Picasso's "Harlequin" and Eddie Redmayne

A handful of days ago, I became familiar with Picasso's "Harlequin Leaning" (1901), and I've left an image of it open on my browser so I could look at it periodically. The affected gesture of the two fingers raised up to the cheek is so amusing to me. It reminds me a little bit of something that the Scarlet Pimpernel would do, or an exaggerated gesture that my former student Chris J would do for comedic effect. (I remember attending a tour that Chris J led at the Frye probably about ten years ago, and he raised his palm to his hand and said "Woe is me!" to describe the emotional state of Bouguereau's shepherdess, and it was so amusing that it stuck with me, so I guess that is where the association with him and harlequin's gesture is coming from.)

But then today I saw this video clip of Eddie Redmayne promoting his Cabaret Broadway production on the Jimmy Fallon show, and his affected gestures and hunched-over posture (particularly at 8:14) remind me of this painting too. So now I like this painting for another reason, because of makes me think of Eddie Redmayne and his endearingly gangly and charming self.

Reading Outside

I had this painting by a Swedish artist, Johan Krouthén, saved on my phone lockscreen for the past month. I like the thought of reading outside with my friends in the middle of a forest.

Johan Krouthén, "Three Reading Woman in a Summer Landscape," 1908 (see high-res image)

Outdoor Scenes and Caring for Grandma

About two weeks ago, my grandma woke up and found that she didn't have the strength to stand up on her own. My extended family members - especially my two aunts - have been working hard to figure out solutions to help ensure that Grandma gets the care she needs (and also finding care that can fits within Grandma's financial means). These past two weeks have made me think a lot about caring for the elderly, those who are infirm, and also the things that I want to do to prepare for when I'm older. I hope I will be able to maintain my independence in the years to come, both physically and financially.

These paintings make it seem so lovely and peaceful to care for someone who is old or infirm. I don't think I'll spend much time outdoors when I see my grandma next, but I like these romanticized views nonetheless:

Vasily Polenov, "Grandmother's Garden," 1879. (High-res image)

John Lavery, "Convalescence in the Apple Orchard," 1885

Bio for the WMS

 I have been voted in as a new board member for the William Morris Society in the United States, and my responsibilities will truly start up in about February. I'm humbled and surprised that I would be invited to join the board, especially since I don't consider myself any type of expert in William Morris at all. But I am a fan of his work, so if that is the only true marker for membership (or board participation), then I'm glad to belong. The people I have met have been very warm and welcoming, and I hope this is a place where I can learn and make contributions to a community.

As an incoming board member, I was asked to write a bio for the upcoming newsletter. This is what I wrote:

While I’m certain that I will never achieve as much as William Morris completed during his lifetime, I feel a kinship with him in that we both abhor “a disease called idleness” that is mentioned in News from Nowhere. I am a person who likes to be busy. Much of my time is spent teaching art history courses at Seattle University or engaged elsewhere in the community. In the pre-pandemic days, I sang in the chorale of the Seattle Symphony and I volunteered as the Permanent Collection Training Chair for docents at the Seattle Art Museum. I look forward to being able to fully participate in those activities again. Lately, in these quieter moments at home, I find meaningful work in writing projects, helping my daughter decorate her dollhouse, stitching up rips in doll clothes, and teaching my son how to play the piano. On the sunnier days in Seattle, I spend time gardening in my flower bed and studying the birds that fly into my yard. The more I learn about William Morris, I feel like he would appreciate and understand the ways that I choose to spend my time.

Due to my mother’s niche interest in interior design, I grew up in a house in which every room was decorated with wallpaper that evoked popular styles of the 18th and 19th centuries. When I was in college, my mother introduced me to the Pre-Raphaelites, specifically William Holman Hunt. My curiosity was piqued, and I spent some time studying the Pre-Raphaelites, their broader circle, and Victorian art as part of my undergraduate studies in art history. I have continued to do so since that point, as a way to feel connected with my mom after she passed away. But, like William Morris, I have focused my attention and energy on several areas of art and world history. My graduate work in art history focused on colonialism and representations of art that involved political statements against African slavery and racism.

