Paintings

New Paintings, Rock Stars In London and “Buried Child”

Posted on by Nick Lewis

Painting progress: I feel a bit like I’ve lost my mojo when it comes to painting. It seems like I’ve been doing it less. I’ve been working on three things: (1) a portrait of my Uncle Bill, where I am having trouble capturing his smile and the twinkle in his eye, (2) a painting of a tennis player that I’ve been meaning to do for a while but now that I am doing it, I’m wondering why and (3) a landscape vaguely based on a painting I saw at a museum in Paris, using gouache paints that Karen Fried gave me a year ago. It’s been fun trying a new medium, but it is taking a while for me to figure out how it works. I’m actually closing in on completing all three of them.

As it turns out, since drafting this, I did finish the portrait of Bill. He and his wife Marie were very close to my parents and in a lot of ways, he was like a second father for us. He was an amazing guy. He could walk into a room or a bar and within 20 minutes would be friends with everyone in the room. A quick Bill story (there are so many): We showed up at my parent’s house for Thanksgiving or some other Mahoney family reunion and it was a big Mahoney turnout. Judie had never met any of them and was understandably nervous. Bill picked up on this instantly and took us around, introducing us as “Judie and her boyfriend Nick”, a cute juxtaposition that relaxed everyone. Here is the painting. I still did not capture the twinkle in his eye or his mischievous grin, but it’s close (and probably as good as I can do).

uncle-bill

Frideric and Jimi: On the last day that Peter and Andrea were in London, we went to the Handel and Hendrix Museum. Frideric Handel lived in this house on Brook Street in Mayfair from 1723 to his death in 1759. This was the period of Handel’s greatest popularity and power. He really was the rock star of the period. His house has been restored and decorated with period paintings and furniture and some lovely musical instruments. They occasionally have concerts there, as Handel certainly did during his lifetime. You can see where his bedroom was and where he entertained notables of the day and rehearsed with singers.

A little over 200 years after his death, Jimi Hendrix rented a third floor flat in the same building (different entrance) shortly after arriving in England to become incredibly famous. A museum celebrating all of this opened a year ago immediately above the Handel one. Hendrix lived there with his girlfriend for a couple of years, composing, playing and partying. He actually became interested in Handel and bought some albums of his music. All sorts of famous musicians visited him there to jam, hang out and sometimes crash in a spare room. They have recreated his bedroom, based on photos from the time. Hendrix was interested in design and spent a fair amount of time shopping for rugs and other things to decorate the flat. His girlfriend, who left him in about 1969, possibly upset by his drug use, has lived the last 40 something years in Australia, but has come back and donated a few items. There are videos, music, what purports to be Jimi’s record collection, some guitars, etc.

It is a wonderful coincidence that these two superstar musicians lived in the same place. Little things like this are what make London so much fun.

“Buried Child”: We went with Peter and Andrea to see “Buried Child”, a play by Sam Shepard, which won the Pulitzer Prize for Drama in 1979, catapulting his career into the stratosphere. The play is largely centered around the character Dodge, played by (the) Ed Harris, in what I understand is his first London appearance. When you enter the theater, Dodge is already on the couch in a run-down house, coughing and having sips of whiskey. He stays on that couch for entire play, except for times when he ends up on the floor. He is sitting in Middle America waiting to die, his sons are disappointments, his farm is not productive (and hasn’t been for years), he has dark secrets that haunt him and his wife no longer loves him (and hasn’t for years). It’s quite a part and Ed Harris is quite brilliant in the role. His real-life wife, Amy Madigan, plays his wife in the play. She is the strongest figure in a family of men who have been broken one way or another. In the first act, you think at least one person in this family (her) isn’t crazy. In the last act, you find out you are wrong. Upsetting this disturbing apple cart is the surprise visit of Dodge’s grandson Vince, who comes with his girl friend Shelly and then leaves her there when he ostensibly goes to buy whiskey for Dodge but does not return. Shelly, ferociously portrayed by Charlotte Hope, proceeds to expose the dark secrets that have tormented Doge and his family for many years. You eventually discover that Dodges wife had a child with Tilden, Dodge’s now demented son, and that Dodge eventually killed the baby and buried it (thus the title), driving Tilden over the edge.By the end of the play, Dodge has died (but is still next to the couch), Vince is back and is going to stay (but Shelly has enough sense to leave) and Tilden has dug up the baby. This is a powerful and deeply disturbing play that is very well written and sublimely acted and produced. It was not exactly fun to watch, but I won’t forget it. Although it is set in the malaise of the Ford-Carter years on the 1970s, I think the sort of desperation and sense of failure and loss that permeates the play should have resonance in these days of Trump and Brexit. This was once a functioning family with a working business and dreams. Now that is all gone. They may not be a Trump/Brexit voters, but they fits the caricature.

Closing words: Last Sunday, I did the reading at New Unity. It was poem called “”If You Could”by Danny Bryck. I thought it was timely and powerful. Follow this link: if-you-could

Marching on May and Other Thoughts

Posted on by Nick Lewis

Another March: It seems like the Trump administration will feature an endless series of protests. His recent ban on Muslim immigration has led to protest rallies and marches around the globe. You have to wonder if these protests really accomplish anything. I certainly have absolutely no hope that they will sway Trump. And they are unlikely to move Theresa May much either (more on her below). But there is a chance that Members of Parliament and Senators and Congressmen will begin to have second thoughts. And it is also possible, if this level of activism can be maintained for two years, that we might be able to see some local electoral success, as Americans tire of Trump and the politicians who are too spineless to stand up to him.

