What is the difference between an email and a letter? It is time. Who takes the time to write proper letters today?
Remember in Jane Austen´s "Pride and Prejudice", as Lizzie gets finally two mislead letters of her sister and her aunt, very discret, tells her to take an hour to read them, she would in the meantime go for a walk. Time indeed.
I for all communicate nowadays much more via email than via letter - which the other day struck me as a pity. I am not even a great telephone person.
I used to write quite a lot and used to keep letters I liked and cherished. I still do, but the letters nowadays are so few, that it is always a great delight to receive a proper one. A mail you do not receive neither keep in the same way - it is, in the best of cases, stored away in a folder and then you forget about it. Nor do you re-read a mail so many times as you would a letter... also very dificult to take a mail with you in your handbag. A printed version is so un-chic.There is no element of the sensual touch of paper and the joy of going to the letterbox and finding a nice envelope..
I do regret, that I have thrown away letters, which today I would have loved to read again - in my older age I would perhaps have detected things in those letters, I did not see when I was young. But alas, as many of us move around the world and the need to let things go and behind, we have thrown out many letters.
So, for me it will be difficult to be retraced in letters and in my correspondence, should the need arise to write my biography in the year 2145!
But there is still a bastion of writing, quite alive: Christmas Cards. Still the anticipation of Christmas is mostly the expectation and wait for the yearly flood of Christmas Cards - I do confess, it is for me personally the best part of Christmas - you just jump to the postbox every morning, curious to see who has written and how to their children look now, what their news are and if all is well. It is also a means of keeping in touch on a yearly basis - helps so much then to call, if you should happen to be in Milano and have over the last 20 years not met, but have had every year that faithful Christmas Card with Children, Parents and Dogs - great way of keeping in touch and great way of not inhibiting getting in touch again.
(Ok, I admit, it is a bit weird, writing about Christmas Cards in the middle of summer, but beware, Christmas is round the corner!)
I still write letters - but more to the older generation than to the younger. Which is a pity. If the young do not get letters, they do not have to learn to reply and a whole culture is getting lost in the process. I am always delighted, if a godchild writes to thank for a parcel which arrived for a birthday or any other occasion. But many godchildren do not even thank any longer for the gifts. Nor do they take care of their old aunts... My children are not better than others, it is always a fight to get them writing.
I vow to get back to letter writing - also as it is a very calming affair to do - you think differently if you write a letter. It is more fun, more joy and also more respect than a mail, it seems to me. So, here I go: will write more letters!!
Last but not least: get that handwriting of yours exercised again.
Tuesday 28 June 2011
Friday 24 June 2011
Thursday 23 June 2011
Galignani in Paris - Librairie - Bookseller
One of my favourtie places of all times!!
Galignani - THE bookshop in Paris, always worth half a day of hanging around and sponging in the atmosphere and new books and lovely people and and and.
Perfectly situatued as well in the Arcades of the Rue Rivoli, you can always have a little snack and tea at Angelina´s and then back to the Lettres... They are one of the oldest bookshops in Paris, tending to the english and american visitors for the last 200 years.
The last time I was there, good old Valery Giscard D´Estaing came over to have a look, whether his latest book had sold some more pieces than the day before.
He looks indeed like on the pictures, french and tall and old.
Especially happy is the large large section of Art Books - if you do not find your heart´s wish there, then it will be difficult to find the book somewhere else.
I also like to have a chat with the highly cultivated people who work there - fluent english is de rigeur, and they know almost everything in the wink of an eye. The choice is endless and I could happily spend hours and hours there browsing in peace and unmolested, and then schlepping home ( to the train - thanks God, the Metro is near!) books about all sorts of things...
But: they even have an international mailorder service.... isn´t that the top of chic???
Galignani - THE bookshop in Paris, always worth half a day of hanging around and sponging in the atmosphere and new books and lovely people and and and.
Perfectly situatued as well in the Arcades of the Rue Rivoli, you can always have a little snack and tea at Angelina´s and then back to the Lettres... They are one of the oldest bookshops in Paris, tending to the english and american visitors for the last 200 years.
The last time I was there, good old Valery Giscard D´Estaing came over to have a look, whether his latest book had sold some more pieces than the day before. He looks indeed like on the pictures, french and tall and old.
Especially happy is the large large section of Art Books - if you do not find your heart´s wish there, then it will be difficult to find the book somewhere else.
I also like to have a chat with the highly cultivated people who work there - fluent english is de rigeur, and they know almost everything in the wink of an eye. The choice is endless and I could happily spend hours and hours there browsing in peace and unmolested, and then schlepping home ( to the train - thanks God, the Metro is near!) books about all sorts of things...
But: they even have an international mailorder service.... isn´t that the top of chic???
Galignani
Livres Francais
Anglais & Américans
224, Rue de Rivoli, Paris Ier
Tél. 01 42 60 76 07
Tuesday 21 June 2011
The Pleasure of Throwing Things Out
It has been for ages one of my foolproof vademecums in troubled times: I start to tidy up, sort things out, clean the bathrooms thouroughly, have a sharp look at my lipstick collection, start to colour code my clothes. Some mechanic, intellectually effortless "doing".
So, you could say, the more my house and flat looks taken care of, the more troubles I have? Not necessary - because then people who live in clean empty lofts would have no problems at all, which is not true. "Weeding" is for me a great way of pondering about my own thoughts, having me-time and doing something almost mechanically, which afterwards shows an immediate result.