In recent years, my interest in the paintings of Kehinde Wiley have connected my interests in politics, race, and Victorian art. As a contemporary painter, Wiley creates monumental portraits of Black figures who are juxtaposed against decorative backgrounds that often are inspired by the Morrisian designs. These paintings are intended to raise awareness of the inequality and inequity that Black people have experienced; Wiley chooses portraiture as a starting point since historically Black people have not been celebrated as primary figures in Western portraits. I am drawn to Wiley’s paintings because he adopts European compositions and expensive Arts & Crafts wallpaper designs for his paintings, which are relatable to me given my own background and studies. My hope is that these relatable elements also help me, as a White woman, to better understand Wiley’s statements about what the Black experience is like.

It is through my writings on Kehinde Wiley that I became familiar with the William Morris Society in the United States back in 2018. And since becoming associated with this group, I feel like this is a place where I am meant to be! I’m currently interested in exploring William Morris’s artistic production and political ideologies, as well as those of May Morris, within the 19th-century framework of class, race, and the suffrage movement.

"Decorating the Christmas Tree" and Handel

Marcel Reider, Decorating the Christmas Tree, 1898 (Private collection)

I saw this painting on Twitter today and thought it was a lovely combination of a 19th-century domestic scene with a subtle nod to Baroque lighting. The warmth of the light and the colors reminded me a little bit of Paul Peel's After the Bath.

I like looking at this painting and thinking about how decorating the tree can be a quiet event. This has been a busy month and far from quiet! But the noise that has happened has been happy, even lovely and inspiring, noise. Yesterday I finished the fourth (and final) performance of Handel's "Messiah" with the symphony chorale, and it truly was a delight to perform. Our guest conductor, Matthew Halls, was fantastic. I thought he had such a charged and energetic interpretation of the Messiah, and really worked hard with the chorus and orchestra to bring the text to life through music. Our performances had the right focus on Baroque drama and conveying the narrative of the oratorio. Today I tried to listen to the Overture on a Spotify recording (not our symphony) and I realized that it sounded much to staid and serious in contrast to the energy of our recent performances. (And while we received a favorable review in the Seattle Times, there was a mixed review of Halls's interpretation of the Messiah by a Canadian music critic in 2017.)

I don't have a recording of our performance, but here is one that Matthew Halls conducted with another symphony:

Some Current Art Favorites and Thoughts on Jackie Kennedy

I'm cleaning out my desktop while I wait at the airport for a flight. Before I organize these beautiful works of art into oblivion, I want to make sure I highlight them so I can remember:

Sarah Paxton Ball Dodson, "Butterflies," 1891

Mary Cassatt, "Lilacs in Window," 1883

This painting and the lilacs remind me of my mom

Gustave-Leonard de Jonghe, "First Born," 1863

This painting reminds me of when I went to meet my niece Mabel, the first child born to one of my siblings. I would be the lady in the yellow traveling clothes, and V is the mom in white

Tissot, "Reading a Story," c. 1897

Some of the most quiet moments I have with Lucy are when we are reading a story together. This curly-haired blonde girl reminds me of her

Gari Melchers, "The Communicant," c. 1900

  

Evelyn de Morgan, "Night and Sleep," 1878

Evelyn de Morgan, "Clytie," 1878

Whistler, "The Artist in His Studio," 1865-66

 Caillebotte, "Woman at a Dressing Table," c. 1873

Frederick Sandys, "Whitlingham, Norfolk," 1860

I grew to really like Frederick Sandys's art this summer, while giving tours about his paintings "Morgan le Fay" and "Medea"

Charles Robert Leslie, "Queen Victoria in Her Coronation Robes," 1838

Winslow Homer, "Waiting for Dad (Longing)," 1873

The photograph below and the Homer painting above have been saved on my desktop, right next to each other. I've thought lately about how their compositions are similar in some ways, with the straight horizon line of the sea. I guess I'm really drawn to the same aesthetic Something resonates with me in both subjects, too: solitude and playfulness. The photograph particularly reminds me of my mom (with her own short dark hair) and her investment in her kids. I adore this composition, particularly the curve of Caroline's tummy, her round legs, and how she has one foot just peek over the horizon line. 

