The Ways of Displays at Christmas

This is the time of year when curmudgeons like me moan about how things aren't like they use to be - how Christmas was less commercial and things were simpler when we were young.   I found myself thinking that in November while regarding the Christmas lights on Regent Street.  As well as celebrating Christmastide - sort of - they also rang bells for a soon to be released animated movie based on my beloved Mr Peabody, but let's not go there.  A walk past the windows at Selfridge's would lead one to think that Christmas was about high-end perfumes and designer dish towels.  And Harrod's?  Well what can be said about that parody of a once great emporium that is now the Disneyland of department stores.  Though we didn't get a chance to stroll down Piccadilly I understand from a video (click here) that Fortnum and Mason eschewed last year's highly commercial salute to a theatrical chain's Panto mixed in with their fine food stuffs to once again display a little nostalgic animation in their windows.  Mind you their fine products are still very much on display but its things like Christmas pud, crackers and the like.

By the time we reached London we were pretty much pictured out; however here's a shot of
Regent Street during the day light hours.  I must admit I was a bit bemused by this year's
lights?  Mr Peabody and Sherman - well now there's a Christmas theme I never thought of.

Now Madrid is, or at least was, a different story.  The light displays there are created by well-known designers and reflect all sorts of styles and creativity.  Unfortunately we were only there for a few hours to change trains during daylight hours but did get a chance to get downtown.  And I hate to say it but LNB and myself both gave into the crass commercialism that appeared to represent Christmas at  El Cortes Inglés in Madrid.  After a wonderful lunch at De Maria we strolled over to the main store at Puerta del Sol and stopped off at their Christmas shop - hoping to, despite a vow of abstinence, find a Christmas ornament that cried "Spain".  Well we found lots that smirked "China" but nothing that you couldn't find most other places.

Sadly there was nothing at El Cortes Inglés that couldn't be found at any department story anywhere in the world. We had been hoping to find something that would remind us of our times in Spain but .......

By the time we hit the third floor of their six story Christmas store we were right smack in the middle of commercial Christmas with a capital C.  So if you can't fight 'em!

Laurent seems to have this, dare I say "unhealthy", obsession with mice.  And keep in mind this is
the man who will not take me to Disney World. But he'll cavort with El Ratón Mickey in Madrid.

Even Sidd bought into the commercialism - these straight gnomes!  And Cinderella was just his sort of girl - plastic!

Apparently Sulley (James P. Sullivan) got over his fear of the toxic touch of humans
or it may have just been Sidd's calming presence.

Sorry but Spidey was getting just a little too up-close and personal! 

And of course being selective in applying my curmudginliness I am truly delighted by the wonderful display that graces Henri Bendel's window in their New York flagship store.  Okay Al Hirschfeld may not have much to do with Christmas but his marvelous creations are cause for some sort of seasonal celebration.  Someone over at a Broadway musical group I belong to (You belong to a Broadway Musical group, says incredulous reader?  Quelle surprise!) discovered that the brilliant caricaturist is lining Richard Rogers and Oscar Hammerstein at his worktable. 

A click on the poster heralding the Hirschfeld Spectacular will take you to  detailed photographs of the window and the iconic drawings that have been brought to, if not life, life size for the holidays.  And the store is decorated with Hirschfeld's - the originals as well as 3D reproductions.  And yes "Nina" is hidden in full view!

Okay maybe this old curmudgeon isn't entirely against commercialism - I noticed a bit of store promotion in quite a few photos of the old Eaton's windows that I loved so much.  And I guess that's the whole point of window displays - to get you in and to get you to buy.  But I do wish London would rethink those lights!  Mr Peabody and Sherman??? And not even the real thing just some cheap Dreamworks imitation!  What sort of Christmas celebration is that?

December  29 - 2003: The last known speaker of Akkala Sami dies, rendering the language extinct.

Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat Where Have You Been?

Well actually I've been to London if not to visit the Queen then to do quite a lot of things in four short days.

This delightful lithograph in the lobby of the National Theatre proves that
many cats can indeed look at a Queen!  Sadly I didn't make a note of the artist's
name or the title and the National website gives no clues.

I first visited London when I was 19 in 1969. Up until then the farthest I had been away from home was New York one Christmas with my mother (when we had the embarrassing scene with the unsuccessful attempted to "poison" me with "uncooked" hamburger at Schrafft's Restaurant) and Nassau with my friend Eugene (who saved me from drowning two hours after we arrived and has suffered with a bad back ever after). You would think that those two episodes alone might have killed any urge I had to travel but no, that May I set off on the first of many voyages to London; and I was to cross the Atlantic once again three months later en route to Austria.  In those heady years of high salaries, working for the airlines and living at home if I had been eligible for air points (if such a thing had existed) I would have had enough to do around the world within a year or two. The trips were frequent and mainly to Europe and many of the trips meant time spent in London - sometimes only for a day or two.

