Cambridge

Van Gogh frequently used the structure of a figure
walking down an ally of trees in his
paintings, modeled originally on work by English
landscape painter John Millais

Van Gogh Drawing

Before leaving London, I was able to attend an exhibition at the Tate Britain on Van Gogh and Britain.  I didn't know (or hadn't remembered) that he lived in London for some years in his early twenties.  It was here he studied line drawing and print making and began his own work as an artist.  He later wrote:  "I often felt low in England ... but the Black and White [prints] and Dickens, are things that made up for it all."  I particularly liked this Van Gogh print made at that time.

Portrait of Roger Fry by Vanessa Bell

The exhibit also focused on British artists whose work was influenced by Van Gogh in the early twentieth century. Roger Fry, an art dealer who was the lover for a time of Vanessa Bell, Virginia Wolfe's sister, played a major role in introducing the 'new' painting to the British.  It was Fry who coined the term "Post-Impressionism".  Two of Vanessa's works -- including this portrait of Roger Fry -- were on display, a rarity as most were burned in a fire.   Van Gogh, who had sold virtually nothing during his life, was featured, along with others, in exhibitions that Fry mounted in London to expose British collectors to the new painting styles.  The current exhibit at the Tate includes many of Van Gogh's works brought to Britain in the early 20th century and several pieces by British artists influenced by him and other painters like Manet.  Indeed, it appears that Van Gogh's sunflowers inspired a whole new interest in British flower painting.  In 1910, when he mounted the first of the exhibitions, Fry said:  "European art has always mistreated flowers, dealing with them at best as aids to sentimentality until Van Gogh saw ... the arrogant spirit that inhabits the sunflower".

St. John's College

I always enjoy returning to Cambridge and this year was no exception.  I'm taking two history classes:  "Britain and Its Empire: 1763-1919", taught by Sean Lang, from whom I've taken two other courses, and "Russia from Lenin to Stalin, 1917-53" taught by Jonathan Davis.  Both men are good lecturers, well prepared and right on time.  This year, the plenary lectures are loosely organized around the theme of intelligence.  They have covered subjects such as animal intelligence, collections of historical scientific instruments, better ways to treat mental illness, and artificial intelligence.  This morning, we heard a lecture titled "Seedy, Clever and Bleak: Spies in British 20th Century Literature".  The connection to the theme of the plenary lectures seemed tenuous at best until Leo Mellor, who gave the talk, told us that in the 17th century, spies were called "intelligencers."  It was a wonderful lecture and I now have a long list of new books to read in one of my favorite genres.

St John's College, Bridge of Sighs

Last Wednesday the International Summer School hosted a tea on the lawn at St. John's College, which is a stunning place.  It owns the most beautiful bridge across the Cam, known as the Bridge of Sighs, theoretically because of the dejection of students who do poorly in their examinations -- a less lethal reason presumably than those who crossed the Bridge of Sighs in Venice on their way to their deaths.

American Cemetery, Cambridge

The next afternoon we visited the American Cemetery of Cambridge, which is located just a few miles from our college. I am always so moved by this beautiful monument to the fallen of World War II.  Over 3,500 men and women are buried there and over 5,700 more whose remains were never recovered are listed on the wall of remembrance, among them Joseph Kennedy Jr. and Glenn Miller.

On Saturday, we took a bus to Leicester to see the new Richard III museum.  It is utterly amazing and well worth a visit to this out-of-the-way and otherwise unattractive industrial town.

Richard III

Richard is the villain of the Wars of the Roses because he killed the two Lancastrian princes in the Tower of London.  Henry Tudor then brought an army to England and defeated Richard at Bosworth Field, crowning himself Henry VII.   Richard was dumped unceremoniously in a shallow grave, no one was sure exactly where, and so lost to history.

Tombstone of Richard III, Leicester Cathedral
I love the power and simplicity of this grave marker.

