If you could be anywhere in the world, right now, where would you be?
I would be here, with Frank, in Venice. Of course, anywhere in Venice would be just fine, but this is a particularly lovely spot. So here's to being in the most beautiful city in the world, in the "magic hour" as dusk descends, looking across the Grand Canal, ready to sit in the one of the best seats in the house: The Red Chair.
You may not know this, but Riverfront Art Gallery has an external show program, whereby Riverfront artists join with local businesses to show in their venues. So we are thrilled to announce that currently we are showing a collection of our Venice performers at simply the most lovely jewelry store in Petaluma, J. Solar Fine Jewelry.
J Solar Fine Jewelry is a marvelous store with some of the most beautiful and unique hand-crafted gemstone jewelry, fine jewelry and fashion jewelry to be found. The store also carries unique art works including art glass and two-dimensional pieces. I will admit, it was a little hard to hang the show efficiently because I kept getting distracted. It seemed that in each case I passed, there was something special that caught my eye.
This show is called, "Venetian Jewels: Portraits from Carnival in Venice." We have specially selected images that emphasize the beautiful jewels that are part of many Carnival masks, headdresses and costumes. Some images in the show have not been shown publicly before, and it is a delight to have them make their debut in such a lovely setting. "Red Velvet Romance," shown above, is one of our debut performers.
Since the trees are turning to the rich colors of Autumn, we selected the beautiful "Autumn Velvet" to make her debut at this show, as well...
And finally, because sometimes the most beautiful jewelry is spare and classic, we introduce to you another performer making her debut, "It's All About the Jewels II." A simple line of elegant pearls and a gorgeous ring is all this performer needs to look stunning...
At Riverfront, our Venetian performers have become simply known as "The Ladies." Of course, we are not exactly sure that the performers are all women, and that is one of the marvelous mysteries of Carnival - we do not know the identities of those behind the mask. But perhaps because they are so beautiful, we assume they must be female. At any rate, the Ladies are just delighted to be placed in such a lovely setting. They feel that they fit in perfectly, and we do, too.
We hope you will stop by and enjoy the beautiful and unique jewelry at J Solar Fine Jewelry and visit our lovely Ladies, as well. For more information about this marvelous store, visit their website: www.jsolarfinejewelry.com
With 8 fellow Venetian Carnival Maskers, this lovely image is part of our newest photography show.
We are delighted to have been asked to exhibit our work at The Gallery at Sonoma Eyeworks. The show's title is, "It's All About the Eyes: Portraits from Carnival in Venice." Since Sonoma Eyeworks is an optical business, it seems fitting that we share images that really highlight what brings the mask to life: Each Masker and his or her eyes. The images in the show, some of which have not been publicly displayed before, focus on the lovely moment of engagement we have experienced with each Masker as we photograph the beautiful madness that is Carnival in Venice.
The Gallery at Sonoma Eyeworks is a particularly lovely space, with a beautiful exposed brick wall and first class lighting. We think it is a hidden gem in the Sonoma County arts scene. We are most grateful to the staff for generously providing such an inspired environment for Sonoma County artists. We are particularly appreciative to the Gallery curator, Linda Guzzetta, for her enthusiasm and support.
The show runs from July 1st, 2011 through August 31 st, 2011 at Sonoma Eyeworks, 534 Larkfield Shopping Center in Santa Rosa, California. For more information, visit their website: www.sonomaeyeworks.com.
Our Maskers - and the staff at Sonoma Eyeworks, would be delighted to see you.
Tonight Frank and I have the pleasure of attending the opening of a new show at Sebastopol Center for the Arts, "Lady Luck: An Exhibition Selected by Chance." The premise of the show is very amusing. Open to all media and themes, the works admitted into the show were selected by random drawing (although it was noted that works expressing the theme of Luck "could be luckier, or not.")
Lady Luck was quite generous as she selected images submitted by each of us. The above image is one of Frank's, showing one of the delightfully creative and quite "over-the-top" costumes from Carnivale in Venice. Here is a larger view:
The costume is quite large, an impressively quirky meeting of Las Vegas showgirl with a casino floor roulette table and cards. In the brisk morning breeze from the Venetian Lagoon, it is quite a feat for the Masker to manage both the "wings" and the massive headdress. Performing in this costume certainly is not for the faint-of-heart (but then neither is dancing with Lady Luck!)
