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.
After some time away, we're back. But wherever we go, we seem to be directed towards the same message. This time the reminder comes from Venice, delivered to us on the first morning of our explorations. This store window engaged us with a strong piece of urban wisdom superimposed on the soft and artistic reflection of the lovely statues that adorn the church across the campo.
The message is universal: Try to ward off complacency. Don't be distracted by the unimportant. Every moment is precious, a blessing, a gift, an opportunity.
And so,
Carpe Diem!
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.
It has been a difficult week in many places in the world.
This graceful figure honors those who have passed and those who continue to suffer.
She also honors the human capacities to use art to express that which cannot be put into words, and to make meaning and beauty out of loss.
Is it a photograph or is it a painting?
Is it reality or is it a dream?
La Serenissima entices us with color and light, drawing us into her heart and history, inviting us to lose ourselves in her romantic spaces and to fall in love with her again.
With the birth of Larkin, perhaps I am thinking about what it means to have a new generation born, and, because of that, what it means for me to have become solidly part of an older generation. No longer the generation of an "aunt" but rather part of the generation of the "great aunt." Amazing. And so I am thinking about the old and the new, about tradition and what happens to tradition over time as it is re-created and modified by those who come after us.
I was looking at these images from Venice which, in and of themselves, reflect innovation in photography not easily available even a generation ago. These photographs have been transformed by painting effects. So the process of creating the images reflects innovation and change, but so, too, does the content.
The Venetian tradition of glass blowing goes back generations, centuries. And the above image is a portrait of a traditional work: Delicate, ornate, beautiful in its gold and blue details, precious, fragile.
These are contemporary pieces:
By contrast, these vases are strong, solid, still with rich, ornate gold detailing, but not at all fragile. They stand tall, with a playful and rebelliously creative streak: Clothes pegs? On glass? You have to smile.
And perhaps that is what each new generation brings: Strength, rebelliousness, creativity. Each generation takes us to new places, building on the foundation we have provided and leading us on journeys we could never imagine. I wonder where Larkin will lead us?
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.
We all wear them. Masks. To present our best, to hide, to cope, to cover our worst. It is not good or bad. It is part of the human condition. Perhaps, in time and with circumstance, we present our true selves to the world and ourselves: Indeed, it probably is a developmental achievement of integration to be able to do so. Still, perhaps because I am a psychologist, I am curious about how we present externally to the world, and what remains hidden inside. And so, in both metaphor and reality, I am fascinated by masks.
For the first time, during our most recent trip to Venice, I encountered collections of simple, unadorned, white Carnivale masks. As I saw them, some looked quite powerful in and of themselves, even without any adornment. Gradually, they began to take on a life of their own. And so these musings about secrets and masks were born.
If we all have our masks, it is true that some live with a collection of many of them. Thrown on and off, each one used differently, depending on the state of the internal or external world at the time. Then taken off, stored, kept safely until next required.
But what of the masks, themselves? Do they take on a life of their own? Are they powerful enough that we can become influenced deeply by them, affected by them? If our masks could speak, themselves, about what would they confide? What would they say?
Would they speak about anguish?
Would they speak about suspicion?
Would they speak about torment?
Or perhaps would they speak about peace?
Or artistic creativity?
These plain, white Venetian Carnivale masks speak of many things, quite simply. It is true that eventually they will become artfully adorned and beautifully finished. There will be different layers of color and meaning applied.
But before that, before they become works of art and are inhabited by some curious and playful soul, perhaps they simply reveal that which they are created to cover. That is, the feelings and experiences that we all encounter as humans, and the tools we use to manage them.
I am going to see her, my love. I have not seen her for a year and each time I leave, I fear that I have seen her for the last time. Of course, I have photographs of her. But it is not the same. Still, they carry me through my regular days and trigger memories of our last wonderful times together.
I wonder how she will look. Last time she was radiant and youthful in the clear, winter light. Sometimes she wraps herself in a cloud of gray cashmere, and she looks just as beautiful to me when she is covered in this way. She is a marvelous companion. Oh, the stories she tells. Of intrigue and love and history, of palaces, and of princes of peace and war. She is strong, like a lioness. But she is vulnerable. Others worry about her health, and I do, too. The winters have become increasingly difficult. It is hard for her to tolerate the damp and cold.
Yet she is resilient and refuses to retire. It is because at heart she is still a beautiful woman, a courtesan, craving the attention and flattery that she received in her youth. It is true that she is no longer youthful. In some light, she looks her age. She works hard to cover it, though she also is unashamed of the "work" she has had on her face. She knows skilled artisans who adore her and care for her, as we all do. In reality, she is vain. She always has been, and with good reason. Her beauty is legendary. I know in the calm, bright winter light, I catch her looking at herself in the waters when they are still. And even when the waters are murky and turgid, she still basks in her own reflection, unable to tear herself away.