The protest of Monday was at No. 10 Downing Street. (Well, actually near it. Downing Street is always blocked off and guarded. So the rally was at the Whitehall end of that block-long street.) It was mainly in response to Trump’s horrifying, unconstitutional and foolish executive order banning certain Muslim immigration, which has Bannon’s fingerprints all over it. But it was as much an anti-Theresa May march as an anti-Trump one. She had a fawning visit with Trump last Friday, the very day of the executive order. It is clear that she had some knowledge of the order in advance and said nothing. When it came out, she refused to denounce it or even take a position. It was only as the ban and May were roundly criticized, that she issued a weak statement. The turning point was probably when Mo Farah, the four-time gold medal winning distance runner (who was recently knighted), wrote that, because he was born in Somalia, he would not be able to train in America, which is where his family currently lives. Perhaps it was the idea of Donald mistreating Sir Mo that moved May to act. May seems to feel that she has to support Trump. The prospect of a trade deal with the US as some sort of window dressing to counter the clear disaster that losing access to the EU market poses, has May panting at Donald’s heels like a forlorn puppy. Ans since she has completely given in to the anti-immigration position of the far right, she may feel that she has to support all anti-immigration efforts, no matter how ill-conceived and unlawful.

The New Unity group managed to get itself organized without my help and we had a decent turnout. We carried both our banners and were in the midst of a crowd of more than 20,000 (possibly quite a bit more). Photos below. While all of this was going on, a petition to Parliament seeking the withdrawal of the invitation to a royal visit given to Trump got over a million signatures in hours. The House of Commons has to debate a petition that gets over 100,000 signatures, which should be entertaining. But there is no chance that May will withdraw the invitation to her new BFF and imagined lifeline.

Another Thing I will Miss About London: The New Unity Congregation. Last Sunday was typical in some ways and not at all typical in others. Judie was out of the country, so went alone, which meant that I didn’t get there early so Judie could go to choir practice. It was the beginning of the pledge drive. The had never really done a UU-style drive before. This was partly because they own two buildings in fairly high-end areas and thus can cover 60-70% of their budget with rental income. And the government supports charities like New Unity, adding more to budget line. As a result, they only need to raise £35,000 or so from the congregation, an absurdly small figure. Of course, it is an unusually young group, with a good number of students and twenty-somethings Just beginning their working careers, so it is not a terribly well-heeled bunch. I had been giving the new treasurer some advice on fundraising and one bit of wisdom was to have a time for testimonials in the services during the pledge drive period. To open the drive, they had four testimonials plus me. I ended up giving the final little speech about why we were making a significant pledge to New Unity and everyone else should as well. It was a good one (a barn-burner), in which I went through the many things that we get from New Unity and concluding that making a pledge is not an obligation, but a privilege. I will miss the opportunity to speak at New Unity.

After the service, I decided to go to the first meeting of the New Unity Men’s Group, even though I was not going to be around much longer. Compared to the UU Montclair group, it was more than a generation younger. In Montclair, the ages of the group ran from about 40 to the 80s. At New Unity, I was the second oldest participant and over half the men who showed up for the first meeting were under 30. There was a very open discussion, including a fascinating time when we talked about what it means to be a man today. I’m sorry that I won’t get to see how this group develops.

Painting: I’ve just started two new paintings. In one of them, I am trying out the gouache paint that I received as a gift from Karen and Jerry Fried. I was having so much fun that I utterly forgot that Judie’s Women’s Group was using the flat on Wednesday night. Fortunately the place was not a mess. I’m starting to think about when I will have to stop painting and start packing up the paintings and supplies. I’d say no more than two more after the current three in progress.

Off to Lisbon Soon: Our old friends, Andrea and Peter, are arriving literally any moment and we will leave with them on Saturday for a long weekend in Lisbon. So I really need to wind this up.

 

A Painting, A Play and A Panto

Posted on by Nick Lewis

A New Painting: I feel like I have been working on this one forever. Of course, I actually had to redo the building completely at one point and I left it over the holidays for two weeks, so I really has been sitting in the kitchen for quite a while. The subject is yet another view from the Isle of Skye. I have lots of lovely subjects from there, but I need to find new subjects for landscapes, etc. I’m getting sick of the mainly green palette. I have had some problems with this one. First, the building wasn’t right and then the writing on it was crooked, so I had to start that part over. And I was never able to get the bottom left and center right. It is all very busy and the green algae on the stream coming out from under the distillery was impossible to capture. There are lots of layers down there. I finally decided that it finally looks OK and that I am really sick of it. Not one of my best efforts, but they can’t all turn out well, I guess. I’m sure that famous artists have had canvasses that they just throw away in disgust. (Probably not Picasso, who would just sell it for lots of money.) I’m not quite to that point with this one and it may be that I’ll go back at some point and see if I can improve it, but, at least for now, I am done with it. Here it is:

talisker-painitng

“This House”: Last Wednesday was another meeting of Judie’s Women’s Group in the flat, so I had to vacate. This has turned into my evening to go to the theatre by myself, trying to see plays that I don’t think will appeal to Judie that much. This time, I picked “This House”, playing at the Garrick Theatre in the West End, following an initial run at the National Theatre. It is very political play, set in the offices of the Whips of the Labour and Conservative Parties in the late 1970’s. This was the period before Thatcher became PM and Labor had tenuous control of the government, requiring them to constantly make sure that their MPs showed up for the votes and trying to bring over the votes of the various minor parties. It was real inside Parliamentary politics, which I found fascinating. For example, one of the subplots involved the tradition of “pairing”. This happens when an MP is ill or away on government business. The whips meet and such an MP is paired with an MP of the other party, thus cancelling their votes. As a result of a dispute during the play, the Conservatives stop the practice and the Labour whips have to go to great efforts to get their members in to vote. One very sick member is simply moved into a bed in an office. This invokes another Parliamentary tradition, “nodding through”, in which the vote of a member in the building but too ill to appear is counted anyway as a courtesy. This particular member is eventually sent home and, in the climactic scene, the Labour party is faced with a vote of no confidence which could end their government. They need the vote of this terribly sick guy. But they realize that calling him in to vote would probably kill him decide that this is where they have to draw the line. (They had previously drawn the line at nothing in struggling to retain power.) Labour loses the motion by that one vote, an election is called as a result and Thatcher is elected PM, as the play ends. The play is not about policy or the important ministers. It is all behind-the-scenes maneuvering and the characters are really appealing in a ruthless sort of way. The stars are really the Deputy Whips, who do most of the dirty work. The Conservative side is exactly the sort of upper crust types that you’d expect. Nathaniel Parker (Inspector Lindley on the TV mysteries and Henry VII in “Wolf Hall” on Broadway) plays the Deputy Whip and Malcolm Sinclair (a fabulous actor who is great at playing snotty upper crust types and who we already had seen in “The Meeting” and in “Show Boat”) was the Whip. The Labour side were appropriately working class blokes. Steffan Rhodri was brilliant as the Deputy Clerk. Phil Daniels was a wonderfully Cockney Whip in the first act. When he was forced to resign, the new Whip was played by Kevin Doyle (Mr. Moseley in “Downton Abbey”). Another great character on the Labour side was a young woman that they added to the team, played by Lauren O’Neill (who we saw in “Reasons to be Happy”) as even tougher than the men. This is “One of the Things I Will Miss about London” (you’ll be seeing this a lot in the coming months): not just seeing great actors, but seeing the same actors over and over in different parts.

“Sleeping Beauty”: When Diane and Gene were visiting up before Christmas, they made a point of going to see a “panto”, which is a bit of an English tradition. We had never seen one. So, on Saturday, we went to one. It was the last weekend for Christmas pantos and we went to the Hackney Empire, what appears to be an old Music Hall theatre in diverse, working class Hackney (see photo below). It boasts one of the more famous pantos in London, a new one of which has been created and directed by the same woman each year for nearly 20 years. A panto is short for pantomime, but it is not really a pantomime. It is a form of family holiday entertainment, that includes music, big production numbers, comedians, traditionally including one dressed in drag, often a pie throwing scene, and lots of bantering with the audience. This version of Sleeping Beaty only loosely followed the plot, which was notably changed so that her nanny wakes her with the kiss and she becomes a warrior princess who goes to rescue the prince, who has been kidnapped by the evil witch. (The witch and her minions were all Caribbean, which reflects the demographics of Hackney.) The evil witch and Sleeping Beauty were played by talented women, with great big voices and the other star was the nanny, dressed in drag and played by Gavin Spokes, who we’d seen playing Nicely Nicely in “Guys and Dolls”. There was a long string of Brexit jokes included in the show, notably a song sung by the Nanny and the King called “Never Ask the People What They Want”. At the end the Nanny comes out in an outrageous dress that is half Union Jack and half EU flag. My favorite Brexit joke from the show was when the King announces that he is trying out a new court jester. He is asked “What happened to the old court jester?” and he answers “He is the new Foreign Secretary” (a fairly hilarious reference to Boris Johnson). The Nanny does all sorts of stuff with the audience. The best was when she went down to the stalls and picked out a hunky looking guy in the front and says he is not looking well and sprays him in the face with his special nanny elixer. He gives the spray bottle to the poor guys date and periodically through the show, stops everything and says “You are not looking well, Kieran. Please spray him in the face for me” and the guy’s date gleefully sprays him. A great running gag. The show ends with the Nanny coming out and reading out birthday wishes to kids in the audience, a joint sing-along and a big final number. Great fun.

hackney-empire

I think that I will make the following a running theme in the rest of the blog, appearing at the end of each one.

One of the Things We Will Miss About London: We will miss getting to walk over to the fitness club in the morning (or in Judie’s case recently, hobbling), going through our routines and then stopping at the local conveyer belt sushi restaurant for lunch afterwards.

One of the Things I Won’t Miss About London: The British, with one notable exception, don’t seem to invite people to visit them in the homes. Except for Paul and Jane Jee and a Bryan Cave Goodby Party, the only people we have been invited to visit are various American expats. Is this shyness? Is it some sort of house shame? Is it the fact that people seem to meet at pubs? I am not sure, but it has impeded our ability to become close friends with people here. I will say that it is a trait that the Brits appear to have lost on the voyage to Australia.