And on top of it much better than ironing, when you see what you have done after 2 hours sweating in the cellar.
It gives me satisfaction to see, that I can change something in my life for the better - even if it is only the cupboard of glasses or the bedsheets - but you have an immediate satifying result; it is therapeutic, looking at things and saying goodbye to them.
Making room for new stuff, indeniably. But why not?
If you keep things/life/cooking/car/etc. too static, it all gets very dusty and liveless. Concerning our possessions, it is the most obvious part. Unless you have such a big house, that you simply close one suite of and start to fill another one - good old times, when space was no question - then you are in trouble.
But nowadays, as most of us live a life of 150 squaremeters in the maximum, we have to control the weeds and gather impulses by weeding out a lot of the stuff we accumulate over the years.
Nothing better for that than the life of a diplomat - you have to change houses every 3 to 4 years - it makes you weed like crazy!
The most difficult move I had here in Brussels - we had stayed in a house for 5 years and with it the feeling grew, that this would have been THE house for our family. Unfortunately it was not meant to be and we had to, in the true sense of the word, uproot again. All the stuff which had agglomerated during 5 years, with 4 children and 2 dogs and a lot of space and a huge garden, you cannot imagine.
Now I am more vigilant, not to letting my Self get my roots too deep in a rented house - and I weed and weed and weed.
The same applies for clothes: we use so little of our wardrobe, hang on to so much stuff, we never ever will wear again - why hanging on to it? Let it go.
Loads of books do appear in our house, hard for me to get rid of them. But I have started to pass them on to others - the school library or friends - at least no need to keep the paperbacks you will not read a second time.
What is nicer than on a rainy sunday make a cleear over in the kitchen cupboards - taking stock and doing some shopping in your own house? Amazing, what sometimes comes back to the light of day - f.e. tins with tonic water which expired in april 2008. Or a friend found out, that she will not be in need of buying plastic folders until 2056.
Weeding out childrens stuff is important too - they do not play there, if they rooms are too crowded. Very educational for them and on top of it very good situation for talking to your children too - no eyecontact and concentrated sieving of legos and playmobil can bring much interesting information out of an otherwise quiet child.
They have too much stuff anyway and are as happy as we are, to pass things on and get rid of them. Provided it is not the most beloved teddybear, Tom.
So, you could say, the more my house and flat looks taken care of, the more troubles I have? Not necessary - because then people who live in clean empty lofts would have no problems at all, which is not true. "Weeding" is for me a great way of pondering about my own thoughts, having me-time and doing something almost mechanically, which afterwards shows an immediate result.
And on top of it much better than ironing, when you see what you have done after 2 hours sweating in the cellar.
It gives me satisfaction to see, that I can change something in my life for the better - even if it is only the cupboard of glasses or the bedsheets - but you have an immediate satifying result; it is therapeutic, looking at things and saying goodbye to them.
Making room for new stuff, indeniably. But why not?
If you keep things/life/cooking/car/etc. too static, it all gets very dusty and liveless. Concerning our possessions, it is the most obvious part. Unless you have such a big house, that you simply close one suite of and start to fill another one - good old times, when space was no question - then you are in trouble.
But nowadays, as most of us live a life of 150 squaremeters in the maximum, we have to control the weeds and gather impulses by weeding out a lot of the stuff we accumulate over the years.
Nothing better for that than the life of a diplomat - you have to change houses every 3 to 4 years - it makes you weed like crazy!
The most difficult move I had here in Brussels - we had stayed in a house for 5 years and with it the feeling grew, that this would have been THE house for our family. Unfortunately it was not meant to be and we had to, in the true sense of the word, uproot again. All the stuff which had agglomerated during 5 years, with 4 children and 2 dogs and a lot of space and a huge garden, you cannot imagine.
Now I am more vigilant, not to letting my Self get my roots too deep in a rented house - and I weed and weed and weed.
The same applies for clothes: we use so little of our wardrobe, hang on to so much stuff, we never ever will wear again - why hanging on to it? Let it go.
Loads of books do appear in our house, hard for me to get rid of them. But I have started to pass them on to others - the school library or friends - at least no need to keep the paperbacks you will not read a second time.
What is nicer than on a rainy sunday make a cleear over in the kitchen cupboards - taking stock and doing some shopping in your own house? Amazing, what sometimes comes back to the light of day - f.e. tins with tonic water which expired in april 2008. Or a friend found out, that she will not be in need of buying plastic folders until 2056.
Weeding out childrens stuff is important too - they do not play there, if they rooms are too crowded. Very educational for them and on top of it very good situation for talking to your children too - no eyecontact and concentrated sieving of legos and playmobil can bring much interesting information out of an otherwise quiet child.
They have too much stuff anyway and are as happy as we are, to pass things on and get rid of them. Provided it is not the most beloved teddybear, Tom.
Sunday 19 June 2011
The Importance of having Books in the House
I do admit, that I always am curious if I come in a not yet known abode - I want to see, how people live, what is important to them. For me books are a good indicator of the possibilietes for friendship with me - even if this sounds horribly posh and snobbish.
But let books do the talking - they show so much more about a person, than the person would perhaps sometimes let show about herself.
There are homes with out any books - very strange.