Mark Shaw Kennedy, "Jackie Swings Caroline in the Shallows of Hyannis Port," 1959

Yesterday, by coincidence, Lucy the book, "Just Being Jackie" by Megan Cardillo. It's a delightful book and I really like the illustrations, too. I've realized how much I truly admire Jackie Kennedy and all that she did, in her pursuit of her career, her dedication to her children, and her desire to preserve historical buildings and monuments (and I already had an inkling of this latter point before, since I am familiar with her involvement in saving Egyptian temples). 

Having worked recently to restore an heirloom dollhouse this past summer, I am now anxious to see what Jackie Kennedy did on a greater scale with her restoration of the White House. I hope to watch "A Tour of the White House with Mrs. John F. Kennedy" (the 1962 documentary) soon. I'm saving a clip below as a starter, but I need to track down the whole documentary:

Heirloom Dollhouse Restoration

This past summer has been good for me, especially because I was able to focus my mind on new ideas and get involved in creative projects that are outside of my norm. I also decided to take a break from Instagram in August, and it has been nice to focus on my own thoughts instead of being inundated with the thoughts and activities of others. One of the things that I especially enjoyed doing was restoring an old Victorian-style dollhouse. I loved getting a chance to be creative with my hands and mind, and get to see a tangible manifestation of my work.

This dollhouse belonged to my Aunt Bee; it was given to her when she was a little girl. When we went down to Portland in August (not only to see the Wa-Fol family's new house, but also to see Mount Hood and the Enchanted Forest), Aunt Bee gave us this dollhouse to take home, so it could be enjoyed by Lucy but still stay within the family as an heirloom. Grandpa Theron made this dollhouse for my aunt when she was a little girl; he build the dollhouse in my great-aunt Vera's garage. It was painted bright yellow when my aunt was a little girl, and then later in the 1990s it was painted brown when my C cousins played with it.

I didn't take a picture of the exterior when we got it, but the exterior walls and trim were painted different shades of brown, and the shingles were unpainted. The interior walls had a few pieces of contact paper for wallpaper, and there were a few old pieces of felt for carpet.

Lucy wanted to change the color of the dollhouse, and I obliged. I tried to get her to choose the original yellow color, but she was fixated on a bubble-gum pink color. I was, at the very least, able to convince her to choose something that was more terracotta and have some blue and white accents for contrast. Lucy helped paint some of the exterior, too, which she enjoyed.

Some of the brown trim is visible in this picture, as well as some of the missing trim and broken veranda railing. The doors leading out to this porch also were missing. Aunt Bee still had the railing on hand, and J and I were able to carve new trim pieces.

Almost done! It is still missing part of the the gable trim and screen doors

We worked simultaneously on the exterior and the interior. I carved out a new piece for the gable trim that was missing on the left side, new trim for the Mansart roof circular window and the arched window in the tower. J made a new door with an oval-shaped window to match the front door. We found screen doors with oval-shaped designs for the veranda, and cut them to fit. I even found replacement "glass" for the windows by using the plastic container of a stationery box. Here is the completed exterior:

J helped me cut some of the wallpaper for the trickiest rooms (the downstairs dining area with the staircase, as well as the bathroom with the angled ceiling), but I did a lot of it on my own. Sam and Lucy were content to spend a lot of time playing together, and when they were distracted I would run down to the basement to cut more wallpaper. I got the wallpaper from the scrapbook paper sections of Joann's and Michaels, and even the floors are made with scrapbook paper.

The floor and mirror are the two things which came with the dollhouse, at least when Aunt Bee gave it to us.

Look at the tiny radiator! We got this in a $5 grab bag from the Miniatures and More store in Edmonds. We also bought the bathroom fixtures there too.

 This is a tiny miniature painting of one of Degas' ballerina scenes

This is the art room - the dolls have a tiny easel for painting

These two paintings are of a Cezanne still life and Monet's "Woman with a Parasol - Madame Monet and Her Son"

 The main entry with a peek-a-boo Lucy!

This wallpaper is as close to a William Morris design as I could find!

Lucy has all of her special stones and "gems" in this treasure box. Lucy once imagined that the dolls used it for collateral to make some kind of bargain with their neighbors. The little roundel on the wall is cut from the packaging of one of the dolls of the Strawberry Shortcake series. I had a Strawberry Shortcake in this same design when I was a little girl, and it has been so fun for Lucy to get to play with these same dolls. I'm sure they were re-released recently so that mothers like me (who played with these dolls as a child) could buy them for their own kids.