A new Painting and a Rainy Saturday

Posted on by Nick Lewis

Another painting in the Portrait Series: After my last portrait, I said that I was thinking of doing one of someone I didn’t know and that is what I did. I found a photo I took of a gent with a bowler hat. (I was leaving the Trooping the Colors ceremony and managed to snap a candid shot.) So I was painting without feeling the pressure of capturing the essence of someone I know well. It is an OK effort I think. Painting faces is not easy at all. I find them much harder than landscapes. But I think it is worth persevering. I do think each of these portraits has shown some level of improvement, so maybe I’m just starting to get the hang of things. I’m beginning to think that I should take photos of people when I’m visiting the States in the coming weeks, so that I can get some material for future efforts. Anyway, “Bowler Man” is below. I’m not sure I’ll even start another portrait before our Thanksgiving trip, which begins next Saturday. I still have a landscape in progress.

bowler-man

Rainy Saturday: As the Saturday after Trumpageddon approached, we were considering just getting out London. Maybe a road trip to Cambridge or Windsor or even a quick trip to Paris for lunch. But then we watched the weather and found it would be pouring down rain in all those places. The main event in London that day was the Lord Mayor’s parade, but we had gone to it last year and watched in the rain. (We were told that it always rains on the Lord Mayor’s Parade.) So we decided to go the two movies that afternoon and picked some real escapist ones:

“Doctor Strange”: This was my favorite Marvel character in my sometimes psychedelic youth. I actually have a collection of Doctor Strange comic books from the mid-1970s, which may be valuable for all I know. They certainly have tremendous nostalgic value to me. So I was excited to hear that they were making a Marvel movie based on those comics and that Benedict Cumberbatch was going to play the master of the mystic arts. It struck me (and probably everyone) as inspired casting. The movie was fun. We saw it at an IMAX 3-D theatre in Leicester Square, which made all of the special effects in the film even more awesome. I must say that the film took an awful long time getting to the good part–when Doc Strange meets the Ancient One and the real fun begins. Did I really need all those scenes of brain surgery, etc.? I guess it is background that allows us to “understand” the character, per the Marvel movie playbook. Anyway, once that was behind us, the special effects were spectacular and the plot became increasingly and appropriately spacey. Doctor Strange doesn’t fight mere humans or superheroes. He battles cosmic forces and supernatural villains. And that part was great. Cumberbatch was a wonderful Steven Strange and I could see him developing the character in the inevitable sequels to come. It was a bit weird seeing Tilda Swinton as The Ancient One, but she was fine. This is not a classic movie in any way, but I enjoyed myself thoroughly.

“Arrival”: After lunch at The Cork and Bottle in Leicester Square, we walked over to Piccadilly Circus to see “Arrival”, a science fiction movie starring Amy Adams. It was enjoyable, as long as one didn’t think too much about the details of the plot. Amy Adams is a linguist who is recruited by the U.S. Army to try to communicate with the aliens in one of twelve mysterious large alien vehicles that have parked themselves at various places around the Earth. They look like gigantic, walking octopi (only with seven legs). And it develops that they communicate by squirting black goo to form symbols. Amy Adams has to interpret them and to teach the aliens English in a sort of Anne Sullivan/Helen Keller way. Her performance is convincing as it possibly could be. There are lots of flashbacks about her daughter, who has died form some sort of rare disease. It appears that this history somehow makes the aliens more receptive to her (or something), but this is one of many points when the plot becomes a bit hard to follow. Judie and I left the movie saying “What was going on there in the last ten minutes?” and I’m still not certain. But it doesn’t really matter, since one should suspend belief in such movies anyway. It was cleverly done, without the usual overbearing military/government villains. (Forest Whitaker was nicely normal as the Army guy in charge of things.) After the crazy special effects and loopy plot of “Doctor Strange”, this movie seemed almost intimate, although it really wasn’t at all. But it was satisfying to watch.

A Couple of Books I’ve Read: I went through a longish stretch reading several British history books, including one about the life of Samuel Pepys. interesting, but sort of dry and a bit of a slog. I was ready for something lighter. So I read Michael Chabon’s “Gentlemen of the Road”, a swashbuckling adventure novel set in the Caucasus mountains around 950. In Chabon’s notes at the end, he reveals that the working title was apparently “Jews with Swords” and that gives you just an inkling of the many clever twists and turns that occur in a fairly short book. Great stuff. On Saturday, I finished “A Man Called Ove”, by Fredrik Backman, a book recommended by Judie’s sister, Robbie. It is a Swedish book about an old curmudgeon, whose wife has recently died and who just wants to die himself when we first meet him. He seems like a one-dimensional grumpy jerk at first, but he grows on you and the book is really very sweet. It was nice to read something so gentle after the election. I understand that it has been made into a movie in Sweden and it looks like a TV miniseries to me.

A Game 7 Blog: A New Painting, Another Guide Play and Election Thoughts.

Posted on by Nick Lewis

I have actually avoided watching baseball very much this postseason. It is just too debilitating to stay up until 4:00 AM night after night. But this is going to be a fairly cosmic game 7 And it seems to me that, simply as a baseball fan, I have to watch it. It deserves to be an epic game, which means that it will probably be a blow-out. But I want to see baseball history made, one way or another, so I’ll be on it to the bitter end. This means that I will spend 45 minutes (at least) staring at a screen that says “Commercial Break”. So I’ve decided to be constructive and try to write in the many, many dead moments. I am actually starting a bit early and that you God for ending British daylight savings time earlier than the US.

