(hanging) Lorraine Tady, BTT-TAR (96B), 1999, charcoal, ink, acrylic on paper; (tabletop) Professor Otto Poertzel’s Carrara marble bust previously discussed here

Lorraine Tady may seem a bit shy or reserved in person, but her work is not. I am not very good about using words to describe why I love a work of art, but I will try. This piece for its small size is packed with rich energy. The details and use of structural elements, which I have dealt with while restoring the inside and outside of my little home, speak to me. It may seem chaotic, but there’s a plan, there are layers, it’s going to work and why not have fun while we’re at it.

In Tady’s own words: In my work mechanical-like systems are subjected to or are participants in an indirect and formal examination of structure; or a subverted diagrammatic, engineering process. Parts are extracted, analyzed, and re-translated, using both digital and analog tools. I propose questions in the investigation and set up specific games, parameters and rules to respond to in the work’s progression. The language of line propels the work, and I use it to help make visible the parts, and to find the answer to ‘what connects to this, how is this connected to that, etc.

I own two more pieces by Tady which I blogged about in a previous post. They were part of a larger group, but I could only afford the two. They were created in 1995 and have a different sensibility from the one shown above.

All three of Tady’s pieces were purchased through Barry Whistler Gallery in Dallas, Texas. To find out more visit the gallery’s website and the artist’s website.

These coral bells were planted six weeks ago.

Heuchere villosa ‘Beaujolais’, commonly known as Coral Bells were chosen to replace the purple wandering jew that did not survive its first year in this location. Since the wandering jew did manage to come back this spring in a shadier portion of my garden, I can only guess that this small patch received too much sun. Additionally, I have chosen not to continue planting seasonal annuals. So the Coral Bells have been planted as perennials to replace the annuals and wandering jew.

Look but don’t touch. Well… that rule only applies to the carved ivory fan on the right. The ribbon threaded through the blades needs to be replaced before it can perform like it should.

One can never own too many hand fans. At least not here in Dallas. Perhaps you remember an earlier post of mine which showcased a few fans from my summer collection. I also have a winter collection which I will share with you at another time. I have found that unique, contemporary fans are hard to come by. Perhaps it’s because there isn’t much of a market for them. On the other hand, antique versions are plentiful online, so I’ve recently started collecting them. To see each one opened, click on the link below.

(above) In the seller’s words: “Antique 19th century brisé fan of blond horn intricately pierced with stylized floral motifs and elaborate tracery accented further by numerous steel sequin piqué inlay to the front.”

(above) This circa 1900 fan is made of hand painted silk with natural mother of pearl guards and sticks.

(above) Art Nouveau (circa 1880-1890) opera fan with black tulle fine net leaf and applied lace embellished with silver sequins and spangles. The sticks are undetermined natural or faux marbled shell.

(above) Art Deco advertising fan by French artist Gabriel Ferro. His signature appears in the lower right hand corner.

(above) The back side of the above fan is signed by a different artist and appears to be an ad for Galleries Lafayette. In tiny letters on the right edge are the words “Made in France 1926”.

After today’s tragedy, a garden can offer escape and a little beauty.

Firewitch Dianthus borders my greenhouse and blooms profusely this time of year. Because of a string of dingy days over the past two weeks, the flowers had been too soggy to photograph. Consequently they were a wee past their prime when I was finally able to shoot them this past Saturday. If I deadhead them after this cycle is finished, they’ll bloom again in the fall, but it won’t be as abundant as this springtime show.

You can click on the photo for a much larger version.

One last hurrah before our sweltering summer. I have now used all of the Irish turf and the old firewood. And while allowing the embers to cool, I will enjoy the smell of their smoky goodness which tends to linger in all corners of my house for at least a week. The following photos will show you two of those corners.

(above) This is the corner where Pauline Bonaparte resides.

(above) And this corner is the new home for my newly acquired marble bust.

Bunnies, 2012; one of a series of four; resin, metal leaf, enamel

Let me introduce you to the newest household ornament. It was a happy accident when I found this seven-inch-tall sculpture by John Gordon Gauld. A friend of mine sent me a link to a very cool website called Grey Area. Grey Area is the undefined space between art and design where art is made functional and the functional is made art, and this site’s mission is to present the best of what doesn’t quite fit within the traditional gallery experience.

