Please, Sir, Will You Stop Tapping... It's interfering with my blogging

I'm currently sitting in Columbia's Art and Architectural Library -- Avery. It's a lovely, cavernous, old-world sort of place with grottoes of books, iron railings around the second level of shelves, and huge wooden tables with proportionately huge wooden armchairs. On days like today, when the outside temperature is in the 60s and the sun is shining, the big floor to ceiling windows illuminate the marble columns and recessed white ceiling, making it a warm and cheerful place to get some writing done.

Across the table from me at this very moment is one very STRESSED business schooler. Or maybe he's an undergrad in economics -- I don't know, neither do I care. His book bag and coat are both on the table, intruding into my work space. He has a venti starbucks cup, which must have once contained a non-fat, extra-shot iced latte. Now all it contains is ice, which at evenly spaced intervals he feels the need to shake and tip into his mouth and then CRUNCHING on them. He has a lot of ice cubes still to go. I hope they turn the heating on soon...

In between the ice-rattling, he rotates among "spider push-ups" (this is the name my parents have given to the act of spreading out one's fingers, holding the two hands in front of your face and then pushing them together so that the fingers tap and spring off one another... it makes a tap-tap-tap-tap-tap sound... especially when the fingernails need a good trimming), face scratching, pen chewing, head scratching, frenzied writing, watch checking and over-zealous page turning.

Oh! Oh! Oh! He just picked his nose and looked at it... now he's resuming the writing. Back to the nose now... now the ice.. now the writing... page flipping... face scratching...

Now he's standing, finger twitting, page tapping, sneezing (I am not gonna say gablessyou), page sorting... he hasn't stopped moving and noise making.

I've decided this man shouldn't drink coffee. Not only is he red in the face, clearly HE HAS A LOW CAFFEINE TOLERANCE... so low in fact it makes him act like he's on crack.

Typically, when I'm working in Avery, I find it counterproductive to listen to my i-pod -- it just ruins the ambiance. Except for today. Today, the ear buds are in and Stevie Ray is cranked up all the way.

This fellow has just confirmed my belief that B-Schoolers should stick to their own library. There they can crunch ice, hell, even talk on their blackberries. Once upon a time I was all for cruising for future CEOs in Uris, but I think my tablemate (did I mention we're the only two people at the table... the other end is totally empty) has officially made me change my mind... that and the increased number of architectural students now making use of the art history study room... did I mention how very sexy architects can be? ;)

Floriography Just In Time For V-Day Floral Shopping

Another variation on the Victorian-Valentine's Day Theme. This time on the Language of Flowers.

In the 1800s, floriography, or the sending of messages via floral emblems, was hugely popular -- especially between young lovers (or at least, that's what all my Victorian novels lead me to believe). There were numerous volumes published in the middle part of the century that detailed the meaning of many a popular flower. An 1850 Glasgow published book called The Language of Flowers; Or Garden Telegraphs for Ladies and Gentlemen: a complete dictionary of floral emblems was a go-to guide for men and women looking to send messages of love, of empathy, of sympathy, and of Fuck You without writing one of those lengthy handwritten letters. Floriography "manuals" that featured illustrations and some verse were special editions and probably given as gifts. In 1847, John S. Adams published a 128page book with COLOR PLATES (how exciting!!) entitled The Language of Flower, Poetically Expressed.

