A Work in Progress

Teaser Tuesday: Lee Miller

I love biographies and memoirs and don't know why I don't read more of them.  Maybe this will be the start of a new reading path for me.  Even though they often read slowly (then again I read nonfiction very slowly in any case), I tend to find the subject matter of most biographies very engaging.  Certainly Lee Miller was such an intriguing woman--more so than most--and I am finding it hard to put down Carolyn Burke's Lee Miller: On Both Sides of the Camera.  Even with its teeny tiny print (all the more information packed into those pages, right?), I'm happy to spend my work breaks immersed in her life.

I'm not yet very far into the book, only a few chapters, but even by age twenty Miller had gone through some really devastating experiences.  Although I have long been aware of her photography, it was last summer in San Francisco when I saw an exhibit of Miller's and artist Man Ray's work that she became a permanent blip on my radar.  It was only a matter of time before I picked up a book about her and began reading in earnest.  She was Man Ray's muse.  The two were teacher-student and later collaborated and eventually became lovers for a short period.  The exhibit I saw was excellent (I still vividly recall it more than a year later).  A bit about the exhibit:

"From 1929 to 1932, Man Ray and Lee Miller lived together in Paris, first as teacher and student, and later as lovers. Their mercurial relationship resulted in some of the most powerful works of each artist’s career, and helped shape the course of modern art. The two artists inspired each other equally, collaborating on several projects. Though they lived together for only three years, the exhibition examines the lingering effect each had on the other’s art. Connecting photography with other media, the exhibition reveals how the Surrealists combined imagery in unexpected ways, creating extraordinary feats of imagination."

I'm quite tempted to break down and finally splurge on the exhibit catalog Man Ray/Lee Miller: Partners in Surrealism by Phillip Prodger, which I lusted after last year (but the hardcover was just too hefty to drag home in an already full suitcase).  But I digress.  And I am getting ahead of myself (and my reading).

Miller was born Elizabeth Miller in 1907 in Poughkeepsie, New York.  I'm just ready to begin reading about 1925.  She was the favorite child of her father and the middle sibling between an elder and younger brother.  Her family was relatively comfortable middle class--her father ambitious and philandering and her mother in that traditional role of wife and mother, though the family was somewhat bohemian in their thinking and values. So, let me get the darker bits I've read so far over with and I imagine this may well explain a lot about Miller and her life along the way . . .  At the age of seven she was raped by an acquaintance and contracted gonorrhea.  It was an extremely traumatic experience, which would stay with her for the rest of her life.  

Needless to say she was a very complex woman and I suspect that will be true as well about her relationships later in life as well as about her art. My teaser, however, is far more mundane.  I just read this bit today and it's an example of what I love so much about biographies and memoirs from this era.  I like learning all about the milieu of the subject, and in the case of Miller, she was a teenager just at the  time when life was getting interesting for women. Yes, flappers.

"Elizabeth's teenage years coincides with the first half of the 1920s, when an upheaval in the mores of young people preoccupied the country.  Critics blamed this permissiveness on the end of the war, the returned soldiers' hedonism, the movies, and, once Prohibition was enacted, the thrill of clandestine drinking--since to drink meant to break the law and consort with bootleggers and other lowlife.  Others pointed to the changes in women's lives.  Middle-clas girls left home to work in the cities even though their parents could support them; those who stayed home enjoyed greater freedom from surveillance due to the motorcar."

Welcome to modernity, yes?  And I think Miller was going to be a very modern woman indeed.  I have also brought home from the library Lee Miller's War by Antony Penrose to read, or at least look at, in tandem with this biography.  I also have a video about her waiting for me and I might find another book or two on the library's shelves to give a broader picture about Lee Miller and her world.  I'm sure I'll have more to say about this one later.

Meeting the Author: Dan Yaccarino

This past Saturday artist Dan Yaccarino gave a talk at my local art museum, which I had been looking forward to.  He writes and illustrates the most delightful children's books.  Many of the over fifty books he's written are award winning.  As you can see he has a very inviting and colorful style very retro in feel, which is perhaps why I am so drawn to them.

He spoke to a nice size crowd that included lots of families but was diverse, too, in age range.  He told us his talk would be similar to the sort he normally gives to schools and children's audiences.  Apparently he had already spent time at a local elementary school (the same one my niece attended) as well as read some of his books to children at one or two of the different branches of my public library.  This was his third day in Omaha and I'm glad he got at least one sunny (though still cool, sadly) day out of his visit. 

