sorry, Dad!) but I had to share this really lovely book about a mother. My Mother's Clothes, written by Jeannette Montgomery Barron, a photographer and writer, it is a memoir through clothes.  As her mother was dying of Alzheimers, Ms. Barron would go through her closet and pull out every dress and suit and pin and bag, and the memories would pour out.  Ms. Barron took pictures of everything, and along with every beautiful item is a little story which shows, like a snapshot, a bit more of her mother's personality, presence and grace. 

It sounds like sentimental at best, but truly the book is lovely.  I can't wait to get my hands on a copy.

The Blues Brothers is a Catholic Film

 

I've now said it so many times it needs no introduction, but Blue Brothers is one of my favorite movies, and has been a family favorite since we were very little.  It actually was released 30 years ago this week, and became a family favorite because Mom and Dad were married 30 years ago next week, and watched it on their honeymoon.  They didn't even like SNL...

Well, the so called (though it isn't really) "Vatican Newspaper" L'Osservatore Romano has now added the brilliant Blues Brother's to their list of great Catholic films. 

Says the Telegraph:

Its approval of the 1980 film, starring John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd, is all the more surprising given some of the much-quoted lines from the film, including: "Curtis, I don't want to listen to no jive-ass preacher talking to me about Heaven and Hell." At one point in the film they are told: "Boys, you got to learn not to talk to nuns that way."

On the otherhand, the film shows a convent and ruler snapping nun who also happens to be the only family the Blues Brothers actually have.  Not to mention the fact that we're all on a mission from God.  Oh yeah, and while the film has tons of hilarious violence (in the form of car crashes), only two people in the entire film actually get hurt: the nazi's.  Which is pretty awesome.  (Also awesome.)

I have no idea what the film's creators are thinking about this distinction, but I sure hope Ray Charles and Jim Belushi are up in heave making some crazy blues music to celebrate.

HT:  Joe Carter, First Thoughts

Windmill Earrings

I've never been much of a post-earring person, but this are too lovely to be missed. 

$16 from MXM

Blog of the Week: It's Mary's Ruffle

I was recently accused of having a girly google reader feed.  It's true.  I post a lot about food, about homes, about clothes.  The fact is, I pop into my Google Reader throughout the day when I really can't take work anoymore, or need a quick breather.  And do I go and read the newest fascinating article in First Things, or whatever neat book-related link Maud Newton has posted?  No, I don't.  I save those for times when my mind is active.  Instead I look at pretty pictures.

That's where the Blog of the Week: It's Mary's Ruffle comes in.  A photo blog from tumblr, it has so many really lovely images, that I feel like glancing at it is like taking a deep breath and then, refreshed, I can turn back to my work.

Case in point:

Midsummer

My favorite quotes from a favorite play, for this, my favorite day of the summer:

Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a beard coming.
--Flute/Thisby

Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania.
--Oberon to is queen

A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing.
--Bottom

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet

Are of imagination all compact.
One sees more devils than vast hell can hold,
That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic,
Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt:
The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.
Such tricks hath strong imagination,
That if it would but apprehend some joy,
It comprehends some bringer of that joy;
Or in the night, imagining some fear,
How easy is a bush supposed a bear!
--Theseus

The best in this kind are but shadows, and the

worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.
--Theseus

(Side note: Theseus is a greatly underrated character in this play.  I think he might be my favorite.  And he certainly was my favorite part of the just ok film (1999), as played by David Strathairn.)

Larger Than Life

There's a Cary Grant Film Festival, Mondays, at the National Theatre, and 6:30 pm (free admission, tickets are first come first served).

As I wrote to Ms.M when she sent me this link: OH MY GOSH YES PLEASE.

The Golden Hour #8

(Photo by smata2)

 

First I saw the white bear, then I saw the black;
Then I saw the camel with a hump upon his back;
Then I saw the grey wolf, with mutton in his maw;
Then I saw the wombat waddle in the straw;
Then I saw the elephant a-waving of his trunk;
Then I saw the monkeys—mercy, how unpleasantly they smelt!