Several years ago,     a determined archeologist began digging in a municipal parking lot in the center of Leicester that was thought to have been the site of a Greyfriar's Monastery at the time of the Battle of Bosworth.  The first thing her team discovered, not two feet underground, was a skeleton with a distinct curvature of the spine characteristic of descriptions of Richard as having one shoulder higher than the other or being a hunchback.  They ground up a tooth and part of a leg bone to get the DNA.  Fortunately two women, an Englishwoman and an Australian, had traced their ancestry back to Richard's sister.  Using mitochondrial DNA testing (which I think involves the fluid that surrounds the nucleus inside the cell), they determined that the skeleton was related to the sister and therefore must be Richard.  His body is now buried in the Choir of Leicester Cathedral and the parking lot has become an absolutely wonderful museum, very interactive and full of information about the origins of the war, which lasted for more than 30 years, how it was fought and its climactic battle.

Harlaxton Manor and Greenhouse

Harlaxton Manor Garden

Harlaxton Manor interior
(notice the ceiling decoration reflected
in the mirror)

From Leicester, we went on to a lovely little village in Yorkshire that is the site of Harlaxton Manor, a venerable Victorian pile, that is now the headquarters of the Evansville (Indiana) University overseas study program.  Suzy Lantz, who organizes these trips for us and used to manage that program, arranged a tour.  The house, which is so enormous that I never got far enough away from it to take a picture of the whole thing, has hundreds of rooms, a carriage house that looks like a grand estate all by itself, and loads of follies and gardens.  Built in the middle of the 19th century, it features a variety of architectural styles from Gothic to Jacobean to Rococo to French Second Empire.  But somehow it all works.  It has been beautifully maintained with outrageously high ceilings and decorations everywhere.  I don't know how they keep it dusted, let alone heated!  But we loved it and had a very nice tea before driving back to Cambridge.

My days here in Cambridge are drawing to a close.  I suppose they might seem boring to many of you, but I find them both stimulating and relaxing.  From Monday to Friday, after breakfast, I attend two classes and a plenary lecture from 9:00 to 1:00 and then my afternoon is all mine.  Sometimes I go into town for lunch or tea and wander into museums or shop or visit with friends.  Other times, I meet someone from one of my classes or someone from the Club for lunch on campus, which gives me time in the afternoon to write my blog, read a book, have a nap and/or take care of laundry.  On other days, our group goes off to punt on the river, have tea at the Orchard in Grantchester or visit the American Cemetery.  We gather in the bar at the College for a drink around 5:45, have dinner at 6:30 or so and then I have time to sit in the garden with my book until the final lecture or concert of the evening.  I find the relaxed atmosphere, the simple routine and absence of responsibility quite refreshing -- and you meet so many interesting people and learn such amazing things!

We'll finish classes on July 19th and then it will be home to Seattle for me.  I look forward to seeing you all again soon.

Great Theater in Stratford and London

Visiting my friend Miriam at her home in Stratford has become something of a summer tradition as it is easy to add a visit of several days before or after my course at the International Summer School in Cambridge.  After stopping overnight in London last Monday, I took the train to Stratford where good food, great conversations and lots of theater awaited my arrival.

Sir John and Lady Brute

John Vanbrugh

On Tuesday night, we saw The Provoked Wife, a 1697 Restoration comedy by John Vanbrugh, who was also the architect of both Castle Howard (think Brideshead Revisited on Masterpiece Theater) and Blenheim, the Churchill home.  I had never seen the play before and it turned out to be a much more thought-provoking romp than the usual Restoration comedies, although equally licentious.

Lady Fancyfull

Lady Brute has made a bargain with the devil in marrying the alcoholic and very debauched Sir John Brute, but she sought both his title and his wealth in marriage thinking she could tame him.  Now, some years later, she is wrestling with her conscience about whether she should take a lover and a young man named Constant is more than ready to oblige.  There are the usual round of sub-plots, including one featuring Lady Fancyfull, who covers her gray hair with a wig that is almost orange and whose makeup resembles the face of a kewpie doll -- all with the aim of attracting young admirers.  In the end Lady Brute retains her virtue but a mirror is exposed to all the foibles of society.  The production, in period costume, was sumptuous and the acting superb.