This photo has the best color with excellent brightness and contrast. Not much adjusting was needed.

My little Texas Whitebud tree has never been a prolific bloomer and never photographs well overall with a regular camera lens. This time I used my macro lens. Even though the breeze kept moving the branches and I’m an amateur with this kind of lens, I did manage to get a few good shots. This little tree looks much better in a detailed close-up. To view more sweet details, click on the link below.

(above) Swaying branches are difficult to photograph. Notice how the individual flower has a pouch and resembles a Slipper orchid. Just a reminder: you can click on these photos to get a much larger version.

(above) The reason I’m including this photo is only because of the additional flowers populating the background.

In Edith Wharton’s day, those who had extensive collections of silver flatware patterns, a catalog such as this one, would have been extremely helpful in planning a dinner party.

This film is a visual feast of details with the dining experience playing a major role. From the table settings to the multiple courses, Martin Scorsese has meticulously recreated the lavish displays of Old New York society in the late Victorian era. When comparing Edith Wharton’s text with the film’s visuals, I was unable to identify the porcelain, silver, and crystal. Perhaps someone out there, who has happened to stumble onto this blog, will be able to identify some of the pieces and leave a comment with clues to their identity. Otherwise just enjoy the visuals.

(above) This and the next nine stills are of the dinner the van der Luydens gave for their cousin, the Duke of St. Austrey. (from the novel) “The van der Luydens had done their best to emphasise the importance of the occasion. The du Lac Sèvres and the Trevenna George II plate were out; so was the van der Luyden “Lowestoft” (East India Company) and the Dagonet Crown Derby.”

(above) The salmon is for the second course.

(above) Oysters on ice is the first course. There should be three forks in this scene. You’ll notice why if you study the still following the next one.

(above) Preparing each guest’s plate for the second course.

(above) I would love to know the identity of this porcelain. Perhaps this is the Dagonet [Royal] Crown Derby.

(above) I’m pretty sure that the two seated right in front of the centerpiece are placed far apart so that the audience can have an unobstructed view of this monumental flower arrangement.

(from the novel) “All the ladies had on their handsomest jewels, but it was characteristic of the house and the occasion that these were mostly in rather heavy old-fashioned settings; and old Miss Lanning, who had been persuaded to come, actually wore her mother’s cameos and a Spanish blonde shawl.”

(above) Sherbet was served in between courses to cleanse the palate.

(above) A long viewpoint of the table layout.

(from the novel) “The Countess Olenska was the only young woman at the dinner; yet, as Archer scanned the smooth plump elderly faces between their diamond necklaces and towering ostrich feathers, they struck him as curiously immature compared with hers. It frightened him to think what must have gone to the making of her eyes.”

(above) This still and the following six are of the informal business dinner at Mr. Letterblair’s home. Mr. Letterblair is Archer’s boss.

(from the novel) “Mr. Letterblair was a widower, and they dined alone, copiously and slowly, in a dark shabby room hung with yellowing prints of “The Death of Chatham” and “The Coronation of Napoleon.” On the sideboard, between fluted Sheraton knife-cases, stood a decanter of Haut Brion, and another of the old Lanning port (the gift of a client), which the wastrel Tom Lanning had sold off a year or two before his mysterious and discreditable death in San Francisco—an incident less publicly humiliating to the family than the sale of the cellar.”

(from the novel) “After a velvety oyster soup came shad and cucumbers…”

(above) I love the this table setting. It’s by far my favorite in the film.

(from the novel) “…then a young broiled turkey with corn fritters…”

(above) How can anybody eat so many courses in one seating?

(from the novel) “…followed by a canvas-back with currant jelly and a celery mayonnaise.”

(above) This still and the next two are from Archer’s second visit to Madame Olenska.

(from the novel) “On the bench in the hall lay a sable-lined overcoat, a folded opera hat of dull silk with a gold J. B. on the lining, and a white silk muffler: there was no mistaking the fact that these costly articles were the property of Julius Beaufort.”

(above) A gorgeous puff-embroidered monogram inside the folded opera hat.

(above) This still and the following six are of May and Newland’s wedding gifts.

