Greetings, meetings and music

As you can see, I'm getting ready for the Festive Season. It's great, isn't it, that lots of different religions have festivities at this time? Solstice, turning of the year, end of fasting, return of the light, etc. There's more in January, too.

Alice gave me my very own tree to decorate, but I'm not sure about where to put that lovely bauble... Forgive me for reminding you, but you can click on any photo to see them all a larger size, or open individually in a new tab for glorious full size.

We've posted these greetings now, but you'll see we haven't quite finished the topics below. Come back later, please. Meanwhile, enjoy some festive goodies, like mulled wine; cherry liqueur chocs (Alice's favourites); ham and eggs; haggis, neaps and tatties; or whatever tickles your fancy.  [ Tickles? There you go again - humans!]

Meetings with Masters 1: Yoda

Yoda, of course, is a Master of The Force, who taught many warriors in his 900 years of life. I was privileged to meet with this avatar of him. (And no, I don't mean as in the film Avatar!) I especially liked the way he says, Judge me by my size do you? Size matters not. Gave me a whole new outlook. He was about to go and live with an enthusiastic little boy (Toby, to you) but paid us a visit first, and gave me some training.

It's really tiring keeping the Force going for long enough to make one's light-sabre stay bright. Yoda did give me constant encouragement. Do, or do not, he said. There is no try. But I'm afraid I'll never make it to full Jedi Knight standard, however hard I practise. Sigh.

Well, as Tyrion says, My brother has his sword, and I have my mind. And a mind needs books like a sword needs a whetstone. That's why I read so much. No wonder he's our favourite character in Game of Thrones. Peter Dinklage is a terrifically good actor - and so sexy too. OK, OK, digression over.

So, I must get Alice to let us watch those Star Wars DVDs again. I mean the ones called Episode IV, V and VI. We purists aren't into the "subsequent prequels" I, II and III. Get your head round that illogicality, if you can! Oooh, that opening "crawl". Love it.

Did you know there's actually a Jedi religion? People even enter it on census forms. They say it's just as much a faith as Scientology. Which leads us to -

Meetings with Masters 2: The Master (the film)

Oh dear! I'm afraid Alice seems to be coming down with a nasty cough and cold (we do hope it isn't the ghastly 'flue, since she had her jag in good time this year) and doesn't really feel up to completing this entry on Meeting with Masters and Music. If only I could type it myself... It's all here in my head!

So please excuse us for now, and look again after Christmas.

Enjoy yourselves if you can - whatever you end up doing.

Art: the Pre-Raphaelites (2)

This is the second half of our blog post about the Pre-Raphaelite exhibition we saw at Tate Britain when we went Down South recently. To read the first part, scroll down to Art: the Pre-Raphaelites (1). For the visit, scroll further down to Down South. Or go to BLOG ARCHIVE: (it's above on the right) 2012, December, and find the heading.

There weren't just paintings. There were other art-works, such as this lovely stained-glass musical angel by Edward Burne-Jones. If you look him up, you'll find he did a lot of angels. Well, they are lovely creatures, real or not, aren't they?

There was even a bed! It belonged to William Morris, the designer and craftsman, who created all those flowery textiles you can still buy. The hangings and pelmet were designed by his daughter, May. She was obviously into embroidery, which must need more patience than I've got - even if I had the fingers for it.

I bet it would be cozy in the winter when you pulled the curtains round. I wanted to try it out and take a snooze - it's very tiring taking in so much sumptuous beauty - but I'm sorry to say you weren't allowed to.

There was also this amazing piece of furniture, King Rene's Honeymoon Cabinet, richly decorated by several different artists. It wasn't a royal wedding present as I'd thought, but an architect's desk designed by John Pollard Seddon, in 1861 for himself. I wonder what he kept in it? King René of Anjou lived back in the 15th century, was a great patron of the arts, and apparently spent his honeymoon devoted to art! Walter Scott included it in his novel Anne of Geierstein, or The Maiden of the Mist. Sounds very romantic, but Alice hadn't read it.

The four images were repeated in a stained-glass panel.

Here's the musical one, again but different. You'll have to click on it to see the detail, as with all the images on this blog. Big ones look even better if you open them in a new tab. Yes, I know I keep saying that! But someone reading here might be new to this lark, and not realise.

Furniture takes us into Alice's favourite item in the exhibition. No, it wasn't actually this "Egyptian" chair, by William Holman Hunt, although it does look pretty and pretty comfortable, too, and was really there in the gallery. It was the magnificent portrait hanging beside it.

The subject is actually sitting in that very same chair. The painting is called Il Dolce Far Niente, which means "It's lovely to do nothing." Yes, it certainly is: Alice should do it more often.

It seems that the original model was his previous fiancée Annie Miller. When she left him he abandonned the picture for ages. Much later he re-painted the face with that of his new wife, Fanny Waugh. Did you ever... [Ever what exactly? Another of those silly truncated human expressions.]

Fanny tragically died in childbirth. Hunt later married her sister, Edith, which wasn't allowed in those days, so they had to live abroad. Deary me.
They had two more children, so I guess it turned out alright for him in the end.