Scene from Measure for Measure:  Isabella and her tormentor

On Wednesday, in a complete change of authors and mood -- thought not of subject -- we saw Shakespeare's Measure for Measure.  In this play, a Duke who has promulgated all sorts of laws against licentiousness and depravity but not bothered to enforce them, leaves town and puts his seemingly pure deputy in charge of cleaning things up.  Claudio is one of the young men condemned to death for having bedded his fiancé.  His sister Isabella, a novice in a convent, pleads with the deputy for her brother's life and is offered the option of giving up her own chastity to save him.  She declines, but through a series of subterfuges and strategies, abetted by the Duke who has returned to town disguised as a monk (that's an outrage in and of itself), both Claudio and his sister's honor are saved.  The sexual politics here are absolutely chilling - made even more powerful by the splendid acting of Lucy Phelps as Isabella - and are not changed by the resolution at the end.  Indeed, the Duke's fundamental corruption only underscores that predatory behavior will continue as before -- even unto this day.

This production was set in Vienna at the dawn of the twentieth century, a perfect location.  As one of the local reviews noted:  "Setting the play in the Vienna of the 1900s is also something of a masterstroke. It lends this rather squalid tale a veneer of gentility and elegance".

Simon Russell Beale in The Lehman Trilogy

Miriam and I enjoyed a great dinner at Salt, one of our favorite Stratford restaurants, on Thursday and then I returned to London on Friday.                  

That evening, I was able to attend a performance of The Lehman Trilogy, which is, along with Wolf Hall, one of the most thrilling theatrical events of this decade.  Written in Italian by Stafano Massini, it has been translated into English and adapted for this production.  With only three actors, it tells the story of the Lehman Brothers banking business from its beginnings in Alabama in the 1840s until its collapse in 2008.  Sam Mendes directs Simon Russell Beale, one of the greatest performers on the British stage today, Adam Godley and Ben Miles as the Lehman Brothers, their sons and grandsons (and a few wives and daughters) in a set that is a revolving glass cube.  It is just brilliant.  I understand that, just like the Met in HD, there will eventually be the opportunity to see it in a Seattle movie theater.  Look for the National Theatre in HD.  I urge all of you to see it if you can.  It is a thrilling theatrical event.  

Dinner with friends at Ottolenghi's NOPI on Saturday night and then on to Cambridge on Sunday.

The Heat Wave

The extreme heat wave that spread across Europe the second week of my stay in France appears to have been news even in the United States, as many of you wrote to me about it.  With temperatures cresting 90° and threatening to go higher -- and humidity to match -- the heat wave reminded me of childhood summers in Brooklyn, long before anyone had air-conditioning.  The French find themselves in a similar situation since most homes and apartments aren't air conditioned and many offices aren't either.   As we did when I was a kid in Brooklyn, the French sleep and eat with a fan moving the air.

One unique way to handle the intense heat is to buy a little aerosol can of 'eau minérale', which is sold in pharmacies.  It is full of Evian water or something similar and when you think you'll die if you have to spend one more minute on that hot bus, you pull it out and mist your face and arms with this lovely stuff.  The evaporation is very cooling.  I've never seen it sold anywhere but in France.  Many cafés have a little pipe that emits a mist of cooling water running along under their awnings, much like the heaters they use in winter.  But that's it for keeping cool.

I also learned the French word for a scorching heat wave, la canicule.  It got me thinking about what used to be called, especially on the East Coast, "the dog days of summer", the astonishing wave of heat and humidity that usually came along in August when everyone was already tired of being hot.  A little research revealed that canicule and the dog days are in fact derived from the same source.   According to National Geographic, "The ancient Greeks thought of the constellation Canis Major as a dog chasing Lepus, the hare. The star Sirius is the dog’s nose; the Greeks called it the 'dog star'".  It follows the constellation of Orion the Hunter through the skies.  To the Greeks and Romans, the "dog days" occurred when the star Sirius rose just before the sun, in late July or early August.

