shredder weather

Bienvenue and welcome back to Musée Musings, your idiosyncratic guide to Paris and art. This past week, the second week of ‘Christmas Vacation’ has been my favorite week of the year ever since my kids were little. I remember it as the calm after the storm - after the flurry of parties and rituals that make the weeks preceding Christmas such a joy and so exhausting. After the Christmas presents had all been opened and hopefully, mostly enjoy. And after Christmas dinner, which like Thanksgiving dinner a month earlier, had been ample enough that the refrigerator was full, with a week’s worth of easily embellished leftovers. Enough to (mostly) sustain us until the next round of grand meals needed organizing and preparing.

This year, Christmas was subdued. But we had already decided that presents had to meet one criterion - they had to be useful. Sure, they could be attractive, even decorative, but their primary responsibility was to be useful. Last year I outdid myself with mostly useless presents. I blame it on art. The chief culprit was that exhibition on Botticelli at the Musée Jacquemart-Andre. There were so many cute things to buy for Ginevra. And I did. Then there was the Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild, near Nice, which I visited in the spring. It had spectacular views of the Mediterranean and nine fabulous gardens. The adorable gift shop had the cutest set of garden tools, hanging from a darling floral belt. Which I thought would be just the thing since Ginevra has become quite the gardener. But the tools are mostly (completely) useless and the belt, well, never mind about the belt.

This year, to make up for last year’s multiple faux pas, I bought Ginevra serious garden tools from a Japanese company recommended by Monty Don. Do you know Monty Don? (Figure 1) The Cambridge educated heart throb whose Gardeners World is reason enough to subscribe to BritBox. Watching him work the crowds at the annual Chelsea Garden Show makes me swoon. Besides Gardeners World, he has two television series. In one, he travels around the world visiting gardens. Each series is about the gardens of a different country. The range of gardens he explores is catholic - from spectacular to idiosyncratic. Among the countries whose gardens he has taken us with him to see, are Italy, Britain, France, Japan and the United States. Ginevra and I watched his Adriatic Gardens show right before we went to Venice earlier this year. When you think of Venice, you think of canals, not gardens. But they are there, both lovely public ones and fascinating private ones. Which Monty Don told us about and which we happily visited. (Figure 2)

His other series, which ran for a few years in the 2010s, is my favorite. I binge watched it one dreary February and watch it again every so often. It’s called, Big Dreams, Small Spaces. (Figure 3) Here’s the set up - each week, Monty visits two sets of people who live in the U.K.. Their homes and gardens are mostly modest. Their garden dreams are mostly not. At the first meeting, the garden owners tell Monty what they hope to achieve. After he listens respectfully, he gently coaxes them to be (usually) more realistic or (rarely) more creative. He returns twice more over the course of the show, over the course of the year. Once to see how the project is progressing - usually not well. But with an infusion of Monty magic, these amateur gardeners pick themselves up and get back on track. Finally at the end of a year, neighbors and next of kin gather to celebrate the garden those gardener’s dreams have become. I have been visiting Ginevra’s garden annually for the past four years. Watching it grow and take shape. (Figure 4) A garden is never finished. It is always an act in progress, an ever changing act in progress. A metaphor for our own lives. Okay, I’ll stop ….

Figure 3. Monty Don’s Big Dreams Small Spaces

The clippers and loppers arrived in due course, but how to wrap those unwieldy presents was a dilemma. Which I solved, brilliantly, according to me.

My pre-Christmas Christmas present to myself was a paper shredder. It was long overdue. And for the past month, I have been nostalgically poring over 30 years of documents. Most of which I have consigned to the ‘shredding’ pile. And for a while I was happily doing just that - shredding. I filled the box in which the shredder arrived and two bags from my new favorite grocery store, Gus’s. But no room in the recycling bin meant I had to stop.

And that relates to Ginevra’s Christmas presents, how? It’s coming. I had tied a red bow on the handles of the garden tools and put them under the tree. But, as I lay in bed Christmas morning, I had a much better idea, indeed a revelation. I got the box and two bags of shredded paper out of the garage and placed them around the Christmas tree. In the box I nestled the loppers; in one of the bags, I submerged the trimmers; and in the other bag, the compost scoop found its place. (Figure 5) It was very festive! And much appreciated. Unfortunately, it also has my two creatives, aka kids, thinking about other possibilities for the shredded paper - making paper? Oh no!