There are houses full of books, which are very obviously there only for decoration purposes - dangerous grounds.... To be avoided.
There are houses with overflow with books - very interesting - just keep a view on the themes: All New Age stuff is questionable also.
There are houses where you have a full library, but the Shakespeare goes on the meter and you have all the complete Goethe there, looking very untouched - seems a competition to prove, that one has read it all. But does one have understood what is going on in the books?
And then, finally, there are houses, where books cohabit with human beings - those are the most comfortable homes and make me want to settle and have a good talk through the library... talk to an open mind and a whole world opens up....There is nothing more fertile and engaging than talking to someone about his reads and preferences in books. It opens new views and makes us curious to learn. Many a good read would have eloped, if the talk had not been before the discovery.
I myself love books and have an indulgence about them - never can stop buying them and they come to my house more or less on their own. I could not imagine not reading. I do not like to read on the computer - like to have the sensual touch and smell of a good book in my hands. Settle down, like a dog, in your favourite armchair and go on a journey.
I also am very suspect of films made out of books - sometimes, very rarely, it is a success - but more often not and the imagination of the figures gets spoiled. Which is a pity..
Worst example for bad film on a good and interesting book: Umberto Eco: In the name of the rose. The book is an erudite thriller, full of details and psychological insights. The film is simply crap.
Best film on a book: Visconti´s "Il Gattopardo". I can watch it time after time and everytime you discover something new. Same qualitiy in the BBC´s "Pride and Prejudice" from 1994 ( not only because of Colin Firth!!) - makes you want to read the book again and again.
One thing more: I have always had the idea of reading, if possible, the books in their original language. My favourite reading language is english - far before german or any other language. I would have loved to read Tolstoy in russian, old dream of mine, but I fear this will not be possible any longer. Some things in life we do not achieve. Tolstoy and Puschkin in english translations are better than in german - this I can tell from own experience.
Reading is simply wonderful. I try to instill it on my children - hope I will succeed. They start with Asterix and Obelix, go on to Tintin and end with Harry Potter at the start or their teenage years. And then all is possible.
Once the love of reading is installed, it is not easily to be killed any longer - a treasure in our life, which nobody ever can take away from you.
But let books do the talking - they show so much more about a person, than the person would perhaps sometimes let show about herself.
There are homes with out any books - very strange.
There are houses full of books, which are very obviously there only for decoration purposes - dangerous grounds.... To be avoided.
There are houses with overflow with books - very interesting - just keep a view on the themes: All New Age stuff is questionable also.
There are houses where you have a full library, but the Shakespeare goes on the meter and you have all the complete Goethe there, looking very untouched - seems a competition to prove, that one has read it all. But does one have understood what is going on in the books?
And then, finally, there are houses, where books cohabit with human beings - those are the most comfortable homes and make me want to settle and have a good talk through the library... talk to an open mind and a whole world opens up....There is nothing more fertile and engaging than talking to someone about his reads and preferences in books. It opens new views and makes us curious to learn. Many a good read would have eloped, if the talk had not been before the discovery.
I myself love books and have an indulgence about them - never can stop buying them and they come to my house more or less on their own. I could not imagine not reading. I do not like to read on the computer - like to have the sensual touch and smell of a good book in my hands. Settle down, like a dog, in your favourite armchair and go on a journey.
I also am very suspect of films made out of books - sometimes, very rarely, it is a success - but more often not and the imagination of the figures gets spoiled. Which is a pity..
Worst example for bad film on a good and interesting book: Umberto Eco: In the name of the rose. The book is an erudite thriller, full of details and psychological insights. The film is simply crap.
Best film on a book: Visconti´s "Il Gattopardo". I can watch it time after time and everytime you discover something new. Same qualitiy in the BBC´s "Pride and Prejudice" from 1994 ( not only because of Colin Firth!!) - makes you want to read the book again and again.
One thing more: I have always had the idea of reading, if possible, the books in their original language. My favourite reading language is english - far before german or any other language. I would have loved to read Tolstoy in russian, old dream of mine, but I fear this will not be possible any longer. Some things in life we do not achieve. Tolstoy and Puschkin in english translations are better than in german - this I can tell from own experience.
Reading is simply wonderful. I try to instill it on my children - hope I will succeed. They start with Asterix and Obelix, go on to Tintin and end with Harry Potter at the start or their teenage years. And then all is possible.
Once the love of reading is installed, it is not easily to be killed any longer - a treasure in our life, which nobody ever can take away from you.
Friday 17 June 2011
Making Music: Singing
The discussion is always the same: what is preferable, to hear music life and perhaps not in the best of quality - humans are prone to failure. Or to hear a disc, preferably the best orchestra in the world and sit in your drawing room, to hear Karajan and the Wiener Philharmoniker working through Mahler...?
For me both is possible, with a very clear preference for making music myself.
When I was a child, it was one of my greatest aspirations to become an operasinger and play the andpiano.And this I did, getting on the nerves of everyone at home, playing for hours on our not very good old piano ( my grandmother got it as payment for one of her pictures - also a way of paying..) and singing my heart out. I remember my grandfather sitting and patiently hearing - he could not escape, as he walked veery badly. This must have been in the early 1970ies.