There were tons more but today these Victorian standbys are pretty hard to lay your hands on. Barnes and Nobles does have a contemporary printing of Kate Greenway's illustrated manual, which is pretty awesome. Given the fact that Columbia only has copies of these in their Rare Book collection, I have consulted Google's results to compile the following list to help you lovebirds assemble those last minute bouquets. I've left out some of the cliched V-day varieties to help you think outside the box. Might I suggest an assemblage of baby's breath, blue violets, forget-me-nots and some red and white roses? Georgia O'Keefe certainly knew flowers had a (pretty sexy) language all their own.

~~~~~~~~~~

Baby's breath: Everlasting love

Carnations (pink): I'll never forget you
(white): Sweet and lovely; pure love
(avoid yellow, purple and striped -- those are all emblematic of bad feelings towards the receiver)

Forget-me-not: True love

Gladiolus: Love at first sight

Iris: faith; hope; wisdom and valor

Orchid: love, beauty, refinement, beautiful lady

primrose: I can't live without you
(avoid evening variety)

Roses: Yellow- Friendship
red & white together - unity
red & yellow - joy, happiness
thornless -- love at first sight

tea rose: I'll always remember

Tulips: Red -- declaration of love
yellow -- hopeless love
general -- perfect lover

Purple Lilac: first emotions of love

Acacia: secret love

Arbor Vitae: everlasting friendship

Morning glory: love in vain

sunflower: pure and lofty thoughts

Blue Violet: faithfulness

And what to give to the person who just broke your heart? Try a head of lettuce, which symbolizes cold-heartedness.

Can't Buy Me Love

I've never really understood the phenomenon of gift giving on Valentine's Day. I used to get coloring books or heart-shaped cookies as a kid. In college, my mother gave me a heart-shaped necklace from the Metropolitan Museum of Art collection. She wanted me to wear it when I hung out with this guy I liked and tell him a "special friend" gave it to me. She's a clever woman, my mother.

I remember one year my roommate's boyfriend gave her a rose and a watch while another of my friends received a box of chocolates and was taken out for a "romantic" over-priced candlelight dinner. My folks gave me $200. I think I won.

There's the gift of lingerie, which I find really troubling. I mean, if I wanted to wear a lace bra with peek-a-boo holes for my nipples, I'd buy myself one. It's mind boggling to think that guys consider it a good idea to give their girlfriends clothes they intend to whip off their ladies faster than it took for them to pick them out. And don't get me started on pearl thongs. Talk about conspicuous consumption. (Can I also say that this is entirely impractical.)

I actually love going to Victoria's Secret on February 13th. It's one of the most entertaining experiences of the year. The clientele has turned entirely male (with the exception of the few of us females who want to take advantage of the annual Pink sale) and every single one of them is confused. There's always the rush of female employees, "Can I help you find anything?" "errr, uuumm... I think I'll just take a look around?" Then off they go, into the "Sexy Little Things Section" rummaging through the piles & racks, drooling over the leopard print bras and the itsy bitsy thongs. Thoughts of comfort and practicality and even taste? Yea, totally not on the radar.

Also, it's absurd the way florists jack up the prices of roses this time of year. Whole Foods sells organic roses, one dozen, for like $24, while other places are pricing them near $100. Lame. I love roses, but I'd prefer to have them at deflated prices S.V.P.

Now, if I were in one of those relationships where the fella just felt it absolutely necessary to buy me something for this silly day of presents (and if he had the disposable income to do something better than a Hersey's chocolate bar) I would fully endorse the following: click here, because it says a lot more than a lace baby doll nightie and sure as hell makes a better investment.

Homage a William Kentridge and Sergeo Leone???

So like any properly procrastinating student attempting to get work done on an icy Friday night, I've just been cruising around YouTube where I stumbled on this video, a homage to Sergeo Leone's famous spaghetti western, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. The animation is actually done with sand on a light table. I found the finished product to look remarkably similar to the animated drawings of South African artist William Kentridge. His short animated films, like History of the Main Complaint, are actually only one drawing, photographed, edited and photographed and edited and photographed on and on continuously -- you can see the erasure marks. It's a phenomenal layering and morphing process -- a process of continual erasure and addition. While I'm not a fan of the dark content, I can't help but be captivated by Kentridge's process (oh artists and their processes!). For a lighter Kentridge film, watch this homage to George Melies' 1902 Voyage dans la Lune.

Victorians Imaging Love

I'm a confessed Victorianophile -- yes, I love all things Victorian: the clothes, the books, the art, the royal families, the economic climate, the scientific advancements, the neuroses, the philosophers &c. Of course I'm also a print-fanatic (see my thesis proposal), and funnily enough, Valentine's Day gives me yet another opportunity to discuss Victorians and art/prints/visual culture. WOOOT!

