I don't know why this place holds so much sway over me - a magnet to my heart, buried high up in heavens I've never seen, and an age I've never known. 

St. Etienne, a glimpse of you and my heart starts to burn.  Your grandeur overwhelms me - moves me - all at once the distant, the beautiful, the dangerous meet in you. You are my sublime.  And someday, I will see you.  Sit with you in ageless silence.  And together we will contemplate the heavens and think little of time. 

I'm singing Nat King Cole and picturing Audrey Hepburn.  Mona Lisa and masterpiece controversies of authenticity?!   I think it's time to re-watch my favorite Hepburn movie.  :)   That aside,  this article had me transfixed. 

*** *** ***



September 28, 2012


Mona Lisa mystery deepens as another version is unveiled

By JAMEY KEATEN

Associated Press

The Mona Lisa Foundation claims there have always been two portraits of the iconic painting by Leonardo da Vinci, the ‘Earlier Version,’ made 10 years before the ‘Joconde’ that is displayed in Le Louvre in Paris. GENEVA — The mystery behind the most enigmatic smile in art — Leonardo da Vinci's “Mona Lisa” — just got a little more complicated.

In a coming-out party of sorts in Geneva, rounds of flashbulbs popped Thursday as the nonprofit Mona Lisa Foundation pulled back the curtain to present what it claims is a predecessor of the world's most famous portrait.

But even the experts brought in by the foundation weren't sure about that claim just yet.

The art world is prone to all sorts of rumors and speculation — and, periodically — discoveries that jolt accepted norms. Two years ago, a retired French electrician claimed that he had turned up 271 Picasso works that had been sitting for decades in his garage — and Picasso's heirs claimed theft.

But a new claim about the world's most famous painting, which draws millions of visitors to Paris' Louvre Museum each year, resonates like a thunderclap in the art world. It also prompts a new look at a painting that all by itself still raises a lot of questions for experts — not least the timeless “Is she smiling or not?”

The “Isleworth Mona Lisa” features a dark-haired young woman with her arms crossed against a distant backdrop. The foundation insists it's no copy but an earlier version of the Louvre masterpiece.

At the presentation, Alessandro Vezzosi, director of the Museo Ideale Leonardo da Vinci, said the painting was intriguing but needs further study. He declined to line up behind the foundation's claims that it was truly a “Mona Lisa” predecessor painted by da Vinci.

Ever since the 16th century, several historical sources suggest that da Vinci painted two “Mona Lisa” versions. One was of Mona Lisa Gherardo around 1503 that was commissioned by her husband, Francesco del Giocondo, the foundation said. Another — the one in the Louvre — was completed in 1517 for Giuliano de Medici, da Vinci's patron. That theory fits with da Vinci's tendency at times to paint two versions of some of his works, like the Virgin of the Rocks, the group said.

Foundation members say it's unrealistic to think that the woman sat twice for a portrait, but that the meticulous, mathematical approach suggested that Da Vinci may have projected in his mind what she would have looked like between the first alleged “Mona Lisa” and the “Mona Lisa” in the Louvre.

However, the foundation acknowledged that the “Isleworth Mona Lisa” remains unfinished, and that da Vinci didn't paint all parts of the work. Still, the group pointed to newly discovered evidence in 2005 from Heidelberg, Germany, that suggested da Vinci was working on at least the head of such a painting in 1503.

The painting has been in headlines before, starting in the early 20th century. And it's not unknown to a foreign audience: It was shown in Japan last year before the foundation's research was finished.

Experts say Thursday's unveiling was designed to draw more attention and scrutiny from worldwide art experts about whether it's authentic: A start more than a finish.

The Isleworth painting first came to public light after British art collector Hugh Blaker found it in the home of a nobleman in Somerset, England before World War I, said Robert Meyrick, head of the art school at Wales' Aberystwyth University.

Blaker bought the painting and took it to his private studio in Isleworth outside London. U.S. and British newspapers, meanwhile, speculated even then that it might be a da Vinci. But at that time only art experts — not high-tech science tests like the ones conducted by the foundation — could judge its possible bona fides.