(from the novel) “A stormy discussion as to whether the wedding presents should be “shown” had darkened the last hours before the wedding; and it seemed inconceivable to Archer that grown-up people should work themselves into a state of agitation over such trifles, and that the matter should have been decided (in the negative) by Mrs. Welland’s saying, with indignant tears: “I should as soon turn the reporters loose in my house.” Yet there was a time when Archer had had definite and rather aggressive opinions on all such problems, and when everything concerning the manners and customs of his little tribe had seemed to him fraught with world-wide significance.”

(above) The exquisite old lace was Ellen Olenska’s gift.

(above) So many expensive wedding gifts given in an era when returns and exchanges had not become a common practice.

(from the novel) “…and her mind rushed away instantly to the magnificent tea and coffee service of Baltimore silver which the Beauforts had sent, and which “went” so perfectly with uncle Lovell Mingott’s trays and side-dishes.”

(above) This porcelain pattern seems so very familiar, but after spending quite a bit of time researching online and in books, I was unable to identify it. It does seem a bit more eccentric and fanciful than what Old New York society would have approved of.

(above) The hand written card reads “Mr. and Mrs. Van der Luyden”. This surprises me because Edith Wharton describes the van der Luydens as staid and colorless.

(above) This still and the following five are from Newland and May Archer’s first formal dinner party as a married couple. Martin Scorsese chose not to show the entire meal, but instead we have skipped to the last course where the fanciful porcelain service we saw in the above photo is being used for dessert.

(above) Dates and candy coated almonds are used to supplement and extend the last course.

(from the novel) “But a big dinner, with a hired chef and two borrowed footmen, with Roman punch, roses from Henderson’s, and menus on gilt-edged cards, was a different affair, and not to be lightly undertaken. As Mrs. Archer remarked, the Roman punch made all the difference; not in itself but by its manifold implications—since it signified either canvas-backs or terrapin, two soups, a hot and a cold sweet, full décolletage with short sleeves, and guests of a proportionate importance.”

(above) I would love to know how the women extracted their hands out of their kid gloves without another person’s help. I’ve worn long kid gloves, but never knew that this was the practice for a formal dinner.

(above) Another shot of the table and its sweets.

(from the novel) “As his glance travelled from one placid well-fed face to another he saw all the harmless-looking people engaged upon May’s canvas-backs as a band of dumb conspirators, and himself and the pale woman on his right as the centre of their conspiracy. And then it came over him, in a vast flash made up of many broken gleams, that to all of them he and Madame Olenska were lovers, lovers in the extreme sense peculiar to “foreign” vocabularies. He guessed himself to have been, for months, the centre of countless silently observing eyes and patiently listening ears, he understood that, by means as yet unknown to him, the separation between himself and the partner of his guilt had been achieved, and that now the whole tribe had rallied about his wife on the tacit assumption that nobody knew anything, or had ever imagined anything, and that the occasion of the entertainment was simply May Archer’s natural desire to take an affectionate leave of her friend and cousin.”

(above) I included this still because of the beautiful bustle detail of her dress.

(from the novel) “It was the room in which most of the real things of his life had happened. There his wife, nearly twenty-six years ago, had broken to him, with a blushing circumlocution that would have caused the young women of the new generation to smile, the news that she was to have a child…”

The wildlife has already started to feed on the grape-like fruit clusters.

The Leatherleaf Mahonia (Mahonia japonica ‘Bealei’). Well… It’s still winter officially, that is until tomorrow, but there’s ripe fruit ready for the pickin’ in my front garden. This shrub bloomed in January, but since I photographed and wrote about its blooms last year, I didn’t want to bore you with a repeat of what you’ve seen before. In fact, this year I have not bothered to photograph any of my winter bloomers until now, since their annual cycle has been covered at least twice before on this blog.

Ajuga reptans ‘Valfredda’ Chocolate Chip

My Chocolate Chip Ajuga is quite the show right now. It’s planted in both my front and back gardens in and around my stepping stones where there is shade. Eventually the clumps will spread by stolons and weave a tight mat of foliage. Depending on the amount of sunlight, the leaves are a mix of rich chocolate-purple and green, but the color will deepen in more sun. This ground cover was planted less than a year ago and may take at least another year to lose its clump-like look and spread into an uninterrupted blanket of foliage. To see a larger expanse of this plant, click on the link below.

(above) As you can see, the plants are still in their clump phase. There are a few areas where the newly planted Ajuga did not survive, because it didn’t have time to become established before our brutal summer. I will replant those areas, and hopefully, this summer won’t be as bad as the last two.