'Twas the night before Christmas - and, thus, this year's holiday card!

It was my turn to produce our holiday card this year, and I just couldn't come up with an idea; I was running out of time and I had nothing. I eventually conjured the thought that I'd like to find something with the saturated colors and rich detail of Early Netherlandish painting. When the amazing Arnolfini double portrait by van Eyck showed up in my search - as it certainly would - and I noted the predominant green and red in the composition, it seemed like a more than reasonable choice. And not too difficult to manage; not much more than face-swapping. It even had a dog in a supporting role!

The Arnolfini Portrait (aka The Arnolfini Wedding, The Arnolfini Marriage, Portrait of Giovanni Arnolfini and his Wife) by Jan van Eyck, 1434.

And yes, with such an iconic painting, all sorts of cheeky - or worse - things have already been done to this image, painted, photographed, and Photoshopped; I'd like to think our version is a little more subtle, more tasteful, a little more respectful of the original, that most. Since, unlike the way we usually concoct these things, I started with an image rather than a concept, when it came time to give it a title, we really had no idea what story our silly mugs were trying to convey. We eventually gave up. And now we're leaving the story for the viewer/recipient to imagine. So, what is the story?

Nicholas would like to wish everyone a happy holiday, a merry Christmas, or whatever lovely thing it is you do to celebrate at this time of year.
(Yes, it pretty much sounds like a bark, but it actually translates to "Joy!")

Józef Mehoffer - the artist and his wife

From another painter that was previously unknown to me. I love his work. And seeing that there are so many particular and interesting portraits of his wife - I expect there are even more - it got me to pondering how many times it is that I've included my own wonderful wife in my own work. Not a lot, really, inexplicably. If I only count full-on images of her, in ten and a half years of marriage, maybe three times...? That is going to change. Yes!

1898.

"Portrait with a Yellow Background", his wife Jadwiga, née Janakowska, 1907.

1894.

1913.

1898.

Circa 1915-20.

Unknown date.

1904.

1898.

1909.

1937.

1908.

Circa 1892.

Circa 1910.

1897.

1913.

1944.

"At the Summer House", 1904.

1892.

The "Florentine Portrait", 1900.

***

Józef Mehoffer (19 March 1869, Ropczyce – 8 July 1946, Wadowice), Polish painter and decorative artist, one of the leading artists of the Young Poland movement and one of the most respected Polish artists of his time. He studied painting at the Academy of Fine Arts in Kraków and later at the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna, as well as in Paris at the Académie Colarossi and the École des Beaux-Arts; in Paris Mehoffer began painting portraits. He later expanded his work to include different techniques and artistic disciplines, such as stained glass, textiles, etchings, book illustrations, and other graphic arts. He produced set designs for the theater, and stylized furniture designs. Mehoffer received international acclaim for his stained glass windows in the Gothic St Nicholas Collegiate Church in Fribourg, Switzerland, realized between 1895 and 1936. He produced other important stained glass designs, mostly for churches and cathedrals in Poland. Besides his versatility in studio art, he is also known for his frescoes, which are often reminiscent of medieval art. He married Jadwiga Janakowska in 1899, with whom he had a son, Zbigniew, the following year. He died at the age of seventy-seven; his wife died ten years later, at the age of eighty-five.

Circa 1910.

A celebration of the season of "Weird" - this year's Christmas/holiday card

As I posted then, October saw the début of "City of Weird", the book that Gigi spent the last year and a half editing, illustrating, and designing the cover for. I was pretty sure the book would do well - we were all quite hopeful - but it's done even more spectacularly than we ever could have imagined. Already in its third printing, its "Weird Tales" cover design inspiration seemed the perfect inspiration for our own holiday card. Since G and I now alternate the creative duties for this yearly duty, and since this was her turn to take on the task, it seemed only natural that she would keep "working the theme". I think it turned out brilliantly! A boyish G, a girlish me, and Nicholas; what else could we need? Happy holidays - of whatever persuasion - to you all! xo

CITY OF WEIRD - launch day!

I'm so excited - only slightly less so than G - that today is the official publication date - the "book birthday" - for her anthology, "City of Weird". As many of you know, in addition to all the other things she does, G is the graphic designer for a great local publisher, Forest Avenue Press. She's been with them from the very beginning and has done all of their - very lauded - covers. A year and a half ago she took on the huge task of not only designing but editing this new collection; this is her baby. She did the fantastic cover - brilliantly evoking those of the classic "Weird Tales" magazines - and the title page, endpapers, and section-heading illustrations. But even more time-consuming - though decidedly a labor of love - was working with the thirty authors on their stories. Usually first in people's minds is that G's a writer - and a really good one - and this was a chance to work with those skills. But, really, editing someone else's work uses a different set of literary "muscles". And from everything I've heard, and through my own experience - G has edited my art-related writing and my one published short story - she is a truly great editor. Smart and sensitive - and tough - she is able to focus equally well on the big picture as she is on the smallest detail. And she will work and work and work on a piece - whatever the project is - until it's finished to her satisfaction; she's the hardest working person I know. Huge congratulations on this day to the amazingly talented artist and editrix Gigi Little. (My amazingly sweet wife.)

For more on her editing process and the background of the collection, here is an interview with G from last Wednesday's Oregonian.

I love the half-tone effect she used!

