Byrne on Burton

I cannot explain how I ended up on the Irish Times website reading Gabriel Byrne's remembrance of Richard Burton/review of Furious Love. A visit to a few Irish newspaper sites & there is Byrne at every turn; he was appointed Ireland's cultural ambassador (to the States) earlier this year.

Studiously ignoring the baking of cookies, the cleaning of the apt. More fun to read things like "a flame of love never quenched...". I'm just teasing...it's a quick & interesting read--especially the anecdote about a dinner in Vienna with Olivier, Burton, Gielgud, & Richardson.

(The photograph is from The Burtons tumblr. I saw it earlier this year but it seemed more of a winter thing. There's an amusing entry about the meeting of a bellhop & Burton, here.)

Week's End - Strangers in the Night

Well, this works on a few levels. (See previous post, sleep clinics) Have a terrific weekend. There are oodles, yes oodles, of great links on this page, Julie's blog, & just keep on clicking to those blogs. Over & out, cheeky ones. (photographs from Truman Capote's Black & White Ball, 1966/via LATimes & Cup of Jo, second is by Harry Benson)

Saturday update - Liberty London Girl is having a London Fashion Week giveaway that is just wonderful. It doesn't say for UK readers only, so I left a comment. It might be though. There are several lovely Brits who visit here & I thought you would be interested. Cheers. xo

Update - the computer is acting up again . One program says, "A-OK, ma'am." The other is flashing weird red signs & I expect a siren to start up any moment. &^*I*^T^! Anyhoo, if you leave a comment & it doesn't show up, I am not ignoring them. Must take laptop to be spot-cleaned, washed, fluffed & folded on the weekend. Someone invent a Virus-Designer-Dudes-Be-Gone spray. Or something.

Atonement

"Was everyone else really as alive as she was? For example, did her sister really matter to herself, was she as valuable to herself as Briony was? Was being Cecilia just as vivid an affair as being Briony? Did her sister also have a real self concealed behind a breaking wave, and did she spend time thinking about it, with a finger held up to her face? Did everybody, including her father, Betty, Hardman? If the answer was yes, then the world, the social world, was unbearably complicated, with two billion voices, and everyone’s thoughts striving in equal importance and everyone’s claim on life as intense, and everyone thinking they were unique, when no-one was." --From Atonement, by Ian McEwan

Some pretty photographs for the next few days & I hope they will divert bizarre people away from my blogs. I'm being comment-spammed like mad. Found out last evening that my mailing address has been changed (for some things, not sure of extent yet) & much is missing.

I do not apologize for one single thing I have said or written (or thought) the last several days & weeks here...certainly I have much to atone for in my life. But my crime of late, if anything, is silliness. Which never killed anyone. Unless they died laughing. If I die laughing, many years from now (!), I shall be grateful.

I shall respond to your lovely comments & emails. Soon. Difficult week (more than usual) ahead. Cheers, everyone.

[Atonement stills by Alex Bailey - the "happy ending" Briony, in her guilt, her atonement, granted to Cecilia & Robbie. I just reread the novel.]

Week's End - What a Dream I Had

...that tulle-clad, I rushed across the street & fixed the power grid myself. This is also to acknowledge a lovely man-child (at the time) who made this his song for me (& sang it) when he walked me around the chilly forests of Alsace, often late at night. Also rambles on the grounds of a château, close to the Rhine. Yes, we even heard the Cathedral bells, though not the Lorelei. It's the anniversary of a very difficult day & so I thank him. (Yes, too sentimental. Oh well.) Update: better quality video, here.

Continuing unexplained power outages. No one is telling us/answering our questions.

Juliet & Giulia

Yesterday, I worried that I would have to walk on the beach in my long white nightgown (if the gigantic gauze bandage idea doesn't work out). Today, I have many errands & writing "The Care & Feeding of Julie" for my friend Susan, who valiantly volunteered to stay here while I'm away. I won't be away long. It's that Julie (aka Giulia, Giulietta) has always been with me wherever I go. Susan asked me, "What can I do so that you will go away & not worry?" She has so many things to do & places she has to be in the next days/months. But she still wanted to help the drama queen sitting across the conference table. Gulp.

