Gone Up in Smoke

The Girl With Her Head in the Clouds, oil pastel on paper, 2012 This past fortnight I’ve returned to an old, neglected love: oil pastel drawing. I used to use oil paint too, once upon a time, but what I really love about pastels is that one uses one’s fingers – literally. It’s a much more tactile experience. I like to layer pastel on as thick as possible until the pastels are literally melting between my fingers, and I can smear the colours around, blending them even more (bringing new meaning to the term ‘finger-painting’).

I do like soft pastels too – only marginally less – but they are impossible to use in the home as the dust gets everywhere.

This week, a certain word once heard long ago, that described this blending method kept whispering in my head: sfumato.

a certain word once heard long ago … kept whispering in my head: sfumato

Detail of Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona LisaI finally took time to look it up and there it was: sfumato is one of the four canonical modes of the Renaissance. Leonardo da Vinci was the most prominent practitioner, and his Mona Lisa shows the technique, as does Bernadino Luini’s picture St. Catherine. The Italian word literally means ‘gone up in smoke’ and describes a method of painting in which there are no strong outlines – colours blend together softly from light to shadow.

Detail of Bernadino Luini’s St. Catherine Something’s Coming, oil pastel on paper, 2012 With oil pastel, I usually use a light, neutral stick to blend the colours below – white or warm or cool greys – or whatever is the lightest tone in the area I am working. While I practice this technique through the many layers of oil pastel, I nearly always finish with a final smudging layer.

I often find myself unfocussing my eyes as I work to further blur the colours together, to the point where I literally have to walk away to rest my eyes – which undoubtedly is very bad for my eyesight! Leonardo da Vinci himself described sfumato as ‘without lines or borders, in the manner of smoke or beyond the focus plane’. Such a beautiful notion.

The Other Side, oil pastel on paper, 2012

Greetings From the Past

This card is dated 21/12/1905. I love that the birthday message was carried entirely on the front, and the sender (whose name I cannot distinguish) writes ‘Do you still collect pictorial postcards?’ all over the picture!I have finally found a pleasing background for my random poems – vintage postcards! Though postcards seem as ephemeral as the magazines I have cut words from, they have stood the test of time: many of them are over one hundred years old. The people who wrote and received them are long dead, and it seems a fitting tribute to use their greetings and remembrances as a background for poetry.

The reverse of the card above.The original ‘found poems’ I created were pasted into a book, but I discovered, many years later, that the glue I used had turned a dark yellow and utterly destroyed the paper. I scanned them all in and cleaned them up – a daunting task. (Note: Any collage artists out there – don’t use the traditional rubber cement; it is not archivally sound; a simple glue stick would be better.)

Originally I wanted to create a real collage and stick the words onto the vintage postcards; create a whole new piece of art (hardcopy as opposed to digital). But now that I have bought them and admired their poignant and faded beauty, and exclaimed over the elegant handwriting, I am loathe to deface them. They have lasted this long – when perhaps they might have been put in the trash – so I cannot bear to cover them up with words snipped out of Vogue and Elle magazines.

Here are a couple for you to admire, front and back. 

This wonderful card, posted from Uruguay in 1905, still bears traces of glitter attached to the girls’ outfits.The card (above) was addressed to Mademoiselle Amandita Ambrosani (how lovely!) in Salto. I do hope that minimal address enabled the postman to find her.

The Man Like No Other

Here is Monday’s random poetry for your reflection. It tipped out of the vintage lolly tin just like this, I swear.

My look at the girl who cried wolf.
This whole thing is over;
It just stopped
after one more magic happily ever after;
so she leaves with
the man like no other.

A Remembrance of Things Lost

The Lost Tomatoes :: Watts // Blanko Noir // No flash – the first of a pair of photos; see the second in the main galleryI’ve been capturing things lost on Hipstamatic more than two years now, and have built up quite a collection. They are things I’ve seen on my perambulations to work, to training, on holiday and generally out and about.

At first I photographed anything lost I came across, but as there are a remarkable number of lost things lying about everywhere, I soon had to become more discerning.