If you've got a new book out and want a place to launch it, the place you hope will agree to schedule you - especially if you're a resident of Portland - is Powell's City of Books. And if you're really lucky, you get your event posted on the landmark billboard at the front to the store. Very cool. (And very cool to share the space with our friend Shawn Levy, whose latest, "Dolce Vita Confidential", just debuted.) Should be a really fun, really packed event tomorrow night - be assured that octopuses will be employed!

La belle éditrice Eugénie. xo

Our 10th wedding anniversay... today!

It just does not seem at all possible.... Ten years married. And it's all flown by. I'll never get over the fact, never be less than incredibly grateful, that Gigi came into my life, that we found each other. I am not an entirely easy person to live with - maybe you've heard or imagined? - and I'm so blessed that she puts up with me, that she inspires and intrigues and delights me. She has taught me so much, in so many ways. I love my wife.

Because we're in frantic home renovation/house painting mode, and trying to meet the deadline of today, because we're having a big party tonight, we agreed to leave off our usual Photoshopped celebration - birthdays, Christmas, Valentine's Day, wedding anniversary - card this time. No time. So here's the image I cobbled together for our "evite":

My painting "Les Deux", plus some bits from "La Passagère", plus a crude photograph of the way our house looked when we bought it. It looks so much better now.

Happy New Year!

We were late getting our famous - infamous - Christmas/Holiday card started this year, so we went ahead and decided to make it a New Year's card instead. (As it turned out, we weren't as late as we thought, and most recipients got theirs before Christmas anyway. Whatever....) Since we bought a house this year, we decided to go with a "new home" theme. And what better home-y source material than a photograph of the Queen and Duke of Edinburgh lounging about Windsor Castle? Thankfully, there were no Corgis cluttering up the composition, giving us a perfect spot to insert our dear Nicholas.

Why is it that I always look quite convincing as an old woman...

... while G always makes the most peculiar looking fellow...?

Thank you to everyone who "tunes in" to this blog. I so enjoy working at it, spending far too much time scouring up pictures, finding new stories to tell. And I so appreciate your attention and your kind and very smart comments. Here's to a happy and productive and prosperous new year, all of us!

***

Source material: a recent photograph by Thomas Struth. I added a bit more chandelier at the top; never want to scrimp on the chandelier.

A member of the family - Rosalba Faure, a miniature by François Meuret

This image is more than twice the size of the original.

One of our most treasured possessions is this miniature left to us by G's grandmother, Noni. It was painted in France in the 1830s by François Meuret, one of the preeminent miniaturists of the period; he did much work for the royal family, was "painter to the King" (Louis Philippe), and was later made a knight of the Légion d'honneur. If my research is correct - and I do believe it is - this is a portrait of Rosalba Faure née Gallien de Préval. Of a prosperous New Orleans family of French descent, she traveled to France in 1830 and a year later married Adolphe François Faure. They had two sons together and she and her sons later spent time in both countries. Her husband, a soldier, died in Greece in 1854 and she married again the next year. Her second husband, a New Orleans cotton merchant, fought with the Confederates in the Civil War, then moved to France when his service ended. Rosalba, his wife, died in Paris in 1865. This painting was passed down in the Faure family, then by marriage to the Cooke family; G's mother was born a Cooke. If I haven't skipped any generations - and I don't believe I have - Rosalba is G's great-great-great-great-grandmother.

The crack on the left is not usually nearly as noticeable as it is here; the light was hitting it in a way that accentuated it.

I think she's lovely. And maybe I'm deluding myself, but I think she looks rather like G; the dark hair and large brown eyes, the strong brows, the pale coloring and small mouth. The miniature is three inches by four. Watercolor on ivory. The ivory has cracked in two places, sadly, which is a very common circumstance with miniatures on ivory; luckily, the cracking doesn't impinge upon the subject's beautiful portrait. The miniature came to us in an impressive - and heavy - painted brass (?) frame. There is documentation that frame and portrait have been together since the year of Rosalba's death.

When we received it, aside from the not-really-repairable cracking, I was distressed that the slightly domed glass that covered the portrait was very dirty and clouded - on the inside - and was greatly obscuring the image. I carefully removed the miniature from the frame, but found that the glass was attached to the card-backed ivory with old - original, I presume - paper tape. Most of the tape was crumbled off and the glass lifted away from the image in many places. But it look to be stuck to the image in others, and I wasn't fool enough to attempt to separate the two. I then tried to find a conservator to work on the piece but wasn't successful in doing so. So it just remained in its tarnished state with me not knowing what to do about it.

We packed it very carefully when we moved. And then a few days ago, more than a month after that move, I was holding the framed image up to a wall in the dining room, wondering - if we could ever find a way to get it refurbished - where we might want to hang it. While doing so, I thought I saw the glass move. And then, yes, it was obvious that the glass wasn't attached any longer; it apparently came loose on its own. For the first time, we're now able to see just how lovely the image is, to fully appreciate the quality of Meuret's work. I've since cleaned the glass and can now place the miniature back in the frame. With this unexpected "healing" of her portrait, beautiful Rosalba seems to have decided that she needs to have her impressive portrait properly on view once more, she's reminding us that she should be remembered and admired.

I love the detail on her scarf; are the shiny circles woven into the silk, or are they embroidery? Or sequins?