Earlier that day, the subject of a Romeo & Juliet film came up--not sure how. Susan reached into the air, snapping her fingers, oh I love the one, I haven't seen it in so long, by by by & I said, "Oh, Franco Zeffirelli's. He's an opera director, too." (I'm trying to ignore that he joined the Forza Italia party--ugh. Let's hope he sees the error of his ways.) Olivia Hussey inspired me to grow my hair (very long) & as often happens, drama turned to comedy.

A few years later, I returned from France with headaches. Many doctor visits, tests. Diagnosis: this girl's hair is too long & heavy. She's rather small, how does she hold her head up? (Well, that was unnecessary, Il Signore Dottore. Harumph.) Remedy: Off with her hair. I wanted to shriek, but all the boys love my hair. No, I would never have said it. I was stoic.

Today, quite by coincidence, one of my best blog friends, the inimitable Tina Tarnoff has posted "My Favorite Juliet" Some of you know about the Sylvie Guillem ballerina papercut Tina sent as a surprise last holiday time. Also, her husband Terry Tarnoff has a fascinating account of his years as an expatriate, here. Terry is at work on a new novel, set in 1948; Tina is helping with research & is coming up with fabulous images. And entertaining the rest of us, too. What a pair (but not tragic, thank goodness)!

Mille grazie & baci to Susan for looking after my Giulietta.

PS: That lovely, beautiful boy who played Romeo, Leonard Whiting, is so often ignored. That's not nice; here's a fansite for both of them that passes the no-pop up/spam test (according to McAfee).

[photograph via an unidentified tumblr/we heart it]

Bloomsday Wedding

In your pink wool knitted dress / Before anything had smudged anything / You stood at the altar. Bloomsday--Ted Hughes

I've been writing a remembrance of the only Molly Bloom (to me), Siobhán McKenna. Difficult to edit in time, though, & I want to post a photograph. So I thought, yes, well this will do nicely--a 54-year anniversary. I don't think of it as a failed marriage, actually. Wanted to link to the Hughes poem but it is not an easy task to find one without the requisite "He killed her" business. Then we get to the matter of photographs; same unsavory stuff. There is not a photograph--or if there is I don't remember & am too lazy to look through my bookshelves. The one that stands in on many websites is actually from a Paris honeymoon, before a Spanish summer (about which Plath wrote vividly in her notebooks, including good sketches/drawings.) This chandelier looks very celebratory out there in what I think of as a meadow, edged with darker woods.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out whether or not to take Julie to the beach overnight (soon). This is a sudden & welcome question & possibility.

[chandelier by Leigh Miller Photography via we heart it ]

Week's End - Possibilities

Some men give up their designs when they have almost reached the goal; While others, on the contrary, obtain a victory by exerting, at the last moment, more vigorous efforts than ever before.--Herodotus

Go US v. England, today at 2pm EDT. (Well, we won in 1950, I hear. I wasn't born yet.) Go Azzurri on Monday. I saw the Italians play Mexico in the 1994 World Cup quarterfinals here in Washington, DC. I still have my l'il plastic Il Tricolore. Yes, it is possible to be a romantic & love sport. I am aware of the corporate-hyena stuff, spare me. You must understand that I look at these events through the prism of my Western classical academic training. Ahem. And it is stress relief of the first order.

Speaking of stress relief...American ex-pat in Italia, Michelle Fabio of Bleeding Espresso (visit her!) posted this hilarious Daily Show clip from Thursday's show on Facebook. John Oliver is just determined to undermine the Americans on behalf of the Brits. (It's funny whether you like football/soccer - or not.)

[photograph - a rugby footballer kissing his wife (or girlfriend) by the wonderful Australian photographer Sam Hood, 1934]

That's Richard & Elizabeth to You

& me. Not Liz & Dick! Some of Richard Burton's love letters to Elizabeth Taylor are in the July 2010 Vanity Fair. This is not news, I know. I look forward to receiving my copy; yes, I take it, don't judge! (With the hideous images, descriptions of human rights abuses I have to read & gaze upon...eye candy is what I need, baby.) When there is a highly-publicized VF cover, sometimes it does not arrive in my mailbox. (Grace Kelly arrived in May, so I have hope.) Monday night update: nope not here; it's on the stands. Hmmm.

