in the Cottage Garden:
Shakespeare's Twelfth Night (unabridged)! [Captions from the script appear above each corresponding photo.]
"If music be the food of love, play on."
"What country, friends, is this?"
"By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o' nights."
[Patrick.]
"I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a barren rascal."
"He's but mad yet, Madonna, and the fool shall look to the madman."
"I will on with my speech in your praise, and then show you the heart of my message."
"I am bound to the Count Orsino's court. Farewell."
"Were not you even now with the Countess Olivia?"
"Would you have a love song, or a song of good life?"
"What a caterwauling do you keep here!"
"My masters, are you mad?"
"Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's favour at any thing more than contempt, you would not give means for this uncivil rule."
"If I do not gull him into a nayword, and make him a common recreation, do not think I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed. I know I can do it. "
"My purpose is indeed a horse of that color."
"But if she cannot love you, sir?"
"Get ye all three into the box tree: Malvolio's coming down this walk."
"Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em."
"I could marry this wench for this device.
--So could I too"
"Nay, but say true, does it work upon him?"
[The scenes above were from Acts I and II.]
Too bad the rhododendrons weren't blooming!
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Gorgeous scenery by Mary Maggio-Smith and others
Beautiful costumes by amazing seamstress Hope Giambalvo (age 16) assisted by Mary Smith and others
Directed by Kari Riess
Our children's parts:
Agnes: "Maria"
Theresa: "Viola"
Margaret: "Feste the Clown"
Marie, Patrick, and Maureen: sign carriers
A day in May begins with Twelfth Night practice.
Our director gave notes to the cast:
in the shade of a large oak:
A sword fight broke out (and, no, this was not part of the play):
We observed the Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus with a small altar (can you find it?):
Here is a closer view:
And here it is again after the younger ones (the brothers and sisters of cast members) spent the day adding flowers to it!
A birthday was celebrated:
Make that two birthdays:
And a good time was had by all!
[From left to right: Maria, Feste, and Sir Andrew Aguecheek conspire against Malvolio.]
"Nothing is a waste of time if you use the experience wisely."
--Auguste Rodin
By popular demand ("popular" meaning, at least one or two people), I give you Rodin's Thinker in cream cheese (circa 2001):
"The modes of expression of men of genius differ as much as their souls."
--Auguste Rodin
Several years ago, Brigid O'Neill and I were emailing each other back and forth commiserating. Our local homeschooling group was supposed to be having a "World's Fair" of sorts. The details of this ill-fated event are unimportant now--suffice to say the Fair was canceled at the last minute because of Chicken Pox. Ever the clever one, Brigid emailed me a photograph of the project she had been working on to represent France--an enormous Eiffel Tower made entirely out of sugar wafers! This marvel of icing and engineering--looking for all the world like a collaboration between Leonardo and the Keebler Elf--would never see the light of day.
Eager to make Brigid laugh, I showed the pictures to dh, asking for his help. What if we were to make something huge, I suggested, say, an Arc de Triomphe out of kitchen utensils, photograph it, and email it to her? It would make her chuckle no doubt. Dh, oddly enough, was not keen on a massive (and almost pointless) building project at eleven o'clock at night.
With the muscle behind the operation headed off to bed, practically no materials or ideas, and a desperate, overwhelming need to make Brigid laugh, I turned to the only thing in the house still humming at that hour--the refrigerator. Swiping a cold block of cream cheese from the door and slipping it out of its silvery case, I set to work smoothing and pinching and poking and giggling to myself until I had a pint-sized replica of Rodin's Thinker. Photographing it from all angles, I wrote to Brigid triumphantly, "You think you're disappointed? Look what I was going to bring!"
It was absurd and ridiculous and hysterical, of course, and Brigid wore out her L-O-L keys responding, printing the photos to display in her kitchen from that day forward.