 The attic! I left this room unpainted, which seemed fitting for an attic. We got the little presents for free from Miniatures and More, and the tiny crocheted rug was a gift to me from Lee Peterson, the pianist of my old choir. The only thing that I haven't been able to find is a ladder in the right dimensions to reach up to the attic. I may need to make one. Ant Bee said that she used to pretend like her dolls were orphans when they were up in the attic. 

Lucy and I have been fun playing with this dollhouse together. I hope she gets to enjoy it for many years to come. Maybe we will be able to share it with another cousin so that this dollhouse continues to stay in the family. Or maybe Lucy will want to keep it, in case one day she has a child of her own.

Paintings of Dresses and Fabrics

Several weeks ago I came across a post on Instagram about Viktor Schramm's paintings of fabric. About this same time, I was watching the second season of "Victoria" (with Jenna Coleman), and I by looking at those costumes (see HERE, HERE, and HERE) I was struck with how well Schramm was able to capture the shimmery and even iridescent quality of the fabrics from the late 19th and early 20th century.

Viktor Schramm,  Bei der Anprobe (The Fitting), 1900

Viktor Schramm, "Preparing for the Ball," c. 1900

Here are some other paintings of fabulous fabrics. The fluidity of the brushstrokes really emphasize how the fabric is silky smooth:

Edmund Hodgson Smart, "Dawn," 1907

Sir John Lavery, "The Green Couch," c. 1903

I adore how the brushstrokes reveal the multiple colors that comprise the dress, so you can see the painting process but also get the suggestion that there are many layers of fabric. I also love how the black sleeves are clearly sheer. More information on this painting from Sotheby's

Hans Andersen Brendekilde's "Springtime: The First Anemones" (1889)

I came across this picture today and thought about how the subject matter resonates with me. Lucy and I have taken many springtime walks together (usually with Violet), and we both enjoy looking at the flowers and talking about their pretty colors. Springtime is still such a new idea for Lucy - I don't know if she remembers it last year, when she was two - and I love seeing her celebrate all of the life and color around us.

Although my life with a toddler is not as idyllic as the scene presented in this painting (our walk to the bus stop today involved Lucy whining and loudly crying), I still can connect with the quiet, loving moment that these two people share together as they hold hands and make eye contact. Each day I spent with Lucy, there is at least one memorable moment during the day where we have held hands, had a snuggle, or laughed together. And I do love to feel her small hand in mine; I know that little hand won't stay little forever.

Trip to Germany: Berlin (Day 9)

This was probably the busiest day on my whole trip to Germany. I went to five major museums, plus a couple of other historical sites! Most of the museums are visible in this photo of "Museum Island," which I took from the top of the Berlin Cathedral (Berliner Dom) between my visits to the Altes Museum and the Bode Museum. The crane in the background will serve as a reminder to me that part of the Pergamon Museum was closed for renovation - which means I now have a reason to go back one day.

Rachel and I started the day going to Checkpoint Charlie, and then we walked around and saw a few sections of the Berlin Wall.

GEMÄLDEGALERIE:
Then we kept walking through the city and went to the Gemäldegalerie. There were a couple of works of art that really stood out to me:

Master of the Maria-Magdalena, detail of Maria Magdalena (Mansi-Magdalena), after 1525

It was fun to see Caravaggio's Amor Vincit Omnia in person!

It also was fun to stumble across Frans Hals' painting "Catharina Hooft and Her Nurse" in the gallery!

It was fun to stumble across this Botticelli ("Portrait of a Young Lady"). I became familiar with this painting not too long before my trip; I think the sitter looks a lot like my sister E.

This was my favorite work of art from the Gemäldegalerie: Antonio del Pollaiuolo's "Profile Portrait of a Young Lady" (1465). It is gorgeous, and I noted with irony that I would be visiting another beautiful long-necked lady later that afternoon (i. e. The Bust of Queen Nefertiti at the Neues Museum).