This was, of course, not August but June and I had promised to spend the last weekend with the Sudour family, my friends in Marseille, where the temperature was a lot closer to 100°.  We didn't do a lot except drink water and get in the pool, but it was a lovely visit nevertheless and Nathalie's wonderful meals under the arbor on their patio were a treat.

The Sudour Patio
From Left to Right: Karen, Patrick, Louise, Nathalie & Elliott

Fortunately, by the time I returned to Paris on Sunday evening, the heat wave had broken there and on Monday morning, July 1, I headed for the Eurostar to England.  The drive to the Gare du Nord up the Blvd Sebastopol, was like traversing a war zone.  Two of this major boulevard's four lanes are closed because of the construction of bike lanes and in some instances other construction closed one more.  I felt like my cab driver deserved a battlefield decoration for getting me there at all, let alone in one piece!

Here's to Wretched Excess!

In addition to treating myself to what turned out to be the best lobster salad I've ever eaten (at dinner at a neighborhood restaurant called Allard), I had an extraordinary adventure on Wednesday.  Barbara Stickler, an expat friend I've mentioned before, turned me on to it.  On the rue Danielle Casanova, a stone's throw from the Place Vendôme where all the fabulous jewelry stores are, there is an Ecole des Arts Joailliers (Jewelry School) that is owned and operated by VanCleef and Arpels.  This year, they have mounted a special, free exhibit of jewelry made in the shape of birds, mostly brooches.  The pieces go all the way back to the 1700s, like the lovely little peacock above left.  The exhibit also included some prints of birds and other items with bird designs.  It isn't large, but is both outrageous and enchanting.  Here are some more images.

Getting Around

Trottinettes

As I write this second post, the temperature in Paris is 88°.   The streets are all torn up to install bike lanes, which has snarled traffic even more than usual. (Sound like Seattle without the heat?)  You can imagine what tempers are like as so many drivers sit in un-air-conditioned vehicles of various kinds.  To top it all off, Paris has had an invasion of motorized rental scooters, known locally as trottinettes, which has caused all sorts of grumbling as they speed along in the street or on the sidewalks at will and are dumped on the sidewalk or in the curb lane when no longer needed.  My friends just roll their eyes and offer a Gallic shrug.

But if one can get to a museum, then all sorts of wonders are available, usually in air conditioning.  In the last week, I have had the opportunity to visit two lovely little museums on the Left Bank, the Musée Maillol and the Musèe du Luxembourg.

Toulouse-Lautrec

Van Gogh

The Maillol has an exhibit of the French masterpieces in the collection of Swiss industrialist Emil Bührle

Gaugin Still Life

(1890-56).  They will eventually join the rest of his collection in a special wing of the Kunsthaus Museum in Zurich and will be well worth seeing for any of you who may travel there in coming years.  Bührle owned the statue of Degas' wonderful 14-year-old ballerina, which is on display, as well as a stunning collection of Impressionist art.  As with so many private collections, you find you've not seen many of these pieces before, although it sometimes seems otherwise because so many artists painted the same scene many times.  This is also the first time I've seen an exhibit that took head on the issue of looted Nazi art.  Bührle apparently collected almost a dozen pieces of looted art without worrying too much about the provenance (he started collecting in 1936), but eventually he had the pieces restored and then returned them to their owners.  Over the years, he re-acquired quite a few of them on the legitimate art market.  One of the most interesting paintings was a Gaugin still life (done at the urging of a gallery owner) that features both an eggplant and a papaya (his two lives sitting on a kitchen table!).

Nabis Design

Ceiling Painting

The Musée du Luxembourg had an exhibit of an art movement I'd never heard of, the Nabis -- a word that means prophet in Hebrew and Arabic.  I recognized the names of some of the artists who featured in the short life of this group (roughly the last two decades of the 19th century): Maurice Denis, Paul Sérusier, Paul Ranson, Pierre Bonnard, and Edouard Vuillard.  But I was unaware of their association.  The Nabis were one of many artistic movements that are now generally lumped into post-Impressionism, but their rejection of the Impressionists had more to do with breaking down the barrier between fine and decorative arts than with creating new ways of seeing familiar objects.  They were also heavily influenced by the Japanese prints that became so popular during that time and so there is a certain flatness to their work.  It must have been quite a job to pull this exhibit together since so many of their pieces were created for homes -- e.g. panels for dining rooms, wallpapers, designs for stained glass lamp shades (many made by Tiffany in New York), and the like -- and therefore easily dispersed.  I am particularly fond of the ceiling painting to the right above.