Later in boarding school, I often went off and played around in the various pianos which were available in the classrooms. My godmother payed me some lessons with a not very inspiring teacher and I learnt to play Bartok pieces for children - not my cup of tea. When I showed up and played for her beethoven´s " Für Elise" she got grumpy and that was that. Later, again at home I had the piano tuned, as far this was possible and learnt the piano by myself and never came as far as to see some progress in some Chopin Mazurkas and Waltzes. I am still grateful for the nerves of my family and friends..
Singing was one of my passions from early on, but I never would have had the guts to persue a career in music - not gifted enough and not determined enough. I did enjoy some stardom though in the choir of the boardingschool and the memory of singing concerts in the monasteries church are the one I cherish most from my school days with the brave Soeurs in Altötting.
Only some years later I had the luck to join a choir, which was "training" for a production of the H-Moll Messe by JSBach - I never had heard the piece before and when we had the last big rehearsal before the performance, it blew my heart and head off - this was music indeed and the feeling of melting into something other than a human crowd singing together was a great experience.
Then came children and moves and only very late, in Ankara a small group of collegues started to sing Christmas Carols - which was great fun and a wonderful pasttime.
Now I sing for quite a time already in a choir here in Brussels, and it gives me still great joy.
We "do" a concert every month and sing only Johann Sebastian Bach - cantatas. Perhaps you have heard, if you happen to live in Brussels, of the Chapelle des Minimes? Well, that´s us. Passionate amateurs, almost a substitute family, lovely friends, help in many dark times. If not this what would have become of me?
Making music in an ensemble is such a joy, abbandoning oneself into a group and becoming something different - communion indeed. In the summer we have started to celebrate the birthday of a friend in a small group, resinging pieces of the saison´s programm just for our own pleasure - last year on our terrasse, we even got applause from the neighbours!
If you want, check out: www.minimes.net - there is a free concert every month from september until june!
For me both is possible, with a very clear preference for making music myself.
When I was a child, it was one of my greatest aspirations to become an operasinger and play the andpiano.And this I did, getting on the nerves of everyone at home, playing for hours on our not very good old piano ( my grandmother got it as payment for one of her pictures - also a way of paying..) and singing my heart out. I remember my grandfather sitting and patiently hearing - he could not escape, as he walked veery badly. This must have been in the early 1970ies.
Later in boarding school, I often went off and played around in the various pianos which were available in the classrooms. My godmother payed me some lessons with a not very inspiring teacher and I learnt to play Bartok pieces for children - not my cup of tea. When I showed up and played for her beethoven´s " Für Elise" she got grumpy and that was that. Later, again at home I had the piano tuned, as far this was possible and learnt the piano by myself and never came as far as to see some progress in some Chopin Mazurkas and Waltzes. I am still grateful for the nerves of my family and friends..
Singing was one of my passions from early on, but I never would have had the guts to persue a career in music - not gifted enough and not determined enough. I did enjoy some stardom though in the choir of the boardingschool and the memory of singing concerts in the monasteries church are the one I cherish most from my school days with the brave Soeurs in Altötting.
Only some years later I had the luck to join a choir, which was "training" for a production of the H-Moll Messe by JSBach - I never had heard the piece before and when we had the last big rehearsal before the performance, it blew my heart and head off - this was music indeed and the feeling of melting into something other than a human crowd singing together was a great experience.
Then came children and moves and only very late, in Ankara a small group of collegues started to sing Christmas Carols - which was great fun and a wonderful pasttime.
Now I sing for quite a time already in a choir here in Brussels, and it gives me still great joy.
We "do" a concert every month and sing only Johann Sebastian Bach - cantatas. Perhaps you have heard, if you happen to live in Brussels, of the Chapelle des Minimes? Well, that´s us. Passionate amateurs, almost a substitute family, lovely friends, help in many dark times. If not this what would have become of me?
Making music in an ensemble is such a joy, abbandoning oneself into a group and becoming something different - communion indeed. In the summer we have started to celebrate the birthday of a friend in a small group, resinging pieces of the saison´s programm just for our own pleasure - last year on our terrasse, we even got applause from the neighbours!
If you want, check out: www.minimes.net - there is a free concert every month from september until june!
Thursday 16 June 2011
News
Have been away for a couple of days - as you may have imagined, as the post are coming in normally in a pace of two days between now and there was silence on this side...
But now I am back, fresh and relaxed as I passed some wonderful days with good old friends, had good talks, much laughter, perfect food, beautiful weather and came to know new places and sites - what do you want more of a short trip?
Very advisable to do so more often - getting out of the daily treadmill and having the mind gearing up for some new impressions and ideas. One may call it also the "Little Escapes"! And after a certain age, you find home, children and dogs still alive, fed and washed. So: Off You Go!
And now back to those posts waiting to be released..
But now I am back, fresh and relaxed as I passed some wonderful days with good old friends, had good talks, much laughter, perfect food, beautiful weather and came to know new places and sites - what do you want more of a short trip?
Very advisable to do so more often - getting out of the daily treadmill and having the mind gearing up for some new impressions and ideas. One may call it also the "Little Escapes"! And after a certain age, you find home, children and dogs still alive, fed and washed. So: Off You Go!
And now back to those posts waiting to be released..
Wednesday 15 June 2011
Thursday 9 June 2011
Vintage in Brussels: PIÈCE UNIQUE
Place Brugmann and the surroundings are in my favourite quartier in Brussels: not only works here my hairdresser David but there is also a most interesting Vintage shop, very nearby actually. "Pièce Unique" - always an Aladins Cave for finding something which has only been waiting for you apparently.