So tonight we will celebrate with the lovely Lady Luck and enjoy viewing the other artworks so honored by Fortuna. On our way out, perhaps we will consult with one of my two Fortune Tellers in the show, and see what the future holds...
Once again, it is the Day of the Dead. It is a time to remember, to celebrate and to honor loved and lost souls. This is our sweet Miss Lily - a very dear kitty soul who shared our lives for nearly 19 years, and who still is with us in spirit.
Lily passed away while we were in Venice at Carnivale. We did not expect this - when we left her, she had been well. But events unfolded in ways we could not predict, and she became ill and passed very quickly. It will always be a source of additional grief that we could not hold her as she died. But perhaps it was as it should be: Perhaps she knew we could not bear to say good bye to her in person. Perhaps she could not bear to say good bye to us in person, either. Still, we feel her spirit was with us as she began to let go. And this is why:
It was late afternoon and we were in front of the Doge's Palace, along with the usual crowd of masked Carnivale performers, visitors and photographers. In the midst of the afternoon chaos I was drawn to something very unusual. There are many types of traditional masks worn at Carnivale and most of them have to do, in some form or another, with human or human-like faces. While there are Carnivale masks made in the images of animals, it is very rare, in my experience, to see a performer wearing such a mask. And I had never seen a child wearing one. But there, in the afternoon light, was a child wearing the mask of a cat with a beautiful light-colored face. The mask reminded me of our Lily. I was surprised enough to take a photograph. And because of the press of the crowds and the time, I was only able to take one photograph. We were tired and this was one of my last images for the day. It was as we were leaving St. Mark's Square that we received the call that Lily seemed very ill and needed to be taken to our vet. Later, in the early morning hours, she passed.
We have not been able to stop thinking about the young performer in the sweet cat mask. So unusual. So lovely. Such a surprise.
And so, in our hearts, we have come to see this as our sweet Lily's Spirit Guide. She came to us, we looked into each other's eyes, and we were together, in spirit, even if we could not be together in person.
"That," said my companion as the lights went up, "That was weird." And she was right. The show we had just seen was weird - delightfully, deliciously, spectacularly and gorgeously weird. We had just seen "O" - the extraordinary Cirque du Soleil production. It was my second time. And I was just as captivated this time as I had been originally.
The joy of the show is at many levels. In the Program, O is described as an homage to the theater. But just as theater is always more than the story that is directly told, this is so much more, as well. Because the show might just as well have been described as delving into the theater of the mind, the circular, dark and colorful places that we explore only in dream life and in times of openness to the unconscious. The show is about the elemental - water, fire. It is about more: Color, light, perception. It is about creativity, athleticism and skill. It is all amazing.
We are introduced to this world of possibility with the throwing back of the scarlet curtains. No, they aren't thrown, seemingly alive, they fly apart, passionate scarlet silk, dancing, diving across the stage into the wings. But actually our introduction began earlier. With the clowns, yes - because this still is a circus. But then with the presence of the scarlet-coated, well, who are they? Courtiers? They look uniform, formal, of another time and place, and they move in elegant, rigid unison. They are bewigged, wearing tailored scarlet coats that, during dance and flight, may fall open to reveal black stockings and garters. The courtier meets the show girl? But it is not that simple: It is not erotic, but it is unexpected, like so much about "O," it is puzzling.
No matter the costumes, though they are compelling, the audience is summoned to attention by these figures. It is one of the courtiers who spreads incense, swung in an incense burner as would be used in a religious ceremony. With the audience thus cleansed, anointed, there appears a whip-cracking character and a laughing ballerina to escort us into the depths. It is confusing, disorienting, tantalizing. And the red courtiers? Still we wonder, "Who are they?" It is not clear if they are male or female. It doesn't matter. Throughout the experience they participate in the events: They fly, they ride horses, they move across the stage. At times they seem to provide visual and emotional continuity, grounding the audience, a formal, scarlet structure linking us with the characters, linking our conscious with our unconscious.
