A little musical interlude...

Line Renaud: "Le Hully Gully"

Even though winter over here has mostly been everything i could possibly wish it to be, so far, freezing cold and dry; i constantly find myself dreaming of swaying palmtrees and oppressive heat, or maybe just a gentle, warm breeze... oh, and those gorgeous french dancers, in their trunks wouldn't be unwelcome either,
a pity they must all be in their 70s by now.

I adore these scopitones, precursors of the music video. Apparently these machines, invented in France in the second half of the 1950s, were made out of parts from discarded flying machines, a sort of jukebox. How i'd love to have one! -thankfully you can get several videos assembled on dvd's here. -or you can find tons to watch on youtube...


Hope to be back soon with posts, as i've said a hundred times before.
See you soon ...if you're still here.

Collage.

Last weekend a friend arranged a little collage-workshop at her office. The theme was nature and it's different aspects; the devastating, the tamed, the tropical, the bountiful etc... I got to do the occult/magical nature.
I had almost forgotten how much fun collaging was!

(click to enlarge)

Happy Saint Cecilia's day!

Saint Cecilia by Carlo Saraceni

Today we celebrate Saint Cecilia, martyr and patroness of sacred music, and of all musicians.

William Boyce - Ode on St. Cecilia's day.

A gloomy anniversary.

Yesterday it was five years ago since my mother passed away, aged 64.

It didn't feel any different from any other day of course, i just thought it worth noticing, and simply saw it as an excuse to write a new post, the first in months. As i've said before... I would post more often, but time always escapes me, and i can never think of what to write. I detest time, and how it just relentlessly swoops by.
And now five years have passed since that awful day, -the worst i've ever experienced.

I both wish to be close in time to when she was still alive, yet i want to have that horrific event as far behind me as possible.
So yesterday i simply lit a few candles and sprayed a little Mitsouko, her signature scent -the only one she ever wore, in the air. That was all i could do.

Mother, photographed by my father, possibly in the early eighties.

with Moa, about a year before she died, photographed by me.

La Question

One of Françoise Hardy's most beautiful songs; "La Question", from 1971.

"I do not know who you might be

I do not know who you hope for,
I always seek to know you
and your silence disturb my silence

I do not know where from the lie comes
is it your voice that is silent?
worlds where despite myself I plunge into
are like a tunnel that frightens me

your distance from mine
we get lost too often,
and seeking to understand you
is like chasing the wind.

I do not know why I stay
in a sea where I drown
I do not know why I stay
in an air that suffocates me

you're the blood of my wound,
you are the flame of my fire,
you are my unanswered question
My muted cry and my silence..."

Indochine, mon amour!

I'm shocked, but mostly exhilarated! -this is exactly the kind of news i've been longing and pining for for so long; Marguerite Duras' "Un Barrage contre le pacifique" or "The Sea Wall" (1950) has been made into a movie! (another, based on the same novel, was made in the 1950s, but it's too awful!) -and with one of my favorite actresses of all time; Isabelle Huppert!
But how on earth could I not know about this?!


Directed by the cambodian Rithy Panh and a collaboration between France, Cambodia and Belgium. "The Sea Wall" is set in 1930s Cambodia, then part of French Indochina -where A French widow, played by Huppert, lives with her son and daughter. They make a meager living from growing rice, but their paddies are just on the border of the sea and flooded each year and the crops ruined. So their only hope appears to be in constructing a sea wall. The mother persists and will not give up, fighting nature as well as colonial bureaucracy.


Her 20-year-old son Joseph (Gaspard Ulliel), an irascible young man, is equally determined, but it's the teenaged daughter Suzanne (Astrid Bergés-Frisbey) who proves to be most stubborn. One day, her willowy beauty catches the attention of a well-to-do, foppish Chinese man; Monsieur Jo. As his interest in Suzanne verges toward obsession, her mother and brother find themselves in a quandary: Monsieur Jo could provide the financial security they need, but he is Chinese, and racial prejudice is a fact of life in their society...


So now i can't wait to get to see this beauty-orgy! A pity though that it doesn't seem to have been up for theatrical release anywhere and that i's been released practically without fanfare, just shown at some festivals. I'm going to have to make do with the dvd, ...whenever it pleases to arrive!