Last time I was there and found a whole bunch of Issey Miyake clothes, in very good condition - told some girls and off they went to have a look!
I myself have been circling a very classic and sober black Tods bag, but it was gone, when I came back to have another look. The more you look around, the more you find... and even in not so small sizes!! SO..
The shop belongs to a very quirky french lady - called by her friends "N.G." and a self confessed fashion victim ( this means, the ideal background for the enterprise!) - she is french, through and through, has been for a long time in the Antiques Bussiness and has opened her premises in Brussels only in January 2010 - and the thing is taking flight now more and more.
We always have a good talk, be it over the question, whether people buy or not used shoes; about sizes, which are often a problem in the Vintage Market, or the Chanel vest, which I dream of and am still looking for. On the racks there is Chanel, Lanvin, Hermès ( not only foulards..) Mugler ( great black jacket!), Inès de la Fressange, Balenciaga ( alas, small sizes) and many more.There are also very nice bags - one I am still keeping an eye on, but will not tell you which. Actually, I hasten to say, that you can bubble of here in perfect english - la Polyglotte Parfaite!One of the very exclusive treats you find here is a collection of the jewellery made by Philippe Ferandis - there are shops in Paris, but here in Brussels it is the only place to my knowledge, where you can find those breathtakingly beautiful and unusual fashion jewelleries - I just love them. They are interesting, very well made and a real showstopper - just put on a little with dress, or if you prefer the black one, hang one of these marvellous colliers around your neck and be ready to face the world. Great!
N.G. told me, that she will start this weekend most probably with the "pre-Sales" - so if you are around, just pop in and have a look. I certainly will do... walking like a cat around the milkpot around the mentioned bag...
"Pièce Unique"
Vintage Accessoires de Mode, Créateurs, Couturiers, BijouxRue Franz Merjay 167/169
1050 Brussels
Tel. 02 347 48 96
mail: pieceunique@gmail.com
Wednesday 8 June 2011
Why don´t you...? 9
- take time to wonder more?
Most constructive occupation, I can tell you. best done while doing some mechanical movements, like peeling potatoes, weeding the garden or vacuumcleaning ( yes, it works!)
So...
- wonder what your parents really think or thought, cherished and wanted from their lives?
The great unknown. I wonder really sometimes, if we know our parents in reality? Unfortunately my father is long dead; I would have loved to know him better. Parents do have a hidden life of their own and when we, often very late or only after their death, find out some details we did never guess, we are shaken in our deepest hearts. But there it is. Everybody has his own little garden in his heart.
- wonder about your expectations in life?
Any reason to think to have a right to something? Have you got what you wanted? Or does it transpire that expectations are a gift from the bad fairy godmother? Or are they not...? But then, were would we be, without our beloved expectations in life...
- wonder about the beauty you see everyday in front of you, for free?
I know, I repeat myself here - but it is worth to drum it out to you there: Cherish beauty, be aware of it and take time to take it in. It is so important!
- wonder why people like and sometimes even love you?
When you are toldso and you are far from being perfect, you start to wonder. Until you find out, that, inspite of being the one you are, there are always people who like you the way you are. Remember Bridgets Jones´ diary, where lovely and maladroite Mr Darcy tells messy Bridget, that he just likes her the way she is? Who of you did not have a melancholic second???
Most constructive occupation, I can tell you. best done while doing some mechanical movements, like peeling potatoes, weeding the garden or vacuumcleaning ( yes, it works!)
So...
- wonder what your parents really think or thought, cherished and wanted from their lives?
The great unknown. I wonder really sometimes, if we know our parents in reality? Unfortunately my father is long dead; I would have loved to know him better. Parents do have a hidden life of their own and when we, often very late or only after their death, find out some details we did never guess, we are shaken in our deepest hearts. But there it is. Everybody has his own little garden in his heart.
- wonder about your expectations in life?
Any reason to think to have a right to something? Have you got what you wanted? Or does it transpire that expectations are a gift from the bad fairy godmother? Or are they not...? But then, were would we be, without our beloved expectations in life...
- wonder about the beauty you see everyday in front of you, for free?
I know, I repeat myself here - but it is worth to drum it out to you there: Cherish beauty, be aware of it and take time to take it in. It is so important!
- wonder why people like and sometimes even love you?
When you are toldso and you are far from being perfect, you start to wonder. Until you find out, that, inspite of being the one you are, there are always people who like you the way you are. Remember Bridgets Jones´ diary, where lovely and maladroite Mr Darcy tells messy Bridget, that he just likes her the way she is? Who of you did not have a melancholic second???
Monday 6 June 2011
Thank you!
Good morning to you all out there,
just to let you know, that my blog has reached the 2000 clicks!!!! Being there for 4 month now, this gives me great pleasure and the support to go on airing my opinions and preferences. So pleased!
Have a lovely day, even if it is raining in Brussels,
Jola
just to let you know, that my blog has reached the 2000 clicks!!!! Being there for 4 month now, this gives me great pleasure and the support to go on airing my opinions and preferences. So pleased!