I can't believe I'm posting these but the couple loomed large when I was little. Anyway, the "Liz & Dick," "Dick & Liz" is annoying. When one is preoccupied with more important matters, small things can grate. So that's my excuse to post photographs of them. (Yes, of course it's also because Burton was Welsh.)

Very few images are attributed, oddly. Some of the black & white are by Gjon Mili in LIFE archives; the others are from The Burtons - a tumblr blog. It's fun, pay a visit. And though there's a super-mushy song playing behind it, here's a well-done, high quality YouTube tribute to E&R. Very clear & beautiful photographs, many I'd not seen before. So on a June Monday, have a little fun.

Dancing in France

A well-known photograph by photojournalist Paul Almásy (1906-2003), Rock 'n' Roll sur les Quais de Paris but I want to get June on the road here. The last thing I feel like is dancing but I could be persuaded by just the right (or wrong) sort. I love the second photograph, too, so I'm including it though they're not dancing; maybe just a little break. It's about 1948 in Paris. Everyone can make up their own story.

I just noticed the third image in my folder--an atmospheric (short-hand for 'messed up':) shot of Audrey Hepburn & Fred Astaire rehearsing a dance in France. Can't resist putting it in--yes, Funny Face by Avedon via Audrey1.org.

[Here is the Almásy archive, owned by akg-images. If you just have to have a copy of Rock 'n' Roll, there are some on sale at allposters (dot) com.]

One Too Many Mornings

Happy Birthday, Bob Dylan, you cranky cuss. I was slow off the mark (again!) & La Clever Pup beat me to it. Here's her post Not Dark Yet.

The image here is via BabyBlueOnline. The longish quote because the painter deserves credit (though only the painter's sibling is named. Hmmm.).

"One of our regulars here at the cafe, Dabney Oakley, has sent us a painting done by his sister in 1964. The story is that a "'Bob Zimmerman' was visiting a friend at Randolph-Macon Womans College in Lynchburg. Not looking like the usual prepsters from Hampden-Sydney, Washington & Lee, or UVa, he was asked to 'sit' for a 'Studio Portrait Class.' The portrait shown was done by my sister. I'm sure there are others 'out there,' too."

Would love to know more about those paintings (that college isn't far from here & friends teach/have taught there). Alas, one more cup of coffee is needed on this new morning. (OK, I'll stop.) Still, hey painter lady--get in touch.

Some years ago I attended a Dylan birthday party (no, he wasn't there). My then-newish boyfriend looked at me in muted horror (it's possible, believe me. He was a diplomat's son from a Byzantine culture - well, that's redundant. Levantine with the Byzantine diplomatic background overlay.) I assured him the tiny harmonicas thrust at us upon arrival were party favors, nothing more. He parked himself in a corner with Dylan (the Resident Cat) & fiddled around with the plastic. An hour later, he played something (don't remember what). Not bad though, not bad at all.

Outbound Plane

I don't wanna be standin' here/Don't wanna be talkin' here/And I don't really care who's to blame/'Cause if love won't fly on it's own/Free will/It's gonna catch that outbound plane.-Nanci Griffith & Tom Russell

I have to cool things down from last night. Do a search for "oasis" & most of what pops up quickly are those copycat, feuding Gallagher brothers. New-to-me-scanner/printer soon. Meanwhile...I wish I had my own environmentally-selfish plane this afternoon. This is via myvintagevogue, a terrific site. See you later.

The Little Italian Mouse

Whaddya mean you love Topo Gigio? Socialist!

[Jean Seberg & non-Italian mouse from The Mouse That Roared, here.]

Week's End - Love Minus Zero/No Limit

Song lyrics & photo have no connection. The title popped into my head & it won't go away. Hate when that happens. Good weekend to all. [Blue snow in Vermont photograph by Paul Moody]

Welcome to England, he said...

..you better bring your own sun...

Update: forget it. Even the small YouTube format is too large & it's annoying me already. If you want to see it, go here.

