Saturday, September 12, 2009

What Would it Be????

Besides the kids, the pet, the family photos, the diamonds (I only have my wedding rings, and I wear them all the time), what would be the one thing - okay, a work of art...or not...a prized possesion, that you would grab when the house (God forbid) was: on fire, about to be flooded, blown away...etc.?
This is my most prized piece of art. I have paintings and photographs that I have done over the years, but let's face it, a five x three foot painting isn't going to fit in the Buick.

This is what I prize most.....It is a Wall Bracket, and it's by Michelangelo (really)...I am not sure if this is a man or a lion, but he is wonderful...

Here's the story: Over twenty years ago, we lived in Boston, and I was a Designer/Art Consultant (mostly Art Consultant in those days). I had a client, who wanted some large pieces of sculpture, and it had to be Classical....I stumbled across the most wonderful gallery of reproductions I have ever seen and have yet to see...
Here's the quote from the catalog:
"The quality of a reproduction is of the greatest importance. In an original work of merit there is a subtleness of treatment- a certain feeling which, if captured in reproduction, places the finished piece within the realm of art itself.

Florentine master craftsman Pietro Caproni practiced the art of creating quality reproductions. During the last two decades of the 19th century, he traveled through Europe making molds directly from masterpieces in museums such as the Louvre, the National Museum in Athens, the Vatican, the Uffizi Gallery, and the British Museum.
Considered the greatest craftsman of his time, Caproni was one of the last to be allowed the freedom of casting directly from museaum pieces.

In 1900 Pietro Caproni constructed the Caproni Gallery building, at 1920 Washington Street in Boston, to cast and house his reproductions. He made them available to museums, schools, and private connoisseurs throuigh an illustrated catalogue which listed over 2500 casts, including such extraordinary pieces as the full-size Winged Victory of Samothrace and Michelangelo's head of David. The Caproni Gallery became the leading art gallery of it's kind in the world.

To the Present: Some of Caproni's original molds survived to the present day, and many of his catalogues can still be found in the great libraries of this country. His methods, too, have survived, as the Caproni tradition of a fine sense of artistry was carefully passed down to the hands of his successor."

You need to double click on this image of Leno Giust in his gallery...it will enlarge, and you can ooh and ahh at what is there...

I literally stumbled across the Giust Gallery. Leno Giust was the successor, and when I met him, he was an old man...well into his late seventies, and I fell in love with him.
The Gallery had shrunk...Washington Street was a rough neighborhood by then, and his gallery was in the back of the original gallery, and could only be reached by passing through a locked, wrought-iron gate, and several other locked doors...He was a secret.
His catalogue can be sent to you, but you can go on line to http://www.giustgallery.com/ and see all the wonderful things that have survived. But, I must tell you, when I saw the Michelangelo piece (there are a few others), I couldn't keep my hands off it...I ran my fingers over that face, and knew that, even though my husband was a starving graduate student (in his 7th year of grad school, getting a $5,000 a year stipend), I had to have this piece. Leno was a sweetie, and even though today it is only $300, I bought it for much, much less from him.
As soon as I get a baby grand piano (which probably will be never, as we down-sized our home, and neither of us play piano), I am going to get this bust of Beethoven.


When we bought our Texas house, there was a niche in the hallway, and I have painted it Midnight Blue. I love to light the candles, and close off the hallway, and see it the way HE would have seen it...touching it reverently....I am a candle fanatic, and I have discovered that in the Hispanic section of the grocery store, I can get these wonderful, tall votives for $1.50..they used to be $1.05, but they've gone up...I have so many of them, many on the mantle, that if I light them all, I have to open a window, as it sucks the oxygen out of the room! I found these wonderful sconces in Wisconsin, and bought four, different styles...They hang in my hallway, and I love the reflective backgrounds and the shapes.





Often, I take a chair into the hallway, and sit at the far end...I close off the doors, and put on Beethoven, and just meditate on how beautiful it is...It's like being in my own church....











Friday, September 11, 2009

A New Dawn, A New Day

I hope I didn't bum too many people out with my tribute to my friend, Ginna, but she was a dear friend, whom I will miss for the rest of my days. That said, she was also the queen of "The Show Must Go On", and so it will.

I painted this bowl (I call it my version of "the Rose Bowl) and am donating it to an auction for the local animal shelter.



It's raining!!!! This is wonderful!!!! We have had a terrible drought!!...I have to believe this is yet another of my dear Ginna's signs. (okay, so I'm nuts).






Thursday, September 10, 2009

For My Ginna

Tomorrow is Sept. 11...a terrible day in history for our Country...so many mourning their losses.
I lost a friend on Sept. 11, but it was four years ago that day, that my dear friend, Ginna, lost her battle with cancer.

I first met Ginna when I lived in Boston so many years ago. I was an Art Consultant and Interior Designer, and she was my client...she had an insurance company, and bought a great deal of art from me. Then, I helped her with her house...We bonded immediately....

This woman had a heart of gold, and a wicked, wicked sense of humor...we could laugh at the most inappropriate stuff..
I moved to North Carolina, and I was so lonesome there...one day, the phone rang, and it was Ginna: "Jessica, go to the airport, pick up your ticket, and get on a plane for Boston"....She had a ticket waiting for me...picked me up in a limo, and we went to the Rolling Stone's "Steel Wheels" concert...front row...I could have spit on Mick Jagger (but, why would I?)...Next day, I went back to my Cinderella world.

I moved to Wisconsin, and we didn't see each other for years...we talked on the phone constantly...laughed alot, and sometimes, cried together.

Then, I got the call: "Jessica, it's not good...it's cancer"...She said, and I could hear her take a drag on her cigarette, and knew she was drinking her tenth Diet Pepsi of the day...."Please come see me while I still know who you are."

I went...She picked me up at the airport, sporting a beautiful, auburn wig..."I went to the transvestite wig store," she said in her wonderful, South Boston accent..."They have the best ones"

I spent a few weeks with her, and we talked, laughed, cried...held our breath, waiting for calls from the doctors...I had to go home...
Three months later, I went back...she called, and asked me to come and spend some of her last days with her...This time, I took a cab to the hospital, and was shocked when I saw her...Her hair had grown back white, but she was still beautiful...I told her she looked like Vanessa Redgrave...
She wanted out of the hospital in the worst way.."Nurse Rachet won't let me have my cigarettes or my Diet Pepsi", she complained....Her family was angry that she was still smoking, but being a smoker myself (I quit after she died), I understood what an addiction it was.
I and her siblings went to her house, and we emptied the living room, got a hospital bed, and tried to make it as comfortable as possible for her..She was devestated..she wanted her beautiful living room back..but, at least, her wonderful, funny dogs, (who all lived in kennels in the kitchen), were able to come and tell her "welcome home". I teased her about her tan...Ginna worked hard on her tan...it was a matter of fact thing...always tan, always beautiful; perfect hair, nails, makeup...right up to the end.




"Send me a sign," I asked her, when I finally had to go home..."I will," she said, and I kissed her goodbye on that tan cheek...
I left via the kitchen, and Stanley was in his little doggie/doll bed...he seemed to know....
Ginna passed on September 11th, four years ago - I think of her every day.
One day, not long after, I was taking a walk along a wooded path in Wisconsin...It was a crisp, lovely, Autumn day, and as I approached a bridge, a shower of golden leaves cascaded down on me...it was a Ginko tree, and they shed their leaves all at once..."Nice sign, Ginna", I whispered...