 --William Makepeace Thackeray

Animated Films on LLB

Work is crazy. No time for 10KP posts.  Meanwhile, check out LLB for a complete list of animated films, with all my favorites, and tons of pictures, including My Little Pony: The Movie, shown above.

(PS. Are you going to see Toy Story 3 this weekend?)

Miss Manners and Facebook

Oh Miss Manners...are you always right?  Here's here advice on giving the slip to would-be friends on Facebook:

Dear Miss Manners:


There are certain people in my life, as in all people's lives, whom I tolerate because I have to, but whom I don't trust at all. I am pleasant to them but do not seek out their company and do not confide my personal life to them. Cases in point: an ex-boss and a sibling, both of whose tendencies to lie, steal, cheat and manipulate in cold blood for personal gain make me think of them as sociopaths.

Now the world of Facebook has made it impossible to avoid them. Both have asked to "friend" me; both know that I have "friended" others whom we have in common.

The thought of their having access to details of my personal life, photos, thoughts, or even "friends" list gives me the creeps. On the other hand, blocking them while they know that I give others full access seems like a slap in the face and likely to cause more trouble between us. Other than dropping out of a very useful and enjoyable medium, what can I do?

Gentle Reader:

When, oh when, are people going to learn that the Internet is not a safe place to store private information?

No, not even with the various available restrictions. Have you never confided a secret to a friend and then complained bitterly because the friend was not more discreet than you, who couldn't keep your own secret?

And as you sense, refusing access is like saying, "Nyah, nyah, I have secrets, and you can't see them." Short of keeping your personal information to yourself, the best you can do is to ignore these appeals, hoping that they presume you just don't check that often. Considering the vehemence of your descriptions of them, they are unlikely to be surprised.

Online Jigsaw!

I love jigsaws.  And, I have to say, I've been looking for some really good jigsaw puzzles to work out, but I can't find any that are satisfying enough to dive into (they're all so cheesy!).  In the meantime, I'm loving this online Art Jigsaw Puzzle from Museum Syndicate.

Above is an unassembled Pieta.  Below is the almost assembled painting of a barn.  The only complaint I have about this, besides that I waste an awful lot of time on it, is that it doesn't let you sit back and enjoy your completed project--it switched immediately to the next puzzle.

Also, I shouldn't admit to this, but I almost always want to spell it puzzel.  How weird is that?

Jazz Love #12: Harry Connick Jr.

Tonight I am going to see Harry Connick Jr perform at Wolftrap.  I've seen him so many times I've lost count, and it is always a really good show, so I am super excited.  Obviously, he's a master showman.  I hope he sings this tonight...

UPDATED: Video fixed. Sorry about that...

Blog of the Week: Book Lovers Never Go To Bed Alone

I think I am going to start highlighting blogs in a once a week "Blog of the Week" category.  These will be random (as almost everything is on my blog)--some blog written by freinds and family, others by people I do not know but who share my obsessions. 

This week's blog falls in the latter category.  Perhaps the strongest sign that I am addicted to books is that I really really really really love a blog filled with pictures of books.  Book Lovers Never Go To Bed Alone, besides having an awesome title, is filled with photos of books and book lovers that are at times odd, charming, funny, satirical, exultent, and always literary. 

 

About Breakfast at Tiffany's

 

If' you're regular readers of this blog you know that I really love the book Breakfast at Tiffany's by Truman Capote.  I also happen to love the movie, though they are truly entirely different pieces of art.  Where the film shows a charming, glamorous, and, romantic heroine, the book shows a fierce, lost, fallen woman both beautiful and pitiful. 