Nothing is as it seems. A man sits quietly engulfed in flames as he reads the newspaper. The expected never occurs. Sitting at the edge of the pool, one waits for water to be splashed on him, for him to jump in. For there has to be some safe rescue from the almost unbearable fear that he will be burned. But instead, he quietly, calmly, interminably picks up his chair and ambles off the stage. Sometimes we remain in the fire.
And then there is the water. The title, "O," is taken from the sound of the French word for water, and in homage to the visual similarity of the letter to infinity, the sense that there is no beginning and no end. The water is a character: It is deep, it is shallow, it is a net of safety, it is engulfing. It is the place from which life emerges, and it is the place into which life descends. Under the water there is a team of mostly unseen characters, black wet-suited divers, providing air for the performers, but who are seen for a few moments as they beach themselves, like black, primal frogs, waving their flippers playfully in the air.
Characters emerge from the waters, float and dance in them, play, swim and dive into them, and display the extraordinary capacity of the human body to move, bend, contort into beautifully elegant and breathtaking positions. And as we all eventually will, characters descend into the blue void, slowly, unexpectedly, quietly. The characters doff their street clothes, which are collected by an efficient, apron-wearing maid. When she is finished, she slowly pushes her clothing-filled cart and she, and it, quietly descend into the waters. The piano player - and the piano - similarly descend. It sounds laughable and yet in some strange way it is moving.
The show asks a lot of us. Put aside your linear thinking, it asks. No it demands. Give yourself over to the mysteries of the unconscious, the irrational, the beautiful, the grotesque, the elegant, the frightening. Let yourself be immersed, visually, emotionally, in the waters, in the light, in the color and in the choreographed randomness of it all. Horses fly and so do humans. Be awestruck. Laugh. Be moved. Be curious. Be repelled. Be frightened. Be engaged. Be open. Just don't be closed. Because to be closed is to miss so much of what the performers are generously giving.
It is an immensely generous production. Generous in its physical beauty. The costumes, colorful, gorgeous works of art, engineered to withstand twice nightly immersion in chlorinated water. The performers, generous in their feats of daring, exquisitely elegant, sensuous, strong, confident. Their feats of coordination in the air, in the water, on the stage, are breathtaking. The story - no, the lack of a linear story - is generous in its invitation to put aside assumptions about the everyday world, the day world, the world of light and reason, and to descend into the world of darkness, possibility, chance, the irrational, the passionate, the curious, that which cannot be understood, drives, fears. That which lives within all of us, but which we usually cannot or do not wish to acknowledge, let alone engage in conversation or dance. The show: A Rorschach test for the audience.
The Program articulates the invitation into the darkness: Of the characters it asks, first - Who will we play with? And more than that, more deeply, Who will we be? What masks will we wear? The Courtesan? The Jester? What, of ourselves, is revealed, is challenged, is stirred in this journey?
So, yes, my companion was right: O is weird. But it is so much more. And it is more than just an athletically compelling show (though that it certainly is). O provides a two hour period, in the sanctified space of the theater, to accept or decline the invitation to let ourselves go and submerge ourselves in fantasy, in this journey into the theater of the unconscious.
I still think about O. I look at the gorgeously produced Program. I realize that part of the power of O for me was that it came at a time when I was seeking validation for giving voice to my own creativity and imagination, for submerging myself in the creative process. Talk about serendipity and timing. The show came to me just at the time when I might be most open to its journey at all its levels. I was ready to accept the generous invitation from the characters to play, to be embraced by creativity and passion, and to be reminded that such an endeavor is worthy.
The image at the top of this entry is not from O. But he (or she) is from another place that invites us to be immersed in creativity and mystery: Venice at Carnivale. It turns out that Venice apparently did provide some inspiration for some artistic aspects of the show. So, the Jester smiles and extends an invitation to play. I will accept the generosity of the invitation. And, of course, I will continue to wonder about the mysteries of scarlet courtiers in garters.