PERGAMON MUSEUM:

Of course, my greatest disappointment on this trip was not being able to see the Altar of Zeus at the Pergamon Museum. For a split second I even considered canceling my ticket and going another year, but I'm glad that I didn't do that. Now I just have a reason to go back to Berlin. It was really fun, however, to see the Ishtar Gate. What a highlight to see this gate in person!

I was really glad to see the inscription is located that is discussed with this gate. The exact original location of the inscription isn't known, but today it is placed off to the side of the gate. Perhaps the unknown location explains why the inscription isn't visible in reproductions of the gate found in typical art history textbooks.

A replica of the Stele of Hammurabi is placed between the walls and the facade of the Throne Room of the palace at Babylon. This room was used as an official reception room. The original facade was 56 meters in length and what we see is a tentative reconstruction of the upper part of the facade (with stylized palms and patterned registers).

NEUES MUSEUM:
In the Neues Museum I felt like I got to run into old friends, because I saw works of art that I know very well. The famous Queen Nefertiti bust is located there (no photos permitted within the room, but I did get one from the next room). I was expecting to see the bust, but I didn't realize that the sunken relief of "Akhenaten with his Family" was in the Neues collection. It was so fun to just stumble across it in the gallery, as well as the powerful, small portrait of Nefertiti's mother Queen Tiye!

ALTE NATIONALGALERIE:

There were so many works of art that I liked in this museum, but the ones that stood out to me were Canova's "Hebe" and paintings by Friedrich. There also were a lot of pictures of adorable children (I posted details on Instagram), and those made me miss my own kids. 

I took so many detail photographs of "Hebe." This is one of four versions, by Canova and I forgot that it was in the Alte Nationalgalerie collection until I went inside. It was fun to look at it from the side and see details in the back, including the flowing drapery and the bow.

When I think of the landscape that I saw while driving in Germany on my trip, I think back to this painting: "The Rhine near Säckingen" (1873)by Hans Thoma. The bright green color of the fields looks just like the bright green that I saw while we drove around in our car.

Hans Thoma, detail of "The Rhine near Säckingen," 1873

I really liked seeing Friedrich's "Monk by the Sea" and "Abbey Oak in the Forest" side by side.

I didn't realize that Friedrich's "Woman at a Window" (1822) is in this collection, too. It is in the same room as the other Friedrich paintings in the photo above. This painting was fun for me to see, since I use this image as a header for my art history blog. Plus, I just love 19th century paintings of women in period clothing.

ALTES MUSEUM:
The biggest highlight of the Altes Museum was getting to see the Berlin Kore. I love that so much of the original paint is still visible on her. And my biggest realization, upon seeing her in person, was that her face is not symmetrical: her right eye (on the viewer's left) is a bit higher than her left one!

This was the first time I ever saw the back of this sculpture (I had never seen a photographic reproduction), and I was struck by the even folds of her stylized braids and drapery

BODE MUSEUM:

I have to admit, the Bode Museum was my least favorite museum that I visited on Museum Island. In my opinion, there are a lot of second-rate medieval and Renaissance sculptures there. The collection and its display seemed a little random and haphazardly-arranged, too. But there are some gems scattered throughout the galleries, including Canova's "Dancer." Notice the really impressive ringlets in her ponytail!

Canova's "Dancer" (1809-12)

Guiliano Finelli was a Baroque sculptor who actually helped Bernini to create some of his masterpieces. The delicate hair strands and laurel leaves on Bernini's Apollo and Daphne are actually Finelli's work. This is Finelli's Portrait of the Principe Michele Damasceni-Perett (Finelli active 1601-1653 in Rome). The delicate lace collar is a great indication of Finelli's fine skill with marble.

 I really liked this interesting display at the Bode Museum, which connects to works of art together that have a similar composition and a shared acquisition history, but different original historical contexts and perceptions. The label reads: "The putto stood as one of six originally on the baptismal font of Siena Cathedral; the woman with jewelry was once part of a memorial altar in Benin City, present-day Nigeria. Both bronzes were acquired at roughly the same time by the Berlin Museums, one as a work of art, the other as an ethnological object. These two masterpieces finally meet as equals."

This day was a very full one! I felt like my eyeballs should have fallen out since I spent so much time looking. But I didn't mind one bit - it was a special and unforgettable day.