L a - b e a u t é - s a u v e r a - l e - m o n d e ~ D o s t o ï e v s k i

L a - b e a u t é - s a u v e r a - l e - m o n d e  ~  D o s t o ï e v s k i



Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Miss Desmond gives a financial statement



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As an example of one of my horrendously pedantic asides, I feel compelled to let you know that the rather flashy necklace Miss Swanson wears in this scene in the film and in the publicity portraits was a costume piece - perhaps that goes without saying - which was also worn (with a small crown-shaped pendant attached) nine years before by Barbara Stanwyck in her impersonation as "Lady Eve Sidwich" in Preston Sturges' sublime "The Lady Eve". But the two bracelets Swanson wears in the pair of publicity shots at the top of the page were hers, and quite the real thing: flexible bangles of platinum-set diamonds and rock crystal that she'd purchased from Cartier in 1932.



Sunday, March 8, 2015

Felix in exile



Felix Yusupov - sole heir to pre-Revolutionary Russia's greatest private fortune, youthful transvestite, homosexual (or at least bisexual), improbable husband to the last Tsar's only niece - is most famous - infamous - as the instigator of the plot against and murder of Rasputin. But what came after?

The notorious and grisly murder was a last desperate act, in the midst of World War I, to try and save the mortally ill Russian monarchy. Too little, too late; the Revolution was only three months away. Felix and his wife, Irina, were able to take refuge in the relatively calm Crimea, where they joined other fortunate aristocrats and members of the Romanov family, including Irina's immediate family and her grandmother, the Dowager Empress.

On the deck of the HMS Marlborough,leaving Russia in 1919.

In April of 1919, as the Civil War threatened, the whole group was evacuated, boarding an English warship sent by the Dowager Empress' nephew, King George V. The Yusupovs would settle in Paris. Through luck and some foresight, Felix and Irina were quite a bit better off than the majority of the Russian émigrés. They had jewels to sell, like so many others, but Felix had also managed to bring two Rembrandts out of Russia. They also had possessions and property in England and France. Felix became known for his great kindness and generosity to his fellow transplanted Russians.

Felix and his daughter, also named Irina, but always called Bébé.
I don't know who the painter is, but the results don't look too promising.

In 1924 Felix and Irina opened a couture house in Paris. Maison Irfé, named after the first two initials of his and his wife's first names, also became known for its line of perfumes, and they went on to open branches in Touquet and London before closing the business in 1931, mostly as a result of the world-wide Depression. The next year, by now in financial difficulties themselves, the couple brought a lawsuit against the film studio MGM, claiming that a character in the film "Rasputin and the Empress" - a heavily fictionalized account of the last days of the Romanovs and the murder of Rasputin - too closely resembled Princess Irina, and that the character's rape by Rasputin - in fact, Irina had never even met him - constituted libel. They won, and in 1934 were awarded a huge settlement.

In London in 1932, during the trial against MGM. (Three images.)
1950.
1952.

In 1927 Felix had written a book about Rasputin and his own involvement in the murder, and then an autobiography, "Lost Splendour" - not entirely trustworthy, but fascinating and well-written - first published in French in 1952 as "Avant l'Exil". Though an unusual pairing, and though Felix apparently had many male attachments through the years, he and Irina had a very happy marriage and a strong bond which lasted until his death in 1967, at the age of eighty.

(Finally, the comb-over has been abandoned.)
In his final home, at 38, Rue Pierre-Guérin in the 16th arrondissement of Paris, surrounded by possessions and family portraits.
In 1966, the year before his death.
Felix on his deathbed. (Two images.)
Irina, at Felix's funeral; she would live only three years more.

As someone who was so obviously troubled by the loss of his youth and beauty - the lingering comb-over and the obvious maquillage say all that needs to be said on that topic - Felix may have been making a subconscious reference to his own aging appearance and not merely his vanished wealth when he agreed to his memoir's English-language title, "Lost Splendour". As someone who sympathizes greatly with his desperate efforts, I think it only kind to end this post with a treasured image of Felix in the glory of his sixteen year old self, as immortalized by Serov.

Portrait by Valentin Serov, 1903.



Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Scarlett's delightful moment of shame



One of the many high points of Gone With the Wind occurs when Rhett Butler, having heard the latest round of rumours about his wife's behavior, drags the longing-to-be-adulterous Scarlett to her beloved Ashley's birthday party, then leaves her at the door, making her face a den of righteous lionesses alone. The drama is wonderfully abetted by the inappropriate/appropriate evening gown Rhett forces his wife to wear: a scandalously red velvet, bejeweled and befeathered. (A gorgeous, though not at all historically correct design by Walter Plunkett.) The beautiful Vivien Leigh never looked more fiercely beautiful, Scarlett never more hypocritically defiant, and it's one of the film's most deliciously tense moments.


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Sunday, March 1, 2015

Four Still-lifes by Theude Grønland


Poppies, Tulips, and Roses in a Vase, 1846. (Detail.)

Theude Grønland (31 August 1817, Altona - 16 April 1876, Berlin), Danish painter, best know for his floral paintings. The son of an organist, he attended the Academy of Fine Arts in Copenhagen from 1837 to 1839. He exhibited a few portraits before deciding to focus his career on flower and fruit painting. After a year traveling abroad, he settled in Paris in 1844, where he went on to win medals at the Salon and at the Paris World Exhibition of 1855. He provided designs for French tapestry makers, and his work was also very popular in Britain. Grønland moved to Berlin in 1869 and lived there until his death seven years later.

Poppies, Tulips, and Roses in a Vase, 1846.

Grønland is yet another Danish artist, previously unknown to me, who I just happened to stumble across on the internet while I was looking for something else. And the examples of his work here exemplify - to terribly "sensitive" me, anyway - the improbable linking of visual exactitude with the lyrical/emotional/spiritual. Specifically, the frisson experienced in the viewing of work whose remarkable verisimilitude could never have been intended to elicit much more of a response than appreciation of the artist's great skill, but yet whose rigorously realized, explicitly representational precision most certainly expresses the poetic.

Grapes on a Vine, 1861.
Flowers with Antique Vase, 1845.
Still Life of a Duck, 1849.