Ages ago I connected these photographs with the song &...other things--instantly. That's all I'm saying about going to & leaving England here. [This YouTube version of Tori Amos on Craig Ferguson's show has a somewhat darker, heavier sound than the album's; I like both, but that's why I include it & not the one from her website.] And yes, I can now watch videos & the like. I can see how someone might still be in their pj's & braids & goofy glasses late of a Saturday afternoon (uh, early evening) when they have the ability to download an iTune in 20 seconds vs. an hour (I kid you not). Must watch that.

The computer is no longer dial-up (well, the laptop isn't, working on the desktop) nor on the edge-of-a-nervous breakdown...so I have to think up another excuse for this mess & lack of header photo or image & ridiculous subtitle.

[Photographs are by generous Nick Bartoletti who is in Seattle, not England. From his Clise Mansion shoot. The gown is featured in The Fuse-Blower post/ reminiscence if it looks familiar.]

Party Dress

Go, and never darken my towels again. Groucho Marx

I can't help it (about silly Marx business, etc, it's a sickness.) Housekeeping, blog & home.

1) I want to move on from the somberness of the Taj Mahal post & take comments again; 2) this photograph reminds me of someone, ahem, being all dressed up for a fabulous time with real friends (not the air-kiss, embassy kind) & being told once again (by the same guy)...something has come up...somewhere-else-in-the-world-more-important-than-you-will-ever-be. For the 1,000th time This tulle-clad person usually never complained about dashed plans, but will admit to sliding down a wall onto a slightly dirty kitchen floor in a big floofy dress in disappointment.. For about an hour. Not in front of anyone, though. Ever. (OK, two cats.)

and 3) Most Important...

...Jessica aka myvintagevogue has (or will by July's end) closed her flickr account for good. They've given her no end of trouble & I don't know how she stood it as long as she did. Her tumblr blog is in the right sidebar.. I'll add her Blogger site & her website once I get the categories all straightened out. I've been replacing links as time permits from her flickr sets to her website and/or tumblr blog. MEANWHILE, please visit Jessica at the gorgeous myvintagevogue website.

And now, I have spent over an hour looking for the photograph attribution. Because I did not include it in the title when I downloaded it ages ago. Rats. Double rats. I'll find it tomorrow--while I'm waiting for the carpet cleaning fairies to spirit away the hideous-mess-masquerading-as-Persian-rug & return it minus the colonies of criminy-knows-what in the silk/wool. Then I'll become one of those women who make people take off their shoes. I'll just pretend that I'm back, elsewhere...where everyone does that anyway.

Hope your weekends were great.

[Norman Parkinson photograph of Jean Patchett via myvintagevogue]

Ayelet's Essay - A True Story

A writer friend just sent out a link to her essay for The Huffington Post, titled A Modicum of Dr. George Tiller's Courage. I have been remiss in linking her banner & new book on the site. As I said I would do, oh, a few months ago. I hope you will read what Ayelet has to say. She makes it quite clear that it is "Our Story" -- meaning with her husband.

This is necessarily quick; I half-fainted yesterday (not at home, egad), so I'm grounded & cannot go a panel on Jerusalem as scheduled today. The iris because they're Ayelet's favorite (or used to be...OK, she just said, link away & didn't mention any disaffection with iris, so here we go.) Mother's day flowers by the lovely George Brett, a local photographer.

Couple in Black & White

Couple by Ernest Haas of the great Magnum Agency. It's a scan (& cropped) of the UK edition of Richard Ford's Women With Men. Great collection. Paris plays a role, if you've not read it, but not the way romantics might like. Or might. Disappointed ones. (Is there any other kind? Seriously, I'm asking.) An obnoxious novelist, an ex-, snickered derisively when he saw I had Ford on my shelves. "Women hate him. He's a men's writer." Huh? No one told me. I should have known right then. Would've saved five years. But that's another photograph.

I think the photograph is from a series but haven't had time to look.

PS: Trying to break my OCD should-have-post-ready for 7am publish-next-day, no matter what. Here's hoping.

Week's End - Love in Black & White

Have a lovely weekend. I continue to move things around, build, & bricoler...ciao.photograph via {this is glamorous}