Venice in Black & White & November

At the mere mention that high winds are expected later today, the power is starting to go in & out. I'm serious--the wind has not kicked up yet. So here are three photographs by an old friend from Strasbourg days. He took these on a trip to Venice in a November. The little boy's name is unknown. Trying to think how old he'd be now is making my head hurt. Ahem. The photographer & friend (it's not me but I've not asked her permission yet so I'm not showing a third that focuses on her) are very sporting about the pigeons. Bernd claims that he remained unscathed during this shoot. I called him a liar (on Facebook!) & as usual he took massive teasing with equanimity.

Bernd was prescient about taking photos in Venice (& France, Germany, Switzerland) that many of us would value so much later. I hereby apologize publicly for all the times I rolled my eyes when asked to stand still...for a second. Or two. I am now painfully aware of how obnoxious I look when exasperated. See here for explanation...or I'll just tell you. I unwittingly took a video of myself trying to figure out the web camera. It's excruciating but I saved it as a reminder. (Here's a link to a digital library of World War II photographs, including Venice.)

As black & white as these are, I think they are very warm. I like that they are not super-sharp. They are much, much larger in their original print. (Venice in November by Bernd Krause)

Every Leaf a Flower

Camus' view of autumn--Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower. How very cheerful, really. (I won't hold that against him, though I'm beyond crabby.) It's still mostly green here, the odd yellow leaf blowing past. This beautiful photograph uses the Orton effect (see here) & was taken in Germany by the generous Olga. I was going to sneak political & social commentary in but Arts & Letters Daily is not making it easy. (I saw something interesting & cannot access it within the minutes I allow self to do this sort of thing.) Oh well. I can whip up & fold in sneaky links any time. (You can enjoy the photograph much more on Olga's flickr stream.)

Reminder: Don't forget about this dress design contest. I cannot stress enough: you just have to have a good idea & sketch a bit. You don't have to sew it, make a pattern, etc. Shabby Apple Dresses, Dare to Design. The competition ends Friday, 15 October. Then we'll vote.

What I'd Be

without you. Racing over here to see "who"? Not yet. On a summer (it still is) play-list, blaring out of a teensy speaker is God Only Knows. Trust me, it's very cool in a mix. Julie swoons every time that song, Bus Stop or Try & Catch the Wind play. She's such a flower child-cat. At the same time, she enjoys the remastered Exile on Main Street. She's super cool in a friendly way & I wish I were more like her.

No, the subject is - what would I be without having flown many years ago, 16 September, at age 17* to Strasbourg, France. (via Luxembourg. Alone, baby, alone.) It's not that I regret our fast communication & info tech. It would have made a huge difference in my life some years later in the Middle East--for the better, possibly saved some lives. I don't pine for the good old days; they weren't always so good upon further examination. Anyway, as nervous as I was, I had to make the decisions on my own. That made me more confident, or at least damn nervier, than most 17-18 year old people today. Listen, I was never going to have much support no matter where I went or lived. (Material support? None. So before I receive more messages of "you had money, you grew up with..." No I did not. (This part is To Be Continued.)

I knew there weren't too many chances in life. If you think that's pessimistic, I would say it's realistic. You get a chance, you damn well better take it. Sometimes you can create an opportunity--but it's not all you, a lot depends on fate (or whatever you want to call it), other people, world events. (BTW, I'm not a fan of taking advantage of another person & calling that an opportunity.) That's why I went to Strasbourg & not to Paris.

Honestly, this whole enterprise is beyond ridiculous without a camera. These because the girl has a tripod & she's dressed in a manner similar to 1970s non-awfulness. (It wasn't all bad.) I wore hats & still do, but I don't think I had one this floppy. The rest are for-real Strasbourg photographs. The second one, it's the real place & it's a pigeonnier, close to the Rhine where I used to walk (approaching it through the other shot, which is a wheat field surrounded by the Strasbourg forest).

I have to break this up into parts. And then fix them. Bear with me. There are lots of great links here & on Julie's blog, Giulia Geranium. The Clever Pup is pondering Paris & has some current, good information on hotels. She researches this stuff to a fare-thee-well...so take advantage of it. Also, Liberty of London Girl's London Fashion Week Survival Kit giveaway is on until Thursday, 23 September. I still don't know if it's only for UK visitors, so enter anyway. It's fun to read the posts in between hideous world news bulletins. For those worried about Tea Party Poopers & assorted lunatics (if not, wow, wake up), The Political Carnival is my favorite place to check in. I rely on Laffy & Paddy to keep my spirits up, too. They are stylish, tweeting troublemakers.