Since it's picture books he creates, he had visuals to go along with his talk.  A very articulate and well-spoken man he obviously enjoys what he does immensely and it shows in how he talks about his work.  Judging by the laughter elicited from the younger members of the audience (and from the adults, too!), he has a very good sense of humor, which surely you must need to write children's books.  There are adults (and I am sure I am one of them) who have forgotten what it's like to be a child, but I don't think he has--no doubt that's part of his success.

I wish I had taken notes, but I just wanted to sit back and enjoy listening to him, but I hope I can at least share a few impressions.  In his slide show he shared photos of himself growing up, as well as his artwork from when he was very young.  He said he's lucky as he's known from an early age on what he wanted to do when he grew up.  He's always been creative and has nurtured and worked on his craft.  He attended art school, changing and perfecting his style until it has become 'his' style. 

He not only writes and illustrates books, but has illustrated the work of others, has had several cartoon series (including Oswald and Willa's Wild Life) and created a number of animated shorts.  He showed us several 'excerpts' from his animation, which were all very cool.  He said he loves drawing octopuses and has used members of his family, including his children, in his work. 

It was interesting to see what his work process is like.  He begins with sketches--smallish panels with each scene/page mapped out, which he may later cut apart and move around depending on how he decides to tell his story.  The illustrations come first, since that's the focus of a picture book.  He tries to tell as much of the story through those illustrations, and the things he can't convey through his paintings he sets down in words.  The cover comes last as that is what is the initial eye-catcher.  And I think his books are indeed very eye-catching.  He works mainly in gouache because of the luminosity of the colors as well as watercolor.  His last book published, however, he created through digital means. 

After the talk he signed books.  Actually he didn't just sign them, he illustrated them, too.

Yes, I gave in to temptation and added to my own collection.  How could I pass up buying a signed book?

This is my favorite.  It's from Kate and Nate Are Running Late by Kate Egan and illustrated by Dan Yaccarino.  I also brought home All the Way to America: The Story of a Big Italian Family, which is autobiographical (he said he was a little nervous about this one as it felt as if he was opening himself up to the world writing about his personal life), and Cooking with Henry and Elliebelly, which he illustrated but was written by Carolyn Parkhurst. 

And one more illustration to leave you with.  This is from the back inside cover of All the Way to America.  Can you tell he is inspired by those around him?  A family portrait I suspect. 

The Joslyn Art Museum has been running a whole series of exhibits of artists who do illustrations for children's books.  Up next is Raul Colon and in the fall artwork from Dr. Suess's The Lorax will be on display.  I'm looking forward to more new discoveries.

Fantastic World of Dan Yaccarino

Do you know Dan Yaccarino's art?  I've just recently been introduced to his children's books and now I am a fan.  Over the weekend I visited my local fine arts museum to see an exhibit of his work.  Actually it was my second visit as I wanted a closer look.  I thought you might like to see it, too, so I took my camera along.  He's going to be at the museum on April 13, so I hope to attend his lecture.

There are about seventy paintings on display from fourteen of the books he's written and illustrated since 1997.

One of his more recent books is The Fantastic Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau.

I love Mr. Night from Good Night, Mr. Night.  It's a sweet book, somewhat unlike his more recent illustrations, in which Mr. Night calms the world in preparation for sleep.

In Every Friday a little boy looks forward to his Friday walk with  his father through his neighborhood, watching all the people and doing all their errands ending up at their favorite diner for breakfast.  Also very sweet and a lovely little weekly ritual (one an adult can appreciate, too!).

I've started my own little collection of Dan Yaccarino's books.  It's only a pity I don't know any small children to share them with, but surely you're never too old for children's books, right?

I think my next purchase is going to be All the Way to America: The Story of a Big Italian Family and a Little Shovel.

Aren't these paintings wonderful?  I love their bold colors, sharp lines and retro style!  Now I'm looking forward to hearing Yaccarino speak.  A fantastic world indeed! 

From the Diary of Kathe Kollwitz

I've been spending lots of time with my diary anthology and am hoping to finish this weekend.  I was struck by the excerpt of German artist Käthe Kollwitz, whose work I am familiar with but of whom I knew very little about biographically.  She was a graphic artist and sculptor.  She was the first woman to be elected to the Berlin Academy (in 1919) and served as the director for the Academy's masterclasses for graphic art from 1928 until she was dismissed by the Nazis in 1932.  Despite this she was one of the foremost artists of the country.

Not only was one of her son's killed in 1914 in WWI but a grandson died in battle on the Russian Front in 1942 during WWII.  Her anguish and antiwar attitude are apparent in her work, which was banned by Hitler in 1936.  "She loved Germany but came to reject the concept of sacrifice of youth for nationalistic ideals."  Since I've been reading about WWI these excerpts seem particularly poignant.  I've read very little about the war from a German perspective and really do need to broaden my horizons a bit.