New Painting: This was a fun one, partly because red and black is my favorite color combination. It is based on one of many photos I took when we went with Robbie and Bob to see “Trooping the Colors”, the event where the various costumed soldiers march around and present themselves to the monarch. We actually saw a rehearsal, since we were going to be in Scotland on the big day. (I wrote all about his back in May, with photos and everything). I had a little trouble trying to figure out this painting. I thought at one point of cutting out the guy on the horse and making it a strictly black and red affair, which would have been more abstract than what I ended up with.  I finally decided that the guy on the horse gave the whole thing some context, although I have to admit that the prospect of painting a horse worried me, even without the head visible. After I completed most of it, I had to decide whether to add any detail and if so, how much. I didn’t want to break up the black and red too much. I ultimately decided to give the guy on the horse some gold and white and some darker red to give the impression of arms. Then I added the white on the beefeaters, figuring I could always paint over it if I didn’t like it. As you can see, I left it in. I’m not crazy about the pants on the line in the front, but I decided it’s Ok and the painting is really about the black and red anyway. Here it is:

trooping

“A Pacifist’s Guide to the War on Cancer”:  Judie’s women’s group was meeting in the flat, which meant that I had to vacate. I didn’t know much about this production other that it was at the National Theatre (possibly the best theatre in the world) and it was some sort of musical about cancer and, after “iHo”, it seemed like a fun idea to see consecutive plays with Guide in the title. Kinda weird choice, but it was a good production. [1-1 after three innings.] It follows a women who has to bring her baby back to the hospital for cancer tests. While there, she meets all of these other cancer sufferers. It is kind of cancer “Chorus Line”, as each of the characters has a song. Of course, you figure that they will not all be doing a kick line in sequins, so the issue was how it would end. [The Indian centerfielders may cost them the Series] The set looked like the waiting room of a hospital–same colors, etc–and as the act went along, big balloons with odd cancerous shapes would appear, growing out of the walls or coming out of the doors. [Cubs score two in the top of the fourth to take a 3-1 lead.] There were also moments where Emma, the main tragic mother character, was followed about by actors dressed as cancer cells (sometimes singing and dancing), which was certainly odd. The whole first act was predictably emotional and actually quite moving. [Indians down in order in the fourth. Why do the announcers seem to want to take the Cubs starter out? ] There is something about cancer of course that make you start to thing about all of your friends and relatives who are suffering or who have died. [Baez homers leading off the fifth. Cubs lead 4-1.]

In the second act, Emma (the mom) gets the bad news about her baby and I’m thinking where do we go now? And all of a sudden the actors break character (although it takes a minute to realize it) and begin to lip-sync the recordings of the cancer sufferers whose stories are the basis of the book. Very moving. And then Emma asks the narrating voice “Who am I?” and it turns out that she is playing the Artistic Director of this troupe, who had gone through this with her son, and which inspired the show. Then, to top it all off, a cancer sufferer is called up to stage to say something and the actors all have shout out to someone impacted by cancer. Then they ask the audience to do the same and the show ends with a song. [Cubs leading 5-1, take out their starter. Seems like over-managing, but it may not matter. Well, maybe it might. Strange two-run wild pitch makes it a ball game again. 5-3 after five.]

This whole play leaves me wondering. Is this really a good theatrical production? Or is this a manipulative work about a fraught subject for many people? A little of each, I think. It really was ver effective at making yo think about cancer. In particular, there was a section in the play and in the programme which looked at how we treat people, including friends and family, with cancer. And you find yourself thinking “Do I do that?” I think that it is all a valuable look at cancer and how we think about it. It isn’t exactly “The Sound of Music”, but this is a serious work about a subject that is as serious as it gets.

[So we have passed 2:30 AM and I have been sipping Makers Mark for a while. Enjoying the game. Seventh Inning Stretch. Cubs led 5-3 and the game would be kind of boring, were it not for the two-run wild pitch off the catcher’s head. It is looking like a long night. I’ll have to proofread this mess tomorrow.]

A Break to talk about the US Election:  I haven’t written that much about it because that is there to say that isn’t being said? Which isn’t to say that I am not obsessively checking FiveThityEight to see what Nate et al. are saying. (They are the most sensible people covering the election, I think.) But now I can’t even watch the BBC coverage or because I’m so stressed about all. [Now it is past 3:30 and the Cubs have blown their lead. Maddon is over-managing to a horrible degree. A two-strike Squeeze play? Too much stupid small-ball strategy. He got Lester up too early and then had to bring him in too early, so he had to bring Chapman in too early. What an odd game.] Judie and I are trying to decide what to do on Election Night. We are going to “King Lear” that night and it turns out that there are a number of all-night parties in London. [OK. Now it is 4:00 AM and there is rain delay. Are you kidding me? What am I supposed to do now? Am I supposed to just hang out until Dawn? I can’t really give up on this game now. But when will it end?] I guess if I am willing to stay up to watch the World Series, I should probably stay up to see the future of the world determined.

CUBS WIN! And it isn’t 5:00 PM yet!