Have a lovely day, even if it is raining in Brussels,
Jola
Sunday 5 June 2011
PINA, by Wim Wenders, Germany/France 2010
Went yesterday, finally, to see the latest film by Wim Wenders - "Pina" - a sort of memoir in hommage to Pina Pausch (1940-2009). Her company "Tanztheater Wuppertal" was and is famous for the unrelenting innovation in the approach to dance and the digging into the unspeakable.
The film consists of slices of some retrospektive famous productions by Pina Pausch and then, for the most of the film, commentaries and interpretations of the people in her company, how they saw her, what she meant to them, what they learned form her. In this it is in fact a documentary, but the calm, hidden and very emphatic hand of Wim Wenders give the film a dreamlike finish, in the best sense of the word. Here for once I think the 3D technique comes into itself in a marvelous way - after all, we sit in the audience and feel like we are sitting indeed in the theater and watch the performances ad hoc. It is no story about Pina, she is even seen not too often - though her performance in "Café Müller" is for me heartbreaking - it is more a puzzle of impressions by the people who worked for and with her for often many years. And she is behind this all.
I really was moved to see this film. I understand virtually nothing of dance. My home is more the 17th and 18th century, be it in music and art. But this was different - I was compelled and utterly absorbed - the way another, for me unknown language is applied is almost some sort of a shock. I did not all understand, what she was trying to convey, but I have the feeling, that I understood after all pretty well what she wanted to say. More I cannot tell you about it. I can only tell you, what came to my head and what made me think in a myriad of different directions. There is a stream of associations which were unlocked when I watched the dancers dancing, the surroundings taking its place in the dance and the expression of their faces.
First of all, the sheer bodily capability of control. The very haggard faces of the older dancers, as if they were spent and worn out. Then also the fact, that this are not dancers in the sense of classical ballet - beauties and skinny and etheral - no, here are real people, well trained, but real. Old and young ones, heavy built and skinny, tall and small - all of them with wonderful talking eyes. It touched me to see their eyes.
Then there are some breathtakingly beautiful spaces where the performance is presented - for me rooms are always so important and I was smashed by the beauty of the surroundings - especially a glasstructure in the midst of the woods, then a crate landscape of the "Ruhrpott", the mancreated moonlandscape of coals and steel. The spaces in those industrial buildings are overwhelming - a beauty of majesty and not aggressive, as industrial buildings can often be. At least I did not perceive them as aggressive.
One thing I also noted and I am not sure, if I can convey to you what I mean with this. Just let me say it: This is a very "german" film. In a good sense. Let me give you my impressions, which came floating in and out while watching and then perhaps you understand what I want to say with this. It is very german in the sense of its utter earnestness, the heavy significance, the unspoken tragedy, associations of C.G. Jung, Egon Schiele, early greek fertility rituals in an almost oppressive intellectual interpretation, of "Romantik" in the german sense of Runge and Die Blaue Blume. Of Expressionist paintings. Thomas Mann and Zauberberg. More superficial and therefore not so compelling, Bert Brecht and Kurt Weill.
Even with the dancers coming from all nationalities, it is through and through german. Whatever this means.
Great film. If you have the possibility to see it, do, by all means. Go in with a blank mind and give you over to the impressions - very Romantik in the best sense of the early 19th century Germany.
The film consists of slices of some retrospektive famous productions by Pina Pausch and then, for the most of the film, commentaries and interpretations of the people in her company, how they saw her, what she meant to them, what they learned form her. In this it is in fact a documentary, but the calm, hidden and very emphatic hand of Wim Wenders give the film a dreamlike finish, in the best sense of the word. Here for once I think the 3D technique comes into itself in a marvelous way - after all, we sit in the audience and feel like we are sitting indeed in the theater and watch the performances ad hoc. It is no story about Pina, she is even seen not too often - though her performance in "Café Müller" is for me heartbreaking - it is more a puzzle of impressions by the people who worked for and with her for often many years. And she is behind this all.
I really was moved to see this film. I understand virtually nothing of dance. My home is more the 17th and 18th century, be it in music and art. But this was different - I was compelled and utterly absorbed - the way another, for me unknown language is applied is almost some sort of a shock. I did not all understand, what she was trying to convey, but I have the feeling, that I understood after all pretty well what she wanted to say. More I cannot tell you about it. I can only tell you, what came to my head and what made me think in a myriad of different directions. There is a stream of associations which were unlocked when I watched the dancers dancing, the surroundings taking its place in the dance and the expression of their faces.
First of all, the sheer bodily capability of control. The very haggard faces of the older dancers, as if they were spent and worn out. Then also the fact, that this are not dancers in the sense of classical ballet - beauties and skinny and etheral - no, here are real people, well trained, but real. Old and young ones, heavy built and skinny, tall and small - all of them with wonderful talking eyes. It touched me to see their eyes.
Then there are some breathtakingly beautiful spaces where the performance is presented - for me rooms are always so important and I was smashed by the beauty of the surroundings - especially a glasstructure in the midst of the woods, then a crate landscape of the "Ruhrpott", the mancreated moonlandscape of coals and steel. The spaces in those industrial buildings are overwhelming - a beauty of majesty and not aggressive, as industrial buildings can often be. At least I did not perceive them as aggressive.