During World War II, Blaker shipped the painting to Boston's Museum of Fine Arts for safekeeping, the foundation said. In 1962, it was bought by U.S. collector Henry Pulitzer. When he died in 1979, his reported mistress — Elisabeth Meyer — inherited it, but it remained in a Swiss bank vault.

After she died, an “international consortium” — which the foundation declined to identify — bought the painting in 2008, according to the group's chronology. The foundation was set up two years later, determined to try to show that it was a real da Vinci.

The Mona Lisa Foundation's members are more from the business world than the art world. Participating in Thursday's show was David Feldman, an Irish-born stamp auctioneer; his brother Stanley, an art historian who was the main author of an extensive book on the “Isleworth Mona Lisa”; and Markus Frey, a lawyer in Zurich who is the foundation's president.
The foundation and its backers paid “several million” to conduct research tests — forensic analysis, carbon-dating and computerized regression analysis — on the work, Feldman said. He wouldn't say how much the painting was bought for in 2008.
Carlo Pedrotti, one of the world's most eminent scholars on da Vinci, hailed the foundation's “extraordinary contribution to scholarship.”
In a letter to the foundation presented Thursday, Pedrotti called the group “precisely the sort of research institute, if not a veritable investigating agency — an FBI for Leonardo studies! — that I had always hoped for.”

Martin Kemp, a da Vinci scholar and Oxford University professor, said he hadn't seen the painting but doubts that it is authentic. He cautioned that the foundation might have its judgment clouded by a possible payoff.
“If this were the original version of the most famous picture in the world, heaven knows what it would cost — a lot of money,” he told APTN in an interview at his home near Oxford. “You'd probably be on your way to 200 million pounds ($325 million) or to stratospheric realms.”

“There are big, big stakes involved, and people become committed to it,” he noted.

Still, who wouldn't want to have their own “Mona Lisa?”

“Having a Leonardo is a very sensational thing to have,” Kemp admitted. “If I had a Leonardo, it would secure my fame forever.”

My good friend, Erik, just posted this photo.   He's in Paris.  This is the one reason why I can't imagine not visiting France.  I've never been the girl to dream of Paris - until I began studying architecture.  If you've been following Hope is an Anchor for more than 2 years, you will remember when I first discovered Abbot Suger and fell in love with the story of Gothic architecture.  You might also remember the index cards I began of the places I want to visit.  A number of them are cathedrals in France.  This photo almost made me cry.  I am so excited to see my friends when they return - I cannot imagine this architectural space not changing them, at least a little bit.  How could you stand inside that piece of history and not become something new, some new part of that story. 

XXVII

[Inscription on the bronze doors made by Suger for the Abbey of St. Denis]

Whoever thou art, if thou seekest to extol the glory of these doors,

Marvel not at the gold and the expense but at the craftsmanship

of the work.

Bright is the noble work; but, being nobly bright, the work

Should brighten the minds, so that they may travel, through the

true lights,

To the True Light where Christ is the true door.

In what manner it be inherent in this world the golden door defines:

The dull mind rises to truth through that which is material

And, in seeing this light, is resurrected from its former submersion.

I found a box on my desk when I got home late Saturday night. I knew what it was and decided to save it for the next day. I have gone online to buy this book (and cyber stalk my favorite UCLA professor) several times. Finally, the week before taking off on vacation, I took the leap. I've read most of this journal, several of the articles (those written by Maniquis) multiple times over. This was in fact the primary source for my senior thesis. Robert Maniquis was the only scholar/ professor I could find applying the imagery of terror and violence to the cultural crisis of the French Revolution. My thesis dealt with the imagery of childbirth and it's power in times of cultural crisis. In France and England, the Romantics, affected by the Revolution, created birth imagery of terror with hinted abortions, horror, and sons murdered by their fathers. In the Apartheid in South Africa, Serote paralleled birth imagery with the war in the skies, heavens, blood, and graves. And in the end, it meant hope. Maybe none of this makes any sense, I'm doing my best to describe a 20 page essay in a few sentences. I bought the book because I know that regardless of grad school or marriage or the state I end up in, I'll be writing something more on this. It was that moment where I finally realized in school "This is why I'm here." Don't get me wrong, I've always known why I was at college, why I was in the Literature program, why I was training. And that was the first moment when the answer to those questions was actually touching the tip of my toes and my fingers tapping the keys made a bigger sound in my heart than in anyone's ears. I went to school because of a book I'm going to write, though I don't know exactly what it will say - but it surrounds the power of birth and birth imagery in literature during times of cultural crisis - such as now. When the Revolutionaries lost hope, they felt aborted by their fathers and they created pictures where they lost their children too. It was tied to terror, childbirth and generations was wrapped up in its very cultural core of disappointment and political suffering. When the South-African's began to fight back for their rights, their poets penned hope into the hearts of the people, hope through birth as a sort of war, as victory.

