Last saturday, on all saints' day, i transformed my little apartment into a haunted house and gave a nice, intimate little belated halloween party. Me and my two co-hostesses served the guests quesadillas, beetroot cake with blood red icing and roman punch. Sadly i never had the time, energy, funds or imagination to put together any kind of costume. But it was a fun night all the same.
On the balcony i placed a banshee, or someting, i made of some cardboard, bamboo sticks and two yards of tulle.
I can't believe it's been six months since the last time i checked in here. I always come to think of things i should write about, or images to post here, but as with so much else in my life lately, it never seems to get done.
For now; heres a beautiful little Vashti Bunyan song to break the silence:
My father, painted by his good friend, the late Stig Claesson.
Four weeks ago my dear father died, aged 86. He got pneumonia, and as he had COPD after a lifetime of fervent smoking, and stubborny refusing to quit, his lungs could no longer cope. He moved to a nursing home about a year ago, as he had gone weaker and weaker over the last years.
All my life i've been aware that i would lose him while i was young, -it's not like when my mother suddenly died, aged 64, more than five years ago, -that was a shock i haven't quite recovered from today, if i ever even will... -But it's still sad, as i had naturally hoped for him to get better, though it seemed more and more unlikely. In the past five years i have watched him... like land eroded by the sea, more and more bits of who he was falling away and his clear periods getting fewer and farther between. Because of his diabetes and stubborn refusal to do any kind of excercise offered him, he had also lost use of his legs.
Over the years there have been so many scares and false alarms. He had fallen numerous times, there were so many nights waiting for hours in the emergency room, thinking, and fearing that this might be it.
So the night before he died i was with him for a couple of hours. He was in a morphine haze and unaware of me being there. He was just lying there twitching slightly and breathing strenuously. Shortly after ten i tried to say goodbye to him; i took his hands, -his hands that he would normally have clasped firmly around mine, but now they were all limp, and i should have recognized the signs, but still i went home, strangely convinced that he'd be alright. So i got home and went to bed, and at about six in the morning a nurse called and told me that he had passed away. I went there immediately, and then i just stood there, all numb, looking at him. His hands were still warm, but there could be no doubt. He was no longer there.
One of my father's self-portraits, probably 1980s
I regret that i might not have visited him as often as i could have since he moved to the home, only a few times per week at most. -sometimes he would call me at four in the morning, thinking it was afternoon, and asking me where the hell i was. I went there as often as i had could of course, but can't help but feeling like i just dumped him there. That i abandoned him.
My biggest comfort is that I did spend so much time with him in the years between my mother's death and before he got too weak to do anything at all. I tried to get him out of the house, go to see exhibitions and go to museums, movies, restaurants and for long walks. And it's also comforting to think of what a long and eventful life he had after all.
So now i am an orphan. -though at times i've felt like i was his parent, i often feel like i have the mental capacity of an eight-year old. I've been held back by all of this, hardly realised any plans, if i ever even had any... i haven't had the energy to take up studies or do anything at all. In a way i am now free to start living, but i don't know where to begin... -and sometimes, i must admit, i feel uncertain whether i even want to, and just falling asleep forever seems so incredibly tempting, but as i have a fear of blades, heights and pain in general, and have no doctor to give me any kind of pills i guess i'm going to have to go on living. Hopefully someday i'll even learn to enjoy it again.
Me, aged five, photographed by my father. One of his favorites with Jussi Björling.
Hello loves! I just have to post this german documentary (in two parts) about Drottningholm that i just found on youtube. I can't stand how time just evaporates like this - i haven't made it to Drottningholm since i was there for Handel's Ariodante in the beginning of june, and i used to go there at least once a week! -but of course it's been a terrible start of this summer -after a lovely spring most of june just rained away and the temperature stayed around 13 Celsius...but now we've had several days of almost tropical heat with temperatures never sinking below 20 degrees even at night. So i hope to go soon! -and i really could be there within 30 minutes so i don't know what keeps keeping me!
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Last week i was in Berlin for a couple of days, visiting my friend, who's currently doing an internship at an architecture firm there.
This was my first time abroad since my mother passed away in 2005 and god, i needed a holiday! My friend lives in Kreutzberg in the most beautiful apartment in a 19th century building with stucco ceilings and no less than three beautiful tiled stoves!
On the third day we got tickets for Mozart's "the abduction of the seraglio" at the Staatsoper Unter den linden, it was just third row seats and we scarcely saw the stage, but it was a great performance, with Christine Schäfer as Costanze, who also sings the part on the recording with William Christie. Annoyingly we didn't get to see her when she gloriously sang "Marter aller arten", so the operaglasses i found in a little antiques shop in our neighborhood earlier the same day weren't much use, but we heard perfectly: Unter den linden towards Alexanderplatz with the Staatsoper to the right.
One of my favorite things about Berlin is Dussmann -a huge and fabulous store on Friedrichstraße, open until midnight on weekdays, selling books, music, movies, games and more. -they have the most incredible classical section! Too good to be true! I bought Mondonville's "Titon et Aurore" and Mouret's "Les amours de Ragonde" (Erato/Warner) both with Marc Minkowski and a lovely new cd titled "Le salon de musique de Marie-Antoinette" (Naïve/Ambroisie" with Sandrine Chatron on Harp, playing beautiful pieces by Gluck, Grétry, Mozart and others including Marie-Antoinette's own composition "C'est mon ami" and other arias and duets sung by Isabelle Poulenard and Jean-François Lombard, and then to my pleasant surprise i found a sequal to Véronique Gens and Les Talens Lyriques with Christophe Rousset, terrific 2006 recital cd "Tragédiennes" (Emi/Virgin) simply titled "Tragédiennes 2".
The first one had music by Lully, Campra, Rameau, Mondonville, Leclair, Royer and Gluck and the second one Gluck, Sacchini, Piccinni, Rameau, Grétry, Cherubini, Arriàga and Berlioz. I also picked up Lully's "Atys" (Harmonia Mundi) with William Christie and Les Arts Florissants.
the view from the tv-tower
The classical section at Dussmann truly is fantastic, i discovered it the last time i was in Berlin in 2004 and i was like a kid in a candystore! They have absolutely everything! -and i was pleased to see nothing had changed in five years, what with all those superstores closing and downsizing allover the world. I also made it twice to my favorite eatery, Monsieur Vuong where i had delicious springrolls, noodlesalad Mekong and Phò. How i love that place...just like the rest of the world! Sadly i did not make it to Potsdam and Sanssouci or to revisit the Charlottenburg palace...but they're excellent reasons to go back to that lovely city.
The Sophienkirche in Mitte, a gorgeous little church
Again, i apologise for not being more active here but time has just been slipping through my fingers lately. But i'm pleased to see you're still with me. See you soon!
At last i've gotten that slight, proper snow mayhem i have pined for for so long! I only hope it stays a while before spring breaks out. Last saturday saw a feeble dusting of snow and during the night it snowed as though someone had ripped up a giant duvet...and on Sunday it was just picture-perfect! Though it's already getting warmer and yet again there's that dreary, dripping sound and huge lumps of snow dropping from the trees...but yesterday surpassed all my wildest dreams. I can't believe it's been more than a month since last time i wrote, i really meant to wright more often but just haven't been able to post any of those several drafts i've typed down...i have literally all the time in the world and am still unable to make the most of my hours. How do people with proper jobs, relations and families and all that keep from going under? Pictures taken yesterday in my parent's garden, around my home and out at Djurgården, where i had to go just to capture this magical winter-land! And for a little splash of colour i have to post this scrumptious Hermés scarf i shot at NK department store the other day.