Now, it is a little known fact that, in order to appreciate fine arts and sculpture fully, one must first replicate it in cream cheese, so you can imagine my great joy when we stumbled upon San Francisco's famous statue of the Thinker at the Legion of Honor Art Museum. (Of course, Rodin's piece was not as sensitive and unique as mine, nor can it be served on a bagel, but it has its merits too.)
Our happy discovery took place a little over two weeks ago. The children and I left home early with no definite plans other than a stop at Peet's Coffee. Sipping my latte in the car (life here is so hard), we mulled over possibilities for the day--the San Francisco Zoo? Golden Gate Park? The Muir Woods?
I suggested a patch of green on the map called "Lincoln Park," and the children were eager to try it, hoping for slides and a swingset. The park is an easy drive from our house, yet, for some reason, it never even occurred to me to go there, perhaps because the lure of Golden Gate Park has always been so great. Imagine my surprise to find a rolling golf course overlooking a panorama of the Pacific Ocean and Golden Gate Bridge. In the center of this verdant kingdom of grass and golfballs sat Rodin's Thinker, contemplating his next stroke and enthroned in the columned courtyard of an architectural jewel of an art museum. The Legion of Honor is crammed with works by Monet, Reynolds, Rembrandt, Durer, El Greco, Manet, Bougereau, Rodin, and others, not to mention one of the largest and most stirring collections of religious artwork we have ever seen.
I was thrilled, feeling as if we had just landed with a thump at the end of a rainbow, though it was bittersweet finding the pot of gold so late in our trip. There had been many afternoons and mornings we would have spent wandering the hallways of that museum if we had known of its existence. Joining as members, we began making up for lost time, visiting at every opportunity--not only to the Legion of Honor, but also the de Young Museum, its sister in Golden Gate Park--so much so that the curators and docents now smile with recognition everytime they see us.
Apparently, they appreciate a young family fond of the arts--then again, perhaps my reputation precedes me. Can't you just hear them whispering in awed tones, "There she goes--New York's Cheesiest Artist!"
[Amended to add a link to the photos of The Thinker in cream cheese: Give the People What They Want]
[Please click here for a few more photographs. I put them on a separate page so this one would not be too hard to load.]
[Most of this post was written on August 7, 2007.]
Working in the learning room this morning, I found myself drawn to the window, impulsively flinging it open, and exclaiming, "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate!" Needless to say, we were all outside in about two minutes, marveling at the beauty and warmth of a late November day.
Last week, I wrote a post declaring: "From now on, the last day of the week will be known as Fine Arts Friday around here."
Believe it or not, in saying that, I actually had not intended to post about the arts each Friday. [Experience has taught me that the posts I am least likely to write are the ones I promise publicly. Case in point: Have you seen any spoons saints carnivals lately?] Although it was worded ambiguously, I meant that we would call the end of the week "Fine Arts Friday" here at our house.
Still, your encouraging comments on "Fine Arts Friday" helped me see that a series of posts on the subject would be an enjoyable project. Whenever possible, I will try to post something about the arts on Fridays, with the fervent hope that you dear ones will share your own "Fine Arts Friday" posts now and then. It would be an honor to link to you here and learn from your sense of beauty for the eye, ear, heart and mind.
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Here is our "Fine Arts Friday" exhibit, for November 17, 2006, the Feast of St. Elizabeth of Hungary--ten watercolors depicting the characters from "A Midsummer Night's Dream," lovingly wrought by my nine-year-old daughter, Margaret.
As readers of Cottage Blessings may already know, the children and their friends will be performing this Shakespearian romp sometime in the Spring. Margaret, ideally cast as the happy-go-lucky, Puck, filled an entire spiral watercolor paper book inventing costume designs, adding her favorite lines from each character for the pure joy of it!
Titania (Agnes):
Cobweb (Marie):
Hermia (Theresa):
Egeus:
Oberon:
Helena:
Hippolyta:
Nick Bottom:
Puck (Margaret):
A row over the changeling boy (work in progress):
Many of these paintings were created in our newly-converted garage-turned-art-studio, but that too remains a work in progress:
Thank you for this opportunity to thumb through the pages of Margaret's book together! Oh, and please look for the spoon saints round-up this weekend!
or, the first installment of What I am Thankful For.