I didn't mean to pour all that out at you, I only meant to tell you all I'm excited to finally own this book, the only one I've read that touches on a specific passion in my heart. One I don't know how or where it will work itself out, so somehow owning this book feels like holding onto that spot where my toes touch calling.

Les Miserables - 25th Anniversary
August 25, 2011 matinee

I've seen the Musical four times now.  That is nothing compared to the 14 (?) times my parents have attended it, Kim close behind and Kristin just behind that.  Reaching the age that dad would take you to see Les Mis was a big benchmark in our family.  I remember singing along to Castle in the Clouds and Little People before we moved to the new house.  I had to be 3 or 4.  I loved them both.  I thought they were my songs.  I didn't even know what they were from until a few years later when it clicked.  Junior high and for the first time, I wouldn't be left at the neighbors while the family dressed up and headed to the show.  I remember the months leading up to it.  I'd fallen in love with Eponine, her deep rough voice that broke your heart in two, just as my sisters had fallen years before.  We'd lie in the living room and listen to the album through.  I've always been terrified since of becoming Eponine.

We'd read through the book in High School, and I'd see the performance several more times over the years.  But it wasn't until the opening scene yesterday that I realized just how much this story has impacted my family.  I see my dad in many ways in Jean Val Jean, I don't even know how to connect it or describe it, but I loved the man on stage yesterday all the more for it.  I cried as he said his goodbyes, wanted to beg him not to go.  I wondered if my love (near obsession) with the French Revolution, the British Radical Culture it affected, and the work of the Romantics that were sparked out of it is perhaps the fruit from this seed that grew up with me since my toddler years.  Is this why I love it?  Kristin said two days ago "You love Red & Black too, it gets you all worked up." And it's true.  When the song changes to Will you join in our crusade, who will be strong and stand with us. Somewhere beyond the barricades is there a life you long to see?  I tear up, and can't even explain what exactly, but something deep inside of me is wrenched, something that comes alive at the thought of the student-soldier, of ideals and battles, of passion and dreams and blood. Of things being real, and hope rising from hopelessness and barricades. 

And as I wondered all that, I began to laugh too (not out loud), I'd never even considered the political commentary of the film on the justice system and it's not only unconcern, but blatant refusal of change and return to society and hope.  I thought of Kristin.  That has to be part of why she loves this story, this Musical.  Or perhaps this Musical is part of why she is so passionate about justice, about the Eponine being heard, about the Jean Val Jeans being given a chance and the system being fought. 

I thought of how my dad hates to see people judged.  I thought of how he loves Fontine's song, and if he found that woman on the street, dying and wronged, and ashamed, he'd probably have done the exact same thing.  I thought of how my dad has loved and encouraged many girls who probably felt like their life resembled Fontines in that moment, in one sense or another.

Amazing how art can shape us, transform us, define our passions and awaken us to our callings. Amazing how the same Musical can bring about so many different responses, even in one family. 

As I said, this performance was different from previous, or rather, more different.  The revolving stage was gone (which I was kind of partial to, if for nothing else than Turning.), and pretty much they just brought new tricks and gadgets, a huge screen as the backdrop which was pretty cool, a new device for Javert's suicide, new moving stages for balconies/ tunnels/ houses/buildings.  It was all quite cool. 