My favourite painting was also by Hunt. It's his rendition of The Lady of Shalott, with her mirror onto the world behind her. I think it must be the exact moment when she impetuously looked out at the real Sir Lancelot, so that she got all tangled up in her weaving and broke the magical protection. He vividly captures that dramatic movement with her hair spinning out wildly all over the place. Aaah.

       She left the web, she left the loom,
      She made three paces through the room,
      She saw the water-lily bloom,
      She saw the helmet and the plume,
          She look'd down to Camelot.
      Out flew the web and floated wide;
      The mirror crack'd from side to side;
      "The curse is come upon me," cried
          The Lady of Shalott.

That's from Tennyson's poem of the same name, which was often illustrated by various artists.

There's another interesting blog review of the exhibition with lots of pictures, as well. Kirsty Walker mentions that John William Waterhouse is an artist missed out by the Tate, much to her disappointment. He did another famous Lady of Shalott painting, with her setting off to Camelot in her barge.

Tennyson's tale is based on the story of Elaine of Astolat, who died of unrequited love for Lancelot. Alice has just burst out with,
      "Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love."
It's Rosalind, being realistic, in Shakespeare's As You Like It. Yes, dear, quite.

According to Arthurian legend, Lancelot was a right old heart-throb of a knight, in love with his king's wife, Guinevere.

In 1981 there was a gloriously kitch John Boorman film about the tragic threesome, Excalibur, with  a younger Helen Mirren as Morgana and Nicol Williamson playing a wonderfully eccentric Merlin. Alice loves it, even though (or because) it's so O.T.T.

The poem was also made into a song by the sweet-voiced Loreena McKennitt. A very good note to end on. Perhaps you will squirm at my love of puns. Never mind, it keeps me happy.

Art: the Pre-Raphaelites (1)

 Well, we left you at the doors of Tate Britain, as it were, about to enter this exhibition. The Guardian gave it quite a lengthy review. Alice has been in a fever of image hunting, editing and Googling-up references for our account. I'm sure most of you would be quite happy with a selection of nice pictures and just a few words - but there's no stopping her once she gets going... So, forgive the delay.

Alice's earliest memory of learning more about the Pre-Raphaelites, was seeing a very sexy, gory, and compelling 1967 BBC film directed by the infamous Ken Russell and starring Oliver Reed, called Dante's Inferno. The eponymous [I do like these erudite words!] Dante being not the ancient Italian poet, who wrote about true love and the Circles of Hell, but Dante Gabrielle Rossetti, the poet, painter and one of the founders of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, with Holman Hunt and Millais.

Whew! What a lot of links... But they're not obligatory. Alice just likes finding them.

I expect most of you will be familiar with Millais' famous painting of Ophelia. [Click on any image to see it larger, or better still, open in a new tab.] Shakespeare's Ophelia is a really tragic case, isn't she?

Did you know, though, that the details of the scene were copied from nature, but Ophelia herself was modelled on poor Elizabeth Siddal, who lay in a bath for four months? That didn't help her health at all. She miscarried Rossetti's baby, and died of a laudanum overdose, most probably suicide. It was a drug so easy to get hold of then, that a lot of Victorians became addicts.

We couldn't find out who took this photo of Lizzie. Alice likes to imagine it was Julia Margaret Cameron, because she was a woman who took lots of photographs, including some of Alice Liddell. Wish on, dear...

The Pre-Raphaelites seemed to have had a penchant for luscious ladies with red, pouty lips, and there were indeed a great many of those in the exhibition.

There was a perfectly stunning young man, however.

This Bacchus, the god of drunkenness and general dissipation, by Simeon Solomon was beautiful.

I especially liked all the little cracks in the paint, even if Alice did say that was silly, as the original wouldn't have had any. But it reminded me how old the artefact actually was: 1867 - awesome.

There were lots of paintings with religious themes, including this famous (but rather ghastly) Scapegoat by Hunt. Apparently he went all the way to the Holy Land - no mean feat in those days -  to get the authentic background. And he seemed to have found a goat that was dying. You wouldn't be allowed to do that in a film today. [You simply must follow that last link. It's priceless! Then click the headings and watch carefully, too.]

Alice explained that a "scapegoat" is supposed to take on the sins of the community, and be punished for them. Needn't be a goat, could be a "cutty wren", even.  Sounds nutty to me, but religious people believe that Christ did that for everyone. It's called vicarious atonement. Rather a nasty sort of god who's that vindictive, I reckon. Alice is nodding.

Rossetti's Annunciation was more to my taste. Mary looks kind of scared, but she would be, wouldn't she? It's not that often a real androgynous angel appears in your bedroom. I like the way its flaming feet are floating just above the floor, with what looks like flaming shadows. [Click to enlarge]

Alice's favourite angel story is the one in Wim Wender's marvellous Wings of Desire.  It makes superb use of changes between black-and-white while the angel is in heaven, and colour when he "falls" to earth to experience the joy of human senses. They remade it as City of Angels with Nicolas Cage and his terribly mournful eyes, but it just didn't have the same subtlety.