August 22, 1916

Stagnation in my work.

When I feel so parched, I almost long for the sorrow again.  And then when it comes back I feel it stripping me physically of all the strength I need for work.

Made a drawing: the mother letting her dead son slide into her arms.  I  might make a hundred such drawings and yet I do not get any closer to him.  I am seeking him.  As if I had to find him in the work . . .

March 19, 1918

. . . If all the people who have been hurt by the way were to exclude joy from their lives, it would almost be as if they had died.  Men without joy seem like corpses . . .

. . . At the beginning it would have been wholly impossible for me to conceive of letting the boys go as parents must let their boys go now, without inwardly affirming it--letting them go to the slaughterhouse.  That is what changes everything.  The feeling that we were betrayed then, at the beginning.  And perhaps Peter would still be living had it not been for this terrible betrayal.  Peter and millions, many millions of other boys.  All betrayed . . .

October 1, 1918

. . . Wildly contradictory feelings.  Germany is losing the war . . . Will the patriotic emotion flare up once more so powerfully that a last-ditch defense will start? . . . not another day of war when it is clear that the war is lost.

Reading Woman in a Sunlit Room

"Girl Reading in a Sunlit Room", by Carl Holsoe (1863-1935), Connaught Brown, London

The beauty of a library.  They don't just have books (though for me that's the most important thing they do have)...mine also has a scanner!  Not to be outdone by a no-longer-compatible home scanner I have access to a nice, high tech scanner.  Granted it is not as convenient as having one at home, but I am sure I can find a good inexpensive one after the holidays. 

Setting up a computer was a not so very fun interlude in my week, but I think I have things back to normal.  Now I can get back to the books.   I'll just mention one thing before I get back on my regular posting schedule tomorrow--I have started reading Helen Hull's Quest.  Although I brought home a different book last week, her first book (which I couldn't help requesting) came in via ILL just a few days ago, so I have started reading it instead.  Library due dates have a way with reshuffling your TBR pile.  I'm very much enjoying it so far.  It's a coming of age story about a midwestern girl named Jean. 

"First published in 1922, Quest presented a feminist model of growth in a world of newly expanding opportunities for women.  Its message, though, is also timeless, since Jean's victory is that of all children who refuse to relive mistakes of their parents and who attempt to move beyond the societal restrictions of their day."

The novel is broken up into sections, which seem to cover a different part of Jean's life as she grows up and within those sections are short chapters.  The story is very episodic in nature so it feels almost like interlinked vignettes, but it works nicely.  As it is due back at the library late next week I may be spending lots of time with this one in the next few days, and will hopefully be writing about it soon.

The Reading Woman (& Holiday Wishes)

"Woman Reading", by Adrian Paul Allinson (1890-1959), 1940, Waterman Fine Art Ltd, London

I was going to look for a suitably appropriate picture in honor of Thanksgiving, but as not everyone who drops by here will be celebrating the holiday and I couldn't find a reading woman sitting at table while eating her turkey and stuffing (or vegan enchiladas as the case may be!), I opted for this very pretty picture.  I'd say there is plenty of bounty to be thankful for here as well--a book, a window with a view (I'd love a garden like that), and a sunny day.  I call that bliss and would have a contented look on my face, too.  Anyone want to hazard a guess as to what she is reading?  Nice, big thick book....Wilkie Collins maybe?  No Name?  Okay, maybe that would be me (I've picked my copy back up again, by the way).

If you happen to be celebrating the holiday, I hope you have a very happy and safe day.  I'll be spending it with my family and doing my best to keep the calorie count well (well, well!) down.  If you aren't celebrating I hope you have a sunny, book-filled day.  I'll be back on Sunday with more bookish adventures.

Happy reading all!

The Reading Woman (& Snow)

"The Browning Readers" by Sir William Rothenstein (English, 1872-1945), 1900, Bradford Art Galleries and Museums

I guess summer is officially over now.  We had our first snowfall yesterday.  The previous day was gorgeous with over 70F temps, and then it plummeted yesterday.  I had to pull out my scarf and gloves.  At lunchtime I looked out the window at work and it was snowing furiously outside--big fluffy flakes.  I have to admit it was really pretty to see the pine trees covered in snow, but I still did an internal shudder.  Snow.  I'm just not ready, but I consider myself lucky as by the time I went home in the evening it had mostly melted.  I know the East Coast was slammed with snow already, so this was just a very tiny preview of things to come later (hopefully much later). 