I know I am not the only one. She has other lovers, and I know she is fickle in her affections. She is impatient with those who just visit for a day or an evening - one night stands that leave her worn and tired. Her relatives are few, and they have left for other places. She is left with those who love her but cannot stay. Perhaps she prefers it that way. I know she will be busy while I am there - the winter has become filled with parties in her drawing rooms. She has many to entertain. But I will be content to accept what she has to offer me. I love to be with her in the morning, as the sun rises, bringing a warm, golden light from the glorious colors of the dawn crimson and blue sky. It is a bit quieter then. My favorite time, though, is late in the evening. She has more time then, she is quieter, less preoccupied and more reflective. It is then that she whispers stories of her other lovers, of her romances, of fantasies and mystery.
And so I sit and wait and count the days until I will be with her again.
She is the beautiful, the serene one. She has captured my heart and soul. She is "La Serenissima" - the Serene City - my lovely Venice.
I actually wrote this piece several days before we traveled to Venice in February for Carnival. I will post more about this wonderful trip and Venice in the future. These images are some favorites - the beautiful lady gazes at herself in her canals' reflections.
But for now, this is dedicated to M and T with good wishes for a perfect and perfectly romantic trip to visit the lovely lady.
Stephanie
Today is Day of the Dead, so thoughts about life and death are with me today. However, this isn't a new preoccupation. One of my favorite movies in childhood was a 1934 classic called, "Death Takes a Holiday." (OK, perhaps I was a strange kid). The story is that Death wonders why humans fear him so much, so takes human form on earth for several days. In that time he learns about life and relationships and experiences being loved by someone who truly sees him as he is, but loves him anyway. He begins to understand why humans feel loss so painfully, and the depth of love and connection. In the end, he finds, "Love is greater than illusion and as strong as death."
Brad Pitt starred in a remake of the movie several years ago. But that movie neglected a part of the original story that always touched me. That is, while death took his "holiday" there were no deaths in the world. Despite the fact that car crashes, accidents and wars continued, no one died. It seemed like such a relief to me to think about this. To have a break from the fear associated with death and loss. At that time I don't think I understood the part about love being as strong as death, and so I didn't focus on it. It took meeting Frank, the love of my life, and to spend 35 years with him, to understand the strength of love, the strength of love that remains ever-present, (even when all of one is revealed, warts and all), and the idea, romantic as it is, of a love that can transcend time and circumstance.
So what does that all have to do with the above image? It is in the Venice of the misty winter that I feel most surrounded by the mysterious forces of love, life and death. I love that Frank and I both have such a deep feeling for the place, and the sharing of that is a delight. But this sense of Venice embodying the romantic, the mysterious, the ghostly, is not just our experience, it has touched artists of all mediums for centuries.
This was not the photograph that I intended to take, that wintery morning during Carnival, but it was the one that was captured by my camera. This figure seems so quietly mysterious, alone and, somehow, tired. In my mind I see her patiently waiting as the morning light begins to reveal itself. Who does she wait for? Or has she taken a holiday, a break from her duties? In the movement unexpectedly caught on camera, she looks up at me, but it is not my time.
I know that Death doesn't take a holiday. I know that each moment is a gift. And I know that because I am human, sometimes I get so caught up in the daily unimportant "stresses" of life, I forget that. This image reminds me, in a tender and less frightening way, that time is limited, and life must be lived. Some might say that this all is naive, over-romanticized, and to them I reply that I do know some about painful realities of life and death. But somehow this gives me comfort, and in the face of the eternal unknown, that isn't a bad thing. Stephanie
I am unabashedly in love with Venice, particularly winter-time Venice. The light, the mist, the colors, the architecture: No matter how many times I visit, I am still stunned by the decrepit beauty of her weathered facades. Art is everywhere. During our last trip I became drawn to the sculptured portraits found on door frames, on bridges and sometimes on walls. I have visited Venice many times, but it was only on this last trip that I really began to notice them. These sculptured faces are of humans and animals. Some are elegant and lovely. But others are like this one: A sad and poignant reminder that in the world there are tortured souls who struggle and suffer.
I feel drawn to this image because of its painful beauty. And perhaps I am drawn to it because I have been drawn to working with those who are disenfranchised and have suffered. It has been important to me to feel that in my work I have used my capacities to be of service to those who do not have advocates. In a strange way, I feel protective towards this image, as well: When it was rejected for an art show on "Portraits" I felt disappointed, of course, but also guilty - that I had somehow let it/him down. Because I wanted people to see him - to not turn away from him, to not ignore him. It is easy to notice the beautiful, but it takes more effort to really look at that which is troubling, frightening. Yet that is part of the human condition.
The California artist, Mark Lindsay (www.marklindsayart.com) has a beautiful series he calls "Venetian Ghosts." We all have ghosts, but somehow they seem all the more evident in the damp beauty of Venice - La Serenissima. Perhaps that is why I love her so. Stephanie