We're going to pause here, and finish our musings on the Pre-Raphaelites another time. So do come back.

Down South (and Argo)

 

Down South
What a great journey! I had a reserved seat all the way to London King's Cross. It was the East Coast line so we had some super views - of, ummm, the East coast.

This is Berwick upon Tweed, with its picturesque bridges. We're on the Royal Border Bridge, designed by Robert Stephenson (of the Rocket steam-engine fame) and built way back between 1847 and 1850. And the trains still cross it.

Where's the exact line between Scotland and England, I wondered? Berwick itself has been in both countries at different times. If we get Independence, will we have to show our passports (Scottish ones? Euro ones?) before the train can journey on? Do we want it, or not, after all?

More pretty coast...

Once in London, we went straight on to see our friend Pippa the cat (and owner) near Winchester.

Next day we visited Ikea in Southampton, bought some fancy ice-cube trays and a jolly red dish brush; then ate in their restaurant. Behind me you can see the bright lights where we went to the cinema: the full works, sweeties and all.

We saw Argo. What a really great film! It's based on an almost unbelievable true story (Spoilers in this link) only recently de-Classified by the CIA. Argo is a fake sci-fi film within the film. Here's real fake info from the real story. (Click to see larger.)

No, it's not the Red King dreaming again. Alice has turned up a very philosphical note on him - again. Far too mind-bending for a simple soul like me.

The even more geeky article discussed in the link is here, not at the link in the link... Oh, stop it!!

Argo (the real 2012 film by multi-talented Ben Affleck!) managed to be both extremely funny, especially near the start, and also very exciting indeed, the nearer you got to the end.

Alice loved the excellent cinematography as well, but I was far too full of tension to notice such niceties.

Do go and see it!

The following day it was back to London Waterloo, and a walk across the Vauxhall Bridge.

There are four figures on each side of the bridge: apparently this one represents Local Government. I think she's far too graceful for that...

Once over the bridge, you can see some impressive London architecture. But our real destination was the Tate Britain Gallery.

We'd come to wonder at the gorgeous Pre-Raphaelites exhibition. But that's worth a whole blog post in itself. So we'll leave this one for now.

Come back later and read all about it...

Catching Up: Doing Art 5

Lusieri
We probably wouldn't have gone to this exhibition at all, if Alice hadn't got that aforementioned Friends membership. It had a very lengthy and slightly offputting title: Expanding Horizons: Giovanni Battista Lusieri and the Panoramic Landscape. But since it was in effect free, we went along anyway, and were pleasantly surprised. Which just goes to show!

Hirst's For the love of God!

Alice says I have to clarify what it shows. It shows, ummm, you should always give Arty Things a go, whenever you can. After all, even Damien Hirst, of notorious fame, proved to be much more interesting to us than most of our aquaintances led us to expect. Maybe we should write that up retrospectively. One day.

Did you notice, by the way, that Lusierei has the same first two names as Piranesi, whom we covered in the previous post! Alice thought she'd made some bizarre mistake at first, til she checked it out. Most odd. Call your child "Giovanni Battista" and he'll turn out to be a famous artist? Just try it out on Google, and you'll be pretty surprised!

Bay of Naples (detail)

Well, I'm not a great fan of landscape paintings - I'd rather go and see it, or a good photograph, or a film which features the place. But Alice reminded me that photography and movies are a relatively modern invention. So Lusierei's meticulously created pictures (mostly in pen, ink and watercolour) need to be viewed in that light. I thought this Naples panorama was really interesting because you could see the joins where he'd put six whole sheets of paper together. It was simply huge. And full of lots of detailed figures and boats.

View of Rome

His trees were likewise incredibly realistic. You can't fault his skill, even if you're not so keen on the results.

There was a delightful quote from the travel journal of Sir William Forbes of Pitsligo, in 1793.

Altho' we had made a resolution ... not to purchase either Painting or Antique, as being an expense of which there is no end, I thought I might indulge myself ... [in one of Lusieri's Mount Vesuvius eruption pictures] taken from his windows at Pausilippo. How else could such a monumental event have been recored back then?

Reassuring to note, too, that even over 200 years ago, tourists had trouble keeping their resolutions about not spending too much on souvenirs!

What we found particularly interesting was to learn that Lusieri led Lord Elgin's team of draftsmen, sculptors, and architects in Greece and Turkey. Thomas Bruce, 7th Earl of Elgin, of course, is famed for having taken the Elgin Marbles away from the Parthenon. And Lusieri took part in cataloguing and packing them up! They're now in the British Museum. It's still much debated whether they were "rescued" from decay or "stolen" from their rightful owners.

This painting  of Lusieri's shows a "double urn" they found in a tomb near Athens. See details about it by the (English) National Gallery.

The bronze inner vase contained some burnt bones and a sprig of myrtle made of gold. And the exhibition also included the original urn and the sprig (borrowed from the British Museum) for us to compare. Wow, I say. The gold was so wonderfully bright and beautiful.

Don't forget to click on the images to see them larger. The biggest ones (only in some posts) display even better if you right click and open them in a new tab.