Like Living in the Treetops

From my balcony, two floors up, I can see the tops of the spring flowery trees, all white and cloud-like.  Some have bright green leaves and others are reddish bronze.  I want to reach out and snap a few of these candy tufts to place in a vase at my desk as I write.  Why?  Because they are so abundant and joyeous, and oh so temporary.  I can’t reach out and grab them, for they are out of reach, and these trees are much further away than my eye believes.  

The checkered fritillaria are blooming, and the snow drops are tiny, smaller than previous years where the blooms were heavy like hanging jewels.  A scattering of muscarii, peeps of stray tulips. I rescued a rununculus from Shop Rite–wouldn’t you?  Potting it up in recyled soil, I uncovered two intact dahlia bulbs from last summer.  All in all, the garden is waking up, stretching.  And this morning, a thoughtful neighbor anonymously left a tulip on everyone’s car.  Mine is a pale pink, happily resting in a milk bottle filling up with the afternoon rain. 

Woman in Gold, Adele Bloch-Bauer

Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer, Gustave Klimt, 1907 (Galerie Neue New York)

 

I have had the most remarkable experience of seeing a museum exhibition of an artist’s work, and a few months later, seeing a film on the very paintings I saw. Last night I saw The Woman in Gold, a film starring Helen Mirren, which was the reason I saw it at all, which turned out to be about the real-life story of how Maria Altman, a woman who fled from Nazi Vienna to California was able to recover several Gustave Klimt paintings belonging to her family and stolen by the Nazi regime, then conveniently acquired by a Dutch Gallery. One of the paintings is the gorgeous gold-leafed portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer, and one of two portraits he did of her; Adele is maria’s aunt.  The movie is informative, a bit too quickly and easily paced, with an unnecessary Hollywood made-up escape sequence, but it is sumptuous in its depiction of the elegance of Vienna on the verge of take-over.

My sister-in-law took me to the Neue Galerie in New York this past December.  We started with a delicious lunch at Cafe Sabarsky, named after the co-owner of the gallery, then made our way to see the Austrian Masterworks exhibition upstairs.  There were the Klimt portraits, far more breath-taking in life than the many reproductions one sees of “The Kiss” and so on, as well as a stunning woman who surprisingly wandered the gallery dressed like Adele Bloch-Bauer in a pale gold evening dress.  Was she a visitor dressed in homage for the occasion, or was she a gallery employee?

The other owner of the gallery is Ronald Lauder, son of Estee, who made an appearance in the fim, offering to help win back Maria Altman’s inheritance (“I love your mother’s lipstick says Maria in the film, pointing out the shade she is wearing. It is a charming moment, and Mirren acts it well, flirtatious and calculating, even as her character Maria says no to Lauder’s offer of an expensive lawyer.)

There are three documentaries on Adele and Maria’s fight, as well as a book she wrote.

On an NPR Morning Edition report of the painting’s muse, Susan Stamberg quotes Janice Staggs, curator at the Neue, who says of Adele:”She suffered poor health all her life…

“And she experienced great tragedies as well — two miscarriages and a son who died just a few days after he was born. She was 22 when Klimt began this portrait, and those losses show in her eyes.

“She can perceive for herself what the rest of her life will hold. The opportunities she had dreamed of as a young girl were going to be denied,” says Staggs.

The painting of nine-year-old below by Klimt is of Mada Primavesi , not Adele Bloch-Bauer, but it shows what the hope of facing a world squarely and expecting nothing less might look like.

 

Gustave Klimt, Mada Primavesi, 1912-13

Klimt, Portait of Adele Bloch-Bauer II, 1912

Unpacked, Mostly, with Some Photographs

Indira Ganesan, Light in the clouds

Indira Ganesa, Light in the Clouds2016

There is an essay by Natalia Ginzberg in which she writes about disliking summer: the heat, the crowds.  I felt a kinship immediately.  Summer for me is the cool shade, sipping cold drinks, and reading.  It is seeing the sea in the mist, the sharp clarity of mountain air.  And it is vacation to other places, something which is rare for me in most of summers.  I am two weeks back from a  family trip to London and Paris.  I traveled on Wow Air, packed a new Tom Bihn bag, realized I liked the journey to much more than the journey back, despite very good seatmates.  On the way to, I had the window, and much to anticipate.

Indira Ganesan, O Wow, 2016

Indira Ganesan, Wow View, 2016

 

In London, we saw the Chelsea Physic Garden, full of herbal lore and a nice tea.

Chelsea Physic Garden

Indira Ganesan, Chelsea Physic Garden, 2016

C.P. G: fruit

Indira Ganesan, C. P. G: fruit, 2016

C.P.G.: rose and lily

Indira Ganesan, C. P.G.: rose and lily, 2016

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Indira Ganesan, C.P.G: roses in trees, 2016

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Indira Ganesan, C.P.G: Bench with trellis, 2016

The reason for the trip started last October when my brother, sister-in-law, and niece logged in for theater tickets.

And after the play, there was more: to Stonehenge on a bus tour with an archeologist; Paris, where the croissants were drenched in butter,  and the gardens in bloom; and back to England to see my cousin & family. Discovering a mall underneath the Louvre  In between, I snuck a trip out to the country to see an old friend; met more old friends,and later floated floor by floor one afternoon in Waterstones.

 

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Indira Ganesan, Stonehenge, 2016

Indira Ganesan,Stonehenge II, 2016

Indira Ganesan,Stonehenge II, 2016

Waterstones mailed me a package covered in brown paper, filled with books.  It was already waiting for me when I got back. I might have used the same method to bring presents for friends, I realized too late. Reason enough to go back.

 

Snow, Snowflake, Snow

Of course it came,

in thick wet flakes,

this ballet, this March.


Indira Ganesan, Dreams of Tibet, 2016

Indira Ganesan,Tulips in snow, 2016  Indira Ganesan, More Tulips in Snow, 2016
Indira Ganesan, Under the Arch, 2016 Indira Ganesan, Snow Bell on Left, 2016