Nowadays I photograph only interesting objects, preferably in unusual situations or locations, and preferably in situ – in the actual spot they were lost, I mean, rather than somewhere they have whimsically been put by some lad out on a lark late at night. For instance, I once saw (and photographed) a CD rack that had been stuffed high into a tree. I am fairly sure that it had not wandered there of its own accord – unlike the conjoined ironing boards that had been dragged willy-nilly down Sturt St by the raging wind one day. I photographed those from the window of our first-floor office. Nor do I include in this collection items that have been deliberately abandoned.

The Lost Teddy :: Helga Viking // Ina’s 1969 // No flash – the very first Lost Thing I photographedThe most popular lost items are things that fall out of pockets of course, such as gloves and hankies; ribbons (the most favoured colours being red and pink); shoes – mostly children’s; hats and scarves of all sorts; and fruits and vegetables. I’ve also seen a surprising number of picnic baskets, but I do walk through the Botanic Gardens several times a week. No money unfortunately, except for the $5 Monopoly note. Most surprising is the number of large items that get left behind – an easel at Melbourne Central Station for heaven’s sake. How absent-minded can you get? Another amusing pair is the two suitcases I photographed in the same spot, in two successive days – how odd! Both feature colourful prints.

I have in my collection so far around 200 photos, but I have only included my favourite images in this Hipstagallery, which means most of them have been taken in the last year, after I upgraded from the 3g to 4s iPhone, which takes better quality photographs. I am sure I will be collect more in my travels. Check out the Lost Things Hipstagallery for more. 

Be Still My Beating Heart

Back page of the booklet in the Moulin Rouge soundtrack cd; the artwork is credited to Bazmark Design – Silvana Azzi and Catherine Martin, with additional collages by Alexandra Bolton and Nikki di FalcoEvery time I watch Moulin Rouge I totally fall in love with Ewan McGregor again. It’s such a romantic film, yet the OTT hamming it up just makes me burst out laughing every time. There are so many great lines in it too (I particularly love Harold Zidler’s, delivered in the brilliant Jim Broadbent’s gleeful, fruity voice: Everything's going so well!; I'll leave you two squirrels to get better acquainted; Everyone's counting on you gosling; and Sateen’s I love a little poetry after supper.

Of course the mish-mash of music lyrics are brilliant too – there are too many too mention, but I love Like a Virgin (laugh out loud) and Roxanne (soo sexy!).

Paris panoramaSetting the scene of 1900 ParisMain menu title of the special features DVDI love the vintage look of the opening sequence, and the Green Fairy scene with Kylie Minogue. I own the special edition DVD with an extra disk of bonus material, which carries one of the best selections of behind-the-scenes and production featurettes I’ve seen on any DVD. The design of the DVD menus is great looking too, as is the booklet that comes with the CD.

Prostitute’s bosoms on displayThis absinthe drinker has the dissipated look down patA Lady of the NightSmoke and Mirrors title on the special features DVDThere is one fascinating section called Smoke and Mirrors, which is all about the evolution of the intro, and the creation of the green fairy. The nostalgic old film stock look – complete with scratches and flickering lights – of the intro is used when Christian is sadly writing his love story in his little attic.

Kylie Minogue, the green fairy (interestingly, the original concept for the green fairy was an evil rocker, such as Iggy Pop)And the green fairy feature is a fascinating insight into the making of her look. The sequence happens so fast in the film that it’s easy to miss the details – Kylie Minogue’s eyes glowing red, showing her evil side, and the hallucinogenic whirlpool she drags the bohemians through.

You know you’re a real bohemian if you believe in Truth, Beauty, Freedom … but above all: Love. 

L’amourFollow the Green Fairy …The Green Fairy turns wicked and her eyes glow redThe bohemians whirling down the rabbit hole – this sequence reminds me of Alfred Hitchcock's special effects for the film VertigoPage two of the booklet in the Moulin Rouge soundtrack cdPage four of the booklet in the Moulin Rouge soundtrack cdPage six of the booklet in the Moulin Rouge soundtrack cdAnd above all, Love, page eight in the booklet in the Moulin Rouge soundtrack cd