Wall Panels for a Dining Room

In 1895, Siegfried Bing, a gallery owner who had been a patron of the group, opened an exhibit in what he called his Maison de L'Art Nouveau.  Unlike other galleries, this one was like a home -- rooms filled with furniture, trinkets, paintings, sculptures and prints were furnished like an apartment.  The works of recognized artists combined with the furnishings of talented artisans -- a merger of the fine and applied arts -- swept Paris by storm.  I guess you aren't an art movement any more when items based on your ideas can be purchased in a department store as well as an art gallery!

Plus ça change...

Notre Dame (front  view)

I'm back in the apartment in which I spent 18 very happy months but many things have changed.  The climb up the staircase seems a little bit steeper for openers.  My favorite traiteur (take-away) has been replaced by an Italian restaurant (quite good and very charming, but all the same...).  The grocery store has been enlarged, a blessing, but I can't find anything in it without wandering for what seems like hours.  The butcher has been replaced by a bistro that is so new it doesn't yet have a name or any customers.  But this is Paris, after all, and no great city stands still.

My formula for getting over jet lag didn't work very well last week and it is now as hot as blue blazes -- but, I promise, that's it for complaints.

Notre Dame (view of south side)

I was very consoled by my visit to Notre Dame.  It is, of course, difficult to get close.  In the picture above, you can see the skeleton of the interior arch but no organ and no roof.  Another view from the side shows the extent of the scaffolding.  But behind that mesh screen on the right the rose window is still there and the flying buttresses are holding up the walls.  Some of the ideas for rebuilding (like using a glass roof) are quite breathtaking, so I feel genuinely heartened that all will be well.

What doesn't change in this great city is its art.  There are an astonishing number of special exhibits on at the moment and they are really remarkable.  It's likely that the rest of my blogging from Paris will be about this aspect of my visit more than the reunions with conversation partners or a lovely lunch with ex-pat friend Barbara Stickler and dinner with Seattle friends Doug Hurley and Sally Marks, whose visit overlapped mine for a few days, .

Joseph (1818-19)

My first stop this time was the Musée d'Orsay where there is an exhibit of Black Models: from Géricault to Matisse.  In addition to being an exploration of the use of black models by French artists, the exhibit also spoke to France's complicity in the slave trade and slavery; the role of blacks in French society; and changing attitudes and mores from the late 18th century to the early 20th.  I was ignorant of most of it.  For example, the French abolished slavery in the French colonies in 1794 but Napoleon re-established it in 1804 and it wasn't until 1848 that the Second Republic definitively ended the injustice.

Portrait by Matisse 

Artists were naturally caught up in the contradictions surrounding slavery.  One of the most striking studies by a 19th century artist was Géricault's portrait of a man named Joseph (above).  And there was another of a beautiful woman.  Both of these studies reveal the humanity and dignity of their subjects in a striking way.  New research is revealing who some of these models actually were.  Times and attitudes eventually changed.  The celebrated Alexander Dumas was the descendent of a black from the Caribbean who had fought for Napoleon and Matisse had a mixed race mistress.  By the 1920's Josephine Baker had arrived; blacks in French society occupied a very different place than blacks in the United States.

It was hard to tear myself away from this fascinating subject and exhibit, but there was another on at the same time at the d'Orsay: a gathering of the paintings of Berthe Morrisot (1841-1895).  She was one of the great Impressionist painters, though often overlooked because so much of her art concerned the intimate lives of women, the only part of her society to which she had ready access.  Nevertheless, she was a rebel whose brother-in-law Edouard Manet, introduced her to such friends as Degas, Renoir, Monet, Sisley and Pissarro.  She remained an important figure throughout her short life and I just love her work.  Here are some wonderful pieces from the exhibit.