This disparity between the book and the film has always fascinated.  (And by always, I mean, since I read the book in college.)  And part of this question is explored in a new monograph of the film, by Sam Wasson, Fifth Avenue, 5 A.M.  Sunday's review in the New York Times has me intrigued:

His book winds up as well-tailored as the kind of little black dress that “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” made famous. And, yes, there’s lots to say here about that dress’s widespread influence. Audiences used to brightly costumed homebodies and Doris Day-type career girls were in for a big, chic, liberating surprise when Holly and her elegant simplicity came along.

Since she looked so smashing, why was Paramount issuing statements like this: “The star is Audrey Hepburn, not Tawdry Hepburn”? Because the studio was petrified, and its confused, hamstrung public statements reflected that alarm. “Let’s face it, now: what is a kook?” one such document inquired. A kook was a headache, especially when embodied by a girlish star who was understood to be demure no matter how much her movie character’s behavior indicated otherwise.

I'm not sure how fascinating a monograph about a film will be, but I am interested.  The film cleans up the book, but in doing so it drastically changes it.  Was it worth it?  Why did they make the decisions they did, and, if the book was so controversial, why did they make the movie in the first place.  The review also has an excerpt from the book, which will be my commute reading this evening...then I guess I'll know if I want to keep reading.

P.S. Do any of my male readers actually like this film?  I'm really curious.

Farmer's Market: Peas!

The Golden Hour #7

The most beautiful and most profound motion we can experience

is the senesation of the mystical. it is the source of all true art

and science. He to whom this emotion is strange, who can no

longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe is as good as dead. His eyes are closed.

--Albert Einstein

1610: A Very Good Year

Miranda, by Waterhouse

Tonight I am going to see Sir Derek Jacobi, one of the greatest living actors, perform in a “concert” version of Shakespeare’s Tempest. I’m not entirely sure what a “concert version” means, but I don’t really care—I am so excited to be seeing Derek Jacobi. (As I’ve said before, this is a year for meeting/seeing idols.) Also performing are Lynn Redgrave and the Folger Consort.

I usually jump back and forth between The Tempest and The Winter's Tale as my favorite of the late romances (though Pericles is terribly underrated and very wonderful).  I do love the innocence and eagerness of Miranda (above).  "Oh brave new world..."  The Tempest was written in 1610.  Which means it is the 400th anniversary of that great play (and in 6 years we'll be coming upon the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's death). 

1610 was A Very Good Year.  700 miles to the south, in 1610, Monteverdi wrote the most magnificent piece of music ever composed: Vespro della Beata Vergine.  I've known this piece my entire life, and never tire of hearing it.  Indeed, I wrote my Music History paper on it, and listened to it for basically one whole week straight (even playing the CD on repeat through the night).  Ok, so I am a little obsessed.  But it is worth all the time in the world.  The best piece is his motet Duo Seraphim, which I have embedded below (it is ia fine recording, though not the best).

Unfortunately, no one in Washington has seen fit to perform this glorious, though demanding piece.  And, as far as I can tell, this is the only Washington production of The Tempest for this year. I am surprised that there are not more revivals of both The Tempest and 1610 Vespers.  These two  masterpieces, written amid a changing age, stand as pillars of grace, beauty, inspiration and wisdom.  Such anniversaries should not be taken lightly.

Mare Island

Map of Mare Island Straits, circa 1857

The Edge of Paradise

The weather has been glorious here in California.  In fact, as I write this (sunday evening) the setting sun, still an hour and a half from the horizon is streaming into the den, shining on my face.  I just spent the last hour lying on a short wicker sofa on the front porch, reading (The Children's Book by A.S.Byatt).  Before that I had stood in the sunshine in front of church for a good 30 minutes, and sat in the sunshine in a friend's backyard during a savory, festive brunch.  I am catching as much Vitamin D as I possibly can.  But I have the deep seated, though almost certainly false, idea that this sun in California is full of much more than vitamins.  I'm going to soak up as much of it as possible, so that it may work its magic on me.