(*soon to be 18 but I still love that I turned 18 in France. I'm hopeless about it, just let me have that, OK? Merci.)

Leonor in Black & White

That is, painter Leonor Fini (1907-1996) born in Argentina, raised in Trieste, & lived in Paris. Her traumatic early life as a pawn of warring parents on different continents couldn't have helped, surely hurt this person. What makes me laugh is that though considered a Surrealist, ah non, she refused the 'honor'. But of course, that didn't annoy the Surrealists. Her personal wild style apparently rivaled only Dali. Now that, might interest some of you. (I'm not a big Wikipedia fan but this page seems fairly good.)

No time, nor energy to write something as The Clever Pup [right sidebar] surely would, but I want to post the photographs before some wild thunderstorm arrives. Here is an excellent summation from the Leonor Fini page on Lenin Imports. The photographs are via the LIFE Archives (John Phillips, 1947) & Museo Revoltella. On that site, there are pages for a Fini exhibit in 2009 . Also an interview (in Italian). The third photograph reminds me of an old Bedouin in North Africa. Not sure if that was what she was going for, but it seems so. But I'm in that desert-frame-of-mind. So.

Oh, yes, Leonor also loved cats but possibly took this too far.

Week's End - Anouk in Black & White

La Dolce Vita still. Good luck finding the still photographer. Maybe Fellini took it. Here's the link to the full credits.

Week's End - Woman at the Window

Salvador Dali's 1925 painting at the Philadelphia Museum of Art via Artcyclopedia. The Dali print is in my bath & the plumber is entranced by it. (I think it's the colors, he's not quite sure yet.) Meanwhile, he feels that I am unhealthily fixated on the photograph & that it does not belong next to the Dali. While noting his opinion, I respectfully disagree. Mostly so I'll stop thinking about the subject. I hope. Good night.

[The photograph via we heart it from an unidentified tumblr blog, here]

Dim-out Fashion

A way to divert attention away from one's waistline. And making do...[Andreas Feininger photo essay in LIFE archives/1943]

Magic Casements

Poetry should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance. --John Keats

"Oh fer cryin' out loud, stop with the Keats." Well, no. I was rereading the odes last night, particularly Nightingale...& it's his birthday. What a good excuse to put in some stills from Jane Campion's Bright Star. (The blueandpurple is swoony.) Click on the Bright Star link...it's Jane Campion's interactive production site--storyboards, rehearsal video, production design images, & the like. I still search for photographs of the director's cat, Topper who plays, well, the Cat. (He's a brilliant scene stealer.)

From today's The Writer's Almanac:

It's the birthday of the poet John Keats, (books by this author) born in London (1795), who was just starting his career as a poet in 1818 when a series of brutally negative reviews of his first two books appeared. And then, that same year, Keats learned that his brother was dying of tuberculosis. Keats spent the last few months of 1818 taking care of his brother, who died a few weeks before Christmas. In the wake of his brother's death, Keats moved into a duplex with a friend, and in the other half of the duplex lived a beautiful 18-year-old girl named Fanny Brawne, who became the love of his life. He declared his love to her soon after they met, but he decided not to marry her until he'd secured his reputation as a great poet.

Enemies, A Love Story

Saw it again, only the second time. I forgot how good it is; here's the NYTimes review. Also, dragged the book off the shelf, to re-read. You want a scary Hallowe'en story? Oy. Real life is scary enough. Many people just do not get it. (I just looked at some blogs/sites for images--there aren't many.) Oh well. Life is stranger than...etcetera. (You will also laugh--out loud.)

[photographs via scoopy]

Week's End - Albert in Black & White

Camus, A Romance by Elizabeth Hawes is quite enjoyable. Here's an amusing review about literary obsession. Back to work.

Update: That's it. The end. (I mean for the week.)

bonne nuit

[molto famoso photograph by H. Cartier-Bresson/Magmum; other photographs of Camus at work & play by Loomis Dean via LIFE archives]