Figure 5a. Ginevra’s Christmas Presents - Loppers, Clippers and Compost scoop

Ginevra got into the spirit of useful giving, too. The night we saw Messiah, we had dinner at an Italian restaurant. Nicolas ordered a Negroni. Which we all enjoyed, especially Ginevra. So she bought Nicolas a bottle each of gin, Campari and Punt e Mes (a very delicious Italian vermouth). And a bar set. Useful. (Figure 6)

Figure 6. Ginevra’s Christmas Presents for Nicolas

I received skin care products from The Ordinary. Do you know it? There is no elegant packaging which I read somewhere is why skin care products cost so much, all that expensive packaging. The Ordinary has very plain, indeed ordinary, packaging and only pure ingredients. (Figure 7) You become a scientist mixing your own potions to match your skin’s needs. And cosmetics created by Gucci Westman, an American makeup artist and cosmetic designer known for her chic, minimalistic and natural makeup. So me. Both came with tutorials by my very own maven of make-up and clean beauty enthusiast (Ginevra of course). (Figure 8)

Figure 7. A sampling of small vials from The Ordinary. You can become a chemist, a mixologist …

Figure 8. Westman Atelier, shades are Bichette, Couchette, , Doudou, Minette, Petal, Poppet etc. you get the idea

Nicolas got into the ‘useful’ theme, too. For Ginevra it was three rose bushes for her garden from David Austen. And for me, I got another piece to add to my MacKenzie Childs collection of useful kitchen stuff. (Figure 9)

Figure 9a. Mackenzie Childs pitcher (from Ginevra)

Figure 9b. MacKenzie Childs Colander (from Nicolas)

Since Christmas, we’ve been drinking Negronis and waiting for the rain to stop so Ginevra can start clipping and lopping. But of course, one day, between downpours, we did get to a museum. The SFMoMA, to see the Diego Rivera exhibition. (Figure 10) At the Frida Kahlo exhibit in Paris a couple months ago, I learned way too much about Diego, none of it good, of course. But never mind, the exhibition here in San Francisco includes some delightful as well as poignant small scale paintings of indigenous Mexican people in a style that celebrates backbreaking work in a sort of timeless dignity. (Figure 11) Although even when Diego painted these canvases in the first half of the 20th century (the exhibition concentrates on Diego’s work between 1920 - 1940) they recalled an earlier time, a time when there was some dignity associated with manual labor. The curators were able to snag paintings for the show that have rarely if ever been seen in public. Like “The Rivals” (Figure 12) which depicts a festival held Oaxaca to honor the local patron saints and the abundance of spring. It was commissioned by Abby Aldrich Rockefeller who was instrumental in starting MoMA in New York. It stayed in the Rockefeller family until it was bought at auction by Paul Allen in 2018, the year he died. It was sold again, at auction this November 2022, as part of the record breaking auction of Allen’s paintings that was held at Christies.

Figure 10. Diego Rivera, Flower Carrier, collection of SFMoMA since it was painted (1935

Figure 11. The Embroiderer (and her bored daughter?) Diego Rivera

And while they celebrated Rivera, the curators did not hesitate to call him out when they saw fit. Not only by noting that his paintings were already anachronisms when he painted them, but by drawing our attention to paintings like that of two little girls seated in a bedroom. The lighter skinned one sits on a cushion, reading. The darker skinned one sits on the floor, listening to her superior. (Figure 13)

We know Rivera mostly from his murals and the exhibition very creatively presents three of them. Two as large scale videos and a real one on a huge wall where bleacher seats enable visitors to sit and gaze at the mural, in all its hugeness and complexity. (Figures 14, 15) There are also preparatory drawings for the murals and a very informative video explaining the fresco process, using all the correct Italian words, Intonaco, giornata, sinopia, etc. A video that would be just as useful at the Brancacci chapel in Florence to explain how Masaccio painted his fresco, or how Michelangelo painted his fresco on the Sistine Ceiling. In looking at the frescos and reading about them, you can’t help but wonder at the stupidity of the wealthy industrialist who hired him to paint huge murals in their public buildings in Detroit and New York. What were they thinking? He didn’t hide his proletariat leanings and his communist sympathies. His murals celebrate the workers and denigrate the bosses. (Figure 16) So, of course, once the murals were painted, they were considered mostly unsuitable for their intended location. One mural wasn’t even finished before it was chipped off the wall. Most of his other public work for wealthy American patrons fared better. They were removed from their original locations and are now safely on display in museums.