Anyway; Here's the trailer:


Asia, and the southeast in particular, has been a long-standing fascination with me, and a favorite destination of escape -even though i've never been there. -except for in my dreams... through books, like "the Gentleman in the parlour" (1930) by W. Somerset Maugham, or films such as "The Scent of Green papaya" or "Indochine" with Catherine Deneuve, and "the Lover"-based on another novel by Duras; "l'Amant"...And through music, tea -naturally... countless travelling magazines... -the lush landscapes, the warmth, dense jungles, tribes and ancent civilizations, the old temples of the Khmers... All those places where i've always drifted away in my thoughts... -and of course; through food!

Delicious vietnamese dishes at Monsieur Vuong in Berlin.
The famous Halong Bay, Vietnam - still from "Indochine"."The Gate of Humanity" in Huế.

Buddhist nun at Angkor Wat, Cambodia. Photo by David Wilmot 19th Century, french engraving of the Bayon Temple, Angkor
Angkor Thom Photo: Marc Riboud - (c) Musée GuimetAngkor Thom - Photo by Émile Gsell - (c )Musée Guimet (above)

Traditional Khmer dancers in front of Angkor Wat, Cambodia - 1920s.

And another favorite, as a bonus - the gorgeous trailer for Wong Kar Wai's equally gorgeous film "In the Mood For Love" (2001); -set to Bryan Ferry's beautiful version of the song that gave the film it's name.


"The Sea Wall" images; (c) Catherine Dussart Productions CDP

If i were...

Just a little diversion. I Was browsing through back issues of one of my favorite blogs; Paris Parfait where i found this and just had to fill it in myself. So much fun! Now;
Do it you too!


If I were a month, I'd be May.

If I were a day, I’d be Saturday.

If I were a time of day, I’d be morning.

If I were a font, I’d be Garamond.

If I were a sea animal, I’d be a Naga in the ocean of milk.

If I were a direction, I’d be southeast.

If I were a piece of furniture, I'd be a Secretaire.

If I were a liquid, I’d be in a bottle by Baccarat.

If I were a gemstone, I'd be Lapis Lazuli.

If I were a tree, I’d be an ancient oak.

If I were a tool, I’d be a pencil.

If I were a flower, I’d be a carnation.

If I were an element of weather, a gust of wind.

If I were a musical instrument, I’d be a Harpsichord.

If I were a color, I’d be coral.

if i were an emotion, I’d be agitation.

If I were a fruit, I’d be an orange.

If I were a sound, I’d be the rustle of leaves.

If I were an element, I’d be water.

If I were a car, I’d be horse-drawn.

If I were a food, I’d be an omelet with chopped chives and parsley, served with crusty sourdough bread.

If I were a place, I’d be a lush garden.

If I were material, I’d be velvet.

If i were a taste, I’d be Fenghuang Dancong-tea.

If I were a scent, I’d be shalimar.

If I were a body part, I’d be a hand.

If I were a song, I'd be "Cloudbusting" by Kate Bush.

If I were a bird, I’d be a magpie.

If I were a gift, I’d be french.

If I were a city, I’d be ancient and european.

If I were a door, I’d be locked from the inside.

If I were a pair of shoes, I’d be embroidered velvet slippers.

If I were a poem, I’d be by Thomas Gray.

A sign of life -and a little talk of death.

Summer just exploded in my face, and now it's almost over. Luckily i am very much of an autumn-person, even though i adore all seasons -even winter if circumstances are right... -and as last winter was so remarkably cold -albeit with many beautiful, perfect Narnia-days -i just longed so badly for summer; and during the spring -which was rather an extension of the winter -if it weren't for the budding trees one might have thought it was mid november. -and now summer is nearly over; a summer that has been unusually warm, sunny and lovely when swedish summers are often known to mostly rain away.

I hope -as i've said a hundred times before -to at last be able to post more frequently here, i hope to finally get my cluttered apartment tidy, -it has become a veritable mayhem of piles of papers, half-filled bin bags full of assorted trash and wobbly towers of books, cds and dvds -even dishes which feels so nasty!-very Grey Gardens; minus cats, raccoons and Jackie O.

