A friend recently wrote that she is "not a museum person". Hm. My first reaction after reading that sentence was: I am totally a museum person! I would happily visit almost any type of museum I can name: Art, history, natural science, heck, even a sports museum might hold my interest at least for a while. I have been to some quirky ones over the years too that have made for some fond memories.
While visiting my friend Lynda in Florida, she and I took a tour of the Ringling Museums and of the Ca d'Zan, the mansion that circus legends John and Mable Ringling built right on the clear aqua blue water's edge on the lovely white sand of Sarasota beach.
The art museum houses an impressive collection of all types of work, and even contemporary galleries, but especially Baroque paintings and features some stunning works by Peter Paul Rubens.
The circus museum was pure delight with articles, costumes, photographs, carved circus wagons and even a diesel truck that was converted to the cannon some brave souls were shot out of to the awe of crowds in the early 20th century.
The Ca d'Zan was, however, no question, the pie'ce de resistance.
Built in the 1920's by Mable Ringling and inspired by Venetian palaces, the house has recently undergone extensive renovation and restoration and beautifully displays her legacy, now nearly 100 years later. This is where she and her husband lived and entertained society, throwing lavish parties on the marble patio while orchestras played and their yacht took guests for tours around the bay.
I was most taken with the windows and their tinted panes.
Someday I want to have window panes just like these, they are simply delightful and just as Mabel knew they would, create lovely flattering pastel light inside the home.
I have always been fascinated by houses, both monumental and spectacular such as the Ca d'Zan and yet also by the very humble and even the very poorest of shelters humans have made themselves since we moved out of caves so long ago. I think it was my friend Andrea who called houses "people containers" once when we were discussing the idea, and I think she was so right. They certainly are one way to leave a legacy, or at the very least, a story about the lives that were carried on between their walls.
The next house I visited on the trip was perhaps more moving to my soul than even this jewel by the sea, and it was most certainly much more humble. I'll tell you about that "people container" in my next post.
There is a memorial to the dead prince to be unveiled next week in London's Trafalgar Square. Its title is "Iraq War Memorial featuring the Death of Prince Harry, the Martyr of Maysan Province". Its creator is artist Daniel Edwards.
The piece shows a mutilated Harry laid out before the Union Jack with his head resting on a Bible and pennies placed over his eyes. The statue clutches a bloodied flag of Wales and in his hand, held fast to his heart is a cameo locket of his late mother, Princess Diana. A desert vulture perches on his boot and looks towards the fallen soilder's face.
What? You didn't hear about the Prince being killed or even being deployed to the war?
Well, that is because he was not. This work of art is not about the actual death of Prince Harry, but instead is a symbolic representation honoring those willing but unable to serve in the Iraq conflict. Poised to fight and to be quite the celebrated soilder, Harry was kept home due to "specific threats to kill or kidnap him".
The memorial was inspired by the Prince's "willingness to sacrifice for this country, and the sympathy for his disappointment of an unfulfilled patriotic aspiration."
Harry had stated he would leave the army if he was left in safety while his regiment was sent to a war zone. “Prince Harry’s spirit must have died the day they told him he couldn’t serve,” speculates New York artist Daniel Edwards. “That’s what this memorial is about."
As a bonus to the artwork a bronze casting of Prince Harry's severed ears is also set for display and will be offered at auction on Ebay. (This piece denoting the explicit threats by militia leaders to send him back to his grandmother without his ears).
Read more at Princeharrymemorial.com.
Some of you might know that besides running this business at In Repose I am also an artist and photographer. Most days I work on both pursuits, albeit separately. Sometimes my businesses cross paths and create interesting intersections in my life.
Today I read about Inkafterlife.com. The thing is, before even finishing the news article, I found myself thinking; "I knew this was coming. It was only a matter of time."
I mean, there are urns and paintings and pencils and jewelery, and now, there are ink jet photographs combined with cremation ash available to memorialize your loved one. Starting at 49.00 you can print a grey scale photograph that has ash mixed right into the ink.
I can just hear the photographers I know who print their work at home mulling this one over considering all of the trials and tribulations of ink jet printers, and their piles of prints that were unusable in some way. What if the color is off? A streak on the photograph? What about (gasp!) a paper jam?
Do you just throw away those prints? And from the ashes perspective, there is always the question "How do I know they used my loved one's ashes anyway?" Heck, how do you know they used ashes at all? Wouldn't it tend to clog up the print heads? I should think so.
What about the photo itself? Will it be a point and shoot of Grandpa that someone took with a 2 megapixel camera at the lowest resolution setting that would look horrible printed up at 8x10? No? Should we send in something nicer? What about using that professional photograph you splurged on last year at the reunion? Wait a second...What about that little thing called COPYRIGHT?
You cannot just send in a professional photographer's print and have it duplicated in anyway by anyone without written permission from the creator of the image. Its illegal.
I looked for any mention of copyright considerations at Inkafterlife.com. I found it in their terms and conditions.