Figure 14. Pan American Unity Mural, Diego Rivera

Figure 15. Pan American Unity Mural, detail of central area, Diego Rivera

Figure 16. Opponent of Nazism, Diego Rivera

Bonne Année (Happy New Year!) and Bisous, Dr. B.

Readers comments for which I am grateful. Thank you!

New comment on Munch: the miseries and mysteries of mankind :

Finally got to read the second half of your last blog. This was such an interesting article about Munch. The murals were a surprise. So bright and colorful. Deedee

New comment and very interesting conversation thread on Hallelujah! What a Mechayeh, I mean Messiah, Handel's Messiah!:

Beverly, thank you! I did NOT KNOW that “qaran/qeren” thing to explain Michelangelo’s “Moses”! A nice bit of what I guess we really have to acknowledge is trivia. But most of our daily lives are cram-packed with trivia. How could we live without it? —Morris Dean (aka Moristotle)

The conversation continued:

Morris, I’m afraid I can’t agree that Moses’ horns fit into the category of trivia

It was very useful ….

It connects Jews to the Devil and plays into the narrative that the Jews killed Christ

And kill and eat Christian babies

And therefore deserve exclusion, expulsion, extermination …

Am I painting too broad a stroke, I don’t think so but I appreciate that you might see it all differently. Beverly

Beverly, you make a persuasive case that those horns are far from trivial. Are you even implying that Michelangelo himself was "tarring and feathering" Jews? I confess I didn't think of that in reading your newsletter piece. If I had, I trust I would have had no thought of triviality! Morris

Morris, I don’t think that Michelangelo was especially anti-semitic, everyone was anti-semitic! He followed the tradition of representations of Moses with horns.

He didn’t question it and his famous statue has helped perpetuate the falsehood

Which anyone could use and has used to justify prejudice and worse … Beverly

Dear Beverly, I guess the significance of the horns on Michelangelo’s “Moses” flew over my head (and seemed trivial) because the sculpture’s anti-Semitism was invisible to me – me not only not being anti-Semitic, but also not being able to comprehend how non-Hebrew people in “civilized society” could have been subject to such a stupid, self-serving, self-deceiving, faith-based prejudice. (And I can’t comprehend how contemporary anti-Semites can exist, or even tolerate themselves, yet I read in reputable newspapers that they do exist and practice their prejudices with passion.) Jews today seem very tolerant to me and apparently harbor no reverse prejudices toward anti-Semites. Maybe my psychiatrist of 50 years ago was correct in his assessment that Darwin’s law as practiced through pograms and the like had ensured the “survival of the fittest” Jews – the more perceptive, intelligent, wary (the less subject to stupid prejudice).

Good morning Morris, (cced to me)

I agree with Beverly’s explanation of how an ancient error in translation led to the belief, particularly among the uneducated though not limited to them, that Jews had horns. In fact many of the colleagues of one of my uncles, who served in WWII in a regiment drawn primarily from rural areas, we astonished to observe that, contrary to what they had been taught, he did not have horns!

(I think it was Mark Twain who made the observation that a lie gets halfway around the world while truth is still putting on its shoes!) Mark, San Francisco

Moses Well, Claus Sluter, Dijon Cathedral, 1395

Page from Medieval Manuscript at Fitzwilliam Museum. Leaves from Laurent d’Orléans, La Somme le roi

Moses, Michelangelo, San Pietro in Vincoli, 1513-15

A sampling of Moses Statues with horns, bottom left Michelangelo, bottom right, Sluter

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Hallelujah! What a Mechayeh, I mean Messiah, Handel's Messiah!

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