The reason for that first trip was opera - The Glyndebourne Festival and the Royal Opera at Covent Garden. Then there was the theatre - Love for Love with Geraldine McEwan at the National Theatre (still housed in the Old Vic back then), Sarah Miles and Eileen Atikens in Vivat Vivat Regina and a trip down to Chichester to see the incomparable Alistair Sim and a very young Patricia Routledge in Pinero's The Magistrate. 

Well 43 years later I arrived at Heathrow a week ago Thursday past for a few days and the principal motivation once again was opera - plus ca change!!

The Royal Opera House was staging a rare revival of Meyerbeer's Robert la diable  - the last time the infamous ghostly ballet of debauched nuns danced on that stage was 1890.   And in one of those strange little quirks of serendipity the National Theatre (in their South Bank home) was presenting The Magistrate with John Lithgow as the beset-upon Mr Posket.  Did I mention "plus ca change"????

Not only the shops in Mayfair were dressed up for the season;
though this little girl was not at all impressed with the Candy Cane.

And if there's a Candy Cane man, you just know there had to be
a Candy Kiss on roller skates nearby - after all it is London.

I really meant to go and check that the crows were still at the Tower after
encountering this rather exotic outfit at the M and S check-out. However the Russian gentleman
with the fat wallet with her seemed rather pleased with his lady so....  chaqu'un as they say.

There were, of course, quite a few added attractions - my dear Fotis was coming in from Athens for the opera and we had seats together (quite by accident) in the front row of the amphitheatre; Chantal, a colleague from Rome was on temporary duty at the High Commission and I had an invitation to stay with her and a night out at the National; and David and the Diplomate had issued an invitation to Sunday lunch.  It was going to be a full four days.

Although the landscapes don't quite marry up it is possible that the artist intended the portraits of Ashraf 'Ali Khan and his mistress Muttubby to be a facing each other in a book. Dip Chad is one of the few artists of the period of whom much is known and his style is distinctive for its experimentation and subtle use of colour.  For some reason the portrait of Muttubby reminded me of Magritte - funny the associations our minds make.

From the catalogue for MUGHAL INDIA, British Library

But of course being London there were all the serendipitous events that pop-up in what is still after all these visits one of the most exciting cities on the surface of this ever shrinking globe.  At 1430 on Thursday afternoon Fotis phoned to say that he had an extra ticket for the (sold-out) Hollywood Costume exhibition at the V and A and to get my lily-white over there by 1530 if I wanted to see it.  And see it I did - and met his friend Irini Kyriakidou who, as well as being a very beautiful and talented soprano in her own right, just happens to be married to Bryan Hymel who was singing the eponymous Robert.  Which then led to an opportunity to go backstage after the performance followed by a late night dinner in Covent Garden with Irini, Bryan, Fotis and their friend Sascha.  An e-mail exchange with David about Sunday's lunch led to an unplanned trip to the British Library to see a splendid exhibition of books and illustrations from the Moghul Period in India.  And Sunday lunch as well as bringing the delights of a perfectly cooked joint of lamb placed me in the company of David, Diplomate and Edward, a fascinating gentleman with an equally fascinating history.

And my faithful travelling companion Sidd accompanied me to Pink to look at shirts but frankly was more interested in getting his photo taken with Santa.  I mean where else but London would you find a Pink Santa?

Some how I managed to squeeze a trip to Seldfridge's and a quick pop by Fortnum and Mason to see their very disappointing windows this year - no moving figures and more advertisement than anything - with a stop behind them at Pink on Jermyn Street.  To make up for the disappointment of not spending £175.00 on that great shirt I headed back to the V and A again.  A walk-around their remarkable Medieval Galleries, a look-in at the Raphael's and a saunter through the English Renaissance displays was almost as good as retail therapy.

You could almost miss this beautiful little 13th century ivory fragment from Northern England in the midst of all the glories of the Medieval galleries at the V and A.  Carved from a walrus tusk it depicts Joseph of Aramathea supporting the body of Christ as it is removed from the cross.  Strange how a small piece of ivory can be turned into something so moving.

A full but strangely not exhausting few days that proved that even after the many visits I am very much not "tired of life".

"Why, Sir, you find no man, at all intellectual, who is willing to leave London. No, Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford."
— Samuel Johnson to Boswell, September 20, 1777.