So there are loads of paintings with women sitting in gardens and by sunny windows reading, but not so many that include snow.  Not a single one as a matter of fact that I could find.  Not that I expect a woman to be sitting outside in her winter coat reading, but maybe a view outside of a window?  This was as close as I could come, though I must say, stoke up that fire, put on a shawl and get out a nice warm blanket.  That's what I plan on doing now as a matter of fact.  I am within the last one hundred pages of two books, and if you'll excuse me I just want to go and read.  I'm going to play hooky from blogging tonight even though I was going to write about Alan Bennett's The Uncommon Reader.  Watch for that post next week!

By the way, did anyone watch Case Histories on PBS?  I only half watched them as I have only read the first Jackson Brodie book by Kate Atkinson.  What I saw, I liked!  I'm putting those three episodes on my holiday wishlist, and guess what book I dug out of my piles?  Yes, One Good Turn.  I hope to read it soon.  But no new books until I finish a few first.

The Reading Woman (& a Virus!)

"La Liseuse" by Georges Croegaert (Belgian, 1848-1923), Roy Miles, Esq.

I may be offline for a few days.  My computer has a virus and so far nothing I have tried is making it go away.  It may call for drastic measures.  I have a 'redirect virus'--when I type in a search in my browser and click on a link I go somewhere I don't want to.  It's not only hugely annoying but also worrisome.  I have tried a number of different malware removers and even followed a tutorial thinking I had cleaned out everything, but no luck.  None of the obvious fixes have worked.  If anyone has any suggestions on how to get rid of this I'd be happy to hear possible solutions.  I may just have to break down and pay an expert to help me get rid of it.  It seems quite tenacious so I am afraid to pay out cash and then not have the problem fixed, but I think I can't take care of this one on my own sadly. 

I'd much rather recline on the sofa and read--much like this reading woman in doing.  (Of course if my computer goes away to get worked on, maybe this woman will be me while it's being repaired...).

The Reading Woman & a Few Notes

"Woman Reading by Candlelight" by Peter Vilhelm Ilsted (Danish, 1861-1933), 1908, Connaught Brown, London

Isn't this a wonderful painting?  It's very fitting somehow for this time of year.  And it's going to be me later as I finish reading Jojo Moyes's Last Letter from Your Lover, which I can't put down--being at the point of no return storywise.  Just as well, that, as it is now officially two days overdue at the library and I am determined to return it tomorrow morning before work.  Racking up library fines once again!

I might not have had to burn the midnight oil had I not spent a fruitless hour last night looking for Muriel Sparks's The Girls of Slender Means.  I really hate it when I know I own a book, but I can't find it anywhere.  My little book room has gotten completely out of control.  I am usually pretty good at knowing roughly where a book is--which pile or bookcase, but my room (and it really is small) has gotten so full of stuff (unfortunately it has become a space for my niece's cast off items--doesn't she know it's only for my books?....) that I can barely navigate it and am constantly tipping over piles or having to move bins around to get to a shelf.  I'm in dire need of some reorganization, and more space for more bookshelves would be nice, too.  And I don't know about you, but when I decide I want a book (and I know it's is just within my reach...somewhere) I have to have it now.  Piles were shifted, books were moved, but it is now MIA, I guess.  Not that I'm necessarily going to start reading right at this particular moment, but I'll obsess about it until I have it safely in my hand. 

Maybe it wasn't a totally wasted hour of searching.  I brought with me to my bedside pile Katherine Anne Porter's Pale Horse, Pale Rider and Anne Tyler's The Amateur Wedding.  Not that I'm going to read those either right now, but I can at least contemplate doing so before they get shuffled back downstairs to my book room.  It's a little game I play with my books.  Some might call it a sickness, but I prefer to think of it as an intellectual hobby with the added benefit of a short cardio workout. 

Happy reading everyone.

The Reading Woman (in Garden!)

"Woman Reading in the Garden" (English School, ca. 1920), Gavin Graham Gallery, London

I wish this were me right now!  Isn't this a lovely painting?  Reading in the garden sounds like bliss at the moment and the weather has even been extremely cooperative this week, so it would be a pleasant time spent there. 

Sorry about my lazy posts (though it's nice to have something pretty to share...what will I do when my postcards run out?).  The last few nights I've spent helping my 12-year old niece with her homework.  Have to say I'm rusty on both the metric system and pinpointing the right degree latitude and longitude on a map.  I suppose it is a good refresher, but it means there's not much left to my evening when we finish (just enough time for a hurried post).  The weekend isn't too far away, is it?