Time has -as it usually tends to do- slipped mercilessly through my fingers, and i've been battling slight bouts of depression and haven't had the peace of mind to tend to anything, -i haven't even drawn for months, no, years!

Early in the spring, my dad moved into a nursing home which has been a terrible ordeal. -not to mention watching his alzheimers - or whatever it is, he hasn't been diagnosed - advancing more and more; he used to at least have some moments of clarity. -but at least i'm sort of prepared for it, and it has been a long drawn-out process- not like it was with my mother who, aged 64, went from her old brilliant self to a hapless spectre within just a few days, before she passed away. That was a shock i still haven't quite recovered from, even now, five years later.


I hope you like my new look and my new header -a picture of my mother and her first "mother in law" -probably taken by her then-boyfriend in the spring of 1966 in her little apartment -which was in the attic of a rustic 18th century building with no electricity or running water, where she cooked on a wood-fired iron stove, and might've sat and enjoyed a cup of lapsang souchong in the light of a kerosene-lamp.

She loved it there and lived there for the rest of her life -even though she later moved across the yard -where I was to grow up...



Me with mum, (above). Me, aged 5 (below).

Hope to be back soon. See you!

the Castle of Engsö.

Last tuesday I, my friend K, her "sister in law" L and their respective infants Joni and Ingrid, went out to Engsö castle -one of my favourite places on earth. It's situated on a peninsula a two hour-drive west of Stockholm and so beautiful it almost makes you feel as though you're in a painting by Constable, complete with grazing cows.

The castle was built around the late 15th century, "glammed-up" in the 1620s and again in the 1740s when the fourth floor was added and it got much of the appearance it still has today. The architect was Carl Hårleman (1700-1753) one of swedens leading architects at the time.

In spite of being one of the moste beautiful places in the nation Engsö is best known for it's many ghosts, there has even been a team of american paranormal researchers here, lead by a Dr. Raymond Moody -and with their equipment gotten stronger reactions than at any of the famous haunted places in england... There's the 17th century Lady, Brita Bååth - who died, according to the legend - after mistakenly attending the mass of the dead... the hunchback dwarf Anders Luxemburg, and Cotillion - the dog of Axel Von Fersen's younger Sister Sophie, who died and was buried there -"at the feet of his mistress", as his little tombstone says, located somewhere in the park. There is also Brandklipparen, the last horse of King Charles XII who spent his last years there.






The castle doesn't look like any other, not really an architectural masterpiece, but still wonderful, rising tall above the green, lush landscape. The whole site is almost phenomenally beautiful, especially on a bright summers day, as you can imagine. Sadly the castle was closed this day, but we enjoyed a nice picnic in the park and took a look at the church nearby.


When you walk up the stairs to the first floor you'll encounter an eerie portrait of an austere-looking lady, dressed in grey. -it's the ill fated Brita Bååth who, according to the legend, was a "cruel and rigid woman who was said to have driven her two husbands into an early grave..."

-one early christmas day-morning, she was to attend the christmas service. Anxious to miss it she'd instructed the servants to wake her early, but toward the morning she woke up by herself and saw the light in the church windows, annoyed she thought that the service had already begun and that they'd simply forgotten to wake her, so she dressed hastily and got out. Half way to the church she saw an apparition, uncannily resembling her old wet nurse who'd been dead for many years, and the old woman almost seeemd as if she was trying to warn her from continuing, but as she was already late she ignored the vision and scuttled on.

And as she approached the church she noticed that the light in the windows had a cold, pale-green glow to it, with none of the usual warmth of the christmas candles, but this didn't stop her either. But upon entering the church she stood petrified, for in the benches sat skeletons with devoutly clasped hands and grinning faces. She realised she was much to early and that she'd come to the mass of the dead. -and as if that weren't enough the ghosts of her two late husbands came rushing toward her - one swung his rapier at her, but only got a piece of her veil and the other threw a large stone, which struck her to the ground, outside where the servants found her the following morning, and she retold the horrific tale before she died, three days later.

The rapier with the piece of her veil still hangs in the church, hung across her funeral coat of arms, and nobody knows how it got there.


I hope to be able to get back later this summer, when the castle's open, to see it's beautiful interiors again, (not to mention posting more pictures for you to see!) -before last tuestay i hadn't been there in more than six years. A couple of years before my mother's death five years ago, we made it a tradition to go there on my birthdays. So it was so nice getting back there again, for it's too gorgeous a place not to go to at least once a year!