22 December -1890: Cornwallis Valley Railway begins operation between Kentville and Kingsport, Nova Scotia.

Christmas Pudding, Luv?

As often happens when I either read, exchange e-mails with, or actually talk to my friend David I end up buying a book. David and I met three years ago through our blogs and I had the good luck to meet him and his Diplomate face to face for a concert and dinner when I was in London two years ago.  Brief though my recent trip to London was it still gave me the opportunity to meet up with David and the Diplomate on the Friday evening.

A lithograph from the London Illustrated News showing the new quarters of the Garrick Club in 1864.  The club had become so popular that its original building proved inadequate and a new building was constructed on King St - which was soon to become Garrick St in honour of both the club and the great actor it was named after.

The afternoon began with drinks at the Garrick Club with Diplomate and several of his friends who made this wide-eyed colonial bumpkin feel very comfortable amongst the theatrical splendor of one of the most prestigious private men's clubs in England.  I would have liked to post a few pictures from the Internet of the interior with its incredible collection of theatrical art work but as a privileged guest I would be breaching etiquette by doing so; so you might want to click on the link above to see some of the splendors I saw at 15 Garrick Street.  Conversation - and several rather delicious Manhattan Cocktails topped up with champagne - flowed easily with one of England's finest young countertenors and a member of the clergy from St Paul's Cathedral.  Topics ranged from upcoming performances in Chicago to arts gossip to the Occupy London situation at the Cathedral to a charity project in India.   We then headed over to Chinatown to meet David and a lady friend for dinner at the New World - one of the top rated restaurants in the area.

 The lady friend is an editor with a small publishing house - yes they still exist - and her house had just had a title that had astonished everyone by making the best seller list over the Christmas holidays.  More astonishingly it wasn't a new novel but a reissue of a book originally published in 1932.   Christmas Pudding was the second of Nancy Mitford's nine novels. Perhaps most astonishingly in recent years Mitford has been more thought of as one of those sad, bad, mad Mitford girls than the fine novelist she was and here she was once again a best selling author.  The reissue of Christmas Pudding climbed to #4 on the British best seller list and may well have started a mini-Renaissance for, as I've discovered, an unjustly neglected writer.  The general consensus at table was that it was a good read so I immediately added it to my mental list of books to read in 2012.

Those sad, bad, mad Mitford girls:  Jessica, Nancy, Diana, Unity and Pamela Mitford in 1935.  Ben MacIntyre a journalist with The Times characterized them as:  "Diana the Fascist, Jessica the Communist, Unity the Hitler-lover; Nancy the Novelist; Deborah the Duchess and Pamela the unobtrusive poultry connoisseur".

And is there any better place to read a book than at 32,000 feet as you head across the Atlantic - particularly if none of the 72 video options are either interesting or current.  And surely if it was on the best seller list it would be available at the W. H. Smith bookstore at Heathrow.  I mean you can get Stilton cheese, Hermes scarves, Pink's shirts (I bought two) , Clinque, 12 year old Scotch (Glenmorangie Nectar d'Or) and Molton Mowbray Pork Pies at the shops in the concourse  - so a best seller from this past Christmas should be there right?  Wrong!  When asked if she had Mitford's Christmas Pudding, the pleasant lady at the till - in a voice that would have done Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins proud - suggested I look in cookbooks or if I wanted the real thing that it was a bit past the season but I might try Harrod's.  Sadly I had to make do with the latest bit of Stephan Fryery as reading material and graciously passed on the idea of a Christmas pud from the Disneyland of Department Stores.

But I knew it would be available here - if not from Amazon then one of the small bookstores that still manage to do business in Ottawa.  Well I discovered that from the former I could order it and it would appear in my mail box sometime in the next three months and from the later possibly - if it could be ordered - it would be in my hands a month or two later.   Even a search of the Ottawa Public Library came up empty!  Now there is nothing quite like the inability to get something to whet the appetite for said unattainable item. 

Finally there it was, good old dependable Penguin had published all nine of Mitford's novels in one of their marvelous "complete works of" series.  I was going to get to my fill of Mitford - 997 pages, excluding "new introduction by...."  - of a writer that I had neglected in the past.  So the reading project for this winter:  The Complete Novels of Nancy Mitford.  All nine! All 997 pages!  Ah well one shouldn't do anything by halves should one?  Dear god I'm starting to talk like a Mitford Bright Young Thing!!!!!

 04 February - 960:  The coronation of Zhao Kuangyin as Emperor Taizu of Song, initiating the Song Dynasty that would last more than three centuries.