One thing I also noted and I am not sure, if I can convey to you what I mean with this. Just let me say it: This is a very "german" film. In a good sense. Let me give you my impressions, which came floating in and out while watching and then perhaps you understand what I want to say with this. It is very german in the sense of its utter earnestness, the heavy significance, the unspoken tragedy, associations of C.G. Jung, Egon Schiele, early greek fertility rituals in an almost oppressive intellectual interpretation, of "Romantik" in the german sense of Runge and Die Blaue Blume. Of Expressionist paintings. Thomas Mann and Zauberberg. More superficial and therefore not so compelling, Bert Brecht and Kurt Weill.
Even with the dancers coming from all nationalities, it is through and through german. Whatever this means.
Great film. If you have the possibility to see it, do, by all means. Go in with a blank mind and give you over to the impressions - very Romantik in the best sense of the early 19th century Germany.
Saturday 4 June 2011
What Diana thinks about it...
Diana Vreeland, the great style icon of the 20th century ... I quote here some of her sayings, found in a book called "D.V." - written by herself and edited by George Plimpton and Christopher Hemphill, 1984/ 1997, New York.
The book is great fun, great gossip and a source of innumerable anecdotes and fashion-wisdom.
The italics are her own:
"Chanel No.5, to me, is still the ideal scent for a woman. She can wear it anywhere, anytime, and everybody - husbands, beaus, taxi drivers - everybody loves it."
"There is a whole school now that says the scent must be faint. This is ridiculous. I´m speaking from the experience of a life-time."
"You should never put scent on immediately after your bath. That´s the biggest mistake going - there´s nothing for it to cling to."
"Elegance is everything in a shoe. ... This is a serious subject with me. At last ... we´re on a serious subject. This isn´t fashion stuff, this is the real thing."
About Roger Vivier Shoes:
"These shoes have been awfully good to me. I´ve been wearing some of them for twenty years - that´s how well they´re made."
"Unshined shoes are the end of civilization."
" I much prefer talk. Good conversation is rare and becoming increasingly so. ... It is totally wonderful when you can experience an evening at someone´s house - a small, intimate gathering - when a good talker takes over and stimulates a good argument."
"Good cooks, jolly fellows - that´s what makes a dinner."
"My favourite dinner partners are the English because they never laugh. I am spellbound and overcome by the mood they create through their language. Their wit is what is so supreme. A funny person is funny only for so long, but a wit can sit down and go on being spellbinding forever. One is not meant to laugh. One stays quiet and marvels. Spontaneously witty talk is without question the most fascinating entertainment there is."
Want more?
The book is great fun, great gossip and a source of innumerable anecdotes and fashion-wisdom.
The italics are her own:
"Chanel No.5, to me, is still the ideal scent for a woman. She can wear it anywhere, anytime, and everybody - husbands, beaus, taxi drivers - everybody loves it."
"There is a whole school now that says the scent must be faint. This is ridiculous. I´m speaking from the experience of a life-time."
"You should never put scent on immediately after your bath. That´s the biggest mistake going - there´s nothing for it to cling to."
"Elegance is everything in a shoe. ... This is a serious subject with me. At last ... we´re on a serious subject. This isn´t fashion stuff, this is the real thing."
About Roger Vivier Shoes:
"These shoes have been awfully good to me. I´ve been wearing some of them for twenty years - that´s how well they´re made."
"Unshined shoes are the end of civilization."
" I much prefer talk. Good conversation is rare and becoming increasingly so. ... It is totally wonderful when you can experience an evening at someone´s house - a small, intimate gathering - when a good talker takes over and stimulates a good argument."
"Good cooks, jolly fellows - that´s what makes a dinner."
"My favourite dinner partners are the English because they never laugh. I am spellbound and overcome by the mood they create through their language. Their wit is what is so supreme. A funny person is funny only for so long, but a wit can sit down and go on being spellbinding forever. One is not meant to laugh. One stays quiet and marvels. Spontaneously witty talk is without question the most fascinating entertainment there is."
Want more?
Wednesday 1 June 2011
Textile Hangings on the Wall
The Power of Wallhangings has been a bit obsolet lately - but it is an instrument for decoration in a house which should not be underestimated. There are several possibilities of displaying lovely textures and fabrics on your walls. Here I will not speak about tapestries, as very few of us have the possibilities to hang those, nor the means to aquire them. I will talk of those easy and affordable examples, which need only a little bit of an eye and imagination.
I grew up with fabric next to my bed - my mother used to hang simple curtains next to our beds on the wall and I have ever since done the same - it gives a room right away another feeling of cosiness.
In all my humble abodes I have always used this simple trick for my children in their rooms - they felt cosy and I think it is lovely for them to fall asleep next to a beautiful textured or designed cosy material, and not to a blank wall.
I also remember in the 1980ies being in England, to visit an old polish aunt - they lived in a smallish house somewhere in the outskirts of London. The room, where I was to sleep, belonged to an uncle, who at the time was not present and I had a room for myself: it was a small darkish room, full of books, and the old Bateaubed had at the wall a kelim and a ceiling hanging in some fabric, which must have been some cashmere paisleyshawl - it was wonderful, with an exotic, oriental and very masculine feeling. Restricted, not luxurious, but full of personality.
At home I found an old kelim, which somehow was waiting for me in the attic and got it in my treasurebox - and when I moved on to university, and had my first room rented, I hang it next to my simple mattress-cum-feet which also doubled as a sofa - a bed-sitting-cum-study. I felt at home and chez moi.