The way we celebrate Valentine's Day, with Hallmark cards and lace and pink and hearts, pretty much began in the 1800s. Esther A. Howland was the first to mass produce fancy Valentines here in the states -- in 1850, she set up an assembly line of ladies all armed with lace, lithograph cupids, lines of verse and other necessary romantic addons. Meanwhile, the first machine-produced, and thus reproduced, Valentine was printed around the same time in the UK.

Here are some prints about Love just in time for a holiday that celebrates love. (I saved my favorite for last) So Right Click, Save As, Open, and Print these out for your sweetheart come February 14. Hey, it's a recession and those Hallmark cards are overpriced.

Art for a Valentine

St. Valentine's Day -- a cold day in mid February dedicated to the warmth and cheerfulness of romance and love (and lusty one night stands). This is the first of two posts intended to help those in need of those little details that make the day really meaningful. This one is about Valentine-appropriate art. For those with significant others, many of these images will make fantastic Valentine cards. For those that intend to spend the day with chocolate/alcohol, some of these images will hopefully remind you that love is possible (or, in modern times, is over rated)


Sacred and Profane Love (1514), Titian (pictured above)
This is an interesting one. On one side stands "Profane Love" -- lust, one night stands, promiscuity, etc. On the other is "Sacred Love" -- true, eternal, romantic, spiritual, soul mate kind of love. But which is which? As it turns out, Sacred Love is the beautiful nude to the right of the central stone table. She is Venus incarnate. Vouluptous, yes. But ultimately modest (look at her avert gaze) and divine.

The Kiss (1907-1908), Gustav Klimt
I've always found this one a little troubling. It is generally accepted that this is the image of two lovers in an embrace -- of a woman submitting to her lover's touch and submitting to ecstasy. Though there's something about the way her head is tilted that makes me think otherwise. But for the sake of Valentine's Day, let's stick to the popular interpretation.


Olympia (1863), Edouard Manet
This famous painting is a late 19th century modernization of Titian's Venus of Urbino. How is it a modernization? Manet's Venus is a prostitute who sells love as a commodity. So, this isn't exactly the image you want to present to your lover. It's more of a reminder how impersonal love in the modern era often is.

At Père Lathuille's (1879), Edouard Manet
This scene is so full of light and joy -- who wouldn't want to be one half of the couple at Pere Lathuille's?


Cupid and Psyche (1783), Canova
Canova's Cupid and Psyche is one of the most arresting sculptures at the Louvre. Delecate and pure, it is an image of that moment Love awakens you to the world.


The Kiss (1889), Auguste Rodin
Seriously, this sculpture is the reason I'm an art historian (and Rodin's the Burghesses of Calais). Pure passion, pure romance, a pure moment. This is what a kiss should be.


The Swing (1766), Jean-Honore Fragonard
Valentine's Day almost requires a bit of Baroque-over-the-topness. So the fella is looking up her skirt and all those petticoats. She knows what she's doing. And I think we all get the inuendo implied in the swing. Those dirty 18th Century Frenchmen ;) All the dripping sexiness aside, it is a pretty image -- very chocolate box or Card with doily appropriate.


At a New York Restaurant (1922), Edward Hopper
A little less joyful than Manet's cafe scene. However, unlike many of Hopper's other paintings of individuals in American cities, there is a greater sense of intimacy, or perhaps a lesser sense of isolation and loneliness. I really like the painting -- we're given a glance into a private moment, in a public place, between a man and woman and it's up to us to tell their story.



Lovers in a small cafe in the Latin Quarter (1932), Brassaï
Romance only the way the French can picture it -- making out in a corner of a small cafe in Paris. It's a cliche we hold dear to this day.



Coronado Beach (c. 1930), Unknown photographer
Joy. Bliss. and Beach. Just a lovely scene of a lovely couple. And there's something immortal about black and white images... dontcha think?



stay tuned for Valentine's Day appropriate playlists.

The Progression of Away Messages

Today's series of Away Messages:

Kathleen is having a very Irish lunch with her very Irish cousins at a very Irish pub.

Kathleen ate too much corned beef and cabbage

Corned beef and Cabbage makes me sleepy.

Kathleen is never eating meat again.

Arizona vs. Pittsburgh vs. Austen

Superbowl Sunday: The most male day in the American year. Football jerseys, buffalo wings, chili, nachos, indigestion, smashing, bashing, neck braces, etc. Yes, you couldn't possibly get anymore uber-male than Superbowl Sunday.


Which is why I found it particularly awesome that PBS and Masterpiece Theater put up Jane Austen's "Sense and Sensibility" opposite the testosterone fest. So, while the men are off chest-bumping with their posse, the ladies can indulge in the most feminine of female entertainments -- romance a la Georgian England. For, there really is no game more entertaining than the one played between men and women for love and money.