Though I grew up in the Napa Valley, on the shoulder of Mt. Veeder, my parents now live on a long thin island in the northernmost tip of the bay.  We are a mere 30 feet above sea level, on the westernmost street of inhabitable land.  The island continues west for several miles of non-tidal marshland, gated off by chain link fences and the threat of coyotes.  Neither of these things scare me in the daylight, and, if I had proper shoes, I'd sally forth to explore.

With only sparkly, magenta flip-flops, I decided to take on a gentler challenge: the hill at the end of our street.  It is about 40 feet tall, almost straight up, and covered in tall golden grass, brambles and the occasional scotch broom.  I managed to scale it without getting brambles in between my toes. (I was so cautious of brambles when I was a little kid.  It is good to grow out of some things certainly.)

From the top of the hill I could see, west, Mt. Tamalpias, and her sisters, who make up the small, old Pacific Coast range.  Though the sun was warm, I was chilled by the unruly wind that whipped around me after crossing 40 miles of wide open watery expanse.  The wind came from a dark but luminous bank of fog, that hid the tops of the mountains.  Though it was lit up by the afternoon sun, it threatened my sunny contentment.

There is nothing like this beauty in any other place I have lived or visited.  The Bay is totally developed and, where possible, inhabited--and yet there are huge portions of land that are wild, untamed, and awesome.  There are many scenes of beauty in Washington and I often stop to drink them in. But they seem entirely manufactured compared to the scene spread out before me.  I felt as if I were on the edge of Paradise (though I am not sure if I was in it looking out or out looking in).  I felt as if this scene was the metaphor for the Christian life: our craft, culture, and civilization, in perfect balance with the immediate beauty of Creation--but only for an instant, giving us the strength and inspiration to continue onward and upward and home.

Daily City's Little Boxes

 

I used to torture my friends with this song on the playground. But I never knew the whole song. It's about Daly City, California (above)...

The Golden Hour #6

“Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician

ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration.”

--Charles Dickens  (Photo source)

Akira Kurosawa's RAN in Washington

 

You've heard me speak before about Akira Kurosawa's masterpiece Ran--a retelling of King Lear set in medival Japan.  It is one of my very favorite films--not to mention my favorite adaptation of a Shakespeare play without the actual Shakspearean text. 

Well Washington's Landmark E Street Cinema is showing for one week only a newly restored 35mm print--starting tonight. (I'll be going when I get back from California!)  For showtimes and tickets click here.

When it was originally produced it was the most expensive film ever to be made in Japan.  Kurosawa masterfully presents Mediaval Japan, the fueling of honored sons, and the utter despair of a pagan Lear.  Watching this film made me first come to some understanding of the original Lear as actually hopeful and redemptive. I wouldn't miss seeing it on the big screen for the world!

California is the World

Hello from California!  Also known as THE CENTER OF THE WORLD.  Ok, ok.  It's not exactly as hubristic as you might think.  (By the way: this blog, Strange Maps, is awesome, and you all should read it.  Every day.)

Jazz Love #11 You're Just In Love

 
A lovely jazzy duet between old friends Sarah Vaughn and Billy Eckstine, "You're Just In Love" by Irving Berlin starts slow, but then just jumps.  Then, when both verses are sung together in counter-point (I love counter-point!), it's really delightful:

I hear singing and there's no one there
I smell blossoms and the trees are bare
All day long I seem to walk on air
I wonder why, I wonder why?
I keep tossing in my sleep at night
And what's more, I've lost my appetite
Stars that used to twinkle in the skies
Are twinkling in my eyes, I wonder why?

You don't need analyzin'
It is not so surprisin'
That you feel very strange but nice
Your heart goes pitter-patter
I know just what's the matter
Because I've been there once or twice
Put your head on my shoulder
You need someone who's older
A rub down with a velvet glove
There is nothing you can take
To relieve that pleasant ache
You're not sick, you're just in love!

Sistine Chapel

visit this link. be amazed.