I have used that Kelim ever since as a bedhanging, in all possible places where I lived, be it in Portugal, in Turkey or in Belgium. Recently I had it taken down and actually I miss it. Textiles hanging at the wall make a room lived in and give it a certain atmosphere.
In Turkey I bought, out of utter joy, a wollen wallhanging in vivid green, which I had thrown over a Paravent, standing behind my writing desk in the salon - it was an eyecatcher and made the salon a little bit less formal, gave it a quirk, which I always consider as essential in interior decoration. Nowadays it hangs in the hall in our first floor, over an old trunk I brought with me from Bavaria - it is filled with fabrics of all sorts, and also, if I remember well, my weddingdress.
Also I remember vividly a beautiful embroidery an american friend had ( and hopefully still has!) hanging over a gustavian commode in her flat then in Ankara - every time I was at her place, I admired it and wished to possess one myself.
In Portugal is a very old habit of hanging a huge piece of embroidered or quilted of fabric in front of the doors or over a sofa on the sitting room. Normally those hangings display the armories of the family, to which the rooms belong, and it gives some grandeur and feeling of selfconscioussness to the room. Not to impress, but to convey a feeling to be "at home", in my view.
The most talented of hangers though is my brother in Regensburg. He and my sister in law inhabit one of the most original houses I know - a medieval townhouse, with a smallish and reclused garden in the back. The rooms are small and low, but give you immediatly the impression of coming home - not at least also in their way, how they display kelims and oriental and even african fabrics in the rooms. One of the bedrooms has a bed, which is almost an alcove - I have never slept better than there and the whole idea, coming from the middle ages, to make a room less cold and protect you from a draught has come here to a new meaning: like a smallish place only for yourself, not bare given over to winds and looks from outside.
It must be a very old heritage, this feeling of being safe and secure.
PS: My brother is taking a whole new approach to hanging fabric on a wall - he recently made a series of drawings, gardenscenes and also architecture which after were printed on a longish piece of fabric, which can be hung alone or in a series on the wall - thus providing a sort of background, which gives interest to an otherwise bare room. In the end, it is following in the tradition of the great landscape-wallpapers, which were all the furor in the late 18th century in France and England: just think of the beautiful wallpapers by Zuber in Switzerland, with landscapes in a great scale or chinoiseries. The Regensburg hangings are meant for the small appartment, with little space and a need for having something of interest hanging behind your chair. And so a room is furnished, with more or less nothing...
I grew up with fabric next to my bed - my mother used to hang simple curtains next to our beds on the wall and I have ever since done the same - it gives a room right away another feeling of cosiness.
 |
| Our guestroom in Brussels |
I also remember in the 1980ies being in England, to visit an old polish aunt - they lived in a smallish house somewhere in the outskirts of London. The room, where I was to sleep, belonged to an uncle, who at the time was not present and I had a room for myself: it was a small darkish room, full of books, and the old Bateaubed had at the wall a kelim and a ceiling hanging in some fabric, which must have been some cashmere paisleyshawl - it was wonderful, with an exotic, oriental and very masculine feeling. Restricted, not luxurious, but full of personality.
At home I found an old kelim, which somehow was waiting for me in the attic and got it in my treasurebox - and when I moved on to university, and had my first room rented, I hang it next to my simple mattress-cum-feet which also doubled as a sofa - a bed-sitting-cum-study. I felt at home and chez moi.
I have used that Kelim ever since as a bedhanging, in all possible places where I lived, be it in Portugal, in Turkey or in Belgium. Recently I had it taken down and actually I miss it. Textiles hanging at the wall make a room lived in and give it a certain atmosphere.
 |
| Biedermeier Trunk and turkish woolhanging |
Also I remember vividly a beautiful embroidery an american friend had ( and hopefully still has!) hanging over a gustavian commode in her flat then in Ankara - every time I was at her place, I admired it and wished to possess one myself.
In Portugal is a very old habit of hanging a huge piece of embroidered or quilted of fabric in front of the doors or over a sofa on the sitting room. Normally those hangings display the armories of the family, to which the rooms belong, and it gives some grandeur and feeling of selfconscioussness to the room. Not to impress, but to convey a feeling to be "at home", in my view.
The most talented of hangers though is my brother in Regensburg. He and my sister in law inhabit one of the most original houses I know - a medieval townhouse, with a smallish and reclused garden in the back. The rooms are small and low, but give you immediatly the impression of coming home - not at least also in their way, how they display kelims and oriental and even african fabrics in the rooms. One of the bedrooms has a bed, which is almost an alcove - I have never slept better than there and the whole idea, coming from the middle ages, to make a room less cold and protect you from a draught has come here to a new meaning: like a smallish place only for yourself, not bare given over to winds and looks from outside.
It must be a very old heritage, this feeling of being safe and secure.
PS: My brother is taking a whole new approach to hanging fabric on a wall - he recently made a series of drawings, gardenscenes and also architecture which after were printed on a longish piece of fabric, which can be hung alone or in a series on the wall - thus providing a sort of background, which gives interest to an otherwise bare room. In the end, it is following in the tradition of the great landscape-wallpapers, which were all the furor in the late 18th century in France and England: just think of the beautiful wallpapers by Zuber in Switzerland, with landscapes in a great scale or chinoiseries. The Regensburg hangings are meant for the small appartment, with little space and a need for having something of interest hanging behind your chair. And so a room is furnished, with more or less nothing...
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