 

A New Portrait and Thoughts from London

Posted on by Nick Lewis

A New Portrait: After going to the Royal Academy and seeing the David Hockney exhibit, “82 Portraits and a Still Life”, I decided that I was going to try to do a series of portraits and to have two paintings going at a time, one a portrait and the other a landscape. (Hockney is said to have quipped that the are really only three kinds of paintings: portraits, landscapes and still lives.) I’ve discovered that it’s hard to do portraits. I guess this isn’t a really great insight, but I thought after my first attempt (a portrait of Judie that wasn’t a bad painting, but didn’t really look like her), I might have learned something that would make the second attempt better.

For the second one, I decided to try a portrait of my friend and former roommate, Chris, based on a good photo of him from our trip to France in June. One of the first things I learned is that it is tricky painting someone with a beard. I even went back to the Hockney exhibit to see how he did it. He didn’t really. Only one of the 82 was not clean-shaven. So that wasn’t all that helpful, but, upon close inspection, I did note how the area under the chins of his portraits were always extra dark, so I tried to incorporate that. The other thing Hockney does that is really kind of magical is to add bright or unusual splotches of colors to the faces that seem like that they can’t work but do. I have no idea how it occurs to him to do that (and I’m not going to try).

I kept at this portrait, pushed along by a deadline in my mind. Chris is coming for a quick visit on Sunday and I decided I should try to finish it before he arrived. The result is below. I actually think it is a pretty good painting and it looks more like Chris than the first one looks like Judie, but it still doesn’t really capture him. Of course, while Hackney’s portraits are great, I don’t really know exactly what his subject actually look like. For all I know, the paintings don’t really look like his subjects (although I kind of doubt it.) So I’ve been thinking that maybe I should try doing portraits of people I don’t know as well (or even don’t know at all). My expectations would probably be different and I might be less disappointed by the results.

chris

When Will the Countdown Begin: For quite a long time, I felt like I was visiting London. And then that changed. Looking back, I’m not sure that I can remember a bright line, where I felt that I actually live here, but I know that it happened. I’ve always known that this time here would be a temporary thing, but the end was sufficiently distant that I didn’t feel like a transient resident. I still don’t, but I can begin to feel that ending. In roughly five months, we will back at our home in Montclair, putting the furniture back in place and trying to restart our lives. I know that it is coming and I occasionally think about the logistics of the move and what I am going to do with myself when I get back. At the same time, I am feeling very present in London here and now and that is a good thing. I have real sense of neighborhood in Shoreditch and Spitalfields and Broadgate, etc. And we both have a strong feeling of commitment to New Unity and its community. I sometimes wonder if I could do more good over the next few years trying to help out with New Unity than in taking some role at UU Montclair. Perhaps that will all change once the countdown to the move begins, which I suspect will be sometime in January. Right now, it is just a faint tug. By then, it will be an increasingly strong pull.

I’m Counting on You, Lord, Please Don’t Let Me Down: I think the following is a sign of something, but I can’t decide what that is. Sir Philip Green is an ostentatiously rich Brit, who is reminiscent of Donald Trump. (According to Wikipedia, he was considered for the Donald role in the UK version of “The Apprentice”.) Unlike Trump, he actually did support a number of charities and in 2007 he was knighted. It gradually emerged that he engaged in all sorts of tax avoidance schemes and conspicuously spent huge amounts of money on himself and his family. He was a Cameron confidante and generally the kind of rich guy lots of people grew to hate. He seemed to buy and sell various retail businesses. His big troubles began after he bought the “High Street” department store chain, BHS. He proceeded to drive it into bankruptcy, not only costing all of the workers their jobs, but also a great chunk of their pensions. It has been an ongoing scandal. Green seems to be perceived as such an awful guy that even lots of Conservatives  hate him and they normally have never met a rich guy they won’t toady up to.

This week, the House of Commons held a hearing about taking his knighthood back. It seemed a bit weird to me that you could do that. I’d think that everyone getting a knighthood assumes that it is lifetime, irrevocable honor. Think again, Elton John and Paul McCartney! The humorous thing about the whole thing is that, while the MPs got to make endless outraged speeches, it turns out that the House of Commons has no power to revoke a knighthood, so it is just a meaningless recommendation to whoever actually does have the power. Is this an act of faux populism? An easy way to fake concern for the little guy, while systematically shredding the NHS and the safety net? Is it some sort of weird Brexit response?

The End of Alex’s Visit and a new Painting

Posted on by Nick Lewis

A New Painting: I think it is easier to start with this and I’ve decided I like having the new paintings lead off these blog posts. The painting below is based on a photo that Nancy Prince took and published on Facebook. I liked the composition. It could probably go with my earlier painting from the Isle of Skye to begin a Stone Wall Series, although I’m not really that interested in stone walls as a theme. I actually had this essentially done weeks ago, but kept fiddling with it and, I suppose, improving it very slightly. I seem to have recently settled into a semi-realistic, semi-impressionistic style. It’s not that I mind it, because I think some of the resulting paintings are visually pleasing, but I also feel like I should be pushing myself a bit more. This led me to try the Georgia O’Keeffe tribute and the more recent foray into portraiture, based vaguely on the Hockney show I saw. I’m not ready to settle down yet. Here’s the latest one:

mailboxes

The End of Alex’s Visit or “Oh, My Aching Feet”: There was one thing that was noticeably different about Alex’s visit from any prior visits by our children in that it was the first time a child visited who was working (in the sense of having a real job) and actually had to take time out to answer e-mails, take a call and do some work. Alex is working on the first draft of his story for Audible about life in America during World War II. The first episode for which he is responsible focusses on the lead up to the war and the fight between the isolationists, like Lindbergh and Father Coughlin, and Roosevelt and those who saw the dangers ahead and the need to get involved int he war. So he had to spend about ten hours of his trip (at various times) researching the story and listening to potential audio clips.