Beasts of Battle

In the famous Charge of the Light Brigade it is estimated that the British lost over 335 horses and that during the 1914-18 War on the Belgian Front alone 800,000 horses were killed. And a conservative figure lists 40,000 war dogs used by the Allied Forces died in that same conflict which ended in a stalemate and an Armistice. The totals for other campaigns are as staggering for animals that served as mounts, war machines, carriers and vehicles of communications.

And given that the British are known for their animal rights activism I am frankly surprised that it has taken so long for a monument to be erected remembering the animals that died in various armed campaigns throughout the ages. In a city overwhelmed with monuments in prominent locations to long forgotten heroes (?) of often long forgotten wars it is a shame that this lovely tribute to those who did not have “ a choice” is lost in the middle of one of the busiest thoroughfares in the city. I happened upon it as I was leaving Hyde Park near Speakers' Corner to cross Park Lane and return to the hotel.


The monument was created by sculptor David Backhouse and dedicated in November 2004 by the Princess Royal in the presence of a goodly number of people who had contributed to its creation including Dame Vera Lynn. When I passed it on Friday there were still wreaths strewn around the base from last November 11th commemorations from various animal societies and individuals as well as a few more recent tributes.

The four bronze figures parade through a crevice in a stone wall lead by a cavalry horse. the rear of the procession being brought up by, it seems to me, a sad and rather reluctant mule carrying munitions. I do find it strange that in this procession the dog cannot be viewed through the crevice in line with the other animals – though that may just be my prejudice in favour of canines speaking.

Though the dog in question does appear to be looking back and urging on the ghost image of his fellows incised into the back wall – the elephants, camels, goats, horses and birds used in the various battles that Britain has fought through the centuries and throughout the world. In a rather strange oversight though a flight of carrier pigeons are included the caged wrens that were used to test for the presence of poisoned air during the Great War are missing.

But the mere fact that this tribute exists is a wonder and the fact that while I was photographing it a good number of people stopped to look at it. There was one trio of young trendy types who ended up spending as much time as I did looking at it and an overheard comment suggested it had made them stop and reflect in a way that other monuments to forgotten battles had not.

Perhaps it is my own fondness for animals but I found it a touching and emotionally moving tribute to creatures that went into battle because “They had no choice.”

23 febbraio - San Policarpo

Parlo del Piu e del Meno

Just some odds and ends - separated by a few of those leftover pictures from last year.

The Temple of Aecespius at the Villa Borghese in August.

• Next week I head off to London for a few days - 1 cent euro each way on Ryanair plus Euro 48.98 in taxes and services fees for a grand total of Euro 50.00 . I've heard some bad things about them but at that price as long as its got wings and a good safety record I'll try it. Oh did I mention I'm deathly afraid of flying - yes 33 years in the airline business and I'm terrified every minute I'm on a plane.

From our balcony - terraces and the Pines of Rome.

• Why London? To visit my friend Deb and her SO James for a few days and take Deb to lunch at the Fountain Room at Fortnum and Mason's and the Panto at the Old Vic. Its become a tradition - if you can call twice a tradition. Last time it was tea at the Savoy and Sir Ian McKellan playing Aladdin's mother, this year it's Stephen Fry's version of the Cinderella story and some very camp carryings-on. I'll blog about that later.

Towards the Foro from the restored Mercato di Trainao.

• The following week I'm planning to join Laurent in Athens. He's going for work, I'm going to wander around the Plaka, drink ouzo and check out some of Matt Barrett's helpful suggestions on restaurants etc. Matt has never been wrong where Athens is concerned.

A galleria in the Piazza Vittorio Emmanuele.

• Since the truckers' strike last month food prices have gone up here anywhere from 10 to 20% depending on the product. And after the December taxi strikes our beloved Mayor Walter "Give 'em bread and circuses" Veltroni has announced that taxi fares will go up 18% with a new Euro 2 surcharge for taxis from the railway station. Wine, however will remain the bargain it has always been. Some things you just don't screw around with!

Almost finished polishing our balls.

• And Wally V. has also announced that Euro 2 billion and a workforce of approximately 5,000 will be thrown at the city parking problem. By 2010 there should be 41,000 new parking spots. Of course by then there should be 100,000 additional cars.

The table set for Christmas Dinner

• I finally got tickets for Tosca - showed up at the Box Office on Tuesday and nabbed 4 seats for the Sunday matinee. Its the first cast so I'm happy with that - explanation: since performances are given on successive nights here they often have two, sometimes three, casts alternating. Sunday will be the same singers as Opening Night - including Marcelo Alvarez and Renato Bruson - so I'm quite content.

10 gennaio - San Aldo