As a user, you are authorized only to view, copy, print, and distribute documents on this Web site so long as (1) the document is used for informational purposes only, and (2) any copy of the document (or portion thereof) includes the following copyright notice: Copyright © 2007 inkafterlife.com. All rights reserved.
Not one word is mentioned on the website about the copyrights held by photographers nor the way to seek permission to use copyrighted photographs.
My advice would be to spend the 50.00 toward getting a lovely portrait made of your loved ones before they are gone, by a photographer whose style you love. Here is a photograph of my dad and his dog Murphy who lived a long and wonderful 16 years and is sorely missed.
Lets ask my dad if that photo would mean any more to him if her ashes were mixed into the print.
Photograph Copyright Candace Craw-Goldman 2006
My guess is that he would say "No way".
An Article by Jamie Sue Austin for In Repose
Hair is at once the most delicate and lasting of our materials, and survives us, like love. It is so light, so gentle, so escaping from the idea of death, that with a lock of hair belonging to a child or friend, we may almost look up to heaven and compare notes with the angelic nature–may almost say, "I have a piece of thee here, not unworthy of thy being now.”
The Godey’s Lady’s Book of May 1855
(photo courtesy Morning Glory Antiques)
Showcased in a small town salon against dark paneled walls and ancient bonnet dryers; a myriad of antique hair appliances offer a constant source of conversation for the loyal patrons. The focal point, a large Victorian flowered wreath, catches the attention of almost every customer. The wreath is beautiful and intricate. It is also made entirely of human hair.
Hair art was common throughout the Victorian era. Complex wreaths, simple lockets, elaborate bracelets, toothpick holders, earrings and every other manner of decoration were made from hair. Hair art was used for a variety of functions from recording family history to tokens of affection exchanged between lovers. Naturally, hair art also became a popular means to memorialize loved ones who had passed on. Mourning jewelry created with hair was intensely popular because it did not violate the strict code of conduct Victorian society imposed upon the conduct and dress of grieving persons. In this capacity hair art is best remembered. The hair of individuals and sometimes entire families can still be found intricately crafted and solemnly tucked behind glass frames or behind jeweler’s cases at antique stores.
Similar to the virtual memorial, hair art offered people a way to connect with the memories of those they loved. Pieces were lovingly and painstakingly crafted. Family members themselves constructed their own talismans of solace, hiring a jeweler to add only the final touches such as pin backs and clasps. Commercial hair weavers created ready-made and custom pieces for the population. There is a beautiful variety in the construction, design, and color of hair art pieces. This makes hair art and hair jewelry very collectible.
The curious can learn more about hair art at Leila’s Hair Museum, which claims to be the only museum of its kind in the world. It currently houses a collection of over two thousand pieces. For the modern collector hair art offers a unique connection with the past. Pieces can be found online on popular auction sites or at antique stores like Morning Glory Antiques. There are still works of hair art being produced today. The Victorian Hair Artist’s Guild offer information about hair art and contact details for individual artists. Commissioned pieces are generally quite expensive due to the amount of time involved in their creation.
Funeral customs have changed over the last century, but the feelings of loss experienced by people today are no less poignant. The inspiration to create in honor of a loved one is almost universal. It is no wonder why families in the past turned to hair art as a means of preservation for their most precious of memories. These relics give all of us an opportunity to view a beautiful and touching piece of our country’s history.
(Special Thank you to Morning Glory Antiques for the lovely photos.)
There is something so elemental and beautiful about bones.
I have a collection of deer antlers in my china cabinet. I just pick them up when I am walking outside or riding my horse and end up taking them home.
I have a little path behind a shed I call my "bone walk". When I find deer leg bones, cattle pelvis bones, possum skulls or the like, I line that path with them. At night various animals gnaw on them, presumably for the calcium and my tidy lines become raggedly. Sometimes the bones disappear altogether.
There is a place high on the hill behind our home where the coyotes have their dinner and leave behind collections of skins and bones. Skulls, vertebrae, and leg bones form odd groupings throughout the year. I try hard not to look too hard for cat skeleton bones, as one of our dear felines made for a nice coyote dinner sometime last October.
Some artists make bones the center of their creative work. Allen Berry does just that. Here is a piece he calls "Lady Luck"
"My work is my life. Simple as that. It is the reason. Without it, I would be nothing. It is an extension of my thoughts and beliefs. I use bones quite a lot because of their beautiful shapes as well as their spiritual significance . . . With my art; I question my own beliefs and form my own spiritual structure.... I can actually reach out and touch a sculpture and walk around it and that makes it more real to me. Because perhaps, the physical is the only real truth we have... "
This quote is from an article written about Berry by Jamie Sue Austin for In Repose. To read the article and to see more of Berry's work please visit the Resource Forum at In Repose HERE.
(Look for more interesting articles at In Repose by Jamie Sue Austin. Welcome aboard Jamie Sue.)
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