It was probably just as well because it allowed me to keep up with things a little. And it turned out that I developed a mild case of gout in my right toe. I’d had it once or twice before and it always went right away when I blasted it with a pain-killer like Aleve. Unfortunately, you can’t take them when you are taking blood thinners, so I was in this annoying pain when I walked, which made me limp and which made my other leg eventually get sore, particularly since I ended up doing a lot of walking around with Alex. It has been a weird few weeks, health-wise.

Oxford: Alex really wanted to go back to see his old haunts at Oxford, so last Wednesday we took the train up and spent the day wandering about, seeing his old college and where he had classes, visiting pubs and the like. As I turned out, it was moving in day for freshmen, so we were actually able to get into St. Ann’s College (which is noramlly off-limits) and walk around a bit and take a picture of Alex in front of his old room. St. Ann’s is one of the newest colleges at Oxford and a little outside the center of town, which led to more walking. It is a bit of an architectural hodgepodge and, while it is not really ugly, it lacks the drop-dead gorgeousness of most of Oxford. To make up for that, we walked over to Magdalen College (pronounced “maudlin”) and paid to get in and wander about. It was started in the fifteenth century and is constructed of that lovely honey-colored stone that dominates much of Oxford. What makes Magdalan especially memorable is that within its grounds is a deer park–and not a small one–complete with what looked like several dozen deer, including a large stag off in the distance. There is a tradition, undoubtedly centuries old, that when the monarch visits Oxford, he or she comes to eat at Magdalan College and a deer is killed and served. We also visited the Royal Oak pub (Alex’s favorite from his St. Ann’s days), the Bear Inn (famous for it collection of hundreds of school ties all over the walls and ceilings and which allegedly dates from 1242), and The Eagle and Child (where C.S. Lewis and Tolkien and their buddies drank). We had a wonderful lunch at the scenic Cherwell Boathouse (Great wine list) and dinner at the Turf Tavern (the legendary ancient pub where, among other things, Bill Clinton did not inhale). Throw in a walk to see the music faculty’s building and it was quite a day. According to my iPhone, we walked over 20,000 steps, more than eight miles. Some photos of the day follow:

oxford1   oxford2oxford3   oxford4

Friezing in Regent’s Park: For anyone who has been reading this from the beginning (and thank you for your patience), you may recall that last year at about this time I went to the Frieze Art Fair in Regent’s Park. It is a massive fair of modern art, featuring scores of galleries selling their art in a huge tent that must cover several acres. It was not the greatest idea to go there with aching feet the day after the Oxford trip, but I wanted to see it with Alex and it was fun, if a bit painful to the pedal extremities. There was, once again, some interesting sculptures in Regent’s Park, but the real show was inside. As you walked in there was a sculpture overhead, which you realized, as you got closer, was made of pantyhose. Odd but attractive. One of the early things we went to was a virtual reality work in which you sat on a sculpture of a giant snake, put on a virtual reality mask and found yourself on the snake and surrounded by all sort of weird figures and scenes. That experience alone made the whole visit worthwhile. As was the case last year, there was an awful lot of works which seemed to me to be pointless at best. Maybe I just need to hear the artist’s rap about why this scribble/pile of meaningless junk/splashes of paint are a meaningful reflection of society or whatever. It seemed to me that the ratio of things that I thought were clever/pretty/interesting to just pure crap was lower this year. But there were still some remarkable items. A sinuous, acrylic, wall-mounted sculpture, which refracted light and constantly changed colors as you moved around it. Small clear boxes containing the most intricate tiny sculptures, seemingly made of tiny threads, which turned out to be webs made by tiny spiders. Some interesting exhibits using live people. Some lovely sculptures in various mediums. And on top of all of the art were the people. It was the first day, so a lot of potential buyers were there, in expensive yet casual attire, talking seriously with gallery reps and air kissing each other. It was quite the scene. Some photos follow:

London News and a Painting

Posted on by Nick Lewis

New Painting: I’ve decided that I am going to try having a portrait and another painting going at all times for the next month or more. I’ve just finished my first of those portraits. It is of Judie and it owes a lot to the style of David Hockney. As you can see from below, it’s not a bad painting and I suppose it looks a little like her. I guess that I’m not really displeased with it, but I am a bit annoyed that I didn’t really capture Judie. I kept working on it, trying to get it, until I finally realized that I was doomed from the start. I never had the head shape correct and trying to correct that made the hair wrong. So I decided to accept that it was a decent painting and move on. It was frustrating. But I have learned a lesson–that the initial drawing is the key in a portrait, so in the one I am working on now, I was much more anal in transferring the picture to the canvas. We’ll see.