Friday afternoon, I was thankful because A Midsummer Night's Dream was being rehearsed in the living room, singing lessons were ringing out in the dining room, and a massive art exhibit created by the children was being assembled on the front lawn--all at the same time.
From now on, the last day of the week will be known as Fine Arts Friday around here!
Please head over to Joyful Chaos to see what others are thankful for this week.
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This towering art project, the brain child of my friend Mary S., is quite easy to manage with one or a group of children. We took digital photos, printed the images onto transfer paper, ironed them to canvas, and had the children paint round the borders. Mary screwed the canvases together to create a tower taller than the artists themselves! My girls and boy were quite pleased with their entries, and readers of Cottage Garden with recognize almost all of their selected photos:
[Agnes' Mantis]
[Margaret's Nest]
[Theresa's Bucket of Flowers]
[Marie and the Pumpkins]
[Patrick's Canoe]
The canoe in Patrick's photo has quite a bit of history, by the way. It belonged to my father who used it to fish the Delaware River for many happy years. Now it is owned and cared for by my cousin at his dock. I'm thinking Patrick's painting might make a meaningful gift for my mother, and that most of us could adapt this project to delight a grandparent or two at Christmas.
Baby Maureen either has a lofty perception of me or she plans on trading me in.
Yesterday afternoon, she picked up a copy of "What Makes a Leonardo a Leonardo," thumbed to the page with the image of the Mona Lisa and began signaling and squealing animatedly, "Look! It's Mommy! Mommy! It's Mommy!" following up with a cascade of kisses to the famous face and devoted murmurs of "I love you, Mommy!"
By the way, but for the brown hair, there is no resemblance whatsoever--except, of course, that we are both beginning to crack with age!
"Innocence" by William Bourguereau, 19th Century, France
This ethereal painting graces the mantle of our cottage. A gift from a friend, it is and always will be one of my most treasured possessions. Our Lady, in all her pure radiance and loveliness, turns away from our gaze, so absorbed is she in her sleeping infant. Her expression of loving devotion and contemplation beckons us to look, not upon her beauty, but upon her beloved Son. She embraces Him with tenderness, but with the firm grasp of a mother who wishes, as I often do, that she could hold onto her Child and the moment forever. To the right, also in Our Lady's care, is a lamb, the symbol of innocence and sacrifice. Our Lady embraces the Lamb unreservedly, but her eyes and countenance turn away from it, almost as if she cannot bear to contemplate the sacrifice that her blameless, blessed babe will endure.
Seeing a lamb in Our Lady's arms also brings to mind my first child, Agnes, whose name means "lamb," while the sleeping baby with the downy head and milky shoulders looks quite a bit like little Maureen. I have often gazed at this picture envisioning Our Lady holding both my eldest and youngest children, and, in so doing, symbolically cradling all of my young ones. She is, after all, their mother too and loves each one dearly. They need only to go to her, and she will take them gladly in her loving arms and present them to her Son. This painting never lets me forget that.
I am not usually one for decorating, but "Innocence" formed the central inspiration for all the other colors and furnishings in the cottage. Our muted green walls and sepia-toned floral fabrics, with hints of ivory and pink hue, were all taken from the colors in this piece of art. We have soft rose vines hand painted round it, to represent Our Lady, the Mystical Rose. The vines draw the eye to the gilded frame bordering the picture, while the frame draws the eye to the Blessed Mother, and the Blessed Mother draws all eyes to Her Son. In this way, as in reality, Our Lady is the frame for Our Lord. I like to think that, through these furnishings and decorations, Our Immaculate Mother Mary has symbolically permeated the cottage, in the same way that her influence and guidance must permeate our lives and our hearts.