The Piper family arriving at the newly rebuilt Engsö, oil on canvas by unknown artist.

Someone has heard my prayers at last!

I have long been pining for more period-instrument recordings of the music of André-Ernest-Modeste Grétry (1741-1813) -there have been shockingly few over the years, in fact hardly any at all. -absurd, considering what a huge star he was in his own lifetime, for example; his "La Caravane du Caire" from 1783 was given more than five hundred performances! Now his 1780, "Andromaque" -his only tragédie lyrique, based on Jean Racine's play, has been recorded by Hervé Niquet et Le Concert Spirituel on the spanish label Glossa.
...And i'm thrilled!!!
...And there's more!!!
-Later, i've heard, a recording for cd, of Grétry's 1773 ballet héroïque "Céphale et Procris" will be made by Les Agrémens, lead by Guy van Waas, for Ricercar. Last fall it was performed in concert at the Opéra Royal, Versailles. See it here.

"Céphale et Procris" by Fragonard
Grétry, by Vigée-Lebrun.

Now i'm only praying for the weather to change! -though the winter was unusually rigorous this year, even for us in the north. It really was the very winter i had been longing for for years and not since the 1920s, i believe, have we had as much snow... and then of course i started pining for spring, wich looked like it was coming along nicely, until a couple of days ago when it suddenly felt like we had stepped back several weeks. -and with an impenetrable thicket of clouds above! -and temperatures never rising above 50 F. Just unacceptable! And the iris and the honeysuckle on my balcony seemed to be thriving and i had even taken out my poor lemon tree for the season! But at least it's a great excuse to just stay in, drink tea... and listen to some Grétry, i guess.

And i'm sorry i've posted so infrequently lately -really since i started this blog, but i just haven't had the peace of mind for that, or anything really... and i have scarcely drawn for months, except for some pointless doodlings every now and then. But I do hope to be back soon, and i'm glad you're all still with me.
Au bientôt!

The park at Drottningholm, a lovely day exactly two years ago. Now it's more like november.

Patricia Petibon "Quando voglio"

Ulriksdal Palace

Ulriksdal Palace, seen from the lake.

After a mild december it's now been incredibly cold for almost a full month and the snow, though it hasn't been that much of it, has actually stayed! It's heavenly!

I just meant to post a series of photos from my walk last saturday when i went out to the royal estate of Ulriksdal, expressly to capture the white, frosty gorgeousness. But can't leave out writing just a little about it's history.

Scroll down to see more pictures and to read about the theatre.




In the early 17th centry Ulriksdal belonged to Jacob de la Gardie, a nobleman of french bourgeois descent, it was then named Jacobsdahl. Jacob's son Magnus Gabriel was a favourite of Queen Christina (util he eventually fell from grace) as well as one of the walthiest and most powerful men in Sweden. He had his father's estate turned into a magnificent baroque compound with magnificent gardens, -if we're to believe, the often rather exaggerated, engravings of the time.


In the 1680s it was taken over by the crown and renamed Ulriksdal, after a prince who died in infancy.










The court theatre, called "the Confidence", was originally built in the 1670s as a stable, but in the 1750s it was turned into a theatre by Queen Louisa Ulrica, sister of Frederic the great of Prussia.

Sadly the theatre, -just like the one at Drottningholm, was abandoned at the death of her son, Gustav III in 1792, -and in the 1860s the building was brutally turned into a hideous neo-renaissance style hunting lodge, by king Carl XV.

It's name "the confidence" comes from the dining room, with it's "Table volante" -where the table could be lowered down to the cellar and there dressed and set, so that the Royal family could dine in private. -all of this and the original 18th century-fixtures were all covered or simply demolished in the 1860s.

Luckily the theatre was "rediscovered" in the 1970s by the opera singer Kjerstin Dellert, who happened to live nearby. The building was in a terrible state, and unlike Drottningholm, next to nothing remained. Dellert found sponsors and started a complete restoration of the theatre, had the salon and it's adjoining suite of elegant rooms all turned back to their former beauty.


View through one of the windows of the dining room.Adorable houses nearby