portrait-judie

Bake-Off News: I don’t know if this news made it to the States, where the Great British Bake-Off is a big hit (I’m told), although it is two seasons behind. The producers of the Bake-Off have sold the show to Channel 4, away from the BBC, after the BBC was outbid by a substantial amount. What Channel 4 failed to do was make sure that the talent was coming along with the big tent and the ovens. This was huge news here, eclipsing even the Brad and Angelina beak-up. Last week, shortly after the announcement, Mel and Sue, the hosts and comediennes who provide the light moments to the show, announced that they were not making the move. This caused a great deal of outcry. But that was nothing compared to yesterday, when Mary Berry announced that she is staying at BBC. She is the heart and soul of the show. It is like you are cooking for your loving grandmother. She will criticize you “soggy bottoms” or dry cakes, but in a loving and gentle way. Now, for £75M, Channel 4 has got the tent and the name and Paul Hollywood, the other judge who needs someone like Mary to be a counterpoint. It’s a bit of a disaster for everyone concerned.

Labour Party Vote to be announced this weekend: There is no drama here. Everyone knows that Corbyn will win, maybe by more than he won the first time. He is utterly beloved by the mostly young, far left voters who make up the membership of the current Labour Party. Whether the membership represents the actually Labour voters int he real electorate is another question, one that is familiar in the context of U.S. primaries, which have tended to skew toward either extreme for the last decade or two. As an article in Friday’s NY Times explained, a lot of this is about taking the Labour Party back from the Blairites, who moved the party away from its socialist base and disenfranchised the activists. I get that, but it seems to me that you still have to have a credible a Parliamentary presence and pose an electoral threat to Theresa May and the Tories. I don’t that Corbyn can do either of those things, and what is worse, especially to the Labour politicians who care about such things, is that he doesn’t seem interested in doing so. This the party divisions will not be resolved by this vote and will grow increasingly ugly.

The Liberal-Democrats, a third/fourth party, which actually seemed like they might be relevant force a decade ago, are hoping to rebound from the brink of extinction, by offering to be the center-left alternative for disenchanted Labour MPs and voters. There is no sign that the Labour MPs are interested in this, although they might be if they are attacked from the Corbyn-loving left in the selection process and are faced with retribution and the loss of their positions for daring to oppose the sainted Jeremy. It is going to be ugly and depressing for most Labour supporter in the coming year.

Theresa May and Brexit, etc.: Because May never went through an election, no one knows exactly what she stands for. She makes Yoda-like statements like “Brexit means Brexit”, which everyone now agrees is utterly meaningless. She is promising to get a “good deal” for Britain in the upcoming negotiations, but what good deal is depends on which of the various wings of her party you talk to. The Brexiteers are pushing her to invoke Article 50 and start the process of leaving the EU immediately or at least very soon. It would probably be a stupid act, but she might get forced into moving too soon. Even if she holds out until late next year, these negotiations are going to be extremely difficult. The eurosceptic wing of her party (especially the ones who go on and on about sovereignty) are absolutely convinced of the importance of British trade in the EU and are convinced that the EU will fold in negotiations. They are almost certainly wrong. (A significant number of the Conservatives believe that once Britain leave the EU, the days of the British Empire will magically be restored. It is pathetic.) The Cameron/Osborne wing of the party are more supportive of a slower process, but Cameron has left Parliament and Osborne et al are pretty discredited and, of course, there is no serious Labour opposition, so it is easy to imagine May being pushed into a process that turns out very badly for Britain.

It is in the non-Brexit areas of policy that things could get very ugly. May and the Tories are very conservative and are now unrestrained. The attack and gradual defunding of the National Health Service will continue, with the idea of eventually privatizing it. They want to reduce the funding of the BBC! The want to go back to the old days of selective grammar schools for the best students (who, despite May’s protestations to the contrary, are likely to be “the right sort of people”). They clearly want to cut back their aid to poor countries and to continue to cut back on welfare benefits. They are absolutely committed to limiting immigration. Labor Unions will see a new wave of attacks. The real economic impact of Brexit has not arrived yet, since nothing has happened. But it will happen and when it does, lots of people will suffer and they will not be “the right sort of people”.

There is a chance that May may call a snap election, which makes good Machiavellian sense to me. Labour is so divided right now that an election might destroy them or at least worsen the divisions. If she waits, there is chance that she could overreach and anger the electorate and even give Corbyn a chance to figure out how to be a leader (although that seems unlikely).

New Medical Mystery: At the beginning of the week, I woke up with my left leg completely swollen. It looked sort of weird, so I went to see a doctor. I’ve ended up getting an ultrasound, a chest x-ray, blood tests and a CAT scan. They have discovered that I am completely healthy. My leg is still swollen and they can’t figure out why. But they have eliminated all the serious things, so maybe it is nothing and it will cure itself. I’m supposed to go back next week.

Surrey Down: Judie and I went to Surrey this week. (By the way, I have always love the song “Stoned Soul Picnic”, but never knew exactly what “surrey”meant. It turns out that no one knows and that there any number of web sites discussing this. Perhaps Laura Nyro knew, but has taken the secret to her grave.) Anyway, we went to a place called Pennyhill Park, where Judie was at a conference. It is a rather historic place that was purchased and converted in a resort with a little golf course and one of the biggest and most elaborate spas I have ever seen. It was very nice. I probably would have done more while I was there, but I was sort of being careful because of my leg. It was fun anyway.