One Day More was no longer song as the gate rotated, but instead the lovers chimed from opposite balconies, Val Jean and Eponine below... the gate still central but less obstructive.  Empty Chairs at Empty Tables was not in the bar, but instead an empty stage.  The candles were a new touch, and the synchronized movements were overwhelming in all the best ways to me.  I liked this change, even while I missed the old.  (My mom wanted the old back.)  Turning, I thought I'd miss the stage for (and did), but the simple action of the little girl doing a "Ring Around the Rosie" with the woman, in so turning, and also drawing on the true historical beginnings of the children's game....hit me in the gut like a punch.  The emotions of this performance were heightened not only by a greater emphasis on the acting (which my dad told me before the performance- they saw it twice this time around), but also by these very specific and bold changes to the choreography and set.  In some ways, they stripped it down.  In others, they hyped it up by technology.  I enjoyed it, but part of me worries that they made it more like all the other Broadway shows, and perhaps stripped away a bit of the "old" which everyone's been afraid to touch... but perhaps that fear was with good reason.  I've grown up thinking there are musicals, and then there is Les Mis. 

As for the individual performances themselves, this was the best TenerdeausFontine was my favorite.  I wished she'd been in every song, her voice was incredible, her acting was excellent! When she returned to the stage for the final song, I wanted to cheer immediately!  Eponine's voice was excellent, but her acting seeemed lacking.  It could also be that I just didn't enjoy how she chose to represent Eponine.  She only seemed angry, and perhaps desiring, but she didn't grab at all the emotion and empathy that I was ready to give to my favorite character.  Her face never showed the disappointment, frustration, heart-breaking I've always felt in her songs. And Cosette.  Let's be honest, she sort of gets the bum vocal part in the Musical.  No one says "Oh, Cossette's part is my favorite!" No, she's near operatic.  And while she did manage to salvage it, she sounded so pitchy in A Heart Full of Love that I felt uncomfortable.  She acted well enough, but I was so disappointed by her singing I almost didn't care.  A Heart Full of Love, and One Day More are some of my favorites, and I just couldn't enjoy them this time.  Hear's Marius pulling his part, but Cosette is jumping everywhere and I'm pretty sure she's not on the note she should be, and if she is, she's holding on to it with one hand and dangling, and Eponine is standing outside the gate reminding herself "He was never mine to keep" and echoing "standing here" but she looks more angry than devastated and I just can't connect to the scene the way I want to!

I shouldn't end with a negative... so, remember, I am dramatising it all myself.  The performance was incredible, and by the end Cosette had pulled it together I felt and Eponine sounded so lovely I'd forgiven her.  I'd enjoyed seeing this nee depiction of my favorite Musical, I loved the well-thought-out additions that heightened the themes.  There was a new character this time through, a man who appeared to be like a father to Gavroche, and when Gavroche was shot, you see this man's face, staring right at you center stage and you FEEL the loss amidst a life of numbness and you choke on a cry in your throat.   This cast was overall remarkable, some of my favorite performances will remain from this run I have no doubt.

(I didn't take any photos, except the one above.  You know how irked I am.)

I've never cared for France.

All I knew was they were push-overs politically, stuck up socially, too skinny physically (not to mention too hairy), too nasaly vocally, and they owned ugly dogs.

That may be a bit harsher version, but as I said, I've never cared for France. Until this year. Studying the beautiful architecture France has to boast of, I began to soften up a bit. And today, I think I actually just felt compassion. I didn't quite realize you could feel compassion for an entire country... but I think I've just experienced it. I love literature (you should all know this by now- unless you've never met me, and this is your first time stumbling across my blog). I especially love Les Miserables and A Tale of Two Cities. I also love the work of the French and English Romantics. (Byron and Keats are my two favorites.) For this reason, I've decided to expand my senior thesis to include an interrogation of the literature produced during this period as a response to the French Revolution. As I'm sitting here reading about France and considering the violence of the revolution, and then the occupation of the Nazis as well as their long history.... I suddenly felt compassion and grace for them as a country. Isn't it funny to realize that just as the wounds in a person's life affect their decisions, countenance and personality, so too the wounds in a country's history will affect theirs? France has been through a great deal of violence, and yes, politically I disagree with them, but suddenly I can see so much more. Pieces are beginning to come together, I can see (in a small measure) how their revolutions and tyrannies and 'Terrors' have provoked their art and literature, and therefore the ideas that have shaped them. I can see how their decisions today come from these painful times, and the attempts of their philosophers to make sense of it all, soothe the wounds, and break the bondage.

Suddenly, I care for France. I would like to go, not just for the beautiful structures that stand there, but for the history and emotions and passions that structure France.